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- Mearapit the Crow, Trinidad the Witch
On the third street east of the Almhearst square at the intersection of Dragon and Bluebell, down one half flight of stairs and across from Robintin’s Fine and Used Books, lies one of the one of the most poorly kept secrets in Hamitsdown. Here, nestled between a tailor, an alchemist, and just below Melinoe the Psychic, sits the Crone & Feather Bakery, purveyors of fine baked goods and remedies.
The exterior is brown brick with a charming yellow awning, beneath which a short flight of stairs descends half a story, opening into the front end of the business. There are two small tables with mismatched chairs, and a long display case housing the days goods. Popular offerings include the Blueberry Fairy Cake, the Cheerful Chestnut Cookie, and the increasingly requested Chocolate Dollop, a chocolate treat designed by owner and baker, Trinidad, made in-house with her own blessed jams and jellies.
Behind the counter, waiting patiently to take an order from a walk-in (for patrons who prefer to stay at street level, there is a cooper ear set into the side of the building through which they can place an order, and a full purse through which to pay), or explain the many applications of a Tooth-Filling tincture, is the shops second proprietor, Mearapit the crow.
Technically speaking, Mearapit is Trinidad’s familiar, but the two regard each other like something closer to partners than master and bonded.
According to both parties, Mearapit and her witch met quite atypically.
EC: How long have you been with your witch?
MP: Since the fallow of winter some years ago.
TW, from the kitchen: It will be four decades this year, darling.
MP: Some four decades.
While out harvesting late button frond mushrooms one evening, Trinidad stumbled upon a badly injured crow, delirious with fever. Never one to leave a creature to suffer, Trinidad gently settled the bird atop her basket of mushrooms and whisked it away back to her home, where she applied copious bandages and tinctures until it was well again. Four decades later, and Mearapit has never left.
The pair coexisted unbound for years, content simply with enjoyed each others company. Things changed when one day Trinidad found herself preparing for a working that was somewhat beyond her power at the time.
TW: It wasn’t so serious.
MP: She obfuscates. She was on the verge of knowingly draining her soul for a spell.
TW: A child was missing!
MP: And who would have gone to fetch her, had you expired in that divining circle, hm? Certainly not myself, unless you’d had a way to communicate the child’s whereabouts from your untimely grave.
Mearapit, unwilling to see her witch suffer potential casting backlash and knowing that Trinidad was determined to go through with the working, offered to assist by binding her will to her witch.
For those unfamiliar with the subject, a familiar is any creature bound to the service of a magic user by means of a limited power exchange (which is a reductive summation, but it gets the point across). The presence of a familiar augments a magic users power- combining their raw energy/magic/will, however you’d like to call it, to the casters and strengthening their spells. It is inherently beneficial to the magic caster, but often a vulnerable position for the familiar, which has resulted in a wide history of abuse to those in the position of being bound.
Given the givens, it is perhaps unsurprising that Trinidad felt compelled to protest Mearapit’s proposal.
MP: The witch objected quite strenuously.
TW, now hovering in the door, covered in flour and mixing something in a bowl: Of course I objected! Binding has serious implications, and more for you than me.
Trinidad argued didn’t want Mearapit to feel trapped, and she was additionally wary of placing herself in a position to take advantage of her good friend and partner. As a long out-spoken advocate for bonded rights, Trinidad has always struggled with popular familiar culture and its common abuses. She describes herself as being deeply aware of the myriad of ways in which a bonded may be mistreated.
In the end, after many conversations and the allying of fears, Trinidad came down on the side of respecting Mearapit as a creature and her partner who knew her own mind. They came to an agreement, engaged their bond, and have been together ever since.
Not all bound creatures are familiars, but it is currently believed that all familiars are bound, and the familiar bond, however lopsided, is still somewhat of a channel open on both ends. Magic users can push through their familiars as well as pull from them, providing healing and other benefits if desired, but the magic user is generally the person in charge of the tap. In contrast to a familiar, though the nuance is admittedly small, a bound creature is one which is magically tied and subjected to a magic users will in some capacity.
Recent evidence (of which Trinidad and Mearapit have been credited as significant contributors) suggests that the willingness and disposition of the bonded creature influences the strength of the bond and impacts the quality of the energy that can be exchanged. The working theory is that energy given freely is more effective than energy that is taken forcibly. A common analogy compares the exchange to the amount of water left in a cup that someone has handed you, verses one that had to be wrestled for.
Those interested in learning more about magic between bonded pairs in a safe and respectful manner can catch one of Mearapit and Trinidad’s weekly seminars at the Familiar Rights Now headquarters- full schedule available on the organizations pubic bulletin board. Upcoming presentations will cover topics such as how to build a respectful, considerate bond with a familiar/a creature with the potential to be a familiar, and growing your magic in concert with another will.
When the two are not contributing to the study of Bonded Magic or volunteering with local organizations as examples of a healthy bonded pair, the Trinidad and Mearapit can be found happily ensconced in the Crone & Feather.
By all accounts, including her own, Trinidad has no patience for customers or their indecision, and so she leaves the front end of the business to her partner and friend Mearapit, who runs the counter from a perch that stretches from the wall.
TW: I’ve tried doing the taking orders thing time and again, but I seem to put people off. And, well. They put me off.
MP: People generally want to make their own orders, and not have them rung up before they make it down the steps.
TW: Well, then they should order faster. And stop being wrong about what they need.
MP: We’ve found it’s easier if Trinidad leaves the pubic to me.
The bakery is quite popular in its quarter. The business works mostly small magic; little things to help their neighbors, such as sustaining spells in their baked goods, pick-me-pick toffees and other mood-altering treats. They also offer an array of (clearly labeled) pastries that inspire novelty effects when consumed, for the entertainment of their customers. The Sticky Tongue Tart is reported to be quiet popular at children’s birthday celebrations.
Swing by and pick up a Prickle Peach scone and enjoy it for me, because I’m about to embark on a fortnight long march through the marshes for an upcoming feature and will only be able to dream about them (and I will).
Live from the Holler,
-Eze Clearwater
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