Awareness. That’s what he was first aware of. For the first time, he was conscious of being…being. Where he hadn’t existed before, now he did, and this was an immensely curious experience.
Knowledge. That came next. An instant later, in fact, even before he could really begin to appreciate his newfound state of existing in any sense, his mind was flooded with faculty. He all at once knew how to clean, and to cook, and to mend (notably hearts as well as fabrics, if the need arose). He knew all these things, and he knew he was good at them. What the significance of these things was, he wasn’t sure yet, but he knew that he could do them and be good at them if asked.
After knowledge came the assurance that the application of said knowledge was what he was meant to do. His calling was to serve, his purpose to dutifully obey and perform the tasks which he had a moment before been granted mastery over. That was all well and good, but what still seemed to be lacking was, firstly, a form with which to accomplish his function, and secondly, someone to serve.
After a moment more, flesh suddenly knit itself over a sudden set of bones, and the former issue of this fresh consciousness's form was neatly resolved. He had hands and feet and could cook and clean just as he knew he was meant to. Excellent.
The witch’s familiar laid his eyes upon the hunched old woman who had summoned him, and his newly-crafted heart swelled at the thought of being able to live and serve alongside her--
What’s this? No? The witch wasn’t to be his mistress, but the terribly disgruntled feline beastfolk standing next to her? Arms crossed, face scrunched up in a frown, eyes betraying a young soul which had already suffered a lifetime of hardship? This was to be the familiar’s mistress? Well that was well and good; the rules didn’t say he had to be bound to the person who had called him. Yet as the familiar understood it, and he understood a great many things, however inexplicably, in order to serve he first required a name--
“Daniel.”
And so, the matter of his employment was settled.
Cozette had endured. In a world that hated her kind, a world that had fostered her father’s betrayal and the loss of her innocence, she had weathered the tide of innumerable days of suffering. She had survived, and she was driven by anger and bitter resentment to right the wrongs which had been dealt to her.
Yet Cozette needed help. She had been left the house in which she had been raised, which was practically falling apart from ill maintenance. Though she hated it for all the memories it contained, it was her only refuge, and the only place she could begin staging her revenge. The house needed to be restored and maintained, so that Cozette could focus on setting her plans in motion. But where would she find her help? The staff was gone, her family was half of the problem, and Cozette was well past begging for help from the world that had scorned her. The only help that her world could provide was temporary assistance in creating a servant who would remain loyal to her no matter what. There was no room for any more betrayal.
Under cover of darkness, guided only by moonlight-- The moon! Stars! The familiar, Daniel, knew that he knew about the night sky, but this had been his first time actually seeing it. Had it not been for his new mistress’s urging, he would have spent all evening staring at the cosmos.
By the light of the moon, the pair made their way to Cozette’s home. Even in darkness, Daniel could tell the house was in serious disrepair. He shivered, his essence humming with anticipation to get to work and begin fulfilling his purpose. All Daniel needed was a command from the girl. After all, what was a servant without direction? His name properly bound him to Cozette, finalizing their magical contract, but it was only on her word that he could really begin helping her. A command fueled by strong intent was all it would take to set Daniel to work transforming this decrepit piece of property into a respectable residence.
Daniel followed his mistress into the house. The strong scent of dust and grime only intensified the compulsion to clean and cook and mend. Daniel held his breath as Cozette turned to him. In the near-darkness of the house, her eyes seemed to glow. What would mistress ask of him first? The shingles needed replacing, that was for sure. The door was askew from its frame, that could merit fixing too. Maybe she wanted a warm meal first thing after their hurried flight through town? Anything she needed, anything that would help alleviate the damage inflicted on her heart and soul, Daniel would do it.
Finally, the command came.
“Don’t ever lie to me. You must always tell me the truth.”
Daniel promised then that he would not let Cozette down.
It was a challenge, finding a magic user willing to perform the ritual for Cozette. The world’s human population would have rather seen her dead than receive any sort of advantage, while her fellow beastfolk were all in hiding from that same threat. The latter option seemed to be the safest. Cozette had little trust left to give, and she needed someone who could cast the spell correctly and cast it in secret. Someone of mixed blood, someone like her, would have sympathy for Cozette’s plight. Maybe they would even give her a discount.
Cozette did a little digging and found a kemonomimi spellcaster willing to do the job. Far from offering her a discount, the woman charged Cozette nearly all the money still left to her, the price of a job well done and of her secrecy in the matter. After a demonstration of her power, to assure Cozette that she had the magical chops to summon a familiar, the witch began the ritual.
Less than a second later, in the time it took for awareness, knowledge, direction, flesh, and bone to form into a complete being, Cozette was staring across the room at her new servant.
One night, after a month’s worth of refurbishing the old house, Daniel awoke to a scream. It could mean only one thing: His mistress was in danger. Daniel ran from his bedchambers, slipping and skidding across the newly-lacquered floors toward the source of the sound. He nearly threw the door off its polished hinges in an effort to reach Cozette.
The curtains were drawn, but filtering through the space between them was the light of a moon much like the one when Daniel had first arrived. In the dim light, he could make out his mistress, lying down huddled on the bed, sobs wracking her body and threatening to crescendo to another piercing scream. Quickly, but quietly, the familiar moved to the side of Cozette’s bed and laid a hand on her shoulder, trying not to wake her too abruptly.
Her eyes open, staring and still filled with tears, the after-image of whatever nightmare had troubled her still clear in her mind. Carefully, Daniel climbed into bed with Cozette and held her close while his mistress, normally so cold toward him, held on in return. Even after the first month of his existence, Daniel still didn’t know what had happened to Cozette. All he knew was that she needed healing, and that healing could often take time. As Daniel sat there holding Cozette, he knew her healing had only just begun.
Powerful magicians in Cozette’s world create familiars not based on feral animals, but on animal-human hybrids much like the beastfolk race to which Cozette belongs. When she told the witch she had enlisted that she ‘didn’t rightly care what ears and tail the familiar was decorated with, just do your damn job already,’ the witch, not devoid of a sense of irony, gave Daniel attributes of a canine.
Cozette, we will remind the reader, is a cat.
What breed of dog Daniel receives his dog-attributes from is mostly unclear. His brown ears are floppy and his tail is furry enough that it sheds during the summer months, though Daniel sees to it personally that none of his hair is left behind. The hair on his head is a darker brown than on his ears and tail, but not by much. His eyes are deep and honest globes of vibrant...brown. Naturally.
Daniel’s skin is as white as the day is long, though not quite as pale as his mistress Cozette’s.
Daniel’s clothes are magically generated by his body. As the need demands, he can seamlessly shift out of his butler’s uniform and into a handyman's outfit.
As a familiar, Daniel is physically strong, magically capable, and fairly indestructible, though enough force or a powerful enough spell could likely unmake him.
Daniel didn’t enter the world with a surname, but he felt it was appropriate that he have one, even if it wouldn’t be used very often. When he asked Cozette for one, she gave him the honor and the privilege of inventing one for himself. After much thought, he settled on “Obrove.” Daniel Obrove. It just seemed right somehow.
The familiar Daniel Obrove is the alternate universe analogue of the baker-animist Daniel Obrove. He is not his former life, his blood relative, or a close acquaintance. He's the Obrove if Obrove were a magical butler helping to make one girl’s hard life a little easier, while the culinaromancer is Obrove in the form of a baker inclined toward baking things to life!
More of the Obrove household can be found on their alt list, here.
There are more "Danalogues" to come, eventually, so we kindly ask that you...
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