Emerett was a friendly man. Perhaps too friendly. Luke didn’t know how to handle someone who smiled without pretense and wasn’t making small talk when he asked about others’ day. If the man was a noble, Luke would assume it was all a ruse to entice others into dropping their guards. It could be that’s what it was. Negotiations were a core part of summoning and deception was a core tenet of negotiation. But Emerett didn’t feel like someone who spent their life wearing a mask. Rather the opposite. He was simply…free. With his thoughts. With his words. He knew when to speak and when not to but when he did, he spoke his true feelings.
That was why Luke accepted him as a leader. The other three followed him because of his reputation but the baron didn’t know the independent summoners. He’d ignored the first member of their group that tried to contact him. Threatened to maim the second. Only when Emerett came by did he stop to listen. If he had been a schemer, Luke wouldn’t have bothered, as he was no good at scheming. It was his genuineness that got him through the door. When Emerett spoke, Luke believed in what he said. Believed in the impossible.
His honest nature wasn’t to be mistaken as weakness. The old summoner was still strong, time failing to break him physically or mentally, and he could show that strength. As the conversation turned serious, Emerett’s smile faded and his tone lost its cheer. “With the supplies secured, Lord Tome can begin building the circle. They have already been moved to the site. I would ask that you be there by tomorrow night at the latest. We don’t have time to waste.”
“I know.”
“For security reasons, you won’t be allowed to leave once you arrive and we’ll be limited in bringing supplies.”
Luke huffed. “We’ve already discussed this. I bring everything I need with me or I don’t get it. Everything has already been prepared.”
“And Jackal is ready?”
“Oh, he’s ready.” His brother, Javarius Tome, had not been happy being sidelined by the independent summoners. Society was ripe with tales of succession battles. Brothers competing in cruel competition to inherit their father’s riches. Such things had never happened in the Tome family. They didn’t have anything worth fighting over.
Jackal was ambitious enough to scheme for his future, but he had never needed to compete with Luke. He had always been bigger, stronger, and more assertive. Luke had more brains, but he didn’t have the cunning or the patience to climb the social hierarchy. If their father had needed to choose, Jackal would have won his favor without question.
After his brother became the family patriarch, Luke never questioned his brother’s words. Even when he was exiled from the capital to their poor excuse of a territory. As long as he was allowed to read his books, continue his research, and raise his daughter in peace, Luke didn’t care one way or the other what his brother did with the family. Jackal saw his brother as another lackey and that was fine.
That was why it was utterly incomprehensible to the Tome patriarch that anyone would value Luke over him. Never mind Luke had dedicated his life to summoning. Jackal was better. He was the head of the family. He should have been the one Emerett personally came to see.
Of course, he changed his tune when they revealed their plan. Becoming a public enemy was a task he was happy to leave to his brother. He was happier still when he was given the role of a hero.
Their goal was to correct the king’s views on summoners. Beasts were tamed with whips and treats. While the monarch would undoubtedly take offense to the comparison, men were much the same. The drakkon would be the whip. The danger would give the summoners authority and legitimacy. Its presence would make the people in charge listen when they spoke. Hopefully, without casualties. Senseless slaughter served no one.
Jackal would be the treat. He would step forward to council the king against a threat only summoners could truly understand. He would also heroically and tragically sell out his brother who had fallen under the sway of radical summoners. Something the Guiness Company would confirm when they were investigated for aiding rebels. The Tome family, nobles who had contributed to the founding of the kingdom and remained faithful vassals to the crown, would become the voice of reason, denouncing the rebel elements of the summoning community.
If the king wasn’t a fool, he would see Jackal as the perfect figurehead to unite the summoners and prevent future crisis. Then Jackal could use the trust built battling “evil” summoners to advise the king in ways summoners could be useful to the kingdom, making them relevant. Maybe even important.
Meanwhile, Luke and his cabal would take their brainwashed drakkon and build their secret city of summoners. In three decades, Jackal would have established himself as a member of the court and Luke’s cabal would have a small army of powerful elementals. Two avenues that would secure the future of summoning.
In a perfect world, both plans would succeed, doubling the strength of their position. In reality, they would be lucky if one path led to some success. Luke would prefer it if the successful part was the operation he was part of but he would accept anything that saved the art.
Except execution. He would give a lot of things for summoning, shameful things, but not his life.
“Ambrose, you will go with him and will assist Lord Tome with whatever he requires.”
“It would be my honor,” the young man said with toothy grin.
Luke huffed. The thought of an assistant irked him, but he couldn’t deny the man’s skill. Also, Ambrose could cook. To a man who forgot to eat when absorbed in his work, having a good chef about was a tremendous help.
