“Hey, go on in,” Clyden said, pushing Servan from behind into the room completely. Servan stumbled a little. Lizbeth and Malve could not contain their laughter any longer. “What is so funny?” Clyden asked, with a puzzled look on his face.
“You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you,” Servan said with a smile, looking over his shoulder at Clyden.
“What?” Clyden asked again. The two women laughed again.
“L-L-Let me see the bone dust,” Lizbeth said, still laughing, standing up, and walking towards Servan. He laid the sack of bone dust down on the ground. Lizbeth put her hand inside of the sack pulling it out to check how fine the powder was. The consistency was perfect, exactly what was needed for their summoning spell, and if one did not know this was dragon bone dust, it could have been mistaken for flour in a baker’s kitchen. “Yes, this is perfect,” blowing on her hand and channeling a little magic into her breath. The spell mixed with the dust on her hand flying into the air and the dust sparkled, making crackling noises as its magical essence was activated. “Yes. Indeed, this is just right.”
Clyden noticed someone had already laid out the ritual diagram on the floor. He saw the parchment Lizbeth copied the spell from in the book laying on the chaise and walked over to pick up the diagram so he could verify everything was correctly done. It was not that Clyden did not trust their work. He knew it was already perfectly laid outright; it was just when dealing with magic one always checked and rechecked before starting, but when in the Fade working with magic one checked, rechecked, and then rechecked some more. The last time they attempted a ritual of this caliber. The four of them slept for 300 years, and Varoosh went missing. So, after Clyden was satisfied with the thoroughness of the ritual diagram, he handed the parchment to Servan. Servan was just as meticulous walking along the outside of the circles three times, alternating looking at the diagram and the floor.
“Alright, it is done right. The salts are to make up all the circles. The dragon bone dust will be the lines and the runes,” Servan announced.
“Malve,” Clyden said, pointing at her. “We will do the salts. You and Lizbeth can handle the runes and lines,” picking up one of the sacks of salts Lizbeth brought earlier. Servan and Lizbeth shook their heads in agreement. They all set out to do their tasks, uttering a fixture spell over the bone dust and salts, making them as permanent as the stone on the floor in case the wind picked up from the activation of the spell. Magic was strict and unforgiving when it came to the rules of the spell. Especially when you worked magic with other users in a ritual, a gust of wind could ruin the whole spell or, worse, lead to fatal consequences. It is why they first started to work magic in the Fade Realm to limit the uncalculated risks in the real world. Clyden had a spell ruined by a bird landing in a spell diagram once, destroying all his efforts. He spent over a month just laying out the diagram for that particular spell to be ruined by a stupid random bird. Afterwards, for a while, Clyden ate poultry or wild birds regularly. In the Fade, there are no animals, sudden droplets of rain, or any other numerous amounts of distractions or unintended variables that can ruin one’s spells or rituals.
“Be sure you do it right,” Lizbeth warned them. The warning was more for her than them. She knew if she felt anxious and excited about seeing Varoosh again, they all had to feel the same. “We all need to be careful,” each of her friends shook their heads in silent consent to her warning. Lizbeth did not want to make a slight mistake because of impatience.
Carefully, they covered the ritual diagram with the salts and grounded bone dust. Clyden and Malve opened the final bag of salt and were working on the south circle; meanwhile, Lizbeth was finishing up the runes. Servan was already done with the lines and was standing by, watching the others complete their tasks. Each one of them was clapping their regents’ residual dust from off their hands as they finished. Lizbeth walked over to the column stairs Malve created earlier. She climbed them, and at the top, looked down on the entirety of their project. “It is done. Malve, if you will, please?” Malve burst into flames, then a door appeared, and she stepped through, entering the Fade physically, closing the door, and causing it to vanished. Lizbeth was descending the stairs.
“Let us begin then,” Malve said, you could hear the tempered excitement in her voice.
“The summoning is quite straightforward. Bane is the key and is the only focal needed. I think it is why Varoosh sealed the compendium with it because he knew all five of our essences would have to be used to open it, and therefore all five would be used again in the summoning,” Lizbeth said, the others nodded their heads in agreement. She continued, “Bane is to go into the middle circle. The spell will not activate until we all stand in our designated circles.” Lizbeth walked over to the circle at what she designated to be the south. “Servan, this one is yours,” she then pointed to the circle to the right, “That one is yours, Malve. You have the one across from Servan, Clyden.” Clyden walked over to the circle with no line connecting it to the middle circle. The others walked to their circles while Lizbeth went over to the column Bane leaned against. Lizbeth picked up the sword looking at the unreadable runes one more time on the scabbard and drew the sword. Lizbeth laid Bane in the middle of the circle, while making sure the point of the sword would face Clyden.
