This Familiar was average?
Anything but.
Her Salair Ner was impossibly beautiful!
He had teased her and then tricked her. Like a proper cat should.
Smiling back at him, she lifted her chin proudly and
purrred
.
Snow discovered many things since coming to M'yan. Everyday was a new adventure.
Salair had been welcomed in his father's manor. Everyone was so very glad to see him. And because she was his mate, they were just as happy to see her. It was as if
she
had journeyed from them for years!
Snow could no stop looking at everything around her. But, most of all she could not stop staring at her new mate. He was so incredibly beautiful.
Salair had also located her mother's family. They lived amongst the Southern clans and were anxious to visit her in the summer.
They had told Salair her name was Neyalah.
She still did not remember it, but she liked it. More often, Salair called her Snow. Or he rolled his
purr
when calling her
Softcat
. Occasionally, he resorted to Kittenfeet, which always made her smile since it made her think of the Dundee, whom she missed. It was his way of reminding her that she could be all three and to trust her own instincts. Once, in private, his father had said to her, "My son is rough; his ways are brusk, yet his heart has always been true. Despite his snarling ways, he will give you all that is within his power to give–and more, if he can. He always cares more than he lets on. Although rough around the edges, he is an honorable son. He is not a charmer; yet those who come to truly know him, love him. Always remember that." She was coming to know him well.
There were many reasons to love Salair Ner, but one stood out above all others to her.
It was not that he taught her how to regain control over her nature. (Although that was a wondrous gift.) Or the incredible risk he took for her. (Which she would never forget.) It was his unwavering faith in the instincts of his people,
of being feline
that gave him the resolve to see it through. Those steadfast beliefs made him know her as his true mate. Belief and instinct.
It was what made the cat always land on his feet.
***
Today they were going to journey to Aviara.
Yaniff, the venerable Charl sage had requested a visit from them. It was an odd invitation, but one did not question a summons from the most powerful wizard in the Alliance.
***
"Tell me your dream about that day, Neyalah." The wizard Yaniff sat with his guests at the scarred wooden table near the fireplace. "The day you lost your parents."
He is being diplomatic
, Snow realized. The old wizard was a kindly sort. He did not want to say: the day your parents were murdered.
And he had said
dream
not memory.
The subtlety of his words bespoke knowledge. He
knew
about her dreams. What else did he know?
When Salair and her had first entered the small cottage, Yaniff had greeted them warmly and then served them cups of heated
mir
. A favored drink amongst wizards; it was a relaxing, pleasant libation–probably sought out by mages to soothe pangs about the havoc the Charl often caused. They were all wielders of magick, but their supplicants were also warrior-knights. The combination was sure to cause a certain
excitement
on occasion.
One of his students was sitting by a window in the corner of the cottage with an opened scroll on his lap. He was muttering incantations to himself.
Every time he uttered a certain phrase, the scroll would indignantly snap shut on him. He would then have to wrestle the parchment to pry it back open. It did not seem to be an easy task.
The student suddenly looked up and smiled seductively at her. Snow was shocked to discover that he was Familiar.
"Half-Familiar," he murmured as he arched a brow and confronted the scroll with an evil look. Stubbornly, he repeated the same incantation. The scroll snapped shut on his finger. He growled at it.
Snow took a step back. How had he known–?
"Ah," Yaniff bustled over with a glint in his eye. "I see you have met my student, Rejar." He threw the halfling a pointed look. "As you can see, he is but a poor apprentice. He cannot even master a simple incantation of complex wizardry." The old mage laced his
fingers over his belly and looked down glumly. "Alas, I am aged and frail, and must take these sad opportunities to teach wherever I can these days."
A derisive snort came from behind the scroll. "I warn you both not to believe a thing that old man says." Snow was surprised that such a magnificent wizard lived so simply, considering his status. Surely, it was by choice. The power in the room was vast; she could
feel
that. Familiars loved being around wizards for that reason. They could feel their power.
"I am afraid I do not remember much, Yaniff." Snow answered his earlier question. "The dream is always the same. Someone calls to me, and I see it is my mother. She is telling me we are leaving this place, and I suddenly realize I am still a child. And I have seen this place before. . . We are on the edge of a small town my father has taken us to on our travels. He has told me we shall return to our home later, but first he must visit someone. My mother is unhappy with something, and my parents briefly disagree about what they want the person they are visiting to do. . ." She sagged in her chair. "I am sorry; that is all there is."
"Would you let me try to help you remember?" Yaniff asked her.
"Well, if you think you–"
Salair leaned forward protectively. "And do what exactly, wizard?" His dual-colored eyes narrowed ominously. Yaniff observed her mate with rather a bemused expression, Snow thought. Truthfully, what did Salair think he could do against a seventh-level mage? She rolled her eyes.
Male felines
.
She put her hand on his arm. "He will do what he needs to do, Salair. Do not be so foolish; he has no intention of harming me." She smiled charmingly at the wizard. "I am correct, am I not?"
"Most correct." Yaniff winked at her.
"Very well, then." Salair agreed, but crossed his arms over his chest. Just. In. Case.
Snow rolled her eyes again. Sometimes she wondered if Familiar men did not
anticipate
something going wrong because they so looked forward to it.
