A Summoner's Calling

by Jacquelyn Evans

  “Hey, we found it,” Valedent smiles, and Erryn stands.

  “So, you know how to work it, right? Please say yes, because I don’t know how much longer Gesthal is going to wait,” Drotonic says.

  “No, but I think I could figure it out in a couple minutes,” Valedent says.

  “Fine, we’ll buy you some time. Just hurry and get it working. Come on, Drotonic,” Erryn says.

  I was really hoping we wouldn’t need to confront them, Drotonic thinks and follows her into the hall.

  “There she is. Now stop with the silliness and let’s go home. King Vladimir misses you,” Gesthal smiles with open arms. As a flash behind them illuminates the darkened hall, allowing additional men to enter the living room wearing either armor or robes.

  “Oh, I bet he misses me, but that’s no concern of mine. He’ll have a long wait before I ever desire going back to him.” Erryn crosses her arms.

  “Is that so? Fine, have it your way. I’ll just have to drag you out by force,” Gesthal shrugs.

  Drotonic steps in front of her, “You can come and try only to fail. I won’t let you.”

  “Oh? Tempting. Alright, let’s see what you got,” Gesthal gestures his men standing by him to go forth.

  “Drotonic do you realize we don’t have our weapons?” Erryn whispers.

  “Improvise, Erryn. We will have to improvise. Take this just in case,” Drotonic hands her a small dagger from his boot as he turns focused and ready.

  “Valedent, you better hurry,” she whispers.

  “I’m working as fast as I can,” he says. Four soldiers charge them. Drotonic stands a similar stance from the Nija temple as his emeralds glow bright green. Erryn steps back, recognizing the glow and green runic circles which appear. They ignite the same green toxic flame as before.

  “Blaze Launcher Fury,” Drotonic casts as the color changes to yellow and the flames form into a spherical shape. Then he makes repetitive thrust movements with his hands and arms, throwing them at the incoming soldiers. Scorches mark the walls and debris clatter to the floor. In the dispersing smoke, a shadowy figure persists.

  “Drotonic look out,” Erryn shouts, pointing into the clouded smoke as the shadowy figure rushes Drotonic, kicking him in the face. He slams into the wall and falls on the floor. When his vision clears, he is stunned by the face of his enemy.

  Erryn bends down to him, resting her hand on his shoulder, “What’s wrong?”

  “How could you? You’re supposed to be one of us. The bishop trusted you,” Drotonic says in disbelief. Erryn does a double take at the soldier, realizing he was one of the soldiers from their guard. She stands up, clenching her fist firm with Drotonic’s dagger in her grip.

  “Well, you heard him; answer him. How could you do this?” Erryn asks him.

  “Simple. I’ve never been one of you. My leader needed intel about this place, and this organization you people call a temple. I follow orders and played the role they assigned me, which granted me the chance to also achieve my own personal goals,” Jasper smiles.

  “Where’s the comrade who was at your post with you? And the mysterious soldier coming down the hallway?” Erryn questions.

  “Oh my ‘comrade’ as you call him, he’s right here,” He points behind him as one of Gesthal’s other guards throws Cros’s dead body onto the floor in front of the hallway. “And about the unannounced soldier in the hallway? He’s my contact to send information to the magnificent general and King Vladimir. However, my so-called ‘comrade’ Cros pulled a fast one and locked the door under his sole control. Bastard realized the ruse quicker than I anticipated or else we would have been in here sooner.”

  “What’s made you so heartless?” Drotonic asks.

  “The bishop,” he answers, walking towards Erryn as she steps backward.

  The bishop? How can that be possible? wonders Drotonic.

  “So, what? You think you can just hand me over to them assuming there’s no way for me to escape, I presume?” she inquires.

  “Why not and take this advantage to help my Lord? It makes sense,” he persists.

  “If you say so, but Gesthal and Vladimir know all too well. I never go willingly or quietly anymore. Thanks to my experiences, I will never commit the same mistake of volunteering to walk into his home. Isn’t that right, Gesthal?” Erryn says aloud.

  “A minor technicality, but now you will come with us,” Gesthal adds.

  “Now come here,” the guard says, reaching out his arm to grab her as four objects fly right out of the bathroom.

