Soldiers erupt in a flurry of motion.
Their once care-free demeanor fade as if fog against the morning sun.
"Shoot on my mark!"
Staring down below, Allen let a silent gulp- the mass of twisting flesh covering the entirety of his vision.
Squeek!
Squeek!
"FIRE!"
What ensued was nothing short of a scene from the movies of the old.
Bow strings twacked in rapid succession sending a rain of projectiles whistling as they cut through the air.
Sailing towards their mark.
They struck true, sending the horde down below scrambling for a non existent shelter.
Skreech!
Howl of pain and fury rent the air, the horde was re-considering the attack- unconsciously backing a step or two from the towering walls that rained death.
The choice of retreat wasn't upto them- a fact they soon come to realise.
"Again!"
Twack!
Fssshh!
Fshhh!
A rain of arrows blanketted the maroon sky,
Skreech!
Skreech!
The said projectiles land, reaping lives and flesh in their wake.
A deafening silence blanket the atmosphere, as if the world itself was holding its breath for what is to come.
Creak!
The gates slowly swing open,
"Finish off the stragglers!"
The guards rush forward, as if a great tide- with no formation whatsoever.
Swords swing, drawing arcs of pure devastation in their wake.
At some point, Rain had joined in on the massacre.
His midnight- black daggers swiping and drawing lives in the wake of his fury.
They sing and thunder as more and more beasts fall under their unquenchiable lust for blood and carnage.
Rain slides, dodging a poisoned bullet of spit,
Shiik!
Another life fell under the might of his twin blades.
He pauses, looking around- the battle was coming to an end, everything was calming down- save for an occasional screech followed with a sickening squelch of flesh as the swords reaped.
He sweeps his gaze across the blanket of flesh- now he has more beast cores that he could ever wish for just beneath his feet.
Ripe for the taking.
His daggers part flesh, gouging out the cores from the beast corpses before him.
His action goes unnoticed- he takes exactly seven green cores.
Ten if you count the three already in pocket.
With all his requirements taken care of he skulks back into the gates, rushing back to the tavern.
An eye traces his figure as he rushes through the hall and into the store room.
***
"Nightshade powder, I'll need this,"
I mutter to myself, in a rush to gather all the resources for the familiar ritual.
My hands clutch a few candles on my way out.
Now, where can I possibly get bone powder?
It will be hard to find them processed, so I'll have to crush them myself.
My quick steps carry me back to my room in a jiffy.
All the resources are carefully placed onto my straw bed as I rush out to gather and process the last ingredient.
Bones.
They are in plenty on the tavern's backyard, making my work easier.
Now to crush and grind them to dust.
My eyes settle on the grinding wheel at the periphery of my vision.
That'll do.
The collected bones clank as a heavy stone lands on them,shattering to pieces- sending fragments whizzing past my ears as they flew.
It takes me a couple of minutes to get them into the acceptable bone fragments.
Now to the grinding wheel.
The first rotation had me clutching my head in horror- the sickening sound of bone crushing into powder was a torment my ears will never wish to experience again.
It's a miracle nobody came- considering the commotion I was making.
Understandable- everyone was out the gates, helping in the cleaning efforts, for a share of the loot of course.
I can't complain- more time to immerse in my own devices.
If they find me playing with bones, then I might get myself a new title, Rain the bone weirdo- one I couldn't wish to outlive.
I digress, again.
The grinding gradually settles down.
My hand scoops up a handful of bone powder, letting it run through my fingers.
Acceptable- though a bit coarse,
They'll do, for the function I envision.
You would ask, why am I so eager on getting a familiar?
Well, I'm not rushing for a beast companion, but rather the arcana the process will unleash.
It might be just enough to trigger my awakening.
Something I have been dreaming of, wishing for since as long as I can remember.
This is my lifeline!
Failure and I wouldn't know what to do.
Creak!
My room's door opens with a loud creak, letting me through.
I sit on my bed, arranging and categorizing all the requirements and meticulously reading through the text, again and again.
Everything has to be perfect.
I get to work- meticulously drawing the ritual formation, pouring bone powder into thin and fine lines.
"Ahh"
A sigh of satisfaction slips my lips.
Now to place the ritual materials accordingly.
The black nightshade powder- I cough as some enter my nostrils.
The candles, forming an intricate sigil as they all settle,
And lastly the cores, nine of them:
One from the brown weasel, one from the jadestinger scorpion and the rest harvested from the horde of river frogs.
The six settle into the drawn star- encompassed by a circle.
Just where the peaks met.
Two lie on my left and right- the jade stinger core on my right.
And finally the brown core at the centre- just before me.
I draw in a breath, ready to begin-
[This is my last chance to back out]
My thoughts whisper, doubt creeping in
[You don't know how this will turn out]
A long exhale runs out of my throat.
My jaws clamp down,
[So be it!]
I start the memorised chant,
"Ohh, mighty and divine voice, heed my call!"
"Ohh, mighty Ur, the governor of life, heed my call"
"Oh, everwatchful and divine Ur heed my call-"
The candles burst alight,
My breath hitches as whispers emerge from all over, gradually increasing.
Whispers beget chants
Chants beget mighty shouts.
All in a language I can't make sense of.
Streams of coloured steam rise from the cores, swirling as they traced the ritual circle,
I watch, bidding my time...slowly the cores darken, suck dry.
Click!
They break!
Save for one- the brown core before my lotus figure.
The air thrums as it gets charged, sparks of green and brown flying out every moment.
The tempo of the chanting shouts rise, with it, the brown core rises.
Slowly drifting into the air,
The chants get renewed in a new feavour, peaking as the core shakes mid air- the green stream of coloured essence pooling into it,
The chants reach a cresendo
Crack!
I flinch as hairline fractures mar the glossy surface of the core.
Boom!
Fragments fly!
Only to slowly sail back, melting into a stream of essence.
The chants slowly drop,
The stream of essence pooling- visibly forming a silhouette in real time.
My agitated breaths slowly calm down, the ritual was coming to an end.
Squeek!
I rub my eyes, staring at the little brown creature before me.
The ritual has been a sucess!
My fingers run accross the little weasel,
Eyes widening with surprise on how tangible and real the creature felt.
I lift the brown weasel into my palm, It barely fit- close to six inches on estimate.
So much for getting a mighty beast companion, not to mention riding the waves of the ritual to awaken.
Lost dreams!
I sigh, frustrated, my spirits low.
"I'll call you Kai." I murmur
The weasel raises its head as if on cue and dissolves into a brown- green mist.
Barelling and drilling into my temple.
[Ahkh!]
A startled yelp escapes my lips, calming down when nothing more comes of it.
I move to stand- only for the whispers and chants to begin.
"ARRRGH!"
A devastating pain tears through my head, the chants slowly rising in cadence and rhythm.
They reach the peaking cresendo, halting abruptly
A foreign voice sounds within my mind,
[So it begins]
ARRRGH