Disclaimer: I do not own DanMachi or any of the Omori's original characters, nor do I make any profit off of my writing.
"I can't believe it."
Bell turned to face his mistress with a raised eyebrow. "But you gave me the spellbook?"
Lenoa waved him off as she took a step closer to the youngish girl. How old would she even be considered? Twenty minutes? Or the twenty some odd years that she looked? It was a real grey area for the drinking age laws.
Also, consent.
Lenoa really wished she wouldn't have to worry about consent laws.
She didn't get paid enough for that.
Well, she didn't get paid anything, perhaps she could contact Fels-sama for a guild stipend when she officially takes Bell on as an apprentice.
Which opened up her entirely different problem.
Taking Bell on as an actual apprentice.
The first issue was that Bell was incredibly annoying. He was young, brash, and stupid. So stupid. The boy put almost no thought into anything he did ever. In all honesty, that would have been fine, he would fit right in with the rest of the adventurers in the city, the issue just so happened to be that his moral compass rivaled Lady Astraea's. Nobility and foolhardiness were a quick ticket to an early grave.
The second issue was tied to the first one. The primary source of her annoyance with the boy derived from his insistence on the existence of witchcraft in the world. It was a ploy. Fake. A jest. It wasn't real.
So how did he perform that spell?
As far as she knew the boy had no falna nor any elven blood. It shouldn't be, by any stretch of the imagination, possible. It was unheard of.
There were two types of magic, acquired and congenital. Elves could perform congenital magic, as could some other races. Humans did not rank amongst them. And acquired magic was wholly impossible without a falna. That's what made it acquired.
So how?
Lenoa scanned the girl's face again. Yellow, slitted eyes darted about the room as she took in the world around her with unending enthusiasm. Eyes that looked unnervingly like those of the bloodsaurus she had jokingly added to the recipe. Her skin was pale and her hair brown.
She was the spitting image of a member of the Cat people. (Nyanderthals, if you will.)
Except she wasn't.
She had no memories, she only referred to Bell as master even after his insistence for her to stop. She didn't even know her own name.
To make matters worse? She referred to herself as a familiar.
A witch's familiar.
And Bell was her witch.
Which, naturally, meant that Lenoa was her—
"Nyaa! Grandmistress, I want to eat this lava water!"
Lenoa sighed. "It's called stew, dear." A scoff. Lava water. Ridiculous.
—her grandmistress. Because what else would she be called? Her name? Never.
The pair of witches, mentor and mentee, jumped in sync as a voice piped up from behind them. "Perhaps you should name her?"
Oh. That's right. Her customers were still here. It only made sense, she never gave Riveria her repaired staff, after all. It just had the added bonus of the high elf getting to see her life fall apart around her.
Lenoa sighed, setting the comment aside for later. She'd taken to calling the familiar 'Headache,' the dumbass who spawned her could figure out a name on his own.
"Give the idiot a blessing and I'll cut the price in half."
At least then she'd have a bit of insight on whatever this is.
Hopefully.
She really didn't know.
She prayed it was just a skill.
Please, Kami. Just let it be a skill.
"Why not have your god bless him?"
Lenoa fixed her with a scrutinizing look. "Do you see Lord Veles around? Hmm?"
The high elf at least had the decency to look sheepish.
"Alright! Out, out! Everybody out! White-haired one— "
"Bell," he amended with just enough exasperation to suggest it wasn't the first time this had happened.
" —whatever. Take the headache with you to Lady Loki. She'll give you a blessing."
Bell turned to the two elven ladies, ignoring the younger one's heated glare. "Will she?" He knew who they both were. Nine Hells and Thousand Elf. Rather infamous in the world of magic. A world he was now wholly a part of.
Riveria nodded after a moment of consideration. "Money and entertainment, all you need is a bottle of wine and that's everything she's ever wanted." She paused before glancing over at the familiar's.. chest? "Well, everything that you can offer."
Weird.
Bell turned to face Lenoa with a cock of the head.
