Chapter 2 The Summoning
The Summoning
TARANIS
I moved through the ancient temple, silent as a shadow against time-worn stone. The air carried both decay and something stranger—a residual energy that raised the hair on my neck. Light broke through cracks in the distant ceiling, illuminating walls covered in carvings.
The Great Sundering's curse tainted everything—withered plants veined with darkness, air thick with contamination. My light spell flickered, magic fighting against me like something alive. I tightened my grip on my staff, the carved runes a small comfort against the arcane drain.
In the shifting glow, the patterns on the walls—stories left behind by those who'd walked here ages before—pulsed with an otherworldly energy: the unmistakable signature of the legendary phoenix I'd been tasked with retrieving in utmost secrecy.
Deeper into the temple, corridors narrowed. Faded frescoes stretched overhead—forgotten gods watching my trespass. The very air whispered warnings: One wrong step, and it all falls apart.
I'd faced countless dangers in my role as emissary of the Mage's Council, but something about this place, this mission, set my nerves on edge.
More than my own safety was at stake; the withering magic of my people depended on my success.
Brotherhood among emissaries meant little when such power was at stake.
A chill breeze carried faint whispers and the scent of ash, hinting at the phoenix's presence.
The phoenix was close. I could feel it in my bones.
If I was successful, I would sneak in and out of the temple, retrieving the creature without being noticed by humans and supernaturals alike.
The curse plaguing my realm would be lifted, and the Mage's Council would finally see that their faith in me had not been misplaced.
Perhaps then the weight of responsibility would ease, if only for a moment.
The sound of raised voices interrupted my thoughts, echoing through the halls, growing louder with each step I took.
I ground my teeth. It would appear I wasn't the only one invited to the party. My heart pounded in my chest as I recognized the distinctive tones of other realms’ emissaries.
Their words were laced with barely contained hostility, and I quickened my pace, drawn forward by a sense of urgency I couldn't quite explain.
The arguing grew louder as I approached, punctuated by the occasional crash of stone on stone. I could practically feel the crackle of elemental energy in the air, and I knew I had to act fast before I lost my opportunity to secure the phoenix.
I approached a massive set of stone doors, their surfaces adorned with serpentine carvings, with one door opened just enough to allow passage.
Pressing my back against the cool stone, I edged closer, straining to hear the voices beyond.
They were now clear enough to make out, and my stomach dropped as I recognized my formidable opponents.
"You dare question my loyalty?" Ryu's voice was a snarl, his anger palpable even through the thick stone.
"Loyalty?" Aeolus scoffed, his tone laced with contempt. "You wouldn't know loyalty if it bit you on the ass, you overgrown lizard."
I scrubbed a hand across my stubbled chin, fighting the urge to burst through the doors and put an end to their pointless bickering.
Perhaps I should present them with a dictionary entry for "diplomacy" instead—clearly a foreign concept to both.
Ryu and Aeolus had always been at each other's throats, so I supposed this was to be expected.
Dragon-shifter Ryu—all explosive temper and smoke curling from clenched fists.
I'd seen him reduce an entire negotiation table to cinders.
And Aeolus, changeable as wind, silver hair catching light as he wove lies with that dangerous smile.
I'd learned never to trust a fae's promises, especially when delivered with that particular tilt of his head.
The thought of being trapped in a room with those two was enough to make me consider turning tail and leaving the temple altogether.
As if anyone would blame me if they knew what it was like dealing with a fire-breathing dragon and a spell-slinging scoundrel on a good day, let alone in a death trap of a temple.
But I knew I couldn't do that. The fate of the Mage's Council hung in the balance.
I had to find a way to outsmart or avoid them.
With a heavy sigh, I peered around the open stone door, my heart racing as I strained to get a better view of the chamber beyond.
I pushed my spectacles higher on my nose, the gesture familiar after years spent poring over ancient texts, and gripped my staff tighter, drawing comfort from the carved symbols of arcane protection under my fingers.
The other male emissaries hadn't noticed me yet—a testament to my Council training.
The cavernous space was bathed in an otherworldly light.
Ancient pillars, carved with symbols of power, stretched towards a ceiling lost in shadow.
And there, circling the center like wary predators, were the other emissaries.
Ryu's eyes glowed with inner fire, wisps of smoke wafting from his clenched fists.
His draconic heritage was evident in the way he moved, every gesture filled with coiled power ready to be unleashed.
The set of his jaw and the slight flaring of his nostrils betrayed a deeper emotion beneath the rage—a pride wounded by decades of perceived betrayals.
Aeolus stood opposite him, the air around him shimmering with barely contained magical energy.
His silver hair danced in a wind that seemed to touch no one else, and his eyes held a dangerous glint that I'd seen before when he was at his most unpredictable—a mixture of mischief and something darker, more calculating.
"Enough!" a new voice cut through the bickering.
Lucas, the emissary of the Moonfire Federation, stepped between Ryu and Aeolus, his deep voice resonating through the air, strong but carrying an edge of weariness.
