Chapter Text
-Novak Land, Gaul, 442; Ostara-
Castiel kneels in the earth, tracing out a sigil for his silent wish, same as last Ostara.
Bright blue eyes close with the fervency of the wish, the words repeated in as many languages as Castiel could remember.
"Again, Castiel?" Micheal chides as his Familiar, a beautiful owl named Analisse, coos at Castiel. "What are you asking for?"
"I cannot say," Castiel frowns at the insistence that he spill this one secret. "It will not come true should I speak it."
"Ah, a wish!" Lucifer teases him gently, the sleek snake that is his brother's Familiar butting Castiel's shoulder with her face. "I think I know what it is but I will keep it to myself."
It is a rather obvious wish, now that Castiel thinks about it, but he is still a child and his Familiar hasn't come yet.
-Novak Castle, France, 1678; Ostara-
This time Castiel has to be discreet about his wish, avoiding his servants and his brothers as he sneaks up to the tallest tower.
Castiel looks up to the stars with his frustration more evident now than it had been so many centuries ago. Everyone in the Novak Wixen family save for himself has a Familiar now, even the youngest of the Novak Clan. Castiel is beginning to think he's broken; that no Familiar wants him at all.
He tries nonetheless, his magic vibrating with the want of that connection, the profound bond between Familiar and Witch something Castiel longs for.
The moon burns brightly but there is no sense that Magic herself has heard his plea.
Castiel sighs heavily as he trudges back to his rooms in the castle, not noticing the concerned looks that pass between his brethren.
-East Coast, New York, 1835-
Castiel looses himself in the city, the growing magic here a distraction from his problem. He discreetly guides fledgling Wixen into their own power, making sure that their Familiar would come within the next five years at the very least, not wanting them to suffer the same fate as himself.
He encounters a demon, though she appears far more intrigued in him than he is in her.
"I'm Meg. You are quite the pretty Witch. Why don't you have one of those hulking protectors that every other of your kind has?" She purrs as Castiel draws a warding sigil in glowing white behind his back. He dodges her touch and trips her onto the devil's trap he's finished in the nick of time. "Touchy subject?"
"I do not need one," Castiel quietly asserts as he summons the gallon jar of holy water to his side. "I can take on many challenges. Should I need assistance there are those who would gladly do so."
"Avoiding my question, Witch."
"Do I need to use this on you?" Castiel bluntly asks as he pours some of the holy water into a cup. "Will you vacate the person you are possessing if I answer?"
"Oh, you are far too easy, Witch boy." She laughs derisively at Castiel.
"Well?"
The demon sighs heavily and vacates the woman, leaving him to catch the still-breathing body as the smoke remains.
"I do not have a Familiar because I was not granted one." Castiel coldly replies. "Now begone before I kill you."
The demon clucks her tongue, "Poor, pretty Witch." The smoke disperses with a cruel laugh.