A Summoner's Calling Read online

  Then a black shadow grows under her as she follows it back to Kosmos. “We won’t be having any of that. Let me show you what I can make you do with that power.” A galactic darkness spiders up her arm to her temple. Visions of Kozrot fissures and slaughtering of loved ones are worn on her hands.

  She crawls backwards, shaking her head with her aura dismissed. “No, I wouldn’t. That’s not me. You can’t make me.”

  “But we can. Let’s go.” Kosmos says and bandits drag her away from Thomas.

  “Thomas! No, I’m sorry. Help me, please,” Jet begs as they compel her to walk her out of Inbitwit where the volcano’s smoky summit could be seen in the distance.

  Nija : Erryn

  6

  Erryn’s golden hair grew six-inches longer in the intervening year. She wore it in a single braid on the right side of her scalp, augmenting her archery technique. Through long hours of practice, her level of skill enhanced with improved precision, range, and strength. She now could perform challenging maneuvers, including obstacles of both mobile and stationary situations. Since accepting the temple’s aid, Erryn has gained a greater understanding of Arthro’s life and the science of magic. As a result, it reduced her explosive episodes with her purple aura.

  However, as fruitful as the year had been with many blissful experiences, Erryn grew tiresome of the bishop’s constant redirection of her questions regarding Jet. Never once did she answer them.

  After swindling a book from Nija’s restricted library section, she marched to the archery courtyard to expend her frustrations, since a promise had yet to be fulfilled. Erryn hung the book on a wall before turning to the range, equipping herself with her bow, and notching an arrow from a nearby barrel. It held a restocked plethora of deadly projectiles. The courtyard contained weather enhanced obstacles, fueled by magic to assist in testing her skills against worldly challenges.

  Using the power generated from the essence of the fire god Zaravarn, it coursed through her like a memory as a great flame. Erryn focused on the point of the arrow, a smile growing on her face as the arrowhead encases in the flame.

  Hearing someone coming, she doesn’t break her concentration. With ease, the flame on the arrow persists through rainstorm, wind torrent, and blizzard conditioned obstacles. Erryn turns, seeing Drotonic walking over to her and waving.

  “Morning, Erryn. Figures I would find you here. You skipped breakfast with us again,” he says.

  “Not hungry,” she declares as he sighs.

  “You’ve got to eat, Erryn. You know, he actually wanted to talk to you,” Drotonic says.

  “Unless it’s about my sister, I don’t want to hear anything from him.” Turning away from him, she notches another arrow.

  “Don’t you think you’re being a little brash?”

  “No. No, I don’t. I think it’s pretty fair, actually. And unless you, him, Irba, or someone else can start giving me answers—I don’t see a reason to be here. Heck, I haven’t had an outburst of that god forsaken power for months now. If I must, I will go looking for her myself,” She stomps her foot as she releases the arrow and it strays off course.

  “Wait. Calm down. I’m sure what he wanted to talk to you about is probably something about her, maybe,” Drotonic shakes his head. He glances down the range to see the book hanging on one of the target walls and sharply inhales.

  “What’s the matter with you?” Erryn asks.

  “Where did you get that book?”

  “Oh, that? From the library,” She shrugs as he covers his mouth.

  “It’s never supposed to leave the restricted section for a reason,” he says.

  “Oh yeah? Well then, I suggest someone start talking before I start shooting. I know someone knows something. Where’s my sister?” She rips an arrow out of the barrel, clenching her right hand around it. Fire envelopes her fist with a purple aura outlining the flames.

  “Erryn, think about this,” Drotonic pleads. Before he could continue further, the bishop enters the courtyard alongside his clergymen. Erryn sees a look of dismay on his face as the purple begins outlining the arrow. He puts his hand up, uttering words from the book of the gods, which calms her aura and sends it back inside her.

  “A little early to be getting so worked up like this, isn’t?” The bishop smiles as Erryn crosses her arms.

  “Morning bishop,” she says flatly.

  “Bishop, sir,” Drotonic bows, but as the bishop holds out his hand, he shakes his head.