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“When I start the incantation, first Malve will step in. Servan, I will point at you, and then you will follow into yours. I will go next. Clyden, you will be last when I signal you,” Lizbeth finished, waiting to see if any of her friends had any questions. When no one asked, she continued. “When it is done, we all will finish by saying his name together, and Malve will get her 150 years.” The joke made everyone smile, though Malve smiled and blushed.
“Let’s get to it then,” Clyden said.
“Yes, let’s,” Servan agreed.
“Please work,” Malve said, standing next to her circle. The others walked to their assigned circles, standing just behind them.
“It is going to work,” Clyden said. “Lizbeth, if you will please.”
They all looked at each other, then each nodded, signaling Lizbeth they were ready. Lizbeth closed her eyes, imagining the flow of time and then a book where the pages began to turn, but the book never ran out of pages. This was Lizbeth’s method of tapping into the essence of her magic. The green stone around her neck lit up vibrantly, and an aura of green light surrounded her body. She opened her eyes and looked at her friends; each of them was surrounded by pulsating auras of light. Servan’s aura was yellow, Malve’s was white, and Clyden’s was orange.
“From what was taken should be given back,” Lizbeth said, pointing at Malve, signaling to her it was her turn. Malve stepped into her circle, she felt a surge of power enter the soles of her feet, traveling up her body and leaving goosebumps on her skin. The circle she stepped into turned bright white. “Distant matters not, all time is brief, but a moment to walk one step,” Lizbeth motioned for Servan to step into his circle, and he crossed over into his, turning it yellow. “Bonded, we four call forth what was misplaced,” she entered her circle, turning it green, matching her aura. “Lost and returned it shall be, the distant matters not, now take one step,” she pointed at Clyden for him to step into his circle. Lizbeth raised her hand, signaling the others. They all said Varoosh’s name together.
Columns of light matching the color of each circle shot up surrounding the magi. Bane in the middle circle raised into the air held by an unknown force. Clyden looked at the sword. Bane’s point faced the floor now. The stone on the hilt was an angry red, the same color as Varoosh’s aura. Varoosh’s sword began to spin, slowly at first, then it became unnaturally fast. The lines connected to his friend’s circle began to light up and then traveled from their circles to the inner one. The dragon dust and salts started to sparkle in colors of yellow, white, and green as each burning like lines of black gun powder. Upon reaching the circle containing Bane, the inner circle lit up in equal amounts of yellow, white, green, and orange. The different colors of light chased each other before merging, and for a second, the lights vanished before a column of red light shot from the center now. In the red column, bolts of red lightning arc and crackle.
Bane stopped spinning in an instant and was violently thrust downwards to the floor, piercing it, easily sinking halfway into stone flooring before it stopped. Lizbeth’s Realm, the library, shook violently, books fell from their shelves, and Lizbeth lost her footing falling over, hitting the column of green light surrounding her. Odd, she thought to herself as she touched the light matching the color of her aura. A wall of light, this shouldn’t be, Lizbeth frantically thought, placing both her hands on the green light feeling around it. Lizbeth was trapped inside her own lighted column, matching the color of her aura. She looked at her friends and saw each of them exploring their own barriers with their hands. They were also trapped, but what scared her the most was Lizbeth could not feel her magic. Her magic was stripped from her as if some invisible crevice appeared in her body, separating her from her magic. Lizbeth looked at Clyden and was about to speak. A door manifested ten yards behind Clyden. No, it can’t be! She knew this door.
“Look!” Lizbeth said, raising her voice to be heard over the crackling hum of the red lightning firing off randomly in the center circle. She pointed to the area the new door appeared in; her heart racing faster than any horse bred for speed. She could not find the words to warn them.
Servan was touching the light of his walls when he heard Lizbeth shouting something about a door. Looking at Lizbeth, Servan saw she was pointing behind Clyden. Servan saw the door she was talking about. “Is it Varoosh? Is he home?” Servan asked, eagerly optimistic.
