A Bond Born in Blood

[Nevin]

The bird, still ‘nameless’, trilled happily at the blood mage, amused by his sudden realization. It flared its wings once while its chest rose and fell rapidly and Nevin realized the damned thing was laughing at him. He scowled and crossed his arms over his chest as he waited for the bird to respond. It seemed to know more about what was going on here than Nevin did, and was at least willing to answer his questions - that is, when it wasn't laughing its beak off at him.

A few moments passed before the bird had seemed to catch its breath, and it closed its eyes as it chirped a happy note in his direction. Nevin frowned as the meaning came to him. “Bond?” Flutes. "The fledgling - don't make puns! - bond between us is letting me know what you want to say. Riiiight.” The bird began bobbing its head rapidly, trying to reinforce what it had told him. It trilled again, a flourish of pipes that seemed joyous. “Showing signs already? Wha-” The red on its feathers.

If the blasted bird had already begun bonding to him, then of course it… Wait. Did that mean the bird’s innate magic had found his? “Did you only start looking for me after your feathers began to change color?” This seemed to be the case, as the bird shuffled on the counter, trying not to look on his direction for a moment. Then it played a sad, small set of notes, ducking its head down and making itself look as small as possible.

“I…” Crimson take it this bird was tugging at his heart and it was working. “I'm not mad if that's the case. So you were following our bond to me, that’s what you really meant by you could sense my magic.” At least it didn't seem like the corvid had actually been sensing his blood magic, just his magic in general. The bird lifted its head up, looking hopeful. Nevin sighed and shook his head. “Alright, fine. We have something of a bond formed. And what, you want to make it better, more secure or something?” Long, slow notes that sped up for a few seconds once or twice filled the air, and Nevin’s eyebrows rose to his hairline.

“You're not full grown? Really now.” That was a shock, the bird was already a fair bit larger than most corvids that Nevin knew of. A quick head bounce before another set of flute notes. “I see. I don't know what to make of it that your magic matched mine well enough to bond over a distance, but if your parents swear that's what happens normally anyway I can't really argue that fact. You won't get that much bigger, will you?” A head shake followed by reprimanding notes. “Don't take that tone with me young lady. My shop barely has room for me as it is, if you get too much bigger you won't be coming inside!” This seemed to distress the bird, as its claws began scratching at the wood beneath it - exactly like an upset child kicking their feet after being told something they didn't want to hear.

[Nevin]

Nevin stared at the clearly upset bird on his counter, and felt a headache forming behind his eyes. He reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose, counted to ten, and took a deep breath before opening his eyes again. The corvid had stopped in mid scuff and was staring at him with one ruby eye, and he felt certain that there was a hint of wateriness to that orb. A long hissing sigh escaped him and he shook his head.

“I said if you got much bigger, not that you couldn't be in here now. I am certainly not about to put you back outside with a bunch of irritated and tired men who would probably quite happily make you lunch - why are you looking at me like that.” The red-tinged bird was now staring at him with what seemed to be unbridled joy gleaming in the eye he could see. Her head snapped forward - when had he started associating the bird with being female? - and Nevin barely had time to react as she launched herself from the wood, just barely avoiding crashing into anything.

Anything, that is, aside from her target. Nevin had a half second of time to brace himself before the bird plowed into him, using its claws to grab ahold of his tunic and holding itself against his chest. He stood there, dumbfounded, as an energetic and triumphant flute played. It took a few moments for the happy animal to finally let go, flopping to the floor and barely catching herself. The proud corvid strutted back over to the counter and hopped up onto it, flapping her wings to keep her balance. Nevin had cautiously followed, trying to figure out just what it was that he had said or implied that had caused the joy in the bird in front of him.

More joyful notes sounded out, and Nevin involuntarily reached out and started scratching the back of the bird’s head, watching as she closed her eyes and leaned into his fingers. Nevin sighed - apparently this bird had decided she was attached to him and not going anywhere without him or vice versa.

The man sighed. He had no idea on what to do about raising a bird? Did she need to be trained? Hell what even was she, he couldn't just keep calling her ‘magical corvid’ that wasn't appropriate at all! Then he remembered something he had gotten distracted from earlier and pulled his hand away, studiously ignoring the sad look that she gave him when she opened her eyes.

“I still need a name to call you. Something to identify you to other people and for me to say to get your attention.” A curious trill of flutes. “No I am not carrying a set of pan pipe flutes around to play that long identifier. People don't need to know your lineage back three generations every time I try to talk about you.” Sad flutes that perked up. “Alright. Alright. How about… Yes, I think Aphrael suits you quite well. What do you think?” The bird sat, staring at him for a long moment, then gave a cautious trill of her strange notes. She fluffed her wings once, and distinctly nodded.

“Well alright then. Aphrael it is. Or Flute, since that's what you sound like. I'll probably use both, though.” Happy notes chimed in his ear as she peered at him.