“Okay, so… attempt thirteen was… a dud…”
*WHUMP!*
Exhausted and defeated, Aria Lusherina allowed gravity to deliver her face-down onto her bed. The wooden frame groaned even louder than its owner did, having suffered from no less than eight frustrated flops over the course of the day. The sheets that adorned it, which had been freshly washed just the day before, now reeked of smoke, sulfur, metal, and a myriad of miscellaneous magical reagents. It was that putrid combination alone that gave the young witch the energy to flip onto her back.
Ink, ash, and melted mascara peppered the young woman’s soft, slightly tanned skin. Her short and normally well-brushed teal hair was frayed and sooty. Light rips and multicolored splotches permeated the simple black and gray pajamas that adorned her slightly curved figure. Even her dark blue witch’s hat - her pride and joy - had suffered some scratches and stains from her repeated failures. The only things that remained undamaged were two blue pentagonal crystals which were emblazoned on the side of her hat and hanging from her light blue choker.
Aria lifted herself up slightly, just enough to remove the hat and set it on her stomach. The shimmering blue gem flashed at her, almost taunting her with its mystical gleam. This stone was the symbol of the Lusherina family, a small line of wizards and witches who had long been masters of summoning rituals. Their progenitor had become a legend for summoning a demon and binding it to her service by sealing it within her own body. It was a feat of magic that had never before been successfully attempted, and never replicated since.
“And here I am, unable to summon even a basic Familiar. What a joke!”
Rubbing her eyes clear of lingering magical sediment, Aria set the hat to her side and slowly glanced around her dimly-lit room. It was a decently-sized room, though with all of the clutter you would be forgiven for thinking that it was much, much smaller. Bookshelves lined the leftmost wall, each filled with various notebooks, sketchbooks, spellbooks, and glass-sealed spell components. Side-by-side at the far end of the room were two desks: a wooden one, upon which was an open laptop, a small desk microphone, a stack of texts focused on summoning rituals, and empty containers of cookies and pretzels; and a glass one, upon which were the scraps and shavings of metals, stones, and animal hairs. To her right was an old wooden dresser and a matching vanity, which were joined by a smaller bookshelf that was bursting with various plushies and stuffed animals. A long plastic partition ran in front of everything but her bed - a small but necessary precaution to mitigate the damage from a failed ritual. A dedicated summoning room would have been preferable, but renting one was expensive and her small apartment lacked enough space or privacy to actually set one up in any other room. With all of her disposable income being relegated to the materials involved in her failed attempts, this scuffed setup was her only real option.
A strained grunt filled the room as the young witch ripped herself off of her bed and walked around the partition to the bookshelf with the stuffed animals. She plucked a pale green goblin plush of her own design out of the cluster and returned to her bed. Sitting cross-legged on the edge of the mattress, she held the plush in her lap and traced the red trim of the black cloak she’d sewn for it.
“What do I do, Chester? At this point, success is just giving me the big middle finger, and I’m pretty sure I only have enough materials left to make one more attempt.”
The plush just stared back at her with an encouraging smile.
“Thanks Chester,” she pouted as she hugged the toy, “ but I’ve tried just about everything at this point! Nightingale feathers to get a familiar that sings, dog fur and cat hairs for one that’s just cute, every combination of catalyst materials that should work, but all of these books suck and I’m SICK OF READING THEM!” Finally at her breaking point, Aria tossed Chester, grabbed her pillow, and screamed into it.
After a solid ten-second screaming session, the witch tossed the pillow across the room. It soared with olympic grace over the partition and onto the wooden desk, closing the laptop and knocking over the microphone with a perfect, bounceless landing. 10s from all of the judges!
“And the crowd goes- oh, damnit…”
Aria rose to her feet once more to recover her pillow and fix her desk. She held her breath as she gently stepped around her ritual setup: a laminated wood board inscribed with a chalk pentagram and various constellations (her altar), surrounded by thick ritual candles whose flames continued to flicker gently in the darkness. In its center, amidst the dusted remains of various materials, was a small black choker with a gemstone that matched her own. Once she was clear, she exhaled and regained a normal pace.