“Lazarus. Your final request has been granted.”
A rare smile graced the prideful caster’s face, alleviating his permanent scowl. One of the man’s conditions for contracting the drakkon had been a ‘wish’ to which only Emerett was privy. A dying wish.
Besides the many things that could go wrong in the summoning itself, Lazarus was essentially forfeiting his life. He was confident in his ability to negotiate terms with prideful elementals but that only meant he wouldn’t be maimed and would retain a modicum of freedom.
Being the contractor of the drakkon would also make him the prime target of the crown’s retaliation. If things went according to plan, they would never reach him, but the threat would linger over his head for the rest of his life.
“Then I will be at the site in a week.”
“Whoa, a week?” Ambrose looked aghast. “Do you know how large a circle to contain a drakkon is going to be? Trying to do all of that in a week…my hands will fall off first.”
Luke rubbed the side of his head. “I’ve already told you, we do not need the circle to accommodate the whole of the creature.”
“It’s still huge!”
“I will provide enough stimulants to keep you awake.”
The artist groaned and dropped his head to the table. Emerett patted him on the shoulder. “Everything is for the good of summoning.”
“I’m going to die.”
The old summoner chuckled. “That brings us to the most crucial aspect of our plan.” His eyes moved to Junior. “Are you ready, young patriarch?”
“Sure, but it’s not like I’m doing anything.” Junior slumped in his chair. “The pets are doing all the work. Fen.”
The succubus beside him smiled charmingly. “My fellow thralls will be arriving at the summoning site over the week. We will begin our work the moment the contract is secured.”
Emerett hummed. “I believe a succubus can influence even a drakkon given enough time and resources, but I have a harder time imagining the creature won’t notice.”
Fen nodded. “Mana intrusion is impossible to disguise but creatures will adapt to anything. We will make the drakkon ask us to use our magic on it. Then, when it is accustomed to our magic, we will begin our work.”
“If anyone can do it, then it is you. All the pieces have been assembled. We’re all ready. There is only one thing that can stop us now and that is…ourselves. We must keep faith in our vision, in our plan, and most importantly in one another. Each man must play his role. The kingdom preys on us because we are divided. No longer. Summoners will no longer be a group of eccentrics. We will become an institution. Perhaps, in time, we will become a city. Perhaps, a kingdom, with our own king attended by a court of his summoned elementals. It all starts here.”
Emerett was a friendly man. Perhaps too friendly. Luke didn’t know how to handle someone who smiled without pretense and wasn’t making small talk when he asked about others’ day. If the man was a noble, Luke would assume it was all a ruse to entice others into dropping their guards. It could be that’s what it was. Negotiations were a core part of summoning and deception was a core tenet of negotiation. But Emerett didn’t feel like someone who spent their life wearing a mask. Rather the opposite. He was simply…free. With his thoughts. With his words. He knew when to speak and when not to but when he did, he spoke his true feelings.
That was why Luke accepted him as a leader. The other three followed him because of his reputation but the baron didn’t know the independent summoners. He’d ignored the first member of their group that tried to contact him. Threatened to maim the second. Only when Emerett came by did he stop to listen. If he had been a schemer, Luke wouldn’t have bothered, as he was no good at scheming. It was his genuineness that got him through the door. When Emerett spoke, Luke believed in what he said. Believed in the impossible.
His honest nature wasn’t to be mistaken as weakness. The old summoner was still strong, time failing to break him physically or mentally, and he could show that strength. As the conversation turned serious, Emerett’s smile faded and his tone lost its cheer. “With the supplies secured, Lord Tome can begin building the circle. They have already been moved to the site. I would ask that you be there by tomorrow night at the latest. We don’t have time to waste.”
“I know.”
“For security reasons, you won’t be allowed to leave once you arrive and we’ll be limited in bringing supplies.”
Luke huffed. “We’ve already discussed this. I bring everything I need with me or I don’t get it. Everything has already been prepared.”
“And Jackal is ready?”
“Oh, he’s ready.” His brother, Javarius Tome, had not been happy being sidelined by the independent summoners. Society was ripe with tales of succession battles. Brothers competing in cruel competition to inherit their father’s riches. Such things had never happened in the Tome family. They didn’t have anything worth fighting over.
Jackal was ambitious enough to scheme for his future, but he had never needed to compete with Luke. He had always been bigger, stronger, and more assertive. Luke had more brains, but he didn’t have the cunning or the patience to climb the social hierarchy. If their father had needed to choose, Jackal would have won his favor without question.
After his brother became the family patriarch, Luke never questioned his brother’s words. Even when he was exiled from the capital to their poor excuse of a territory. As long as he was allowed to read his books, continue his research, and raise his daughter in peace, Luke didn’t care one way or the other what his brother did with the family. Jackal saw his brother as another lackey and that was fine.
