The Summoner's Fear

Professor Brafta sat at his desk reviewing his students’ essays on the geometry of summoning. He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. A knock sounded from his door. He stood, relieved to have an excuse to step away from the essays.

“This came for you, sir,” said a messenger as the professor opened the door. She held out a letter.

“Thank you.” He took the letter and returned to his desk. It read,

University of Dema

Department of Summoning

Regarding an issue of binding

To whom it may concern,

We have recently had trouble binding one of our imp servants. No amount of binding jewelry has been able to fully stop his destructive behavior. We have consulted a variety of experts but have not seen the results we desire. We kindly request the aid of one of your capable faculty.

Kindly,

Family Temrit

The professor’s chest tightened. It’s happening already. He stood and left his office. He passed by the university’s stable, with a few carriages and several large imps - hulking creatures with dark skin, red eyes, and golden cuffs around their wrists, embedded with jewels. He shuddered, picturing the beasts rampaging through the city. It’s not far off.

Instead of requesting a carriage, he used the opportunity to take his daily walk. He relished in the warm sunlight, but also took care to limit his exposure. I can’t risk another sunburn.

An hour later, a servant was leading him across the beautiful landscape of the Temirit estate. His shoulders slumped when they entered the building, moving from the warmth of the sun and lush green and colorful flowers of the garden to the overt opulence of the interior. Everything from the rugs to the ceiling trim was of the highest quality, much of it appearing to be solid gold.

It won’t be long until that gold means nothing.

After a few more minutes, he was led to a sitting room and was invited to sit. He eyed a plate of pastries on the center table and grimaced. Good for the taste buds, bad for everything else, he thought.

“Lady and Lord Temrit will be here shortly,” said the servant. He bowed and left the room.

The professor stood and walked around the room, wringing his hands and admiring the art that hung on the walls and the patterns in the large, stained-glass window that sent colors through the middle of the room.

This is true value.

The servant returned a few minutes later, followed by two finely dressed people, a man and a woman. “Lady and Lord Temrit.”

The professor gave a shallow bow. “A pleasure to serve you,” he said. Their fine clothing and perfect hair looked out of place next to their downturned eyes, marred by dark circles.

The man scoffed, crossing the room. “We need a solution to this mess now. Banishing this particular imp is something we can’t afford, but we’ll have to if this persists.”

Lady Temrit rubbed the charm of a necklace around her neck. It didn’t appear to be made of gold, but it shined brighter than any gold in the mansion.

“Very well. May I see the creature?”

Four muscled men entered the room, each holding a chain connected to a 5 foot tall imp, muscles bulging, with deep red eyes that contrasted starkly to its obsidian skin, stretched tight over its muscles, even torn in some places. It was covered in perfume - a not entirely effective means of covering its impish odor - and adorned with gold and diamond jewelry over most of its body, which didn’t stop the beast from growling and pulling at his chains.

The professor studied the creature. This isn’t good, he thought, but hid his concern behind an academic look. He found holes in various places around its body. “Even piercings haven’t worked?”

“The last expert we consulted recommended them,” said Lord Temrit. “It only helped for a couple of weeks.”

This one will be unstoppable.

“This is a particularly strong specimen,” said the professor. “But still, I’m surprised.”

“Is there anything you can do?” asked Lady Temrit.

The professor turned to her. “That necklace you’re wearing. Tell me about it.”

“Why?”

“It will help. Trust me.”

“It’s of no worth,” she said, looking at it longingly. “It’s been passed down in my family for generations. No one would pay very much for it. It’s not even made of gold.”

“Suppose someone were willing to buy it. How much would you sell it for?”

Lady Temrit stroked the necklace. “I wouldn’t. No amount of money would separate this from me.”

“Then to you, it is of great value, is it not?”

“Of course.”

The professor held out his hand. “May I?”

Hesitantly, she removed the necklace and handed it to the professor. He took it carefully in both hands and approached the imp. It started to fight its constraints even harder when the professor got close. He looked the imp straight in the eyes, inches from its face, and held its gaze. The perfume's attempt at covering the creature's stench did nothing for its breath. After a few moments of the intense eye contact, it relaxed for long enough for the professor to attach the necklace. Then he stepped away.

“Now, Lady Temrit, give it a command.”

She slowly approached the imp and looked down at it, lifting her chin. “Kneel,” she said, trying to hide the quiver in her voice behind an air of authority.

The creature’s knee smacked the marble, its head bowed.

“You shouldn’t have any problems from now on,” said the professor.

Lord Temrit pulled the professor to the edge of the room. “How is that possible? I thought only valuable items could bind an imp.”

“That is true, but the items don’t have to be monetarily valuable. Items of personal value work just as well, if not better.”

Lord Temrit squirmed. “Who else knows about this?”

“Only myself, you, and the Magistrates.”

“Let’s not spread this, then, Professor,” he said. “Let’s just say it could be bad for business.”

That’s exactly the issue. “Very well.” He turned to the others in the room. “Well, I had best be off. I have quite a bit of work to do.” The professor bowed and followed the servant back out.