Face hit plastic with a satisfying ‘whap!’ Aria had taken so much care to not disturb the setup while crossing the room that she completely forgot about the clear partition that had been set up to insulate it.The impact caused the plastic shield to wobble and shimmer. Aria blinked in surprise as she stepped back and recognized her error. She stood there for a moment, watching the flickering of the candlelight against the quivering plastic. The way the reverberations bounced that light around the room was entrancing, so much so that Aria momentarily forgot her embarrassment amidst the flashy display. Suddenly, her eyes went wide. Stumbling around the ritual circle, she whipped around to the other side of the partition and dashed to her desk. Rather than reclaim the pillow, however, her hands shot to the floor to grab the microphone. The thick condenser mic rattled in her right palm as her left threw open the desk drawer, snatched a flashlight, and slammed the drawer closed.
By the time the ringing of the slammed drawer faded away, Aria had already finished her alterations to her summoning circle. The dust and soot from her previous attempts had been wiped clean, and a fresh mix of reagents lay within the chalk pentagram. In the center of the reagents was the desk microphone, perfectly poised and ready to record despite being unplugged. Newly lit candles danced with anticipation. However, they were no longer the only lights that were part of the ceremony; a lone flashlight sat on the bed, held in place by a cute smiling goblin friend. Its ray bounced wildly off of the plastic partition. Aria grinned proudly at the sight as she took a seat in front of the pentagram. She paused for just a brief moment to glance under the bed and ensure that her fire extinguisher was still there, just in case she needed it again. After all, despite being excited about her own ingenuity, magic was very fickle. Even if it did work this time, there was always a chance that success would be more… explosive than she’d like.
But she had taken that risk thirteen times already and failed. If that was the price of a success on the fourteenth attempt, then so be it.
With a wave of her hand, Aria conjured a small gust of air and aimed it at the furthest area of the partition, where the flashlight’s glow was dispersing across the plastic. The tiny gale caused the plastic to wobble once more, bouncing the ray around like a spotlight in every conceivable direction.
“This was definitely the right call! If you want to summon an entertainer, you have to set the stage! Now then…”
The grin receded from the witch’s face as she closed her eyes and stretched out her arms. A soft white stream of energy seeped out from her choker pendant, crept down her arms and gathered in her palms. In response, a matching white light slowly etched itself into the air above the chalk pentagram. Moments later, a glowing white pentagram was floating above the altar. Even without opening her eyes, Aria could feel the completion of the circle. She took a deep breath to steel herself before turning her palms upwards and chanting:
“Oh spirit from another world: by this spell, I call upon you. By this offering, I connect to you. By this circle, I grant you passage. By this pendant, I bind you.”
The stones on both Aria’s pendant and the matching pendant on the altar lit up with a lovely teal. In response, both the circle and the energy emanating from Aria’s hand shifted to match their hue. The chant was nearly complete, and once the final line was spoken, a familiar would - in theory - be summoned. Traditionally, that line would either involve the species of animal that the summoner wished their familiar to be, or the name of the specific creature they hoped to call upon. But Aria’s flash of inspiration led her to finish with a different, more fitting line:
“Now… take the stage!”
By all means, such an abnormal chant shouldn’t have worked. It gave the spell no real direction in terms of a creature to actually call and bind. And yet, as the line left Aria’s lips, the floating pentagram began to spin and expand. By the time it stretched to reach Aria’s hands, it was rotating so quickly that the individual lines could no longer be made out. The room was engulfed in a brilliant blue radiance. The walls, the floor, the ceiling, the bookshelves and the bed, even the altar from which the circle first arose all seemed to vanish amidst its all-encompassing power. The only things remaining in the beautiful blue void were Aria, the glowing circle, the black choker, and the white constellations on the altar that pierced defiantly through the swirling magic. One by one, those constellations lifted themselves off of the board and arranged themselves across the void, shining like real stars across an azure galaxy.
Tears began to form in the young witch’s eyes. It was working! After thirteen painful failed attempts, she was finally going to summon her very own familiar! Her mind began to wander to thoughts of what exactly would end up being summoned. After all, a microphone was anything but normal as far as spell components went, and her chant had been incredibly unspecific. Would it be an animal, like she originally planned? Or perhaps a fairy, or sprite, or some other fae creature? How powerful would it end up being? Could she possibly even summon a demon, like her ancestor? Could she profit off of that if it happened?
