Summoner: Origins The Prequel

by Taran Matharu

  It was an almost automatic response, for he had learned from his time with the innkeeper that deference could save him from a beating, or worse. It had the desired effect, for Obadiah paused mid stride.

  ‘Well . . . I guess that is a fair excuse,’ he begrudged, dropping his hand to his side, before walking around Arcturus, examining him.

  Arcturus lowered his head and watched Obadiah through half-closed lashes, ready for any sudden moves. Instead, the noble lifted Arcturus’s chin with a knuckle and nodded approvingly.

  ‘Well, I’m pleased that you know to respect your elders. And betters for that matter,’ Obadiah said, laying a hand on his shoulder and propelling him away from the doorway.

  ‘Your morning ablutions shall have to wait. The king has asked me to find out what level summoner you are. Come with me.’

  Arcturus bit back a groan and followed Obadiah back up the stairs. Sacharissa pattered behind them, whining as she sensed Arcturus’s agitation. After a moment, Obadiah spun on his heel and kicked out at Sacharissa, but she skipped out of the way with a growl.

  ‘If you can’t control your demon’s infernal noise, I will shut her up for good,’ Obadiah snarled.

  ‘Sacharissa, stay,’ Arcturus said hastily, pointing at the ground. She cocked her head at him, as if to ask: are you sure?

  ‘Be a good do—’ he caught himself, ‘. . . demon and wait here for me. I’m sure it won’t take long.’

  She stared at him pitifully, then settled down and laid her head on her front paws.

  ‘Good girl,’ Arcturus said. Obadiah grunted, then continued on down the corridor.

  They walked for a few minutes in silence, before curiosity overcame Arcturus’s fear.

  ‘What do you mean by “level”?’

  ‘Different species of demons have different levels of demonic energy. For example, a Canid is a level seven demon. That means, to have been able to summon her, you are at least a level seven summoner,’ Obadiah replied, without turning around.

  Arcturus realised they were heading towards the southwest tower. As they turned into what Arcturus expected to be a stairwell leading to the top of the tower, they entered a large circular chamber with a ceiling that stretched hundreds of feet above them to the roof of the tower.

  In the centre of the room was a strange column, made up of different segments of multicoloured crystals. It was so tall it reached the very top of the room, and Arcturus had to crane his neck to see the tip of it.

  ‘Put your hand against the fulfilmeter,’ Obadiah ordered, then pushed Arcturus to his knees before he could respond. He seized Arcturus’s hand and pressed it against the cool gemstones.

  Immediately, Arcturus felt something sucked out of him, flowing through his hand. It felt cool as ice and to his surprise, he could see a cobalt blue glow around the edges of his palm.

  ‘What you are feeling now is your mana being sucked into the fulfilmeter.’

  ‘Mana?’ Arcturus stuttered. He could feel it roiling in his blood, cold under his skin.

  ‘Yes, mana is the power you use when performing a spell. You will learn more about that soon, perhaps today if you keep your ears open.’

  The last of the mana drained out of him, then the flow was reversed. But this was very different to before. It was hot and violent, a sharp contrast to what he had experienced just a moment before.

  ‘Demonic energy, what all demons are made from. The more you can absorb, the higher your fulfilment level,’ Obadiah murmured, tightening his grip on Arcturus’s wrist.

  The segment of gemstone Arcturus was touching lit up with a hum. The others above lit up soon after, each one emitting a dull thrum as they did so. Seven times the room flashed with new light, then the humming began to slow. It was just as well, for Arcturus felt full to the brim with the caustic energy. It felt like he was boiling from the inside out. Just as he thought it was over, the eighth segment flickered into life.

  ‘A level eight summoner,’ Obadiah said, with a hint of surprise in his voice. ‘That is . . . above average . . . especially for a summoner as young and as new to his demon as you. The usual for an untrained noble who has just arrived at the academy is seven, which is what I assumed you would be. I find this very interesting. I’m sure the king will share that sentiment.’

  ‘What does it mean?’ Arcturus said, massaging his wrist as Obadiah released him. He felt a flash of dread. Would it have been better if he were a weaker summoner?