  “Ah! I’m stuck!” the guard shouts as Erryn sees cards stabbed into the wall holding his arm in place.

  “Now, Jasper, this is how it’s going to play out. So, listen well for I’ll only be saying this once. You will not be leaving here alive,” Valedent says, walking to the bathroom door.

  “Who goes there? I thought there were only two people in here?” Gesthal asks Jasper.

  “It supposed to be only two, sir. I don’t know how this third individual got in here. He didn’t enter by the door,” Jasper informs Gesthal.

  “I hate inconsistencies,” Gesthal sighs.

  “You can’t kill me. That would be murder and you’re no high-ranking Crusader with such power. What makes you think you can do this without ramifications from the bishop?” Jasper says to Valedent.

  “Simple; I’m outsourced. I’m used by the temple but ranking higher than any Crusader could ever hold,” Valedent whispers.

  “Yeah right, you’re bluffing. You’re just a gambler with no purpose to your life. You’re lucky to even walk the world in which Lord Vladimir exists. There isn’t a standing higher than my own who stands so close to the bishop,” Jaspers says.

  “You poor, confused child. In denial much? You aligning with Vladimir forfeits all standings with the bishop. If you surrender now, maybe you’ll live through this, but I won’t guarantee you how you’ll leave here.” Valedent grins with his hand gripping tighter around his cane.

  “Get away from Erryn,” Drotonic pulls his distraught self-up from the ground.

  “What? Are you going to make me? I doubt it. You can barely stand, shorty. You guys are hilarious. Even if the bishop’s legitimate dead son could rise from the dead, I’d still be in the powerful standing I am today. I could slay him in any matter, and while no one would care, I would relish in the pleasure being all mine. The glorious honor of killing his son,” Jasper cackles.

  “Oh, what a life of cruelty for the bishop. That’s a shame we could have prospered off his misery in benefit for our Lord. Too bad for him and this city,” Gesthal chuckles.

  “What do you mean ‘and the city’?” Drotonic asks him.

  “Oh, just like Nija. We’ll leave a mark and reteach all on what land they live and how to live accordingly without the traitorous acts of helping you,” Gesthal says.

  “No. How could you? They didn’t deserve that. Not once have they ever earned your aggression.” Erryn covers her mouth to stifle a cry.

  “No matter how dirty and rotten you treat them, you’ll never gain their cooperation. Your ‘mark’ left on them will only ensure you get nothing from them.” Drotonic defends the strength of his home village.

  “Hey, I’m still standing here. You think I would let you do that?” Valedent says.

  “Who are you to an army of Vladimir’s best? Let’s not forget the Black Razors led by yours truly, General Gesthal,” Jasper boasts.

  Drotonic observes Erryn’s crushed face, and his heart bleeds for the burden she carries. He knows she is blaming herself for the fate of Nija and Pinya.

  Jasper screams, stumbling back with his arm severed and by cards on the wall, holding it in place.

  “My arm! What happened to my arm?” Jasper tries to cup the rest of his arm as blood seeps through his fingers.

  “Maybe you should have chosen more wisely which side to be on,” Valedent advises.

  “What’s going on up there? What happened?” Gesthal asks with his
hand now on the hilt of his sword.

  “My arm. It’s been severed, sir. I don’t understand how, no one moved,” Jasper pales in pain.

  “Men bring me Erryn, now,” Gesthal orders.

  “Sir,” the soldiers reply charging in.

  “I don’t think so,” Valedent whispers as Jasper falls to his knees unable to seize the bleeding. The six mage razors accompanying Gesthal, raising their hands to call on a power which grants them in pairs. It gives them energies belonging to three different colors and properties—pink, eggplant purple, and black. The two encompassed in a black aura cast onto the surrounding area gaining control of the scattered destroyed furnishings levitating them. Erryn’s hands contain Zaravarn’s flame as a lightning spark moves past Drotonic.

  The soldiers funnel into the hall with raised blades as the sound of clashing metals make those charging halt with confusion defend their position. Drotonic notices quick sparks of lightning moving fast from left to right, keeping the soldiers busy.