That was why it was utterly incomprehensible to the Tome patriarch that anyone would value Luke over him. Never mind Luke had dedicated his life to summoning. Jackal was better. He was the head of the family. He should have been the one Emerett personally came to see.
Of course, he changed his tune when they revealed their plan. Becoming a public enemy was a task he was happy to leave to his brother. He was happier still when he was given the role of a hero.
Their goal was to correct the king’s views on summoners. Beasts were tamed with whips and treats. While the monarch would undoubtedly take offense to the comparison, men were much the same. The drakkon would be the whip. The danger would give the summoners authority and legitimacy. Its presence would make the people in charge listen when they spoke. Hopefully, without casualties. Senseless slaughter served no one.
Jackal would be the treat. He would step forward to council the king against a threat only summoners could truly understand. He would also heroically and tragically sell out his brother who had fallen under the sway of radical summoners. Something the Guiness Company would confirm when they were investigated for aiding rebels. The Tome family, nobles who had contributed to the founding of the kingdom and remained faithful vassals to the crown, would become the voice of reason, denouncing the rebel elements of the summoning community.
If the king wasn’t a fool, he would see Jackal as the perfect figurehead to unite the summoners and prevent future crisis. Then Jackal could use the trust built battling “evil” summoners to advise the king in ways summoners could be useful to the kingdom, making them relevant. Maybe even important.
Meanwhile, Luke and his cabal would take their brainwashed drakkon and build their secret city of summoners. In three decades, Jackal would have established himself as a member of the court and Luke’s cabal would have a small army of powerful elementals. Two avenues that would secure the future of summoning.
In a perfect world, both plans would succeed, doubling the strength of their position. In reality, they would be lucky if one path led to some success. Luke would prefer it if the successful part was the operation he was part of but he would accept anything that saved the art.
Except execution. He would give a lot of things for summoning, shameful things, but not his life.
“Ambrose, you will go with him and will assist Lord Tome with whatever he requires.”
“It would be my honor,” the young man said with toothy grin.
Luke huffed. The thought of an assistant irked him, but he couldn’t deny the man’s skill. Also, Ambrose could cook. To a man who forgot to eat when absorbed in his work, having a good chef about was a tremendous help.
“Lazarus. Your final request has been granted.”
A rare smile graced the prideful caster’s face, alleviating his permanent scowl. One of the man’s conditions for contracting the drakkon had been a ‘wish’ to which only Emerett was privy. A dying wish.
Besides the many things that could go wrong in the summoning itself, Lazarus was essentially forfeiting his life. He was confident in his ability to negotiate terms with prideful elementals but that only meant he wouldn’t be maimed and would retain a modicum of freedom.
Being the contractor of the drakkon would also make him the prime target of the crown’s retaliation. If things went according to plan, they would never reach him, but the threat would linger over his head for the rest of his life.
“Then I will be at the site in a week.”
“Whoa, a week?” Ambrose looked aghast. “Do you know how large a circle to contain a drakkon is going to be? Trying to do all of that in a week…my hands will fall off first.”
Luke rubbed the side of his head. “I’ve already told you, we do not need the circle to accommodate the whole of the creature.”
“It’s still huge!”
“I will provide enough stimulants to keep you awake.”
The artist groaned and dropped his head to the table. Emerett patted him on the shoulder. “Everything is for the good of summoning.”
“I’m going to die.”
The old summoner chuckled. “That brings us to the most crucial aspect of our plan.” His eyes moved to Junior. “Are you ready, young patriarch?”
“Sure, but it’s not like I’m doing anything.” Junior slumped in his chair. “The pets are doing all the work. Fen.”
The succubus beside him smiled charmingly. “My fellow thralls will be arriving at the summoning site over the week. We will begin our work the moment the contract is secured.”
Emerett hummed. “I believe a succubus can influence even a drakkon given enough time and resources, but I have a harder time imagining the creature won’t notice.”
Fen nodded. “Mana intrusion is impossible to disguise but creatures will adapt to anything. We will make the drakkon ask us to use our magic on it. Then, when it is accustomed to our magic, we will begin our work.”
“If anyone can do it, then it is you. All the pieces have been assembled. We’re all ready. There is only one thing that can stop us now and that is…ourselves. We must keep faith in our vision, in our plan, and most importantly in one another. Each man must play his role. The kingdom preys on us because we are divided. No longer. Summoners will no longer be a group of eccentrics. We will become an institution. Perhaps, in time, we will become a city. Perhaps, a kingdom, with our own king attended by a court of his summoned elementals. It all starts here.”
