Even if it didn’t act hostile toward them, the creature’s knowledgeable, unyielding gaze was more than a little unnerving.  Still, Ferris didn’t share the skeleton’s sense of caution toward it.  For one thing, aside from the minor physical differences, it looked like an ordinary animal.  It was also a little small for its kind, closer to the size of a cat than a fox.  Moreover, having never seen—or really even heard—of a familiar until then, the girl was curious.

“Those are rare animals that partner with mages, right?”

“They’re more like demons…” Castellar muttered in reply, “I know that one.  She’s teamed up with a fire monster.” 

“So, is that someone who’s on our side or not?”

The fox jumped down from her perch to trot a few meters closer to them before stopping once more.  Castellar kept still, “It doesn’t matter.  Familiars pick their partners, not the other way around.  They don’t follow any kind of rule: They just do whatever they please, which is what makes them so dangerous.”

“Yip!”  The high-pitched cry was aimed at them, as if the creature was trying to call the trio over.

Glowering with displeasure, the boy sank further beneath the undergrowth.  It was as if he hoped that, if he ducked out of sight for another minute, maybe the fox would just leave on her own. 

There was no such luck.  The fox only took a few steps away before circling around herself and then sitting back down with another bark. 

Ferris looked around her feet to see if she could find a decent stone to throw, “Can we scare her off?”

“That would depend: Do you want to try angering an otherworldly being?  Because that thing could tear a hole through reality and toss you through it for a laugh.”  He spoke as if he had experience on the matter, sighing, “Ideally, I’d just ignore her, however…”

She wants something from us.  And whatever the familiar wanted, she wasn’t going to go away until she got it.   

In that case, what was the point in hiding?  Pushing herself up from the ground, Ferris maneuvered through the tall foliage to walk toward the creature.  It wasn’t until she was nearly two meters apart from the fox that she realized she had no idea how one was supposed to approach a familiar.  Was there a certain custom she needed to do or words she needed to say?  Would the fox lash out at her if she showed some unknown disrespect?

Fortunately, no. If anything, the supernatural beast’s behavior was almost… expectant.  She waited just long enough for Ferris to get close before moving further away and coming to another halt with a waiting look.  Then, as though to further explain her unspoken request, the fox regarded the stretch of woodlands ahead of them with a pointed stare, glanced back at the girl, and repeated the action.

“She wants us to follow her.”

“Yip!”

For every step the fox took, Ferris began to match it.  Looking back over her own shoulder, she noted that her sister was the first to step out of the shadows after her.  A silent fear echoed in Ciara’s eyes, the child keeping a tentative, awkward pace in order not to lag too far behind her sibling while never getting too close to the familiar herself. 

Disgruntled by the sudden ordeal before them, Castellar was the last to come forward.  He watched the rear of their group for additional safety.  If the creature wasn’t truly alone as they thought, her partner could be lying somewhere to ambush them.

Still, just how strong was a familiar for the usually adamant skeleton to go quiet and allow their progress to derail like this?  Ferris watched the pair of tails just ahead of her softly wag with content as they walked.  The fox certainly didn’t look all that strong…  Gradually, the adolescent began to lose the caution she was told to have, allowing her longer strides to catch up a bit.

There was a certainty to almost everything the creature did.  The fox walked along a direct course and waited for the trio when she went too far ahead of them.  On one of the rare occasions that she did look back at the girl, Ferris again found that her eyes were much more intelligent than a typical animal.  They were like a person’s.     

Did they count as creatures of magic or creatures of the earth?  Castellar called them supernatural, so probably neither.  He’d also compared them to demons, so did they even have a part in this world at all?  Ferris climbed onto a fallen log after the fox in order to cross over a small gap, her arms spread out for balance, “Where do familiars come from?”

“Who knows,” came the curt response.  He didn’t venture a guess for her sake, “The rumors go that they can spy on our world from their own; watching us, picking favorites.  It’s like a game to them.”

A game…  Now that certainly was a terrifying thought.  “Why appear at all then?”

“The same reason most play games, I assume: It’s often more fun to join them than to simply watch.”

