Two men sat in a crowded pub, each looking over their shoulders every once in a while in case
any of the patrons of the smokey place were listening over their shoulders. What they were discussing was, while not forbidden,
dangerous. If it went wrong, it could mean the lives of the entire city.
"Are you sure about this Nai? If we do this... If we tamper in Fate's domain, there is no telling
what could happen to us. If we fail, Fate could do anything to us. And you know this." The other man said.
"I know, I know. But we know that there are other worlds out there. The gods are under Fate's
thumb. No one can change that. It's not likely that he will step down from his post, either. We don't know what happens
after death... but if we pull this off, we will know." Nai replied.
Both men looked uneasy. Especially Nai. He seemed unsettled. Of course, with what they were planning,
anyone would feel the same. With a nod, mostly to reassure themselves than each other, they paid the bartender of the Drunken
Ass. They both walked in lockstep out of Epic City into the fields several miles south and slightly to the west. Each had
materials that they thought would be needed to cast this spell. Once they stopped and set down their materials, they both
began the preperation.
The other man took his staff in hand and drew a circle in the ground exactly twenty five feet
across. Within the circle he drew a pentacle. In the air, with a finger, he drew special runes to make sure that the lines
were exact; that the circle was perfectly shaped, that every line of the pentacle was straight and that every angle was equivalent
of the others. Any mistakes in such a thing would mean disaster for Nai.
Meanwhile, Nai was rumaging through his own pack for the items he required. The Ranger pulled
out a bottle of water, an earthenware bowl, a holly branch, and a trussed up animal. He pet the small mink to calm it. No
one would die this day. Inside the northern point went the mink. South east was water with fire to it's left. East north east
recieved the earthenware bowl filled with water. The earth itself would fill west north west. Nai nodded grimly. All of the
elements of the world were there. From within the pack came his sword which was planted firmly within the center of the pentacle.
Both the Cleric and his friend took up quills and began to inscribe ancient runes into the spaces within the circle, but outside
the pentacles.
Many hours of work followed, with much cursing as they copied runes and words into the positioned
they belonged. As midnight approached, the hour of witching and wizardry, they were done. The mage snapped and the magical
array, along with the runes, were turned to stone. Everything was set. Nai hefted his bag and stepped into the center of the
array, taking hold of his sword. A sigh of regret exited his lungs as he looked towards a forest, the home of the Rangers.
Amaranth would not see him leave... But if he didn't die, his bondmate would not either. He smiled grimly at that. Indeed...
Another nod passed between the two. The Mage on the outside, the Ranger/Cleric within. They both
began to chant the archaic words they had found within an ancient tomb. Each word shimmered into existance before them then
took it's place in the air. As more words were named and took their place, it would seem that a dome was surrounding the Avenger,
the edges of the semi-sphere on the edges of the stone circle. Tense moments passed, both began to sweat. The air smelled
of ozone with all the magic arround. The dome was almost complete, with only three words left to go.
Clouds amassed overhead as distant bells tolled midnight. It was the final word. But it had to
be timed... The dome would remain until the final word was said. But before midnight the spell would recieve too much power
of the sun, instantly incinerating the one within. After midnight it would recieve the power of the moon, and Nai would be
flash-frozen within a second. No... it had to be upon the cusp of the night, when darkness reigned absolute and neither sun
nor moon held sway over the land.
The last bell tolled like the hum of the guillotine's blade flying down to cleave the head off
of the victim below. Quickly, almost too fast to be safe, both men chanted the final word. "Ondores."
Tension increased to a peak, the ozone was too sharp for either man to bear. Then a flash of
light that knocked the Mage down. The lightning strike blew him teen feet away from the dome. When he looked back to the spot
Nai was before, a horrifying sight was before him. The stone circle was cracked into innumerable pieces. Though the mink was
okay, the other elements were incinerated. Nothing remained of Nai, nor his sword. Nor the pack that he had on when lightning
struck.
A silver-haired cat rushed through the tall grass to where the Mage was. It looked at the rubble
where Nai once stood. Bondmates rarely speak to any but the Rangers they share their life with. But Amaranth spoke to the
Mage, his mind's voice filled with grief.
~He's... He's gone, isn't he?~
"I'm afraid so."
~Will he ever return?~
"I'm sorry Amaranth... I'm afraid we'll never know."