He had a strategic mind and fierce pack loyalty, but was dangerous and unpredictable.
"This squabbling is pointless," he snapped, and for a fleeting moment, I wondered if the words were meant for them or for himself.
"We have a duty to fulfill, and we cannot afford to waste time on petty rivalries. "
I groaned internally, realizing I was going to have to deal with all of them. The weight of my mission seemed to double in an instant, crushing down on shoulders already bearing the expectations of an entire Council.
As I watched the emissaries argue, their accusations growing more heated by the second, I considered what had drawn us all here on this fateful night.
They were all here for the same reason I was—to claim the phoenix for their own purposes and their own realms. It was the only explanation that made sense, given the prophecy's promise of the creature's power to break the curse.
For a brief instant, I considered joining the argument, asserting the Mage’s Council's claim to the phoenix and reminding them of the sacrifices my people had made for all of theirs.
The temptation to engage in verbal sparring was strong, to unleash my pent-up frustrations and defend my realm's honor.
But as I scanned the room, I noticed a flicker of movement from the corner of my eye.
Desmond, the enigmatic bear-shifter emissary of the Whispering Pines Region, was drifting along the chamber's perimeter, fingers tracing the tangled patterns on the walls.
He seemed utterly unperturbed by the heated argument, which didn't surprise me.
I watched, fascinated, as Desmond communed with the ancient stone, his large hands moving with surprising gentleness across the wall.
His eyes closed in meditation as he listened to the temple's memories, each touch awakening sigils that pulsed with an eerie, otherworldly light.
The ancient markings responded to his earth magic like flowers turning toward the sun, their glow a whispered conversation between stone and spirit.
The magical glow reflected off my spectacles as I studied his work, promising immense power that could be our salvation or our downfall.
With each charged sigil, the temple shuddered.
Stone ground against stone, the floor shifting beneath my feet.
I gripped my staff tighter as dormant magics awakened.
I made my decision. Desmond's silent approach offered refuge from the chaos. His connection to nature spirits ran deep, and that earth magic could unlock the temple's secrets. It was my best chance at the phoenix.
I quietly stole into the room. Hunched low, I edged my way around the chamber, pulling my cloak tight around me and keeping to the shadows as I trailed Desmond's path.
The other emissaries, engrossed in their heated debate, didn't notice me as I slipped from pillar to pillar, my footfalls silent on the ancient stone.
"You speak of betrayal, Ryu?" Aeolus sneered, his eyes glinting with barely contained rage. "Have you forgotten the Battle of the Scorched Plains, where your forces abandoned mine in the heat of battle? The darkness claimed dozens of my kin that fateful day."
Ryu's eyes flickered, a brief flash of something almost like hurt before it reignited as pure rage. For a moment, it seemed like the argument wasn't just about loyalty. It was about something deeper, something raw that neither was ready to admit.
Ryu's fists clenched tighter, wisps of smoke now curling from his knuckles.
"Rich words from a trickster like you, Aeolus.
Or should I remind you of the time you started the seven-year war between two human noble houses in Stonehold with one of your poorly timed pranks?
Your meddling in mortal affairs has caused more damage than any of my flames ever could. "
Lucas growled. "If we're airing grievances, what about the Moonfire Federation's suffering during the Drought of Sorrows? Where were your realms then, when my people cried out for aid?"
The room heated with their flying accusations, the ancient stones groaning under centuries of festered resentment between our realms. As I followed Desmond deeper into the temple, the weight of my position as emissary of the Mage's Council threatened to crush me.
The curse had contaminated more than magic—it had poisoned trust itself.
But perhaps his silence offered the right path forward—a temporary refuge from wounds too deep for words.
I catalogued my opponents as I followed Desmond—Ryu's raw power, Aeolus's cunning, Lucas's determination.
Play them against each other, or slip away while they're distracted.
The treachery tasted bitter, but my people's withered magic demanded it.
Children barely able to light candles. Elders forgetting centuries of knowledge.
Watching Desmond's purposeful movements, something stirred—hope? I crushed it before it could take root.
Desmond paused, his fingers stilling over the stone as it began to glow with an inner light.
I held my breath, watching in fascination as the wall slowly dissolved, revealing a hidden passage beyond.
The stone seemed to melt away like ice in sunlight, leaving a perfectly formed archway where solid rock had been moments before.
"Masterfully done," I murmured, unable to keep the admiration from my voice.
Desmond turned, fixing me with his deep, soulful gaze. For a moment, I feared he might alert the others to my presence, but instead, he just jerked his head toward the darkened corridor, a silent invitation to follow.
As we stepped into the hidden passage, leaving the sounds of arguments behind, I couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope.
Perhaps, working together, we could find a way to break the curse that plagued our realms without resorting to further conflict.
The hunt for the phoenix had only just begun, and I had a sinking feeling that before this was over, all of our loyalties would be tested in ways we never thought possible.