Chapter 5: Practical Exercises: Familiar Command
The sterile silence of the administrative wing was replaced by the distant, rhythmic shouts and crackles of energy coming from the training grounds. Cedric walked beside Vexia, the Inquisitor’s final words—Try to be less conspicuous—echoing uselessly in his mind. Being conspicuous was now an unavoidable part of his existence, a shadow cast by the four-foot-tall imp whose hand was once again tucked firmly in his.
They emerged from a vaulted archway onto the sun-bleached field. The scale of the training grounds was always a shock; a vast, green expanse scarred by patches of bare earth and the occasional dark streak of arcane backlash. The air here was different—charged, dry, and tasting of ozone and crushed grass. Twelve obsidian pillars, each twice as tall as a man, stood in a wide circle at the field’s center, their surfaces a chaos of etched sigils that seemed to shift if you stared at them too long.
Professor Voss’s class was already assembling near one of the pillars. Samantha Hinkley stood apart, her griffin familiar, a majestic creature with tawny fur and sharp, intelligent eyes, sitting obediently at her side.It was preening a wing, the metallic feathers clicking softly. Samantha’s gaze found Cedric the moment he stepped onto the field. Her expression was a masterpiece of smug satisfaction, confirming Vexia’s suspicion instantly. She’d expected the Inquisitor to drag him away in chains. Seeing him return, pale but whole, twisted her smirk into something uglier.
“Back so soon, Thornwood?” she called out as they approached the group.“No detention?No exorcism?Shame. I thought Order dogs had sharper teeth.”
A few nervous laughs trickled from her circle. Professor Voss, standing with her pixy familiar Bliss zipping anxious circles around her bun, silenced them with a single raised hand. “Miss Hinkley, your continued commentary is testing the limits of academic discourse. And my patience.” Her sharp eyes moved to Cedric.“Thornwood.Join us. We are beginning practical demonstrations of familiar obedience and complex task execution.”
Vexia gave his hand a final squeeze before releasing it. She floated up a few inches, her small wings beating lazily, and settled on top of a nearby fencepost, crossing her legs. “Do pay attention, pet,” she said, loud enough for everyone to hear.“Watch how the proud ones strain. It’s amusing.”
Professor Voss ignored her.She held up a small, clear crystal lens. “The exercise is simple in theory.A target lens will be placed atop one of the central pillars. The familiar must retrieve it and return it to the student.Speed, precision, and the clarity of the command are graded. However, the pillars are enchanted with a mild dispersion field. Direct magical flight or teleportation to the target is inhibited.The familiar must use its own physical and innate abilities.”
She looked at Samantha. “Miss Hinkley. As you are so eager to demonstrate superiority, you may begin.”
Samantha’s smile returned, all sharp edges.She stepped forward, rolling her shoulders back. Her griffin stood, muscles coiling. “Boreas,” she commanded, her voice ringing with absolute authority.“Fetch!”
The griffin needed no further instruction. With a powerful beat of its wings that kicked up a small vortex of dust and grass, it launched skyward. It flew not directly at the pillar, but in a wide arc, gaining altitude. The dispersion field around the pillar shimmered vaguely, a heat-haze distortion. The griffin circled once, then dove, its trajectory a sharp, calculated angle. It landed on the narrow pinnacle of the obsidian with impossible grace, one great talon wrapping securely around the crystal lens. Another mighty leap, and it was airborne again, soaring back in a straight line. It landed before Samantha, bowed its head, and dropped the lens into her outstretched palm.The whole exercise took perhaps fifteen seconds.
A murmur of appreciation went through the class.Even Professor Voss gave a slight, professional nod. “Eight-point-two seconds from command to retrieval.A commendable display of trained obedience and natural athleticism. Well done.”
Samantha accepted the praise as her due, stroking the griffin’s beak.She shot a glance at Cedric that said, Top that.
One by one, other students took their turns. A water spirit slithered up the pillar, leaving a glistening trail.A miniature stone golem climbed slowly, hand over hand. A sylph cat struggled against the dispersion field, its ethereal form flickering.Times were recorded, critiques given.