  ‘It means that you are unusual only in that you are a commoner, neither too high nor too low in level. You fall within the normal range of what we can expect from a novice. It also means that you could summon a level one demon, such as a Mite, on top of your level seven Canid. Of course, as you train in the various arts of summoning, your fulfilment level will improve over time, and you will be capable of summoning more powerful demons.’

  Arcturus relaxed. Normal was good. He was unusual enough, without being something the king might see as a threat. As Obadiah began to lead him out of the room, Arcturus couldn’t resist one more question.

  ‘A Mite?’

  Obadiah gave an exasperated sigh, then turned back to him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a roll of leather. As he unravelled it, Arcturus realised it was identical to the leather mat he had found in Charles’s saddlebags, a brown square with a black pentacle embossed on both sides. Obadiah dropped it to the floor and touched the leather with his fingertip.

  The pentacle flared with violet light, just as it had in the stables. This time, instead of an orb expanding above, ethereal strands of white light blossomed from the glowing symbol, merging together like threads on a tapestry. It was not long until an insect-like form materialised and the glowing white faded to reveal the true colours beneath.

  The demon looked like a giant beetle, so large it would barely fit on a man’s hand. Its carapace was a dark red colour, with a sting not unlike a bee’s on its behind and a pair of sharp mandibles that clashed as it stared at Arcturus through two black eyes. With a flutter of insectile wings, it buzzed into the air, before settling on Obadiah’s shoulder.

  ‘Beautiful isn’t he,’ Obadiah said, stroking the Mite’s shell. ‘Rubeus is one of my weaker demons, but perhaps the most useful. He’s my eyes and ears at Vocans – step one toe out of line and he’ll come straight back to me. Unless I’ve already seen it of course.’

  He reached into his pocket once again and pulled out a shard of crystal. It was flat, like a broken piece of glass, yet Arcturus could see the room reflected on the polished surface. Obadiah tapped it on the Mite’s shell and held it out for Arcturus to see. For a moment Arcturus thought he was looking at a piece of mirror, but as Rubeus buzzed into the air, he realised that the image on the crystal was exactly what the beetle demon was seeing.

  ‘The scrying stone and summoning leather are the two most important items in a summoner’s tool chest,’ Obadiah lectured, pocketing the crystal and rolling the leather up once again. ‘Your demon usually resides within your body and can be summoned into existence, then infused back into you using the leather. The scrying stone lets you share your demon’s senses, including sound and smell, though you need to look at the stone to be able to see what they do. Of course you will only be able to see black and white with yours. Canids and their various cousins are all colour blind.’

  Arcturus smiled, glad to confirm his suspicions. Still, it was strange that he had been able to do it, if briefly, without a stone at all. He would have to investigate that later. The fact that Sacharissa could somehow be ‘infused’ into his body filled him with both excitement and apprehension. Could that really be possible?

  ‘Right, that’s enough for one day. I’m your Provost not your teacher.’ Obadiah said, shaking his head as if surprised he had shared so much.

  ‘Thank you, Lord Forsyth,’ Arcturus said, holding
out his hand. ‘I look forward to learning more. May I ask, would it be possible for you to take me back to Sacharissa and then show me how to find the baths?’

  ‘I’m not your servant, insolent boy,’ Obadiah snapped, ignoring the hand and stamping out of the room. ‘We can collect your demon because it’s on the way, but there’s no time for a bath now, you’ll have to wait until later. It’s breakfast time. I’m going to announce your arrival to the other students.’

  7

  Obadiah led Arcturus to the dining hall, taking him into the Atrium and beneath the carved archway. Sacharissa paced protectively beside them, sniffing with excitement as they passed through the doors and the scent of food pervaded the air.

  The room was filled with low stone tables, surrounded by a dozen servants who scurried around with platters of food. Some of them were dwarves, with thick braided beards and long ponytails. Ulfr was among them, marked out by a purple bruise that must have blossomed on his forehead overnight.

