A Desperate Ritual

“Are you sure this is a good idea, my lord? Her highness will be most cross that you did this without asking her first.”

“Think nothing of it. As her father, I shall take full responsibility, come what may. Balam will surely disagree. He has been eager to be the aid of my daughter on her journey, but I fear Balam feeds her ego too strongly. We need an outsider that can ground and guide her. Never mind the Dark Lord, she needs to sharpen her mind should she wish to succeed me when I finally pass on.”

“My lord…” A moment’s silence passes between the two. Several figures in dark hoods stand silently, heads hung low. Their eyes are shut, searching for an unseen thread that lingers beyond what sight might find. Their robes differ in color from one another, each one signifying their specialty, but tonight they work as one around a magic circle drawn by the best among them.

“As you wish. Then I only pray that I shall meet your expectations, my king.”

“I’m sure you shall, Hutch. I have faith in your methods. We only have one shot, I’m sure whomever you find shall be perfect.”

As Hutch takes his position at the head of the circle, he leads a chant as the torches lighting the room go dark, drowning the room in darkness for only a moment. A blue hue soon takes their place as their chants synchronize, a discordant tone that echoed in the cosmos, but the universe wasn't the only thing that listened.

“Your majesty, please, reconsider!” A knight in heavy armor enters the room, panting. He had felt the ritual taking place from outside, fearing the worst, he ran with all his might to come here. “You’d consider an outsider over one of your own!? Your majesty, whoever you pluck from the great aether beyond will have his life ruined! He could be dying of starvation, a despot of happy lands, or he may just be a regular man, but what you are doing is ripping him away from everyone he knows and loves! We have no means of sending him back, would you condemn someone to such a lonely fate!? Have I wronged you somehow, sire!? Have I proven insufficient!?!” The knight begs and shouts, his expression a mixture of hurt and desperation. He had served his king with the utmost loyalty, he had prepared for years to take care of the princess on her journey, yet now they go behind his back to summon someone else? Why would the king do that to him?

“Balam, have you been eavesdropping?” The king turns from the circle to his knight, granting Balam his complete attention.

“No, my lord! I felt the call, I’m sure every being in the kingdom has felt it! This magic is powerful, the citizenry will know something is going on, worse, The Dark Lord will surely know because of it! This is madness, my lord!”

“I will not hear this, Balam. You have served me with great faith, I ask that you have faith in your king now. Your skills are legendary, Balam, it is why you were tasked with training my daughter, but an outsider is exactly what we need for her to grow. All I ask is that you continue to watch over her, no matter what happens to me.” The king turns his back to his most trusted knight, and all eyes are drawn to the circle once more, a portal within the aetheric rift began to open, and the winds of magic begin to howl. It screams—its power shaking the bones of all present and causing the whole castle to shudder, including the dark dungeons beneath the ground where the ritual was hidden. Balam, all the while, is no longer able to voice concern or protest. Even if he did, it wouldn’t stop what was happening, the summoning had begun.

Up above, the servants fear an earthquake is ripping through the castle. They clutch and cling to whatever they can, protecting themselves and the many fragile items they’re trusted with maintaining, meanwhile the beasts all begin to panic. Howling, calling, crying, bucking against restraints or hiding wherever they can, on some level even they know something is wrong. The chef tries to keep his kitchen together, though he stares in awe as every pot of water began to boil. Magic in this realm is a natural thing, and as such water is incredibly resonant with it, reacting, conducting, one can often tell the state of the land by its water, and that the water boils without flame frightens him to his core. He fears he will die tonight.

“What’s going on?! Are we under attack??” Asked Illyandaril Rose, both princess and prophesied hero. Leaping out of bed, she didn't feel the same fear as her servants do, in fact she feels none at all. It was finally time for her to prove to her father that she didn’t need a babysitter to help her. Putting on her battle regalia she reaches swiftly for the greataxe resting upon her wall and runs down the hall, stopping at a window to look outside, but to her disappointment, she didn't see any smoke, no flames. This wasn’t from the Dark Lord? If he wasn’t attacking, what was causing this quake? Finally, she shuddered, a cold chill striking her to her core. Every guard she saw shook, every servant skittering like a mouse that knew it was caught.

She ran to find her father, first checking the throne room, the war room, then his bedroom, yet he was nowhere to be found. She shifted her search, next seeking Hutch, but he wasn’t in his usual places, and neither was Balam. Just what in the world was going on!? “Illya!!” The voice snaps her back to reality. The apprentice of the court mage, and Illya’s lifelong friend. “Can you feel it? This much magic in the air, it’s like we’re practically swimming in aether!” She can barely contain her excitement, magic of this power was simply too interesting to the magician, though magic has always been her greatest fascination. “That doesn’t matter, where’s my father?”

“Oh, I don’t quite know, either. It’s strange though, isn’t it? I’ve never felt anything like this, ever, and everyone can feel it, too, even people who aren’t in tune with aether. My lady, perhaps it’d be best if we—”

The shaking becomes more violent, causing the young magician to tumble. Light swiftly fills the halls, but from no discernible direction. Everything is consumed in a blazing, blinding white, before it sups down, condensing somewhere beneath the castle, beyond the princess’ gaze. It was only now that she’d know just where everyone was. 

Without stopping, she begins a full sprint as she bites her lower lip, fear, confusion, and betrayal warring in her mind as she realizes just what they were doing in the ritual room. She hadn’t thought he’d go through with it, she thought her father trusted her more. She knows Balam had wanted to go with her, so surely he didn’t suggest this, so could Hutch have betrayed her? She was already strong enough, and she was going to go with the strongest knight in the kingdom, did Hutch want her to fail!? Her rage only grew as her mind continued to convince itself of the malicious intent behind the summoning. 

Tears began to well in her eyes, angry and hurt at her father’s apparent lack of faith in his own daughter. Her imagination ran rampant, wondering just what she had done to displease him. Before she got half-way down the dungeon stairs, that overwhelming feeling of magic had suddenly gone away, like standing in a tornado that suddenly stilled. The ritual was over.