  “Where’s Valedent?” Erryn shouts to Drotonic while he calls on his embedded emeralds conjuring his toxic flame. Then the lightning spiders lightly illuminating Valedent’s image within the lightning. You can use magic? How’s that possible? Drotonic thinks as he begins to hear a familiar chanting. The purple magic from the other pair begins stretching across the ceiling.

  “Valedent, move.” Drotonic hollers and connects the bottoms of his palms coursing a green energy as the flames create a vortex. Thrusting his arms forward, he casts, “Blaze Launcher.” However, this time the hall becomes filled with green and yellow flames, pushing and roasting the soldier back to Gesthal. The soldiers’ metal armor corrodes, transforming it into a liquid metal. The soldiers scream through a slow death as the metal soaks through their clothes and onto their skin.

  Drotonic’s spell finishes as the smell of burning flesh and smoke fill the air. Sharp black objects fly, cutting through the clouded room. A quick lifting grasp onto Drotonic’s chest brings him to the ground to see Valedent on the ground with him.

  “Sorry, duck.” Valedent gestures with a slight smile. Drotonic whips back toward Erryn, assuming she would have no chance to react. She steps forward with the black manipulated debris crumbling to ash, spotting her eyes glowing of a white flame with her hands burning bright. A swing from a blade cuts the lingering smog to Gesthal holding his signature blade, The Sentinel Edge, as yellow and green flames finished being absorbed into it with a few soldiers moving to fight the pain.

  “It’s not nice to throw things at people,” Erryn scolds the mages, lifting her hands with a ball of flames in each and throwing them at the black casters. The fire encases the casters, roasting their bodies. She waves her hands from the ground as a wave of flames begins to surface but the purple casters chant louder, invoking their essence to nullify her.

  Erryn collapses to the ground, her legs weak and coughing. “Drotonic, it’s like before but worse.” Drotonic springs to her while her casted flames dwindle from the black essence casters, but the damage from the fire already reduced them to their burnt skeletons. The purple essence from the ceiling continues to funnel onto her. But as he turns to Valedent, a battle-hardened boot kicks in his face, knocking him over.

  Jasper grapples his remaining arm around her neck tight, gaining custody of her.

  “Good, now bring her here. His majesty will be pleased.” Gesthal orders. Drotonic looks ahead, trying to shake his eyesight straight. He notices the last pair of casters using their magic on themselves, for they have changed into something unworldly. Transformation magic? But those beings are supposed to be sealed away, Drotonic thinks as he tries to make out their forms. He uses his arms to lift himself up, as sounds of Jasper choking distracts him. Valedent stands beside Drotonic with his sword stabbed clean through Jaspers throat.

  “You’re going to wish you killed me in the alley before Roland and Jax pulled you and your friends off of me years ago,” Valedent says before retracting his blade. Erryn drops gasping for air but the energy still surrounds her. However, Drotonic could see the making casters of pink energies turning into two new soul collectors as the casters’ aura begun to fall.

  Drotonic hears a cling, seeing Erryn holding his gifted dagger as she throws piercing under one of the purple caster’s jaw and into the curvature of his throat. The purple lifts, but instead of equally receding into the casters, one of the transformed pink casters lunges at the scent of blood. It shreds their flesh for consumption. The purple essence pours into the remaining caster, overwhelming them as the power causes him to grip his hair pulling, clawing wounds to balance out the power.

  “Let’s go. I prefer not to be looked at with hungry eyes.” Valedent says, gesturing to the other pink caster. Drotonic helps her up and they follow Valedent, hurrying into the bathroom.

  “Oh no you don’t. Get them,” Gesthal commands the other pink mage as the remaining purple mage’s body explodes from the unstable power. Drotonic quickly steps in. Erryn seems to either be tripped or shoved into the bathroom door, noticing purple to course through her veins but fades just as quickly it appeared.

  Valedent grabs her arm, pulling her inside and shouts to Drotonic, “Shut the door.”

  Drotonic slams the door, locking it. The collector continues its rage within the hall as it meets the door, clawing and rattling it.

  “Shall we get out of here, then?” Valedent steps quick into the shower, but Erryn stands stiff at the sink and looks at the mirror. Drotonic steps to her side, placing a hand on her shoulder as a tear escapes her control.