  “How’s our summoner-to-be?” the bishop asks.

  “Annoyed,” she says.

  “I know. I promise you will know soon enough. Now, are you ready for your big day to begin taking the first steps to become a summoner?” the bishop smiles.

  “No. I refuse to go through one more lesson, study, or training session without some knowledge of Jet. You said you would help me with the bonus of learning my abilities, but you’ve given me nothing. And if you can’t or won’t tell me, I’ve had enough training to set out and go find out myself.” Erryn plants her feet, notching an ignited arrow aiming towards the book.

  “The power of the gods could protect you both,” the bishop says.

  “If they have so much power and cared so much, then why didn’t they protect us? Why didn’t they save us? There was a whole decade where they could have, but no. We remained in that captivity, prized with experiments inside Vladimir’s castle!” Erryn argues, nearly yelling as her emotions spike over the subject.

  Drotonic sighs as he looks to the bishop who shakes his ‘no.’

  “Erryn, you won’t be able to find her,” Drotonic says, his tone laden with sadness. She lessens her tension on the bow’s string, curious about Drotonic’s change in mood.

  “Drotonic, what is it? Tell me,” Erryn searches within his eyes.

  “Drotonic don’t,” the bishop warns.

  “She’s going to destroy a sacred text if I don’t.” Drotonic points to the book’s placement as the bishop’s eyes grow wide. “Plus, if I’m going to become the sage, I can’t stand by and let her go walking into the front doors of death,” he says.

  “Drotonic?” she asks again.

  “Over the year you’ve been with us, we’ve learned that your sister Jet… Well, she was recaptured across the sea under Vladimir’s orders,” he says.

  “No. That can’t be true. I don’t believe you.” Tears form in her eyes.

  “I’m afraid it is.” Drotonic places a hand on Erryn’s arm.

  Erryn’s denial turns to anger as she thinks on the time wasted, shaking his arm off. “You should have told me. You had no right to keep it from me.” Her eyes blaze, igniting the head of the arrow in flames once again. The purple aura flared back to life, outlining the arrow and all of her body.

  Erryn notches the arrow, taking aim at the book. “I could’ve helped save her!”

  “Erryn, no!” Drotonic waves frantically as the bishop tries to suppress her purple aura, but her emotions feed more into its power.

  “Erryn.” The bishop speaks as it holds her at a pause. “What good would’ve you been if you were there? You hadn’t even gained the proper understanding of magic at which time this happened.” She searches her mind for a witty response, but to no avail, swells of sadness begin to overwhelm her anger. Relaxing the tension, her power calms as she turns to him. Tears drip onto her cheeks.

  “I could’ve tried,” she trembles.

  “And you would’ve been captured alongside her.” The bishop forces her to foresee the reality.

  The gravity of the situation sinks in. As Erryn’s anger finally sapped, a deep well of despair drowns her. She sinks to her knees, dropping her bow and arrow as she falls to the ground with her numb fingers. Grabbing with one hand onto the tail end of Drotonic’s robe, her shoulders shake as she cries. Her face soon flooded with tears. He bends down to her level, hugging her and stroking her head. She hugs him tightly, falling into his chest.

  “Is she alive?” She raises her face from his
chest, drying her face with her arm.

  “I don’t know. Some guy with the bandits and infected goblins took her from a small town called Inbitwit. After that, no one knows. But I suppose we would’ve heard about her death by now if that was so,” Drotonic says while the bishop signals a clergyman to retrieve the book in the range.

  “Erryn, listen to me. I understand how you wish to go find your sister, but you’re fated to become a summoner. It’s inevitable and your destiny will follow, no matter where you go,” the bishop says.

  “I hear you. Thanks to you with the training you have given me, I’m almost certain I can save her. At this moment, it’s more important than ever that I go out there and find her. Rescue her if I can,” Erryn stands.

  “Fine. If you insist on leaving, then do so. However, know this. Ignoring your destiny to lift the strain on the dying magic of Arthro will also be enabling Vladimir. He’ll continue his inhumane acts—not just on your sister, but on everyone who lives. You may want to reconsider before moving onward.” The bishop’s manner is harsher than his words.

