Day 72,
At what point do you allow yourself to rest? When can I sit and say in good conscious that I have done all that I can do?
These are the questions that I ask myself, actually tease myself with in the hopes that I can say, yes I may now rest. I believed I had purchased my freedom just a year ago, until that day in the vineyard.
At ease walking with Makaus amongst the vineyard, a lone wolf cried out along the border of fangorn estate and my blood froze. Not allowing Makaus to witness my surprise, that single note, called to the moon, ripped what small hope I had of retiring peacefully.
Returning to the estate I noticed my seneschal awaiting me at the door, face grim. Telling Makaus to ready for bed I asked Angrin to join me in the study. With mounting grim we looked to each other and nodded. Moving to my desk and removing the hidden key, I opened the safe containing the astrolabe and bade Angrin to call forth his ancestral knowledge of foretelling, ever the Bakluni astrologer. Never once questioning me, he looked deep into my eyes giving me the chance to reconsider.
Knowing that was unlikely, angrin moved to the library and removed the volume named “Alk adab Tabda Bixa”, loosely translating to “All things achieved in silence.” Cracking the dusty manuscript open took me back many years.
The tome was penned by a man named Mukinzir al’ Hatal, who later, partially renounced his heritage and became self indebted to a man not of his culture, until death. In an effort to leave his past life behind him, he adopted the name Angrin and swore fealty to me what could be three decades past. Our fates have ever since been entwined, for good or ill. My quest started 25 years ago with that same howl which led me to Angrin.
Removing the massive area rug on the floor, Angrin grabbed the astrolabe from the desk and walked to the starseer peering out into the night sky. I lowered myself to my knees and leaning over I attempted to move away the thin film of sand and dust covering the diadem with my weathered hand. Feeling each crease and chisel mark of the summoning diagram, my heart ached with the knowledge I might have to use it once again. Tracing the cold forged iron that makes up the intricate design, a small glow emanated from the tracery of my finger. Eager power filled my finger tips, calling me to do the job for what the diagram was intended for, calling and binding creatures of the outer planes to do my bidding.
Angrin retuning from his astrological stargazing, he informed me that the astrolabe was calibrated and attuned to the appropriate measurements. Taking the mystical instrument from angrin, I placed the astrolabe into the middle nook of the binding circle, completing the diagram with a twist and click. Unseen to all but the trained eye, magical power surged within the room, centered and contained within the circle. Now powered by the constellations above, by ancient bakluni lore, the Binder was ready.
Removing one of the few scroll tubes left from my shelves, I opened it and began to attempt to memorize the contents within. Angrin walking to the hearth began to stoke the dying fire in an attempt to rekindle its warmth. When the fire was at the appropriate size, he removed my sword from the chimney wall and began to oil its ancient blade, in preparation for what was to come. Hours passed and another howl pierced the night, seeming to originate just outside my study.
Realizing time was of the essence, I knew I was underprepared and unqualified for what I was attempting to do. Just a few years ago this feat would not have worried me in the least, but current circumstances and one particular encounter, left me weaker for it. In doing this I am surpassing my skill to a dangerous level, but heavy is the crown called Duty, and so I must take the chance.
Anger filling my mind that this summoning was a simple task only years ago, I reach the void, a state of mind one must achieve in order to perform a calling. Reading directly from the scroll of calling I begin to enact the rite of displacing the one called, delivering it to my prepared trap inside my home. Angrin closes all the blinds and shutters so that the creature will not be able to gaze outside my windows and know its location, later attempting to exact its revenge upon its captor.
Watching the scrolls ink begin to fade as my incantation drudged on, I begin to get a pang of worry that the words are disappearing faster that I can read, ultimately resulting in the spell failing or actually summoning the appropriate creature but without the wards in place to bind it and keep it from attacking the caller. This is what happens to those using magic beyond their ability. Angrin handing me Cuelendar, my sword that is not a sword, I feel rejuvenated and realize that my old friend is with me and that Makaus’s life could very well be at stake.
At the completion of my calling, black and green flames shoot from the fireplace to the center of the diagram forming a maelstrom of fire and ash. With a bone chilling howl and a puff of smoke, growling can be heard from the center of the circle. Smoke filling the circle like it’s encased in cylindrical glass, there is no movement, only the sound of heavy breathing and the smell of death. Within a hearts beat, the creature flew at the transparent walls testing its cage, hoping that its innate magical resistance will be enough to free itself.
Guttural laughter came from the monsters cage and the sound of the creature inhaling deeply, sucking in all the smoke that disguised its appearance into its nostrils. The creature spoke first, “Eschallus, brave or foolish to call me, which one is it?” it said with a sneer.
Eschallus is the name the underworld had given me many years ago. It is a version of the infernal and diabolical language, bastardized in turn, translating to the common tongue meaning “nightingale”. Not in the mood to play verbal chess that evening, I got right to the point. “Razeal, I heard a wolf howl at the moon tonight, although it is a new moon, why does he howl? Does the second son stride once more upon the surface of the Flanness?”
“Eschallus, it has been many years since we have talked and it appears that the rumors are true, retirement has made you soft, you are but a shadow of your former self, barely able to restrain me, tis a shame.” smiled Razeal. “There are many, who would like to know that you have not fallen and are indeed alive.”
“If that is the deal set forth in our arrangement, then the terms are set and the dye is cast, I accept your terms, Eschallus and will return to fulfill my end of the bargain with in the week, now release me,” replied Razeal.
Looking down to the remnants of the spell that I penned over a year ago, there was but one line left in the spell, that if read correctly would compel this demon to do the agreed task and come back to this same spot, one week from today and deliver the information.
“You must notify Jallarzi, Dorwin and Keedles, there is too much at stake,” states Angrin.
With heavy shoulders I placed my old sword upon the mantle of the fireplace and sat down, “Yes, I know. My old friend, could you bring me some hot water; I must drink my tea as that ordeal left me weakened. Makaus will surely know that something is amiss, we must keep him preoccupied, maybe send him to Meric’s, yes?”
With a nod, my oldest friend left me to ponder my next move.
