Familiar Bonds Part 3

The dim glow of crystal light bathed the room in shifting hues of green and gold as Bell and Ava sat at the rickety desk. Between them, the small vial of potion gleamed ominously. Ava had already poured her portion into a chipped glass, swirling it idly as she eyed it with suspicion.

“Are we sure this is safe?” Bell asked, chewing her lip. 

“Safe is a relative term,” Ava replied with a smirk, raising her glass in a mock toast. "You want to see the Hat Man or not?"

Before Ava could take a sip, a flash of black feathers swooped down from above. Poe, ever the opportunist, landed on the table and cocked his head, eyeing Ava’s glass with unmistakable interest. 

“Don’t you dare—” Ava began, but it was too late. 

Poe darted forward with surprising precision, dipping his beak into the liquid and taking a sharp sip before fluttering just out of Ava’s reach. 

“Poe!” Ava shouted, leaping to her feet as the raven flapped to the other side of the room, cawing indignantly as if she’d wronged him. “That was my drink, you feathered menace!”

Bell stood up quickly, hands fluttering in mild panic. “Oh no, oh no, Poe, you can’t just drink that! We don’t even know what’s in it!” She turned to Ava. “What if it poisons him? Or—or mutates him? He’s a bird, Ava, not a person!”

Ava crossed her arms, glaring at the raven as he perched smugly on the top of a shelf, his black eyes glinting in the low light. “Serves him right if it does. Maybe he’ll think twice before stealing drinks next time.”

Bell shot her a horrified look. “Ava! He’s my familiar!”

“And a pest,” Ava muttered, though her tone softened just a little. “He’ll probably be fine. He eats garbage, doesn’t he?”

“That’s not the same thing,” Bell fretted, wringing her hands. “What if—” 

Before she could finish, Poe gave an irritable caw and fluttered back across the room, landing neatly on Bell’s shoulder. He tilted his head and let out a low, almost apologetic sound, nuzzling her hair as if to placate her.

Bell sighed, her worry melting into reluctant affection. “You’re impossible,” she muttered, reaching up to stroke his feathers. “But you’d better not start glowing or exploding or something.”

Ava rolled her eyes as she poured herself another drink. “You baby that bird too much. You know that, right?”

Bell ignored her, glancing down at her own untouched glass. With Poe still comfortably perched on her shoulder, she hesitated for a moment, then picked it up. “Guess it’s my turn.”

Poe shifted slightly, as though trying to get a better look at the liquid. Bell gave him a warning glance. “Don’t even think about it,” she said, but there was no real heat in her voice.

As she brought the glass to her lips, Poe gave an approving caw, as if to say, finally. Bell just sighed and took a tentative sip. The sharp, bitter taste sent a shiver through her, but Poe remained unbothered, his head resting lightly against her as if he was more curious about her reaction than the potion itself.

Ava snorted. “You two are insufferable, you know that?”

Bell smiled faintly, wiping her lips. “Maybe. But at least he likes me.” Poe squawked in agreement, and Ava groaned. 

“Great. Now it’s two against one.”

Bell stared at her glass, then glanced at Ava, who was still muttering under her breath about the bird stealing her drink. Taking a deep breath, she tipped the glass back and downed the rest in one go, the bitter alchemical concoction burning her throat. She slammed the glass onto the table, coughing.  

Ava raised an eyebrow. “Show off.” Then, with a theatrical grimace, she gulped her own drink, muttering, “Probably riddled with bird germs now. Disgusting.”  

From Bell’s shoulder, Poe let out a low, throaty cackle that made Bell freeze.  

“Oh, please,” the raven rasped, his voice dripping with mockery. “I’m hardly the worst creature Ava’s swapped spit with.”  

Bell’s face flushed a deep crimson. “Poe!” she hissed, her voice high and mortified.  

Ava choked mid-swallow, nearly spitting the potion out.

Bell swatted at Poe in embarrassment, but he simply fluttered off, still laughing to himself. She groaned, hiding her face in her hands. “I’m so sorry. He doesn’t mean it—he’s just... impossible.”  

Ava waved her off, still coughing but now glaring at the bird. “I swear, that little menace is more trouble than he’s worth.”  

Before Bell could retort, a sudden chill rippled through the room. The potion’s effects hit hard and fast, twisting the edges of her vision. The crystal lamp’s light seemed to flare unnaturally bright, illuminating the space with a piercing, surreal glow. She blinked, dizzy, as shadows warped and danced unnaturally across the walls.  

“Poe?” she called, her voice shaky.  

Ava pointed, her face pale. “Bell… your bird’s not on you anymore.”  

Bell followed her gaze, her stomach flipping. There, in the far corner of the room, Poe perched on a figure that hadn’t been there before.  

