Familiar Situation

Young Arian walked into the moonlit glade by the burbling stream. He had put a lot of thought and effort into finding the perfect location to represent of gentler side of nature. The less taint of civilization the better chance he had of finding what he was looking for. But too wild and what he would find might be too dangerous for him.

Arian found a bare patch of dirt and put down his sack beside it, and opened the sack to the light of the full moon and began to work. First he made sure the patch was clear of all obstructions before taking out small covered bowl and put in the middle of the clearing. Removing the cover to reveal the all so expensive honey and put the cover down and used it like a plate on which he put a small cup and filled it with milk from a skin. Then he took out a silver dagger and with it pommel carefully traced a perfect circle in the dirt before he took some bread and laid it upside down. Then taking the dagger he contrasted his magic to a finger tip and pricked it with the dagger's tip, so that the magic and the iron in his blood on the bread would set the trap he had baited as he turned the bread over to hide what he had done.

Reaching out with his magic to weave sent out an underpowered vibration that should get the attention of a hopefully near by fae. If he had fully powered it the spell was designed to compel a fae to come and listen to what he had to say, but they could call a sídhe or some other greater seelie, and not only was that too dangerous for him, and not all what he want, but under-powered they should ignore it, and merely draw a curious pixie. He wished he could had had looked in his master collect for a pixie true name, would have guaranteed him what he wanted, but those were in the tomes forbidden to him, and that was more trouble than his backside could handle, he was being cheeky enough.

Putting the dagger back in his sack, he hid and though about why he spent ever last copper he had on what he was doing.

His master had told him that the next key step in his apprenticeship, was to find a familiar. His master said it should be 'a being of nature with a compatible personality' to Arian that he could 'get in agreement with and show mastery over'. His master had meant for Arian to find some animal like Felix, his master old tomcat familiar, but he had listened carefully to the actual words of the requirement, and realized animals weren't the only source and could actually choose something better and a lot more fun.

Arian did not have to wait long to see that the spell had had it's desired effect as a pixie came flying lazily down the lay-line that was the stream this side of the nevernever. It look like doll-sized male human with gossamer dragonfly-like wings trailing silvery pixie-dust. He sniffed something on the wind and with a burst speed he headed straight to Arian's bait. Arian had spent a lot of time making his containers, taking care to shape them without the touch of iron so not to leave any taint and put the pixie on guard; it had worked. The pixie alighted next to bowl without noticing the circle he was in. The pixie grabbed the bread and began to dunk it into the honey and wash it down with the milk. As the pixie ate the blood Arian felt a tug at his power as the circle closed. Arian waited for the pixie to sate himself and notice he was trapped.

The pixie patting his belly after he finished and started to zip off, just to bounce off the invisible barrier inscribed by the circle and land hard on his bottom. Arian had to laugh as comical way the pixie rubbed it's bottom when it stood back up sending off a shower of pixie-dust, a move Arian was very familiar with. So he stood from his hiding place and walk over the the circle, stopping well clear so not to accidentally kick any dirt and break the circle.

The pixie spotted Arian and said in it's quick childish voice, “A mortal youngling? This is your doing? If it is you better release me, unless you want me to cures you with the night waters!”

“Greetings my dear pixie. Yes it is my work that has bound you. My I have a name to call you by?”

The pixie gave him a slight grin, “I give you a name, and you release me mageling?”

“No, just so that I make have something to call you according to the courtesies of the accords, So we can talk about what will release you.”

“You may call me Penpen, mageling. Release me now and I will not tattle on you to Queen Titiana.”

“Hah the Summer Queen would be more mad at you for falling for a milk and honey trap than at me. You may call me, Arian,” he said. While Penpen will not be the pixie's true name, giving him just his first name from his own limps is safe enough.

Penpen stomped his foot with another shower of pixie-dust. “Very well Arian the mageling, what deal do you wish to strike with the mighty Penpen for my freedom?”

