A Summoner's Calling

by Jacquelyn Evans

  21

  Drotonic goes over their supplies at the lobby after spending the two hours searching the temple’s scrolls. The bishop, two clergymen, and a couple of guards are nearly prepared to depart for the old temple ruins, when Drotonic notices Erryn’s absence. He waits, expecting her to arrive at any moment.

  “Do we have everything?” asks the bishop.

  “Yes, your Eminence. We’ve acquired the gear for the mountain as requested, and we are prepared to open the gate,” one of the clergymen says.

  “Splendid. It seems like we have everything. Shall we be off? Drotonic?” the bishop inquires.

  “I’ll be back. There’s no point in reopening the gate if there’s no summoner,” Drotonic ascends the stairs. As he reaches the top step of Erryn’s floor and walks towards her room, a nurse bumps into him.

  “Oh, dear me. Excuse me, sir,” she bows.

  “It’s fine, really. Have you seen the Lady Summoner?” he asks.

  “Oh, yes. Last I saw… her face was quite flushed. She seemed to be tired and went to lie down, but that was a couple of hours ago,” explains the nurse.

  “Excellent, thank you,” he bows, holding her hands. As Drotonic approaches Erryn’s room, the temperature seems rather odd. It increases the closer he gets. With her door in sight, Drotonic notices steam seeping through the bottom cracks of the door.

  “My gods, it’s hot down here.” He swipes his forehead with the back of his hand. Drotonic tries to grab the door handle but his palm sizzles. He immediately pulls his hand away. Why is that so hot? he wonders as the thought of Erryn being trapped motivates him into action. Drotonic pounds on the door, hoping she will hear him.

  The door opens. “Drotonic.” Erryn is saturated in sweat.

  Drotonic looks inside to see everything saturated. Wallpaper rolls off the walls and a pile of ash is where the curtains were, revealing a smoldering window frame.

  “What happened in here?” Drotonic’s jaw drops.

  “Oh, just a bit of astral jumping. I believe that’s what Zaravarn called it,” Erryn shrugs.

  “Wait, you did what?” Drotonic does a double take at her words.

  “Astral jumping. We went to the volcano, where we saw my sister and Oracle. Everybody wasn’t too happy to see him for whatever reason. But we helped her escape from that dungeon furnace of Vladimir’s,” she explains.

  “You did all of this in just two hours?” he asks, bewildered.

  “Why? Is something wrong with that? It was so nice to hug my sister again,” Erryn hugs herself as if remembering the feeling.

  “Come on. You can use the shower in my room. Everything is far too damaged in here,” Drotonic takes her hand, pulling her towards his room.

  “What’s the hurry?” she asks.

  He looks at her perplexed with raised brows, “It’s been two hours, and the bishop is waiting.”

  He shoves her inside his room as guards and the bishop bolt down the hall with urgency, paying him no mind. After they pass, Drotonic enters his room, locking the door behind him.

  “You need to hurry up and shower before they catch on,” he advises. Without question, she heads straight into the bathroom. She starts undressing but the door doesn’t shut all the way. Drotonic turns around, catching a fleeting glimpse of her hopping into the bath. His heart beats hard with awkwardness and his armpits warm along with his cheeks.

  Drotonic takes a few breaths until hearing her turn the squeaky valve slowing the water, “Hey, don’t come out yet. Make sure you pull the other chain, trust me.”

  “Okay?” Erryn pulls the chain, and as a massive burst of warm air surprises her, she shrieks.

  There is a gentle knock on his door. “Room service.”

  Perfect, he thinks.

  “Yes, miss, um, I’m sorry to bother you, but my friend has made a mess of her outfit. Do you think you could gather something she could wear to the mountain? She has an important task to attend to after she’s out of the shower.”

  The maid bows and leaves, returning in short time with an outfit in hand.

  “Erryn, I’m putting a clean change of clothes on the counter,” Drotonic says as he steps back out, watching the woman change his bedsheets. Moments seem to slow down. Erryn hobbles on one leg out of the bathroom, putting on knee-high boots. After she finishes tying them with a secured latch, she tucks her white blouse into her pants.