Her internal questioning would have easily continued had the light of the void not suddenly begun to flicker and rapidly shift hue. Aria jumped to her feet. Her eyes darted around to the various constellations - her only available points of reference - as the world around her began shifting from the light blue of her pendant to an emerald green. Even the once pure white constellations had changed to match the new color, shining just brilliant enough to be made out against the chromatic void.
From emerald it faded into a solar orange, and again to a blazing red, and once more to an oaken brown, before settling on a deep purple. All the while, the witch could only look on in awe and confusion. The summoning texts had told her that the light from the ritual should match whatever was used as a focus, which in this case should have been the pendant on her choker. She couldn’t even squint her eyes and pretend that it was the same color.
Do… do I stop? Do I stop right in the middle of my best attempt so far?
She shook her head as she considered what she’d just asked herself. This was the furthest she’d managed to get without something breaking the spell. It was far beyond expectation, but the ritual was still going. Whatever she had done, it was working.
Hesitation gave way to determination as she resolved to finish the spell. With another deep breath, she raised her hands to the sky. Though the world around her remained bathed in a sea of lavender, her hands continued to channel a radiant teal.
“HYAAH!”
Two glowing teal arcs sliced through the void as Aria swung her hands towards the ground. The spinning circle rushed to the invisible floor as if she had grabbed it and slammed it down. Its rapid rotations ceased the instant it made contact, aligning itself perfectly with the chalk circle below it. The void darkened. Lavender whisps or magic, like a mix of flames and bubbles, rose from the circle and dissipated into the aether. At first they rose slowly and meekly like embers, but soon they erupted into a purple inferno. The flames grew brighter, brighter, and brighter still, until finally…
“WHOOOOOOOOOSHTIAAANG!”
Aria covered her eyes as light exploded out from the circle with a gust of air and a metallic twang, like a fist of air striking a bell. The flash and noise blew away the void and the stars, returning the young witch to her cluttered sleeping quarters. She slowly opened her eyes and squinted in an attempt to see through the fading light. Even with her restricted vision, though, she could clearly make out a figure within the circle. Her heart nearly jumped for joy right out of her throat.
I did it! I finally did it! My own familiar! What animal is it? What can it do? What color is it? It has to be purple, right? Everything else was purple, so that would make sense. Could it-”
“Well now, I don’t recall that trip being quite so bright and bumpy…”
Excuse me? Elation quickly turned to confusion. The voice that Aria heard was soft and light and clearly male… but it was also unmistakably in the room, not in her head. As far as she knew, familiars communicated with their summoners telepathically, not vocally. Whatever she had summoned, it certainly wasn’t a cute animal. Not a normal one, at least.
Aria opened her eyes fully, light be damned. Thankfully, the flash had subsided enough that she was able to make out who she had summoned. Before her stood a young man with a soft complexion and fluffy crimson hair. A pale purple long coat with deep purple and gold accents draped over his clean white dress shirt and silken dark purple pants. His most striking features, however, were an almost tacky purple fedora with a gold flower and blue feathers… and the black choker with the pentagonal pendant that once sat upon the altar.
Shocked, she stumbled backwards and fell onto her bed. There’s no way, she thought. A human… a human can’t be a familiar! The color of the spell matched his outfit perfectly, though, and her choker - which was designed to serve as the symbol of the bond between summoner and familiar - was hanging around his neck.
For a moment, she considered that perhaps it was just a coincidence, and that this man just happened to own a similar pendant. But as he reached his hand up and touched the stone in confusion, she knew that that wasn’t the case. Which only meant one thing…
“Y-y-y-you’re my familiar!?”
“Ah… I’m you’re what, now?”
Aria flopped back down onto the bed in disbelief. It was one thing to fail entirely, but this… she didn’t even know what to call this. She had succeeded in summoning, but she hadn’t summoned what she was intending to summon. Although, she hadn’t really had a target in mind on this attempt; she had focused more on a skillset, or a personality.
“Excuse me, miss?”