Throughout it all, Cedric’s anxiety tightened like a screw.He knew what was expected. He was to command Vexia. To issue an order to the being whose will had overwritten his own in the summoning circle. The idea was absurd, a physical impossibility rooted in the very nature of their bond. More than that, the thought of ordering her, of speaking to her in that tone, sent a visceral pulse of wrongness through him.Finally, his name was called. “Thornwood.You’re next.”
All eyes were on him. Samantha watched, hawk-like, eager for his humiliation.Professor Voss observed, her expression unreadable.
Cedric walked to the designated starting line. The obsidian pillar stood fifty feet away, the small crystal lens a glint on its top.He could feel the low hum of the dispersion field against his skin. He closed his eyes for a second, feeling the connection between himself and Vexia—a taut, warm line of shared essence.His mana, still depleted from the morning, flowed weakly on his end. Hers was a deep, vibrant pool, swollen with the strength she had taken from him.
He turned not towards the pillar, but towards the fencepost where she perched. Every instinct told him to submit, to defer. He dropped to one knee in the soft grass, a gesture so spontaneous it drew a gasp from several classmates.
“Mistress Vexia,” he said, his voice clear and carrying across the silent field.He didn’t beg; he presented a problem to his superior. “The task is beyond my capability.The lens is there.I am here.I am… insufficient. Would you… would you aid me?”
A beat of absolute silence followed. Then, a low, rich chuckle from the fencepost.
Vexia uncrossed her legs and floated down, her boots touching the grass without a sound.She sauntered over to him, her tail swishing with delight. She stopped before his kneeling form and reached out, patting his cheek with a proprietary gentleness. “Look at you.So polite. So honest in your inadequacy.” Her amber eyes glinted with cunning. “How can I deny my favorite toy when he asks so sweetly?”
She turned her back on him, facing the distant pillar.She didn’t strain. She didn’t prepare.She simply raised her hand, snapping her fingers with a sound like a cracking walnut.
The air at the apex of the pillar twisted. The dispersion field, designed to disrupt directed magical travel, shuddered. It wasn’t brute-forced; it was bypassed, a needle slipped between the threads of the enchantment.There was no flashy teleport. One moment the crystal lens was on the pillar. The next, it was held lightly between Vexia’s thumb and forefinger.She turned back and looked down at Cedric, still kneeling. With a gracious, almost ceremonial air, she placed the lens into his upturned palm and closed his fingers over it. “There you are, pet. Task completed.”
The silence that followed was profound, broken only by the distant cry of a bird.Professor Voss stared, her spectacles glinting. She looked from the pillar to the lens in Cedric’s hand, her mind undoubtedly racing through the thaumic implications.The dispersion field was still active, humming its negation. Vexia hadn’t broken it; she had simply treated it as irrelevant.
Samantha’s face was a portrait of stunned, furious disbelief.“That—that’s cheating!He didn’t command anything! He didn’t direct the spell! She just—”
“She just retrieved the object, Miss Hinkley,” Professor Voss interrupted, her voice measured but alive with academic intensity. She consulted a slender silver chronometer in her hand.“The exercise was to retrieve the lens via familiar. The parameters of ‘command’ were not strictly defined. The time from the student’s request to the object being in his hand…” She paused, letting the number hang in the air.“Point-six seconds. A new record.”
A kind of dizzying vertigo swept over Cedric. He hadn’t won.She had won, using him as her conduit, her justification. And yet, the victory was his.The warmth of her approval through their bond was a tangible reward.
Vexia grinned, showing all her teeth.She didn’t even look at Samantha. Instead, she offered a hand to Cedric.He took it, and she pulled him to his feet with surprising strength.
“Come, pet,” she said, leading him away from the stunned class. “All this obedience is dreadfully dull. Let’s find someplace you can… recover your strength.” Her tail curled possessively around his wrist. “I have plans for it tonight.”