  “Nija, Pinya, all these people’s pain,” Erryn tears.

  “Come on. We’ll leave Pinya and lure their attention elsewhere, relieving these people of Vladimir’s pain.” Drotonic says trying to sooth her.

  “Guys?” Valedent pokes his head out, witnessing the hold up. Valedent steps quick and turns her to face him, lifting her chin to see his eyes. “Look, none of this is your fault. Vladimir has been wanting to claim this town for a long time. Now, unlike Drotonic who wanted to keep you safe, best intentions by the way, but trapped down here from the fight, we both know where you’d rather be,” Valedent says as she wipes her tears and she nods, following him into the shower.

  Drotonic registers the shock of Erryn’s face and receives a shove with Erryn’s shoulder. How does this guy know that? The only person who would know that would be the bishop? he wonders as the doors begins to splinter through while stepping into the shower.

  “This door isn’t going to hold them, you know that, right?” Drotonic mentions.

  “We’ll be fine, now,” Valedent says as a heavy armored man marches into the hall, drawing the attention of the hungry collector.

  “No, don’t do it,” Drotonic hears Gesthal as it roars and charges at him. He turns to Erryn as it was clear she heard it too. They wait, watching the door, while Valedent preps the contraption. The question became who would be victor, Gesthal or a new soul collector—by banging on the door.

  Then banging, not scratching, comes to the door. “Erryn, come out.” Gesthal calls out, rattling the doorknob loose. That’s not good, Drotonic thinks.

  “Nope, you’re not getting in here. Sorry, high class only,” Valedent pulls a lever on the contraption, activating metal doors that slide across the doorway.

  “Brilliant,” Drotonic cheers.

  “Yeah, but I assume it won’t hold them for long,” Valedent guesses as Gesthal rips the door off the hinges.

  “I swear, Erryn—,” Gesthal curses.

  “Um, Valedent hurry up with that. Gesthal’s going to bust that down,” Erryn shakes his arm as another roar echoes from the living charging down the hall. Fingers crossed, but then a sling causes a thump in the hall.

  “Kozic, perfect timing. Show me what your training has taught you. Knock down this solid metal door,” Gesthal demands.

  “Yes, sir. I won’t let you down, sir,” Kozic replies as a shuffle in placement could be heard.

  “
Is that the guy from Nija?” Erryn asks Drotonic.

  “Possibly,” Drotonic sighs.

  “What’s taking so long?” Erryn asks Valedent.

  “Someone took a shower, it seems, and it made things a bit wonky. No worries though,” Valedent assures her.

  “Um, you better worry and hurry because we got dark stuff going on here,” Drotonic enlightens Valedent as the bottom of the door and all around the creases is a moving dark essence of black mist.

  “Drotonic? What is that?” she asks.

  “I dare not say,” Drotonic says.

  “Valedent, I think that warrants for you to hurry the hell up,” she points at the door.

  “Got it. Oh damn, that’s all it was? Damn latch,” Valedent laughs.

  “Here, it comes,” Drotonic warns them, tucking more into the shower.

  “Hell’s Blade,” Kozic shouts. A brimstone fire slices through the door, throwing in into the room. It disintegrates without even a trail of ash.

  “Fantastic, Kozic. It’s a pleasure to see progress in the flesh," Gesthal applauds, walking into the bathroom.

  “Valedent?” Erryn pats his arm.

  “There, hang on to something,” Valedent advises.

  “Hiding in the shower, are we?” Gesthal smirks.

  “Nope, bye-bye,” She smiles, waving as the entire stall encases itself with stone walls. With quickness, they drop through the floor.

  “ERRYN!” They can hear Gesthal’s enraged voice. His shouting turns to faint echoes the more distance they gain.

  “I take it he’s not very happy,” Valedent says.

  “He never is,” Erryn laughs.

  “Oh, question? No one is afraid of a little water, right?” Valedent asks, placing a hand on Drotonic’s shoulder.

  “No, why?” Drotonic asks.

  “Well, to stop us from free-falling farther, we’ll hit the underground water so we can reach our destination,” Valedent explains.