“I want you to become my familiar,” Arian admitted bluntly. He knew that fae value the truth, but only the literal truth, it was like a game with them. But if this works Penpen will be his near constant companion for the rest of his life, he did not want a fae — even one of the seelie court — that felt tricked that close to him. The seelie court is bound by their nature to honor all favors but that also applies to insults as well.

Penpen's eyes widen, “And just what makes you think that I would go for such a bargain?”

“Well the bond created by your submission is not one way. Not only will it strengthen my link to the weave of life though you, but you on the other will gain power as I gain power. You will over my life become more than just a pixie in power, hence in status in your Queen's court. And once I'm gone you keep what you had gained. And while I'm a mortal, you are not so. And young as I am, the time will be nothing to you. So if I free you will you promise go though with the bonding ritual?”

Penpen sat down cross-legged and put his chin in his hands and thought it though. Pixies are only foot soldiers in the seelie court, and basically have to serve someone, and the magi are respected, even if Arian was only a mageling it was no real dishonor, And this was a rare opportunity to rise in the court.

Penpen rose and stood with solemn dignity, “Very well I will promise.”

Arian smiled but did but did not get carried away and asked again, “You promise to be my familiar?”

Penpen huffed, but said, “I promise to be your familiar.”

But again Arian asked, “You promise to faithfully serve me?”

Penpen stopped his foot impatiently, “Yes I promise.”

“Promised three times, hence three times bound,” Arian declared for his master's books were very clear that anything important with the fae should be thrice promised for it be fully binding to them. And with a wave Arian dismissed the circle.

Penpen flew up and zipped around to prove to himself he was free. “So Boss, what's next,” he said when he came back to hover in front of Arian.

Arian picked up his sack and said, “You'll follow me and we will begin the ritual.”

He lead Penpen over to a fallen log and put down his sack and opened it while he directed Penpen to land in front of him. Arian pulled a hairbrush from his sack. The honey had cost him a pretty copper, but had not been the most expensive item he had bought for this ritual. For the flat-back oval hairbrush was inlaid with a vine pattern — in cold iron.

His master had not being specific to Arian about what the ritual had detailed. For with ritual magic the power isn't in the objects or the actual words used in them, but the meaning they have for the person doing the ritual. And Arian — despite his talent — was still a child himself and his chosen familiar was humanoid, so the ritual to show acceptance and mastery over his familiar was taken from that context.

“Ok, Penpen,” Arian said in as firm a tone he could muster. “Lets get started. Lay yourself over my lap.”

Penpen half flew and half clambered into position, laid as though he were a doll over his masters lap. This comparison reassured Arian who preceded to lift the hem to Penpen's green tunic revealing a very human like bare bottom to the evening sky.

Hefting the hairbrush, Arian applied the flat back to Penpen's exposed nates. Penpen yelped, the inlaid cold iron caused the brush to ignore the pixies' supernatural toughness so that even from a arm as young as Arian the spank truly hurt.

“Ouch,” Penpen complained, “This game is not fun!”

“It's not a game Penpen, it's a spanking,” said Arian in explanation as he brought the brush down again. “As with a adult to a child, a spanking is a ritual to show who is in charge. So be it with master and familiar.”

Arian used his other arm to keep a firm hold around Penpen's waist — being careful not to crush the pixie's gossamer wings.

Penpen was finding out quite painfully what a spanking really was. While pixies will general avoid non-magi adult humans, they are fond of playing with human children as they come up with the most wonderful games to play. With his own seat getting warmed he now understood why those playmates complained about unseelie faeries who tricked them just to watch them get spanked.

Arian had considered the fact that a token spanking might satisfied the ritual magic requirements. But from his own experiences over his parent's and master's lap that the there was a deeper magic point involved. So he kept on reddening Penpen's bottom with the special hairbrush, past the protests, past the squirming, until there was just and accepting sobbing where Penpen reached the submissive realization that this spanking was out of his control and will only end when his new master though it was enough.

Sure of the establishment of the mystical connection Arain end the ritual properly; with a hug.