  A temple soldier barges in the courtyard.

  He whispers to one of the clergymen and departs.

  The clergyman says, “Lord Bishop, our guest speaker is on his way here.”

  “Speaking guest?” Erryn asks as she glances at Drotonic. His eyebrows are raised, and he rolls his lips together. Before she can question what ails him, the bishop speaks out.

  “Thank you. Erryn, I know this is all heavy on your mind, and you’ve much to think about; but I would ask that you come to said decision after the end of tonight’s event. Excuse me.” He leaves the courtyard with his clergymen as one holds the book. The space quiets with just Erryn and Drotonic in the courtyard.

  He walks over, placing his arm across her shoulders.

  “You going to be okay?” Drotonic asks.

  “I think so. I just need time to think.” Erryn sniffles.

  “If you want any help, I’m here,” Drotonic offers and she nods.

  “Thank you, for telling me, Drotonic. I appreciate it,” she says, leaving the courtyard. Erryn wanders off to the village along the small river brought by the waterfall. She follows it under the bridge and sits on the grass, considering her future actions. Picking up a small skipping stone, she flicks it across the stream and watches it bounce. It skips twice before sinking. A failure like me, she thinks. I failed at saving my sister. I’ll fail at being the summoner too, I’m sure. She sighs and removes her shoes, placing her feet into the river.

  “Erryn,” a whisper carries from the waterfall. She whips her head around, looking for whomever spoke her name, but only to confirm her remoteness. Upon returning to her relaxation, it repeats, gaining her curiosity. She replaces her boots and follows the river to where it meets the crashing waterfall. She sees nothing strange, but continues her search crossing the steppingstones. Once across, after getting close enough, she discovers a hidden passage covered in vines behind the waterfall.

  Erryn struggles through them, pushing aside the scratching foliage. The path leads to an open peaceful spring in the woods outside Nija, which seems to be untouched by anyone. Still interested, she looks around, curious to who called her as a twig snaps behind a tree.

  “Who goes there?” she asks, preparing to defend herself.

  “Hi, Erryn.” Oracle steps out.

  “Oracle.” In her delight at seeing him, she nearly knocks him over, trying to give him a hug.

  “Oof, I’ve missed you too,” He smiles, looking at her as she pulls away.

  “Where’ve you been? It’s been a year since I’ve seen you last,” she scolds him.

  “I’m sorry, I’ve been very busy, but you seem to be doing well,” he says.

  “I’m alright,” she shrugs.

  “Just alright?” he asks, and she sighs, sitting on a nearby rock.

  “Do you remember telling me about the rumor that my sister is alive?” she reminds him.

  “Yes, why? Did you find out anything?” he asks.

  “Yeah, today, in fact. I learned that she was recaptured sometime during the past year by someone working under Vladimir.” Her eyes swell with tears although she tries to hold them back.

  “I’m so sorry, Erryn.” He rubs her back, sitting on a stump.

  “They’re saying that the information of where she was seen last is somewhere called Inbitwit. I don’t even know if she’s alive,” she says.

  “Inbitwit? Why, that’s across the great waters. Well, you did used to boast about her resilience. I can only imagine and hope she is,” he says.

  “But this place wants me to become some summoner. They claim I’m destined to become one. Something about me descending from a Redwood bloodline and it’s an inevitable fate. It’ll happen one way or another,” she explains, rubbing her forehead to ease her tension.

  “A summoner, really? I thought they all died out,” he says.

  “Apparently such is not the case, but with knowing about Jet, I don’t think I can focus on becoming what they’re asking of me.” Erryn elaborates on what she has learned over the past year, explaining how the episodic explosions have been minimal.

  “Wow, that’s amazing! I guess you’ve been busy as well,” he says.

  “Yeah, I just don’t know what to do. They claim it could help stop Vladimir from hurting everyone, including my sister. I just don’t know. Wouldn’t the training that I’ve undergone already be enough to save her?” she asks.