Just that one new piece of information cast their impromptu guide in a new light, and Ferris began to understand a little better why the skeleton was so reluctant.  Depending on how the familiar decided to ‘play,’ there was no telling if it would act for or against their own benefit.  The fox had, after all, seemingly come all this way for them—had been waiting for them, at least temporarily leaving her own partner behind.  That… didn’t necessarily bode well.

In the back of her mind, Ferris realized that the forest had grown suspiciously quiet.  It wasn’t caused merely by the cycle from day to night, or the flight of birds and other animals as their group paraded through the woods.  It was an unnatural ambiance.  The sound of the wind and the rustle of leaves was clear, but the larger background of chirruping insects, flaps of wings, and the other busy noises of everyday wildlife was missing. 

The girl started paying more attention to their surroundings.  It was easy to miss, but the landscape itself had also subtly changed.  Nature was meant to be full and chaotic.  Here, the undergrowth wasn’t so overwhelming, and the trees and bushes they passed by looked a little too neat.  They had similar shapes and builds, with just enough distinction to keep them from looking outright out-of-place.  Then, when she stared at the forest’s horizon for a while, she found it to feel less endless and more hazy, as if there was an invisible wall tricking her eyes. 

However, before she could sort out any of those feelings, the group arrived in a wide clearing with the sounds of a steady stream and groan of wood adding to her mix of limited sensations.  A small, two-story building—a mill—was placed by the water.  Despite its age, it appeared to be well-cared for.  The windows shined with a warm, yellow color from lantern light.  Moving up its few steps to the door, the fox sat down and looked at the trio patiently. 

The sisters hesitated.  It was Castellar who—looking no more eager than earlier—first pushed his way inside with a jerk of the handle.  The light rushed over them and a constant, sibilant hiss came from the right side of the first level.

The interior had been repurposed.  There was a stairwell that ran along the far wall to connect to the upper floor.  Aside from the pinwheel and attaching gears to keep the waterwheel working for some, unknown purpose, a lot of the machinery had been stripped away.  In its place were some light furnishings: Chairs, a table, and some space for cooking. 

Everything was placed in-advance.  Three wooden sets of dishes circled each other around the table with a platter of rolls set in-between of them.  The rolls had a swirling shape and were so pale that they looked more like dumplings, but had somehow been toasted on top to give them a crisp, golden-brown surface.  Ciara darted over to the table and quickly snatched one up, momentarily holding it in front of her face as though in a state of disbelief.  She glanced back to her older sister, “Ferris, it’s…!”

As soon as the child spoke, she drifted into silence yet again.  Ferris gave her an understanding nod.  Although the eldest sister barely remembered the name, she thought they were called Mallow Rolls, a type of sweet bread.  They’d only tried them once before, but they’d tasted so good and had been such a comfort at the time that it was impossible to forget them.

She looked around a bit more.  The quiet hiss that the trio heard came from a medium-sized pot simmering over a low flame.  A savory scent tickled Ferris’ nose as she inched closer.  She removed the lid, revealing the mix of vegetables and thick pieces of sausage cooking within.  While this was a different dish from what she recognized, as the girl plucked a large spoon from the wall to scoop out one of the sausages, she found that its taste was almost the very same. 

There was never a point along their travels that either sister had looked entirely at ease.  However, it never seemed to fail that they were the most relaxed when they had something to eat.  Left in their own, little world as they hurriedly worked together to dish out the supper, all Castellar could do was watch from the sidelines.  It must have seemed strange that the pair could become so excited about something so ordinary. 

First the crayfish, now this.  Unlike the nostalgic happiness the girls had shared for the former, the aura around them this time was more peaceful and reflective.  This was a meal that also brought back a memory, but one that was far more wistful in comparison.  To think that they’d get to enjoy these exact foods again…    

Ferris looked toward the stairs, as if expecting someone to appear along their banister to greet them.  Besides the familiar though, there didn’t appear to be anyone else in the mill.  It was silly of her to imagine it, that a kind stranger she’d only met once could suddenly materialize out of her memories.  The profound effect that stranger had on her—to the point that she’d think of and look for them now—may have been even sillier…

Is this why she brought us here…?  Surely not, but Ferris looked back at the familiar for some sort of confirmation only to find the creature already lounging on top of the table without a care.  The fox’s easygoing behavior didn’t encourage her; however, her stomach soon won out in the end and she called Ciara over to help her divide the meal.  She figured that, if the familiar meant to harm them by that point, then there were easier, less convoluted means of doing so.    