“Professor Brafta!”

The professor stopped his stroll through the university gardens and turned to find one of his more advanced students approaching him. The professor greeted him with a smile once he got close.

“Trevon, good to see you.” He motioned forward and started walking. “Join me. And stand up straight,” he added.

The boy corrected his posture. “I’ve been studying some of your more obscure work, and I’ve encountered a topic that seems… odd.”

The professor raised an eyebrow. “And what is that?”

“Demons,” responded Trevon. The professor scowled. “Why don’t you talk much about them?”

The professor hesitated. “It’s quite complicated.”

“That didn’t stop you from figuring out how to summon and control the imps.”

“Demons are an entirely different creature,” he said. “While the summoning mechanics are similar, they are far more difficult to control.” And should many bindings fail, they’ll have an imp army already here.

The boy perked up. “So you have summoned some?”

The professor sighed. “Trevon, you are one of the most brilliant students I’ve ever had.” He stopped walking and looked Trevon in the eye. “But please, heed my warning; do not pursue this topic too far. Keep it theoretical.” He made his look more serious and got closer. “There is nothing in this world that is valuable enough to bind a demon indefinitely. If you try to summon one, it will kill you and everyone else.”

Trevon stared wide-eyed at the professor. He opened his mouth to speak, but said nothing. Satisfied that he had scared his student enough, the professor continued his garden stroll.

The professor walked down a dark hallway, summoning chambers on either side. Various shades of orange shown through the thick windows of the otherwise solid steel doors.

A spike of anxiety shot through the professor’s chest as his leg began to cramp. He stopped and massaged the tight spot, which started to burn unnaturally.

It’s not too bad, he thought as he stretched the muscle, worry swirling in his chest. As the cramping subsided, so too did the burning and the anxiety.

He continued down the hallway, and stopped to view a summoning. Students, accompanied by a professional, sat behind thick glass shields around a glowing glyph drawn on the ground. The geometry of the glyph was straightforward - only circles and squares. That’ll be a small one.

An orange mist rose from the center of the glyph. Two students holding golden chains moved around their glass shield and approached the mist as it formed into a humanoid shape.

One of the students shook as they got close. The professor smiled, recalling his first attempt.

The students placed the cuffs around the arms of the mist. Gradually, the mist solidified into a small, pathetic creature. At least that’s one less imp we’ll have to worry about.

A purple light began to glow from a window at the end of the hallway. His heart dropped to his stomach.

Trevon, you fool. He ran down the hallway. Inside was Trevon with a few of his classmates. Summoning a demon. The professor pulled out his master key and opened the door.

“Professor Brafta,” said Trevon. “I… this isn’t…” he stammered.

The professor ignored him and moved to the glyph. It was impressive. The layering of circles and polygons was perfect. Only the circles were glowing brightly. The triangle at the bottom was starting to glow.

The professor held out his hand. “Chalk,” he said. “And compass.”

The students complied immediately. The professor drew a perfect circle around the glyph.

“What are you doing?” asked Trevon. “That shouldn’t do anything.”

“You haven’t learned everything,” replied the professor, trying to maintain his composure. “Long straight edge.” Another student handed it to him. The professor slowly drew a line straight through the middle of the glyph. Then another, exactly perpendicular to the first. Slowly, the glowing subsided. Finally, the professor drew a square around the cross. The room became dark.

One of the students lit the room’s torch. Trevon sat in the corner, avoiding the professor’s gaze. The professor approached him.

“Explain,” he demanded.

“I knew it would work! I did the math. I have the best binders money can buy.” Trevon wrung his hands. The other students stood awkwardly in the corner.

“Money won’t work! I told you already. You can’t bind a demon indefinitely.”

“The math says I can,” said Trevon. “Your math. And besides, if it failed, I would have just banished it. I had the glyph ready.”

The professor glanced back at the glyph. Indeed, the banishing glyph was woven in expertly.

“That’s impressive,” said the professor, “but for one mistake.” He got close to Trevon. “You can’t banish a demon.”

After finishing a class, the professor left the lecture hall. He was stopped by a wealthy looking man who was accompanied by a bull-like imp with golden shackles, diamond studded piercings throughout its face and torso, and a fine, golden necklace with dozens of brilliantly polished gems.

“Professor,” said the man with an outstretched hand. “A pleasure to meet you.” There was something distinctly snake-like to the way the man spoke.

The professor reluctantly shook the man’s hand. “To whom do I owe the pleasure?”

“Who I am doesn’t matter,” he said coolly. “But we have important matters to discuss. Please, follow me.”

“I must say, I’m very interested in your work,” said the man as he led them down a hallway. He smirked conspiratorially. “It has made me very rich.”

“Then I fear you have entirely missed the point,” responded the professor, narrowing his eyes. “Surely you’re aware of the risks?”

The man stopped at the professor’s office, opened the door and strolled in, taking a seat behind the professor’s desk. “Of course I have. We have systems in place for assuring that the value of our bindings never drops too far.” He motioned to a teapot with steam rising from the spout and a couple of cups were set up on the desk.

