Familiarity

Chapter 2

Image: Macauley Iverson (Face Claim Michael Fassbender)

Song: Feed the Machine by Nickelback

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Raegal shivered as the cold air nipped at the bare skin of his arms. Macauley placed a gentle hand on his arm, guiding him further down the garden path to the same hawthorn tree that gave its bark to make the switch that would soon taste his flesh. Standing in a semi-circle in front of the tree were the High Priest and two of his Bishops. To the left of the tree was a circular fire pit. Flames crackled and spit within the pit.

Considine smirked as Macauley passed him. Reaching out, Considine grabbed Raegal's chin, jerking his head around so Raegal looked him in the eye. Malice shone in his eyes. Raegal held his gaze, refusing to whimper and cower like the broken Familiars the High Council favoured.

Considine's malicious smile faded slightly at the blatant disrespect Raegal showed him. "I may not be able to break you, Raegal, but I can take comfort in the fact that I can still make you scream."

Raegal jerked his head out of Considine's grasp. He formed his mouth into something between a grimace and a smile and breathed deeply. Clearing his throat, he forced as much phlegm and saliva from his throat as he could. When he could taste the thickness of the fluid on his tongue, he exhaled and spat the thick fluid at Considine.

Raegal's smile was genuine as he watched the gunk slide down Considine's cheek.

"Raegal!" Macauley's admonishment fell on deaf ears. Raegal wanted to savour the sight, his final act of rebellion before his certain end.

The Bishop closest to Considine stuttered, taken aback at the turn of events. "H-here, my Lord," he stammered out, handing Considine a handkerchief.

Swiping the mixture of saliva and phlegm from his face, Considine turned to Macauley, his grey eyes ablaze with fury. "Remove his collar!" he demanded.

Raegal stiffened at the command. He knew the demand was coming, but now that the words were in the air, he lost some of his earlier courage. The inevitable pain to follow sobered him somewhat.

"My Lord, please. Raegal will be punished for this indiscretion I assure you." Macauley pulled Raegal back as if the distance between Familiar and High Priest would be enough to quench the fire in the older witch's gaze and demeanour.

A second punishment? My, my, aren't I lucky.

"Your mongrel," Considine growled out the insulting term, "has disrespected me for the second time, Iverson."

Oh, is that what you call defending myself from assault, is it? Disrespect? Glad to know we're all on the same page now.

Macauley's eyes flicked briefly towards Raegal, the only indication Raegal's sarcasm shone through the telepathic link between the witch and Familiar. Macauley turned his attention back to Considine.

"Please, he didn't know--" Macauley cut himself off, his gaze lingering on Raegal a little longer.

What didn't I know?

Macauley squeezed his arm, a silent command to stop asking questions. Not that Raegal even asked anything. He may be a disrespectful Familiar by all accounts, but he knew his place. Familiars didn't speak when the High Council were in attendance, but there were no rules stating a Familiar couldn't think.

"Because of that, I lessened his punishment. But for this indiscretion..." Considine held up the handkerchief, "I am afraid I cannot overlook the repeated disrespect. No, you will still give him the switch, but you will remove his collar."