  An enormous statue dominated the centre of the room: an armoured man with a powerful build and short beard. His stony gaze seemed to fix on Arcturus, following him as he walked deeper into the room. The level of detail was extraordinary, as if a giant had been turned to stone.

  Despite the size of the dining hall, only a few tables were occupied, with an assortment of boys and girls who had turned to stare at them. Arcturus could see bacon and eggs piled high, the gamy scent filling his nostrils and flooding his mouth with saliva.

  ‘Good morning, students,’ Obadiah said, striding ahead of Arcturus to stand beside them. He paused, looking at them expectantly.

  ‘Good morning, Provost Forsyth, sir,’ the students echoed back dutifully, though the tone was one of exasperation rather than respect.

  ‘I would like to introduce you to our newest student . . .’ He paused, and Arcturus realised that Charles Faversham was seated with the others, staring at him with hatred in his eyes. ‘Ah, I see that Charles has arrived at last. Has he filled you in?’

  There were several nods from the table and Obadiah smiled.

  ‘In that case, I shall give you a brief summary of the events that have lead to a commoner joining Vocans. On his way here, Charles mislaid his summoning scroll. It was stolen by young Arcturus here.’

  Charles shifted in his seat uncomfortably, before shooting Arcturus another malice laden look. Arcturus realised that the young noble must have neglected to mention that part in his version of the story. Obadiah didn’t seem to notice Charles’s embarrassment and carried on blithely.

  ‘By some quirk of nature, he was able to summon the demon Lord Faversham had captured for Charles. After proper interrogation, King Alfric decided that it would be in Hominum’s best interest to train the boy.’

  One of the nobles stood up, a tall, heavyset lad with a square jaw and a cap of blonde curls.

  ‘Father, how is this possible?’ the boy asked, giving Arcturus a disdainful look. ‘The gift is passed through the blood, it is not some randomly occurring ability.’

  ‘Do not interrupt, Zacharias,’ Obadiah said mildly, pushing him back into his seat. ‘But you have cut right to the heart of the matter. King Alfric has posed that very question to me. In fact, I have another announcement to make. I will be leaving Vocans as Provost, short though my tenure has been here. The king has requested that I lead an investigation, to find out whether Arcturus is a freak, or if there are others like him out there.’

  Arcturus looked from Obadiah to Zacharias, suddenly seeing the resemblance between them. The Provost’s son’s face had become crestfallen, before twisting into a scowl as his eyes fell on Arcturus.

  ‘Being Provost is far more important. This task is beneath you, Father,’ Zacharias muttered.

  ‘You think you know better than your king?’ Obadiah asked, giving his son a withering look. ‘Prince Harold, why do you think your father has sent me away?’

  Arcturus’s heart leaped in his chest as a dark haired boy with piercing blue eyes stood. His brow was ringed by a silver circlet, studded with rubies. The king’s own son was studying at the academy!

  ‘Lord Forsyth, the reasons are threefold. The first is that in the last dwarven rebellion, the noble families suffered several deaths, and this could happen again if the ongoing altercations with the orcs become any worse. With commoners to swell our ranks, we will be able to take fewer risks, giving the more dangerous missions to them.’

  Charles smiled at the prince’s words and whispered in Zacharias’s ear. Arcturus heard the words, ‘cannon fodder’.

  ‘Very good, Harold. The second?’

  ‘With commoners capable of summoning demons, they become a threat to us. By keeping them close, where we can keep an eye on them, we limit their ability to cause us harm.’ The prince spoke matter of factly, though he avoided Arcturus’s eyes, as if ashamed of his words. ‘This threat has grown of late, ever since my father increased taxes to cover our recent expenses.’

  ‘Excellent! Now, explain the most obvious reason to my idiot son, so he learns to keep his trap shut,’ Obadiah said, narrowing his eyes at his son. Zacharias’s face flushed red and he twisted his hands in his lap.

  ‘A commoner being able to summon means that there may be a way to give the ability to a person who cannot. Therefore, it is possible that we can make all noble children summoners, rather than just the firstborn. We already know that this is possible, given that the Lord and Lady Lovett’s second, third and fourth born children are summoners, which was highly improbable. We just don’t know why it has happened. Perhaps the commoners are the key to finding out.’