“You can understand us, can’t you?” she questioned the fox as she stepped back over to the table and slid Castellar’s share of the food to him. 

The vulpine blinked up at her, then nodded.

She forced down the childish feeling of wonder that tried to leap up in her chest as she continued, “Then can you talk?”

Castellar answered her instead, “Selectively…”  He stirred his portion of stew before taking a cautious bite. “I’ve never seen them speak, but I’ve seen that one’s partner speak to her.”

Ferris settled down in her chair, “You said you knew her and her partner.  Maybe she’s been following you.”

He shrugged, not denying it.

“Maybe something happened with her partner then.  Maybe she’s trying to be your familiar instead.”

Both the fox and the skeleton reacted to her suggestion almost in-sync.  The former shook her head while the latter gave Ferris a dismissive wave of his hand.  “Don’t start making reckless assumptions.  I don’t know why she’s here, but we’re not that close.  She’s just a pest.”

Despite their brief agreement, the fox’s ears perked up at the latest insult and she snapped her gaze toward him.  Jaws opening wide, she released a short, offended scream which Castellar promptly ignored.  In retaliation, as he reached out for some of the bread, the familiar quickly snatched the targeted roll in her teeth and leapt away toward the opposite end of the room.  She then turned around to give the boy a peeved stare.  He glared back, annoyed, before reaching for another roll.

It was hard to separate the aura of unease and playfulness the fox possessed.  Perhaps the nature of familiars was something akin to fire, as untamable beings that could cause both great comfort and great pain with the slightest change of the wind.  The fox looked neither like a creature from the heavens or the abyss, so, if familiars were demons, then this one was a lot less threatening than the kind Ferris had heard about in stories.  Then again, ‘demon’ as a term was used so liberally in Ebott’s tales that if a true devil ever appeared, it was unlikely that anyone from either kingdom would recognize it.  After much thought, Ferris settled that familiars must’ve been in a class all their own: Neither angel nor demon, god or mortal, but neutral meddlers out to fulfill their own desires.

“Have you seen others?”

“A few,” the skeleton replied, “Their forms vary.  They can shapeshift, and their souls are odd, so you wouldn’t know one if you didn’t see its ability for yourself.” 

“What were they like?”

He paused, contemplating.  Whatever he thought of them didn’t seem to be any better than what he thought of the fox.  It was enough that he broke away from his usual etiquette and leaned against the surface of the table.

“There is one you should watch out for in-particular: A white dog.  He’s harmless, but the mage he follows around is far from that.  If you see the familiar, his partner might not be far away.”

A white dog… Spotting one was easy.  While pure white breeds made up the majority among monsters, it wasn’t the case for Ebott’s regular canines.  “What’s the mage like?”

“Incredibly tough. Like me, he specializes in blue magic.  Moreover, he works with Valda.”

Yet another strong magic user and a familiar on Valda’s side… The more that list grew, the more Ferris questioned their odds of getting to the Arnaud Mages’ Guild without too much trouble.  Escaping Avalbanshee’s trio had been, in-part, a stroke of sheer luck.  No matter how much he protested, Castellar was just a boy: Even if he was tough in his own right, Ferris doubted he alone could manage the growing numbers stacked against them.  She was also beginning to doubt that she and Ciara could run away by themselves if they needed to without ultimately getting caught…

Once again, Ferris glanced at the fox, who was busy tearing off a shred of the captured roll with her teeth.  If she had her own familiar, would it even those odds?  She thought about it, but soon gave up on the idea.  Whatever kind of power that sort of alliance gave her, if familiars were more neutral, then it was a power she wasn’t likely to get much use out of.  All it would do was open herself to getting used in-turn.