The Eldest Marked

4. Two of Cups

The thought of making a bond now, only to have it possibly separate later made Winona's stomach turn. The walk to the menagerie was a quiet one, in both their moods and the emptier woods. Sunlight filtered down through the leaves less and less, drawing more shadows to drive people back into the candlelit shops.

Choosing a familiar was a solemn occasion, so bring on the gloom, she thought.

The shopkeep approached them with a familiar on each shoulder, a sleek brown rat, and a large spotted owl. Winona wondered how they felt, being so close to their enemy, or if being a familiar changes the nature of, well, their nature. She had never met a weasel to compare her mother's familiar to, so she wasn't quite sure how it worked. The woman herself was quite elderly, but still walked with her head held high and her back stick straight.

"Ah, such a young girl. Looking for help on your upcoming journey yes?" the shopkeep asked her eyes flickered behind her. "Is that you Demeter? How is your sweet weasel treating you?"

"Why don't you ask him?" Demeter said warmly as she extended her hand to let the creature hop up to see her. The shopkeep scratched under its tiny chin with all the confidence she wished she could have. It was a marvel she wasn't nipped.

"It's always nice to see a charge after so long. And of course, to help along the next generation," she added. "Will you be seeking to bind your own familiar, or seek one whose lost its way?"

She glanced back at her mother, but she remained silent. "I'd like to meet the familiars who are already bound, if I can. If I don't connect with any of them I could still make my own, right?" Winona asked.

The shopkeep smiled enough to crinkle her weathered face all over. "That sounds like a wonderful plan. Follow me," she said. "I'm Warren, by the way."

The room they entered was not what she expected in either feel nor appearance. The room itself was empty, its large space bare except for a soft woolen rug in the middle, and an array of drawers built into every wall. The drawers were small, akin to the medicine drawers at their local doctors. Warren motioned for them to sit. Winona and her mother sat down on the rug without comment.

The woman dismissed her own familiars, and prompted Demeter to do the same. "We will go through them one at a time, rapidly. Then whichever ones you liked we can explore more thoroughly," the older woman said.

"Are they all full?" Winona asked sheepishly.

The shopkeep laughed. "Thankfully, no. I've been very lucky to find homes for many of them recently. Relax, this is supposed to be a joyful occasion," she said.

"It's just such an important decision," Winona said.

"It is, but it is not you who makes it. Consider it fate. Yes, there is some choice involved but you can't possibly make the wrong one. The wrong familiar won't accept your guidance anyway. So don't fret," she said.

The shopkeep opened each drawer on the wall that contained an inhabitant.

The first round did indeed go rapidly. One at a time a container was lifted from the drawer and the stones inside set in her hands. She would call forth the familiar, if she could, and tried to see if they could form a bond. A few stones refused her call, a few set out to attack her, or ignore her once called. All of them were returned to their drawers and closed away.

There were, of course, suitable matches to be found. By the time she was done going through them once, there were five drawers that remained open.

"Any of these will do. But now we must see which is just right," she said. She placed the remaining five back in front of her in a line. They were still within the container their previous owner used to carry them, granting a macabre feeling of loss. Whoever sewed that bag, or carved that box, they were dead, or gone from this world.