  Harold glanced down the table at a group of four students, sitting a little apart from everyone else. Three were dark-haired boys of varying ages, whilst the other was a very young girl with long black tresses and round grey eyes that gazed at Arcturus with frank curiosity. He remembered Lord Faversham had mentioned the Lovett family, accusing them of paying Arcturus to steal the summoning scroll on their behalf. If he remembered correctly, it had something to do with not having enough demons for all of their children.

  ‘I hope that this is reason enough. Now, Lord Goodwin will be taking over from me as Provost, leaving his role as your spellcraft teacher. We will bring in a new teacher to replace him.’

  There was an audible groan from the table, though whether that was because Lord Goodwin was popular or unpopular was unclear.

  ‘Arcturus, please join your fellow students. After your first lesson come and see me. There are some questions I must ask you before I leave.’ With those parting words, Obadiah spun on his heel and strode out of the room.

  Arcturus stood for a moment, cringing under the gaze of the nobles. There was a gap between the Lovetts and Zacharias, so he squeezed in and spooned some bacon onto his plate. Sacharissa installed herself beneath the table, searching the floor for food that might have fallen.

  ‘Something reeks,’ Zacharias complained, shifting away from him. ‘Is it the Canid or the pleb?’

  ‘Both,’ Charles said gleefully, pinching his nose with his fingers. ‘They smell exactly the same. Like wet dog.’

  ‘Dogbreath. That’s what we should call him. Much better than Arcticunus, or whatever it was,’ Zacharias laughed, and Charles snorted, spraying the table with egg. Another boy joined in with them, a sallow-faced noble with lank black hair tied in a ponytail.

  ‘Good one, Zach,’ the noble guffawed, slapping Zacharias on the back.

  ‘Oh, leave him alone,’ Prince Harold moaned, rolling his eyes at the bullies. ‘Last time we went hawking together, you three smelled twice as ripe, especially after the hike back. Sweating like pigs you were.’

  Arcturus smiled gratefully at the prince, realising the young royal was very unlike his father. Harold gave him an apologetic shrug and went back to his meal. The three glowered at him, but Arcturus ignored
them and began to eat, trying to stop himself from devouring it like a wild animal. It had been a while since he had last put food in his belly, and though he was used to hunger, he knew he needed to keep his strength up for the challenging days ahead.

  It was not long before the rest of the table began to talk amongst themselves. Arcturus was keenly aware of the fact that he still needed to wash, especially after the comments the others had made. He looked up from his food, wondering if there was time to go before the others had finished breakfast.

  A fair-skinned boy with scruffy black hair sat across from Arcturus. He noticed Arcturus’s gaze and leaned forward.

  ‘Edmund Raleigh,’ the boy said, holding out his hand and giving Arcturus a firm handshake. ‘We’ve all known each other since we were toddlers, so don’t worry if some of the conversation goes over your head. Let me introduce you to everyone. You’ve already met Charles, Zach and Harold. The boy on the end with the long hair is Damian, but everyone calls him Rook. It’s his surname.’

  ‘Like the chess piece, not the bird,’ Rook said, then wrinkled his nose. ‘You probably don’t know what chess is anyway.’

  Edmund pulled a face at him, then turned to two girls on his right. ‘This is Alice, and this is Josephine, from the Queensouth family. Don’t bother trying to tell the difference between them, you’ll just get confused.’

  ‘Hello!’ the girls chorused. They were twins, with long blonde hair and large expressive eyes, giving them a doll-like appearance. Edmund was right, they were almost identical. But the one Edmund had introduced as Alice had given Arcturus a bright smile before going back to her meal. Edmund wrapped his arm around her and kissed her on the cheek.

  ‘We’re sweethearts, so don’t get any ideas,’ he winked, before turning to the remaining students to his left.

  ‘This is Baybars Saladin, the fiercest swordsman you’ll ever meet,’ Raleigh continued, pointing to a dark-skinned boy beside him. The boy gave him a polite nod before returning to his meal.