  “What’s the matter?” she takes the breath placing her hands on her hips. “You’ve been fretting since you came to my room.”

  Drotonic looks at the maid, worried about her listening in. He grabs Erryn’s hand to usher her out of the room.

  “Doing an astral jump is not allowed for its dangerous. It’s sacrilegious in the temple. It can only be done via a sanctioned ritualistic ceremony by certain individuals,” Drotonic explains now that there was no one around to hear.

  “Is that all? Well, I don’t care. It helped in rescuing my sister. Plus, Zaravarn was the one to suggest it anyways,” Erryn says as they reach the stairs.

  They calmly enter the lobby where a couple of clergymen and guards remain, but the bishop is nowhere in sight.

  “Where’s the bishop?” Drotonic asks, although he knew very well where he was.

  “The trail of Kosmos has effected the temple in someone’s room. It’s growing is going to effect the rest of the building,” a clergyman says.

  “Kosmos, here? But why?” Erryn asks as a thought scares her to tears.

  “Erryn, what’s wrong?” Drotonic asks.

  “It can’t be true, can it?” Erryn whispers, looking to Drotonic.

  “Look, they have it under control. It just means he was here and you’re safe. Plus, we have Froztia to meet,” Drotonic calms her holding her hands, refocusing her mind.

  “You’re right. Do we know when the bishop will be all set to go?” she asks.

  “Now that you’re with us, we all can go. Bookkeep, make sure any rooms above or below room 127 are vacant till it’s repaired.” The bishop answers walking from behind them.

  “Certainly, sir. I’ll get right on that,” the bookkeep says, turning to use his machine.

  They head down the busy main street of Pinya with the bishop and the clergy in the lead, followed by Erryn and Drotonic with the guards at the rear. People stop to reverently acknowledge them until they turn down a darkened alley. After they reach the back part of the alley, they arrive to the old temple the bishop detailed beforehand. The bishop leads, proceeding through an entrance where a path guides them to a prayer room.

  The benches are broken from crumbling stone debris, and the prayer doors have completely collapsed. The back wall, of where an alter would be placed in front, has a stone archway with carved designs and symbols.

  Drotonic and Erryn receive the winter gear from the guards, and they hand Drotonic his staff and book.

  The bishop and his clergymen begin chanting as a magical ribbon appears and breaks. Then the bishop’s palms light up and as he touches the wall. Magic swirls outward from his hands until it fills the inside of stone archway. Once filled, the bishop lets go, and a power activates as a cold, wintery wind blows at Drotonic and Erryn from the portal.

  “Alright, there you go. All I ask is that you come back to us alive, but for the safety of Pinya’s people, I’ll seal this gate once you pass. Good luck. May the Goddess of Ice bless your journey,” the bishop says, and they nod.

  Gripping each other’s hands, they walk through the portal, teleporting to the mountain pass as planned. When Drotonic steps through with Erryn by his side, white fluffy snow rests up near their knees. Erryn let’s go of his hand, cupping the snow in her hands with eyes mystified by the glimmering flakes.

  “This is what snow feels like. It’s so cold but soft, and it sparkles when rays of light hit it. I never would have imagined how amazing it really is just seeing it out of our window in Dragonar,” she says.

  That’s right. She’s probably never got to experience much as a kid
, Drotonic thinks, remembering her childhood was stuck inside Vladimir’s treacherous castle.

  She tries to step forward, only to slip forward face-first into a heaping pile of snow.

  “Are you okay?” Drotonic asks as she rolls onto her back with her hair and face covered in snow.

  “Cold. This is very cold. Can you help me up, please?” She reaches out to him, and Drotonic pulls her out as snow falls down her neck and inside the collar of her coat. She tries to brush it off, only to end up creating a frigid chill down her back as Drotonic laughs.

  “Try planting your feet in the snow as you walk. It should get easier as we go further up. The snow should be less fluffy soft and more packed for better footing,” Drotonic says as they trudge onward. They look off the edge of the mountain, seeing the landscape which makes Pinya seem so small.

  Drotonic looks up to the inclined mountain pass, spotting the wide path made by the summit’s wintery winds. “Well, she’s waiting for you. Might as well go all the way.”