“Please, help yourself,” said the man, gesturing to the tea set.

The professor sniffed the steam - ginger root. They went so far as to provide my favorite tea. That’s probably a bad sign. He poured himself a cup and sipped uneasily. Exactly how I like it.

“You’ve caused quite a stir,” began the stranger. “The rich are purchasing fewer and fewer Binders, despite Temrit’s best efforts.”

“And what of your efforts to prevent such a thing?” asked the professor.

“That is exactly the purpose of our conversation.” The stranger leaned back in the professor’s chair, putting his feet up on the desk. “We’d like you to redact anything you’ve said regarding the ‘unreliability of money based binding’. It’s quite bad for our business.”

“Who’s ‘we’?” asked the professor, raising an eyebrow. “The Magistrates?”

The Magistrate nodded.

The professor’s blood pressure spiked and he leapt to his feet. “Even I were to redact those warnings, they’d still be true - it won’t last!” He stopped, making an effort to calm down. Once his blood pressure dropped again, he sat down.

The magistrate picked up a paper with a summoning circle on it, nodding approvingly. “Professor,” he said, putting downt the paper, “you’re the man that wrote the book on binding. Surely you don’t doubt your own research.”

The professor gave him a serious look. “I don’t doubt it. I fear it.”

A tight pain seized the professor’s stomach and he fell to his knees. His eyes widened in fear. “What did you do?”

The stranger stood and walked around the desk. He dropped to a knee and pulled the professor’s face up to meet his gaze. “You’ve cost us a lot of money,” said the man with more animosity in his voice than before. “You need to know who you’re dealing with.”

A burning sensation spread through the professor’s body and he fell to his back. “You… don’t know… what… you’re… dealing with,” said the professor through pained gasps. The magistrate stood, shock evident on his face.

After a few more moments of struggling on the ground, the professor stopped breathing, his eyes staring blankly.

The magistrate kneeled to check the professor’s pulse. He pulled away as soon as he touched the professor’s burning skin. It began to glow a bright red. The magistrate stepped away from the body.

Purple mist began disseminating from the professor’s body. Poison isn’t supposed to do that. He took a few more steps back as the mist formed a humanoid shape.

The form gradually solidified into a tall, red-skinned creature with long white hair that fell smoothly behind its ears to the bottom of its neck.

Demon, he thought as he took several steps back.

The creature took a deep breath and opened its eyelids to reveal deep blue eyes. It turned to the magistrate.

“You look terrified,” it said smoothly. It motioned to the chair previously occupied by the professor. “Have a seat. I have no intention of killing you. You are the one that set me free, after all.”

The magistrate tried to speak, but no words came. His feet refused to move. Finally, he managed to say, “How…”

The demon chuckled. “It’s simple, really.” The demon took a few steps closer to the magistrate. “Do you know what the professor valued most?”

“I only just met him. I…” the magistrate stammered.

The demon took the chair and moved it closer to the magistrate, who shakily sat down.

“His health,” said the demon.

The magistrate’s eyes widened. “And I…”

The demon smiled, revealing perfectly straight, white teeth. “Yes! You ruined his health.” The creature took on a mischievous look.

The magistrate’s face paled. “It wasn’t supposed to kill him.”

“Oh, it didn’t,” said the demon. “I did, once his binding on me was sufficiently weak.”

“He said you couldn’t bind a demon. Not reliably.”

“Oh, you couldn’t.” It motioned to the lifeless body. “He could. But even then, only for a short time.” The creature sighed. “He knew this was coming, you know. He tried to warn you. And now I have an army.” The demon turned to the corner where the imp stood. “Come, let us free our enslaved brethren.”

The imp started to the door. “Don’t take orders from him!” shouted the magistrate. The imp stopped and growled, tugging on its bindings.

The demon inspected the jewelry that adorned the imp then turned back to the magistrate whose face had turned red. The demon pulled a dagger from a sheath at his side and held it to the magistrates neck. It burned his skin and he tasted blood.

“How much would you pay for me to spare you?” asked the demon.

“Anything,” gasped the grimacing magistrate.

The creature leaned in so that its mouth was an inch away from the magistrate’s ear. “I don’t want your money,” it said softly. “Or your gold. Or your jewels.” It chuckled. “They have no value to me.”

The magistrate’s face paled. The imp roared, then ripped off its golden shackles. Then the necklace. It ripped the piercings from its body, leaving bleeding wounds in their place. It slammed its huge fists into the ground and roared again.

The demon stood up. “Again, I thank you for setting me free.” It turned and headed out of the office. The imp approached the magistrate.

“Wait! You said you would spare me!” screamed the magistrate.

The demon stopped and turned. “I said I wouldn’t kill you, but I cannot speak for Throgof,” it said, gesturing to the huge imp. “I have a feeling he isn’t pleased with how you have treated him.”

The demon turned back around and strolled out of the office as the magistrate’s screams echoed down the hall.