"Good." Yaniff nodded. He waved his arm in front of her forehead.
"What do I have to–"
"It is already done. Now, Neyalah.
Tell me of that day.
"
And that was all it took. Once Yaniff used
wizard-voice
on her, she began relating her memory with perfect clarity.
***
'
She will be in danger,'
'No, this will keep her safe. Trust me.'
My father leans down and kisses my mother, something he likes to do. They take me inside the hut and a wizened, old woman stares at me until I am uncomfortable. She raises her light-shrouded fingers, and I realize she is a caster of spells. I am frightened, but my father's hand on my back reassures me.
He pushes me towards her and she catches me in her intense focus. Then she mumbles strange words, and the glowing light streams around me faster and faster until suddenly I feel a snap-like sensation and it all stops.
Yet, I know I am not the same.
I can feel it.
Later that night we head to the Tunnel point that will eventually take us back to M'Yan. Before we can leave, we are beset by bandits. I am pushed aside as my father defends us.
My father tells me to run!
'Go back home to M'Yan and get someone to help you find the Charl wizard named Yaniff. He is their finest wizard. Tell him
"snowflake" and he will know what to do. Remember, Neyalah, snowflake.'
Snowflake. . .
Snowflake. . .
I start to run but not quickly enough. I see the bandits kill my father. . . Then my mother! I run through the woods towards the small village we had visited earlier. The bandits chase me, but a caravan comes by, and they run off. As I am running I trip and fall on an outcropping, hitting my head on the stone. My vision is blurring as an elder Dundee leans over me.
{Snowflake.}
I send the thought to her.
{Snowflake. . .!}
And then, everything goes dark.
When I wake up, I cannot see. I am told my name is Snowflake. It seems right.
It seems like something my father might call me. . .
Everything is so dark!"
***
Salair's hand squeezing her shoulder brought her out of her deep reverie.
Yaniff spoke with her. "My thanks to you, Neyalah. I know that was unpleasant for you."
She nodded, surreptitiously wiping a tear from the corner of her eye.
"May I yet ask you another favor?" The wizard's eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled encouragingly at her.
"You may ask me anything, Yaniff; you have given memories back to me."
"Could you metamorphose for me?"
She bit her lip, hesitating. Then looked up at her mate who was standing behind her. Familiars did not shapeshift in front of others.
Salair pierced Yaniff with an assessing look, finally coming to a conclusion. "It is all right. He knows of our ways."
Yaniff patted her hand. "I have seen Familiars metamorphose many times." At that news, she brightened. If others had done so, then he was greatly trusted by their people. She quickly transformed in front of the old wizard, turning into her cat self.
Before Yaniff sat a sweet-faced tan cat with brown and gold eyes.
Salair smiled at the little feline fondly. "I assumed she would be a white cat because of her name, but, do you see?" He pointed to her fur. "She has a snowflake marking on her left side." Bending, he put his hand out and the cat padded up to him with a purr and brushed against his fingers. Yaniff raised his eyebrows as he examined the white spot of fur. "This is not a snowflake–it is an impressed hexagram. I have seen this before; it is a seal for wise magick."
"A seal?"
Yaniff nodded. "Observe." He picked up his staff, and a soft stream of light flowed from the old sage to the tip of the staff. The wizard circled the glowing wand over the marking. It began to illuminate.
The snowflake wavered right before Salair's dual-colored eyes. Floating above the marking was a strange image.
"What is it?" he whispered.
Neyalah meowed her own question.
"Hmm. It is an orange ring with a unique imprint. . ."
"Do you know what it signifies?"
Yaniff recalled Gian Ren telling him what he had seen when he had been held captive in the Ganakari dungeons.
". . .It was a faint glimpse of an orange ring with an unusual design. . ."
So, all those years ago, Neyalah's father had discovered something of vital importance–and had then tried to make sure that the message got back to a young Familiar king. He must have known they were in danger so he had the image ensorceled under a marking on his little daughter's fur. Then he had instructed her to remember 'snowflake' as a codeword. The bandits Neyalah mentioned were more likely assassins. After her loss and injury, she remembered the word–but that was all. The message, unfortunately, never reached taj Gian.
"I believe it was a warning to a new king." Yaniff turned to Neyalah. "May I ask you something?"
The air in front of them both shimmered and Neyalah stood behind her mate.
Yaniff politely turned his back on her naked state. Not so his student, who playfully craned his neck to get a better view. The embarrassed old wizard–who was rapidly turning a shade of bright red–
harrumphed
and yanked his disrespectful apprentice back around by the collar. The halfling Familiar managed to flash Neyalah a grin. Neyalah hid her snort of laughter behind her hand. It was humorous to see the most powerful wizard on Aviara blush so. Rejar had bated the old master perfectly.
"What is it, Charl?"
Salair handed her his cloak and motioned for Yaniff to turnaround again.
Yaniff took her hand. "Tell me, do you remember what planet you were on when this spell was placed upon you?"
"I-I do not. I am sorry."
He gently squeezed her hand. "Try. It is very important."
"I-I just. . ."
"
Picture
it in your mind," he coaxed her. And suddenly she remembered the small town and the little hut with the old woman. . .
Yaniff's eyes became cloudy as he
saw
as well. Then his eyes cleared and in them was knowledge.