Flash Fiction #640 -- Spirit Animal

 Becoming the spirit animal for a human was supposed to be a reward, not a new trial to overcome. Yes, I made some mistakes off the start, but it wasn't my fault.  

According to my assignment info, which included a picture, Aren was a Captain in the King's Guard, a war hero at barely twenty years old, and a scholar.  That sounded like an exciting pairing and I accepted.

For a Spirit Animal manifestation to work, there are a couple steps to follow.  First, the aura of someone worthy of our help, touches upon our realm.  Extensive study is made of past deeds and potential actions.  

The fae get more spirit animals than humans.  They're easier to read and predict actions.  Humans have too many mental options and gray areas.  It isn't unusual for there to be only one in a million with a spirit animal to help them along.

Aren looked almost as pure as a fae.  After an eon of desk work, I jumped at the chance to go back into the field.  I wondered what his subconscious would make of me.  Lion?  Bear?  Dared I hope for a dragon?

If someone had told me that there were twins involved, I would not have bonded with the wrong one.

Maybe I was too anxious.

He took note of me, a vague shape at the edge of a plot of flowers.  I could already sense his thoughts, although they seemed odd ...

What is that? Oh, it must be a bunny!

Goddess, no! Don't let me --

I was a bunny. An enraged bunny, in fact. I gave a battle cry of power (I'll leave you to imagine that one) and charged straight at Aren.

Someone scoped me up and I found myself staring into ... Aren's face. Only Aren still sat on the bench with his book in hand.

"Is this yours, Aten?" he said with a slight sneer and held me by the back of my neck.  I was not impressed.  I also had the feeling I was in danger.

Aren, Aten.  Two of them and I had bonded with the wrong one.  Or maybe I had gotten lucky.  Aren tossed me at his brother who leaped to his feet and caught me before I landed in the thorny rose bushes.  He cradled me in his arm and patted my head.

"You are useless," Aren declared, spun on his heel, and headed back the way he had arrived.  I had the distinct impression that he couldn't remember why he was heading this way.

"That was a close one," Aten mumbled.  He gathered up the book he'd been reading.  I noted it was very old and worked with magical signs.   Well.  That might change things.

We headed into the castle via the kitchen garden and door.  Several workers looked up, nodded, and went back to work.  I had the feeling Aren wouldn't have won such a good reaction.

"He's rude to everyone," Aten said aloud.  "The only time he's happy is when he's at war or making someone's life miserable."

You can hear me.

"Mother's fault," he mumbled and fell silent as they started up a staircase. Once he was certain no one was around, he continued.  "Mother knows enough magic to be dangerous.  She wanted a super powered prince.  She didn't realize there were two of us."

Seems to be a lot of that going around.

"Aren got decisive warrior prince.  I got sensitive magical prince.  I think she read too many fairy tales growing up."

He fell silent as we made our way down a busy hallway. Harried servants nodded and smiled at Aten as we passed.  Of course, we ended up in the castle's archive and library. Aten closed the door with a sigh of relief.

Life went about the same for the next twenty days.  I transitioned from spirit animal to familiar, meaning I had a far closer relationship to Aten and could tap is magic.  I could even run a few errands, like checking up on Aren.

It didn't take long to realize that he was planning to start a war.

"Of course, he is," I said and nibbled on a carrot top that Cook Mysen had saved for me. "His only purpose in life is to win battles and rule people."

"Mother is holding him back from the second.  How do we stop a war?" Aten asked.

"I think I have a plan."

The set up took seventeen days.  Aden had to get used to seeing me out in the cage set up in the garden.  More than once he made mention of dinner and rabbit stew.  If I had been a real rabbit, I wouldn't have understood a word he said. What pleasure did he get out of it?

Aren's Raiders -- the ones no one was supposed to know were his -- kicked up enough trouble at the border to be one step from a war.  So, as he was going down the stairs for breakfast, I used a quick spell to teleport myself behind him, braced my legs and leaped, hitting him mid-back with all the force I could manage.

He screamed before he fell and broke his arm and leg.  For months he claimed his brother's rabbit had tried to kill him.  Aren didn't care that his mother said she'd been in the garden with me at the time of the accident.

His obsession with murderous bunnies lost him the support of the army. I probably didn't help by waking him in the middle of the night for conversations, and disappearing before anyone could come at his yells.

It would take some time to rebuild that trust.  They would be less likely to follow him on some odd quest, too.

Even better, in his long convalescence, Aren learned that if you are nice to servants, they'll be nice to you.  He came out of it a much better person.

Aten and I spent our time in the archives planning on how to take over the world...