  “Hm,” he pauses in thought, “Perhaps, but what if you could stop Vladimir and save your sister at the same time? It could save everyone from ever experiencing the past you and your sister share.”

  Erryn sits listening to his words for a few moments, imagining the freedom that would befall everyone, including her and her sister.

  “I think I know what I must do. Thank you, Oracle,” Erryn stands.

  “You going to be okay?” he asks.

  “I think so, but I should get back. My friend is probably getting worried about me,” She says, checking the sun’s movement. “It’s getting late.”

  “Oh?” he says.

  “Yes, I have a friend. He’s helped me out a lot this past year.” Erryn smiles.

  “I see. Well, be strong. I know you can but just be careful. I believe the challenges ahead will only continue to get harder for you. Till next time,” he says.

  “I understand. See ya,” Erryn gives him a hug and returns through the waterfall passage. Sneaking in without anyone in sight, she goes back across the steppingstones and passes the fisherman’s house to the main street.

  Once on the street before the bridge that leads to the temple, Erryn notices the village is more busy than usual. She goes to investigate and sees that they are almost finished building a stage for tonight’s guest speaker.

  Erryn rushes for the temple, hoping to find Drotonic before the event starts. She enters the temple as Drotonic comes up to her to give her a hug, “How are you doing?”

  “I’m okay. This is some event, eh?” She looks around at those making final preparations.

  “Yeah, look; there’s something you should know about tonight,” Drotonic says as the bishop walks over.

  “Ah, Erryn. How have been? We haven’t seen you all afternoon,” the bishop asks.

  “I’m alright, but there is a matter I would like to take care of first—involving you,” Erryn turns to him.

  “Oh, have you come to a decision, then?” the bishop inquires.

  “Yes. After much thought, I’ve decided to accept myself as your summoner,” she says.

  “This is delightful to hear,” The bishop’s face glows with pleasure.

  “I have a condition, though. I want Drotonic to be the one, guiding me through this. I refuse to entrust anyone else with my life,” she says.

  “Alright, consider it done. Thank you Erryn,” the bishop says.

  “Remember, I chose to do this. But understand that, if anything about my sister is to come up, it
’ll take precedence,” she warns.

  “Understood,” he nods.

  “Now, Drotonic, you said there’s something I needed to know about the speaker?” she asks. One of the temple guards announces the arrival of the guest. The breeze through the doors hits her skin, creating goosebumps as an unshakeable eerie feeling crawls down her spine.

  Nija : Vladimir &Kosmos

  7

  Outside Nija, the majestic beauty of the countryside is blanketed by the sun’s rays like a warm hug before the cold night falls. However, a large group tramples on the wood’s dreamy ambiance, marching within sights of the village’s gates. Their mere presence radiates of malevolence, frightening the woodland animals away. A regal gothic carriage is surrounded by a company of Black Razors and twenty soldiers’ escorts, none other than Vladimir Wyvern—King of Dragonar. He gazes out his window at a rustic orange glow taking over the skies while enjoying his luxury.

  “I do hope this doesn’t take all night. It’s wasting enough of my time as it is,” Vladimir says aloud, sitting back.

  “Oh no. Your precious time won’t be wasted,” Kosmos rifts in, spooking Vladimir from his relaxation.

  “Good grief. Don’t you know how to enter a door or approach the carriage like a normal person?” Vladimir complains.

  “Are you asking a god to act mortally? You’re humorous. If I were to be more mortal as you suggest, things wouldn’t have been so successful to date,” Kosmos says.

  Vladimir rolls his eyes and glares at him, “Have you checked in lately with our operations at the volcano?”

  Kosmos replies with frustration, “I believe whatever past scars with which you’ve afflicted them have created complications, just as we predicted.”

  A horse cantors up to the carriage and the rider knocks on the carriage door, rattling the window’s glass.

  “Sire, we’re entering Nija,” Gesthal says.

  “Good. Have the soldiers enforce everyone’s attendance at the event. I’m not speaking for just my health,” Vladimir orders.