Pixies cant see magic, only feel it, but when we’re children we can see it as well; it has to do with how we learn and evolution was kind enough to make it easy on our young. I can remember when I was a child, growing up in the city, seeing magic. It would center on individuals, or places of importance, flowing in and out of things all around me. It only lasts for a few years and most pixies never remember it as adults, like how humans don’t remember how they learned to talk or walk or that red balloon from when they were two, but like humans some of us have the memories camping on the edge of our minds in that hazy twilight between awake and asleep. I have the dream a lot. The blue and red lines, the hazy mist that clings to every living thing, the ebb and flow of those mists like tides coming and going. I hate that dream, it’s very distracting. Imagine if you suddenly remembered how you learned to walk. It would suck, you would be falling all over the place; the process of walking is automatic at this point, thinking about such a complicated concept would fuck you up. Think of it this way, walking is balancing on one leg while falling forward and catching yourself with the other leg. Now think of all the calculations your brain is doing subconsciously during that process and then try to do the math of walking as you’re walking. Fuck you up.
Well thats what seeing magic does to me. Every time I have the dream it takes me an hour before I can forget it enough to actually do even the simplest cantrip. I’m basically blind in one eye and have a club-foot.
I woke up on the seat at the theater, but I was having the dream. In real time. The colors were blinding, and transparent at the same time, like an aurora. Leaning on the back of the seat I clawed my way to a standing position. The credits were rolling and the lights had come on dimly lighting the empty theater. I must have been out for forty five minutes or so.
I closed my eyes and shook my head, trying to clear it, but opening them again the colors persisted. Shit. The cleaning crew was going to be coming in, and I knew there was no way I was going to be able to shift back into the cat. Shit. I closed my eyes again to block it out, and after a few minutes I felt better. The credits had finished rolling and the side show between shows had come on, or so I figure by the lack of sound and the flashing light on my eyelids. The cleaning crew never appeared -- thank god for lazy teenagers -- but I was still in a pickle. I was trying to forget the whole shape changing process so I could do it, but the reminder of all those colors kept getting in the way.
Who the fuck was that?
“Hello?” it was the voice of a young woman.
Oh, fuck. I moved forward to try and get under the seats, but I still had my eyes closed and fell off the edge of the seat. I let out a strangled cry as I hit what I assumed was the popcorn in the discarded bucket I had been munching on.
Turn into a cat. Turn into a cat. Come on Alister you've done this a thousand times. Cat. Cat. Catcatcat!
I felt it! The magic, it tickled for a second.
“Helloooo-oh” she was coming up the steps. “are you here?”
Are you here? Is she looking for me? Fuck that! Catcatcatcatcatcat! Bam! There it goes!
I felt myself shift, quick as a flash; I was a cat again. The woman had reached the last row and was making her way to my bucket. Curiosity, ironically, got the better of me and I opened my eyes to see who this persistent woman could possibly be.
The colors had dulled quite a bit, but still sent my head reeling. Then she stuck her damned head over the edge of the bucket and I nearly went blind she was glowing so bright. Unlike the normal colors of blue and red she was a stark white lined with yellow. I yowled out a scream and closed my eyes against the sudden churning in my stomach, paws coming to my eyes, in what I can only imagine was a humorously human acton for a cat.
The woman laughed “Oooh, a kitteh!”
She actually said it like that with the H on the end, like she was a real life internet cat meme or something.
“I shall call you… Mr. Kitteh” she said in triumph.
Are you fucking kidding me?
And then it all came clear. She had named me after all. See thats the final act of the spell; naming your familiar. It kind of finalizes the whole thing. Snap! I could feel the colors fade.
“Ooh, I can’t see you glowing any more, Mr Kitteh!” she said as she reached in and pulled me from the bucket, cradling me like a baby. She started scratching my chin. The colors must have been some kind of feedback from her while she finished the spell.
Finished the spell. Finished the spell… spell… fuck me. Thats for life. This woman -- scratch that -- girl, was a mage. And she summoned me. I’m bound. For life. To someone that named me Mr. Kitteh.
I passed out.