  They hike up the massive incline until it rounds a corner to a plateau, where winds blow. It challenges their visibility carried by the force of a blizzard. How odd, he thinks.

  “Do we have to go through that to get to the Froztia’s realm?” she asks.

  “Yeah, it should be right up ahead. Just be careful. These are strong winds,” Drotonic says as she sighs.

  They turn the corner, snow blowing towards them as they walk side by side pushing through. The blizzard limits their vision, with only a three-foot radius of the immediate area being observable. Drotonic uses his staff as a sturdy walking stick. Erryn raises her arm just above her brow to block the snow as she looks downward.

  Then she stops after three steps. “What the hell?”

  “What’s the matter?” Drotonic asks, noticing her halt.

  “Our footprints have completely disappeared. Like as if there wasn’t even a trace of us,” She indicates back to where both their footprints were missing. She moves her foot, and they both watch as some invisible force swipes her footprint away, completely erasing it.

  “Can’t we just say it’s the magic from the portal leading to Froztia’s realm?” Drotonic begs.

  “Do you think it’s why all this is happening? The cause of the vast winds? The bitter coldness? The sweeping of our footprints?” she asks him as the winds suddenly become more intense right after her words.

  “A guy can hope, right?” Drotonic says.

  As she steps forward, her footprint starts to be erased, but then Erryn steps back into her last footprint. The blizzard-like conditions just stop. They look ahead and see Froztia’s archway in the mountainside covered in ice within a hundred feet from them. However, a little girl stands before them, her blue skin glistening from the fallen frost of her snow-covered hair. Cold air escapes her blue lips. Their darkened tone could be guessed to have been purple. The surrounding snow falls ever so slowly, chilling their senses almost instantly from the artic skies.

  “She must be so cold; look how blue she is.” Erryn begins to walk towards her.

  “Erryn, don’t. I fear that’s not just a little girl,” Drotonic warns, but she continues to the child. He grips his staff at the ready, watching every step and movement of both.

  Erryn bends down in front of the child. “Hello, what’s your name? Mine’s Erryn.” The child remains still and quiet as if tranced into a daze.

  “Erryn?” Drotonic grows weary as silence falls. Faint footsteps seem to be drawing near, but there were none in the snow to prove otherwise.

  She waves at him to hush, and she tries again. “Aren’t you cold? It’s quite freezing out here. Would you like my coat?” Erryn places her hand on the child’s shoulder to comfort her. The girl then turns her head, looking at Erryn as Drotonic’s brows rise with concern.

  “You’re going to die now. Help me,” she says with a flat face as her dead eyes look upon Erryn’s.

  “Whoa, what?” Erryn backs up from her. Then the child releases a scream, carrying the voices of a thousand tortured souls. A gale force wind picks up again from behind her, pushing Drotonic and Erryn back.

  “Erryn, get away from her,” Drotonic shouts.

  “What the hell is this?” Erryn struggles against the force while backing up to Drotonic.

  “She’s the Soul Collector. It’s the only explanation. I read in the library that soul collectors can take possession of a body, hiding in it until attacking a new prey,” Drotonic says as the screams stop.

  “Then why would she ask for help?” Erryn asks.

  “That would have to mean he’s been using a living person rather than a corpse,” Drotonic’s eyes widen because using a living person takes great power and endurance to sustain it.

  “Well, that’s going to end today. Its path has come across the wrong people,” Erryn stands firm and determined.

  “You, mortal, don’t have a chance,” a demonic voice from the child says as it throws shards of ice at them.

  Erryn and Drotonic dodge the spears of ice opposite from one another.

  “Hey! You better play nicer if you expect to be friends,” Erryn shakes a finger at it.

  “Friends?” the child asks in her normal voice, tilting her head as Erryn nods with a smile.

  “Erryn, this is no time for playing around,” Drotonic scolds.

  Erryn inhales sharply. “Playing around? What a perfect idea. Hey soul collector kid, you want to play some catch? You must know how to play being a child and all,” Erryn antagonizes it as Drotonic remains on edge, attempting to be ready for anything this creature could do.

  “Catch?” the child says, almost lighting with an excitable emotion.

