Memories from that night rested in his mind fully this time around, no flashes, no skips, fully.
He thought to himself and wondered if the opportunity to do it all over again rose, if he would.
The ritual was not a one-man job.
The summoner knew that much.
The book had made that painfully clear.
Three were required.
Three roles.
Three people who would carry different pieces of the ritual, though only one of them had willingly stepped into the forest that night.
The keeper.
The summoner.
And the vessel.
The keeper had been told what she needed to know.
The summoner knew more.
And the vessel knew almost nothing at all.
That was intentional.
Her part in what was about to happen served a far greater purpose than she could ever conceive.
She simply knew she had been taken into the woods.
She knew her wrists had been bound.
She knew she had begged to go home.
And she knew nobody had listened.
The clearing was almost completely dark.