The man—or what Bell thought was a man—stood utterly still, his form outlined in stark contrast to the impossibly bright room. He was blacker than shadow, a void in human shape. No details could be made out; he was a silhouette of complete darkness, more like a hole in space than a physical being. The light bent unnaturally around him, and the air itself seemed to hum with his presence.  

Bell stumbled back, clutching the edge of the table to steady herself. Her head reeled just looking at him, like her mind couldn’t fully process his existence.  

“Who—” she stammered, but her voice caught in her throat.  

Then it came—a voice, not from the figure, but inside her head. It was layered, dissonant, and deeply unsettling.  

“You are tethered more deeply than you know,” the voice said, low and resonant, each word dragging across her thoughts like a blade. “Sever the wrong thread, and both of you unravel.”  

Bell gasped, clutching her head. The voice reverberated through her skull, a disorienting, dizzying sensation that made her knees buckle.  

The Hat Man—there was no doubt it was him—turned his featureless head toward her. Poe, still perched on his shoulder, ruffled his feathers but didn’t move.  

“Poe!” Bell shouted, staggering forward. “Get back here!”  

The Hat Man tilted his head slightly, as if considering her. Then, without a word, he stepped backward into the wall, the fabric of reality rippling around him like water. He and Poe disappeared into the void, leaving only silence in their wake.  

Bell fell to her knees, her heart pounding. Ava rushed to her side, her face pale and alarmed.  

“Damn it!” Ava swore, slamming her fist onto the desk hard enough to rattle the empty glasses. “He’s not supposed to interact with us like this! That’s not how it works!”  

Bell just stared at her, still shaken. 

Ava took the nearly empty glasses and splashed their remaining contents onto the floor. The liquid hissed and sizzled, forming a glowing ring of runes that pulsed with an eerie green light.  

“What are you doing?” Bell asked, her voice high and uneven as the room spun around her.  

“I’m opening a portal,” Ava said tersely. “If I move fast, I can still track Poe. But we don’t have long—just as long as…” She grimaced, her face twisting with discomfort. “...as his DNA is still in my system.”  

Bell blinked, horrified. “You mean because he drank from your glass?”  

Ava didn’t answer, choosing instead to mutter an incantation as the runes flared brighter.  

“Oh my gods,” Bell said, her hands flying to her face. “That’s disgusting.”  

“You think I don’t know that?” Ava shot back, still focused on the glowing ring. “Just be glad the potion’s alchemy can double as a tracking spell. If he’s gone for too long, we’ll lose him entirely.”  

The portal finished forming with a loud pop, revealing a swirling, jagged tear in reality. Without waiting for Bell to reply, Ava grabbed her wrist and yanked her toward the opening.  

“Wait—what if it’s a trap?” Bell protested, but Ava’s grip was unyielding.  

“Too late to worry about that,” Ava said. “We’re going!”  

They jumped through.  

Bell landed hard, the ground beneath her shifting unnaturally, like the city itself was alive. She looked up, her breath catching.  

Dûrnarn was there, but not. The layered city she knew, carved into the cliffs and illuminated by magical lanterns, was warped beyond recognition. The buildings twisted at impossible angles, their edges jagged and shimmering like broken glass. The usual vibrant hum of life was replaced by an oppressive silence, broken only by the faint, echoing sound of dripping water.  

The sky above was a swirling, inky void, casting no light yet somehow illuminating everything in a dull, unnatural glow.  

“What is this place?” Bell whispered, shivering.  

“Distortion,” Ava replied, scanning the surroundings. Her face was pale but determined. “The Hat Man’s domain twists reality. It’s Dûrnarn, but through a broken lens.” She held up a small crystal, which glowed faintly. “This should help us track him.”  

Bell reached out, trying to summon Poe. The familiar pull of their bond was gone, replaced by a hollow, aching void that made her knees weak.  

“I—I can’t feel him,” she said, panic rising in her chest.  

Ava glanced at her, her expression grim. “That’s part of the trap. He’s cutting you off to weaken you.”  

“But what if he’s…” Bell’s voice broke, her hands trembling.  

“He’s not gone,” Ava said firmly, gripping Bell’s shoulder. “We wouldn’t be able to track him if he—” She stopped herself, her mouth tightening into a thin line. “You’d know. We just have to move fast.”  

Bell nodded, swallowing hard, though the emptiness inside her made her feel as though she might collapse.  

As they ventured deeper into the distorted city, shadows seemed to move at the edges of their vision, flickering just out of sight. The air grew colder, heavier, with each step.  

“Poe,” Bell whispered into the silence, her voice cracking. “Please. Just give me a sign.”  

The only response was the echo of her voice, twisted and warped as it bounced back to her.  

“Keep moving,” Ava urged, clutching the glowing crystal as it pulsed faintly. “If we stop, he wins.”  

But with every step, Bell couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched, the void where Poe’s presence should have been growing darker, colder, more suffocating.  

And somewhere, faint and mocking, she thought she heard the Hat Man’s layered, dissonant laugh.