  “Yep, you ready? You don’t want to drop it once I throw it,” she says as Drotonic notices a ball of flames behind her back in her hand. Her eyes are ablaze.

  “Yay, I’m ready. I won’t drop it,” the child stands, waiting eagerly. Erryn nods, throwing a condensed fireball at the child which she catches.

  “Ow, that hurt. Oh, I will get you for that.” The collector angers.

  Drotonic notices the girl continuing to hold onto the ball until a black mist forces her hands to drop it. He reaches for his book quick, and a spell is written within, throwing the same ball at her.

  Erryn whips her attention to him. “Drotonic, did you just do that?”

  “It’s a technique I can do if I’m concentrating and catch a spell in time. I can replicate it,” he explains.

  “Fine. You want to play with fire? Let’s see how well you weather the cold,” the demonic voice says. The child raises her hands, sending forth a snowstorm hailing them with snow, ice shards, and arctic air that could freeze them stiff. While Erryn stands fighting against the storm, Drotonic notices the emerald etched emblem on his staff that represents transference.

  He stands committed, holding the staff sideways to brace against the force. It activates the symbol as it absorbs the entire power of the snowstorm. After finishing the absorption, Drotonic could finally understand the power and magnitude of what Erryn must have gone through absorbing all the fire in Nija. Then a quick green light covers his body in a flash, vanishing as the soul collector complains, “You can’t do that. That’s cheating.”

  Bearing the enhanced magical energy, he gazes upon the child. “Here, why don’t you warm up a bit? Blaze Launcher!” He uses the increased energy, sending green flames as the stones in his arms light up and casts through his staff at the child.

  The soul collector within the child cries out in pain as the blue complexion of the child starts fading, “Hot. Hot. Hot. That’s it. Play time is done. Game over.” A dark purple smog lifts out of the child, returning her to her regular complexion. She drops to the ground as Erryn runs over, cuddling her as her breaths are heavy. Drotonic continues looking around, for he knew from the library the collector wasn’t done.

  The child looks up at Erryn. “Are you an angel?”

  “Oh no; sorry, I’m not. Though, I can promise t
hat you’re safe now. What’s your name?” Erryn asks.

  “Kiley,” she answers.

  “Here, drink this. It’ll make you feel better,” Drotonic hands Erryn the vial and returns his attention to the area.

  Erryn feeds her the vial as a blueish white light sheens over Kiley, “Thank you, sir.” Drotonic nods, and Erryn helps her to her feet as Erryn dresses her with her own coat.

  “How sweet,” comments a voice in the breeze as Kiley clutches Erryn.

  “Kiley, get behind me,” Erryn advises her.

  “I knew you would be back,” Drotonic says, displeased.

  “Please don’t let him take me again.” Kiley implores Erryn.

  “He won’t be able to. You have us now,” Erryn smiles, encouraging her.

  “It’s…it’s him!” Kiley points to a mound of snow rising.

  “You think I would let you go that easily?” teases the creature, now rising in his true form as the snow falls off him. He stands as a deathly cold demon, with horns protruding out of his head, shoulders, and elbows. In addition to having no eyes, it has claws that were three inches long.

  Drotonic is at a loss for words at witnessing its massive size and grotesque body, distorted by tortured faces throughout its torso. It carries the sulfuric scent of rotting corpses.

  Kiley feels something in the pocket of Erryn’s coat. She reaches inside to a sling Erryn fixed back in her woodland home. Handing it to Erryn, she extracts a rock from one of her pouches on her hip and aims, “Here. Have an eye socket.”

  Before Erryn launches the rock, the demon gathers a big snow boulder. Though, something explodes on the creature and it drops the boulder on itself, falling to one knee.

  “Did you just?” Drotonic looks to Erryn.

  “No, I didn’t even get to fire the stone,” Erryn says as Drotonic continues to be confused, seeing Kiley calmly smile.

  A breeze kicks back something from the debris.

  “Burnt cards?” Drotonic asks as Kiley giggles.

  “Kiley, do you know what this came from?” Erryn asks, showing her the card.

  “Yep, and you’re in bigger trouble now, mister,” she yells at the demon, sticking her tongue out.