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<span>Spoiler: <span class="bbCodeSpoiler-button-title">Mihai</span></span>
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</div><br/>​</div>It had taken Mihai weeks to perfect the summoning spell to his own liking. Sure, there was a formula for such things that had been passed down over the centuries, but he also knew that the more he could put of himself into that spell, the more successful it would be. He’d heard stories of witches that had not put the effort into such spells to make them their own, only to find the results just as lackluster. And just as binding.<br/><br/><br/>He had taken the requisite salted bath before settling in cross legged in the very center of his bedroom floor in the freshly laundered grey shirt and jeans that his parent’s had recommended as being the least ratty of his bits of clothing. He’d even considered shaving his rough, close cut beard to follow along with the bathing’s purpose of showing respect, but after some inward debates he’d decided to leave it intact. His potential familiar would see him for who he was, and no amount of shaving could change that. Soon he was laying out the extra components needed for a spell of the magnitude he was about to attempt. Three little white candles and a bundle of dried sage that was carefully lit and then put out sat in a staggered row in front of him, the common scent of sage smoke lending the dark haired man some sense of calm.<br/><br/><br/>Mihai let out a deep breath, mottled hazel eyes slipping closed as he spoke words he had carefully constructed. Rather than read them off like some script, he had memorized them to the point where he could say them without missing a beat, instead focusing on pouring his intentions into the sounds that would fall from his lips as he began.<br/><br/><br/>“I have heard your dreams humming a song I must learn. Come show me that trust can be more than earned. I’ve seen things no one can ever find, those visions from a wild mind. I seek out your eyes that do more than see, your mind and heart that may become the key.”<br/><br/><br/>No golden motes heralded the finale of the spell, no whipping winds took up the call of his voice as the echoes of it faded out against the small, cluttered space that was his bedroom. Nothing but a warmth in his chest that grew as he blew out each candle, a persistent heat that seemed to cling to the inner reaches of his body. While it was almost comforting at first as he went about cleaning up his space, he soon found the sensation only proved to keep his mind on the edge of anticipation. He let out a sigh and tried to work with it instead of against it, figuring it must be there to keep his focus steady, to keep is intentions on gaining a familiar active as he waited. He soon longed to be free of it’s distracting presence however, his mind never being allowed to drift very far off course as was its normal routine.<br/><br/><br/>Soon he was attempting a round of dish cleaning to try and clear his head, a trial his mother Liza was still snickering over as she joined the struggling man’s father on the couch with a pair of beers that were flicked open at a touch, a conspiratorial whisper slipping between them as she snuggled in against his shoulder, “Why didn't we make him try that spell years ago, Jim? Maybe he would have been stuck waiting a while, and we could have had our very own cleaner and cook while he was too distracted to do anything else.”<br/><br/><br/>James rolled his eyes but took the offered drink before he continued flipping through the pile of books that was settled to the side of him, “I'm not so sure it works that way, Liz. Were you or your sisters like that when you sought your familiars?”<br/><br/><br/>It was Liza’s turn to roll her eyes though the gesture was followed by a gentle smile, “No, all ours went pretty smoothly. But I'm sure he’ll be fine. If not, then at least the house will be clean.” James laughed a bit too loudly, garnering a confused glance from the younger man at the sink back at the greying couple settled on the couch, only to have his gaze snap to the door as a knock sounded through the modest home.<br/><br/><br/>His fingers slipped from the soapy water of the sink as he took a step towards the door, only to see his mother beat him to the punch, her beer left behind on the end table as her short frame flitted over to pull the door open with a wide smile for the man standing outside, “Oh! Hello! Kasabian, wasn't it? You look taller than last time I saw you, though that must have been a few years back. That shopping trip with Lily. You’re too old to be going through growth spurts, dear.” She blinked a little only to back away from the door to make room for the man when she realized he was still out in the cold “Please! Come on in! You must be here to see Mihai about classes or something, so don't let me keep you out in the cold, dear. Would you like a beer? You’re old enough now, right?”<br/><br/><br/>James had stood and had started dragging Liza away from the door and back to the couch with a chuckle, “Leave them be Liza.” The woman relented with a sigh, setting back onto the couch and trying to busy herself with one of James’ books.<br/><br/><br/>Mihai felt rooted to the spot, fingers dripping down onto the tiles unheeded as he took in this man his mother had called Kasabian, those vibrant green eyes plucking at something in his memory he couldn't quite dredge up, his mind trying to comprehend the details of ‘school’ and ‘Lily’. He finally snapped out of it when the room fell quiet, snagging a towel and stepping forward a bit awkwardly after what passed for hasty introductions, a soft smile playing at his lips as he forgot all about that heated glow in his chest as it seemed to ease, “Hey, I guess she’s talking about UC Boulder?” He offered up a hand to shake, wondering why the man had sought him out, or if his mother's words were even accurate. She often failed to distinguish between the classes he had been taking at the coven and the ones he took for college, leaving him in the dark about whether the man before him was of the magical community. With eyes like that though...