"What will you be doing, mistress?"
"What did I say about that name, boy!?"
"Uhh.. "
He honestly didn't remember. Had she said something about that? He probably hadn't paid any attention to what she said. It'd become a habit of his to only really tune into anything pertaining to witchcraft.
Lenoa scowl deepened and flung her hand out in a 'shooing' gesture. "I'm visiting somebody, now go!"
Bell did exactly that. He did not want to disappoint his mistress.
His familiar, though, had other plans. Instead choosing to crouch low and throw herself toward the elderly woman in an undignified pounce. Her tail curled around the older woman's back as she embraced her in a hug. "Bye, grandmistress!"
A sigh. "Goodbye, headache." She gave an awkward pat on the girl's head before watching her scamper away to Bell's side on all fours. As soon as she reached him, she stretched up to her full height (a full half foot shorter than him) and grabbed a hold of his arm. Almost immediately, she began pulling him along in a random direction, asking all kinds of questions.
"What is that?"
"A- "
"Or that!"
"That's the- "
"Oh~ is that food?"
"No, it's- "
"Why is he so ugly?"
"Uhhh- "
"What is she wearing?"
"Overal- "
"Can I have that?"
"You need vali- "
"What's your favorite color? Mine's blue! The color of all fish everywhere!"
Lenoa withheld her sigh of exasperation up until the point a market stall collapsed in on itself and several children were sobbing on the street corner.
They hadn't even left her sight yet.
Fels better have some gods damned answers about what the hell is happening and why she has a walking disaster as her grandpupil now.
Still, it didn't change the small amount of affection building up in the old, not-a-witch's heart.
"What's that called?"
"A jaga- "
"And that?"
"That's a- "
"Oh! What about that!"
For the first time since they had left the store, the girl paused to take a breath.
They were halfway across the city already.
She hadn't given them time to answer anything the entire time.
She turned to face Bell. "What am I called?"
Bell blinked.
"Ahhh- "
She was putting him on the spot! He turned to look at his two future familia members. They both looked away, the traitors.
"Y- yo- y- you- "
The girl blinked, her head tilting to the side as she tried to piece the weird sounds together. "Ahyu?"
"A- An- Anya!"
What the hell is an Anya!? He never should have been trusted to name her!
She blinked.
She blinked again.
Her tail fidgeted behind her.
She blinked again.
Her ear twitched.
She blinked again.
"Anya."
Bell nodded quickly, barely squeaking out an 'mhmm!'
"Anya," she reaffirmed.
"Yes!"
".. "
".. "
".. "
".. I love it!"
".. you do? I mean of course you do! I knew you would!"
Thank the gods. That was more stress than Bell had ever dealt with before. He hadn't expected to have a familiar who could express their acceptance of a name. Even new parents named their kids when they were babies. Anya (and he liked it even more now) was fully (maybe, partially) intelligent and could fully decide if she liked the name or not.
Far more different from the black cat or bird he'd been expecting when he started the ritual.
Didn't witches usually have one of those?
He mentally ran through the list of things that had drawn him toward witchcraft as a child.
Pointy hats? Check, Lenoa had those in stock.
Broom sticks? He'd been hit by his fair share of those when the ladle was out of reach.
Magic? Obviously.
Animal familiars? Yeah. That was definitely on the list.
He supposed Anya was kind of a cat? A cat girl, more accurately. He doubted cats or cat people would appreciate being considered one in the same.
Really, all he needed now was a bog and he'd be set for life.
His brief moment of peace was interrupted as Anya restarted her fervent questioning of the world.
What was that saying again?
Curiosity killed the cat?
Because right now—
"What's my last name? You have one, right? I know! I'll just take yours! I can be your wife!"
—it felt more like the cat's curiosity killed her witch.
Either it was going to by death by incessant, accidental flirty from a familiar or the exceptionally angry, blushing she-elf chanting a spell beside him was.
"Unleashed streak of light, bow limbs of the holy- "
He should have just been a hero like his grandfather wanted.
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