Aria snapped to attention. The young man was taking stock of the room, though he had yet to move from the spot he’d appeared in. He turned to face the confused witch with a sparkling smile.
“I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help but notice that this isn’t the Ardent Dragon, and I am due for a performance tonight. I certainly don’t mind giving… private performances,” he winked playfully, “but I’m afraid I’ll have to regale you another night. In the meantime, would you mind sending me back?”
Aria’s face contorted with disgust. “Private perfor- who do you think you are!?”
The man blinked in surprise. “Oh, ah, my apologies.” With a practiced flick of the arm, he whipped his hat off of his head and transitioned cleanly into a sweeping bow.
“My name is Altair Amaryllis, the Bard of the East and the Storymaster of Sylvast. I would be humbled if you’ve heard my name, and honored if you would remember it.”
Aria's head slowly tilted to the side as she processed what this man was trying to tell her. After a few moments, she managed to squeak out, “Holy crap you’re actually from another plane.”
“Another…?” Altair rose from his bow and looked down at the altar he was standing on. The candles had gone out and the constellations had returned to the board, but the general setup was unmistakable to him.
“Ah, I see, you were trying to summon something. A familiar, by the looks of the components.” He put his fist to his cheek as he recalled the moments before his arrival. “I was being teleported to the venue for my next show just a moment ago. If I had to guess, I’d say that your spell somehow intercepted the teleportation spell and brought me here by mistake.”
“That’s a thing!?” Teleportation - major teleportation, not just a summoning - was something that Aria had only ever read about, and it was far beyond both her level and her budget to attempt.
The man shrugged. “Mayhaps. I know a bit of magic myself, but not enough to be able to say so definitively. That being said, if this was truly an accident, I’m assuming that you have no idea how to send me back.”
Aria nodded slowly, unsure whether she should be smiling with pride or blushing with shame. She had once again failed to summon her familiar, but she had summoned something - or someone - and interfering with a teleportation spell couldn’t have been a small feat. At the same time, though, she had basically kidnapped someone as a result, and she had no idea how or when she was going to be able to send him back. And to make matters worse…
“So, uh, would it at least be possible to take this thing off?”
Altair was attempting to unclasp the choker, but for some reason it refused to budge. The soft leather refused to give way, even when pulled, nor could it be stretched far enough to slide around his head. After a few attempts at extracting the unwanted accessory from his person, Altair huffed and turned back to Aria.
“I understand if you can’t send me back, but could you at least take this off of me? I’d hate to be forced to leave with it on.”
“Where would you even go?”
“I suppose that I would find myself a ship or carriage that could return me to Sylvast, at the very least. Wherever we are, the currency should be similar enough to-”
The bard paused and patted his clothes in various places before groaning. “And it seems my wallet is no longer with me, either. I… suppose I’ll have to find someplace looking for an entertainer, then.”
“...can you sing?”
“A bit, I suppose, though I am more of a storyteller than anything else. Perhaps I’m close to a place I’m familiar with. Where exactly are we again?”
“Oh, we’re… uh…” Aria began to sweat as the fear of her own answer set in. She obviously knew where she was: the small city of Macrest, in the country of Aeolus. But she had been attempting to summon a familiar from an adjacent plane. She knew that there was a chance that she had simply interrupted a teleportation spell on her own plane, but there was also a chance that she had interrupted a teleportation spell on another plane entirely. If that were the case…
“We’re in Macrest. In Aeolus…?”
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Altair folded his arms and closed his eyes. Macrest… Aeolus… where have I heard those names before? He racked his brain for few moments before gently opening his eyes and reciting:
“And so the demon was made manifest. The soldiers of all three armies froze in terror as the subject of their fears loomed over them. Their blood turned to ice as he looked down upon them, and their breathing stopped dead as he addressed them. But his words carried no malice, no bloodlust, no evil. Indeed, he spoke with a solemnity and serenity that could have swayed the heart of even the most devout angel. At his behest, arms were laid down at the feet of his vessel and its guardians. The soldiers sat as their generals came forth. And so it was, at the request of the very demon whom the three nations had sealed so long ago, that peace was forged in the land of Aeolus. That the winds of the god for which it was named would forever be at the backs of all who would strive for unity, and that it would be a place where even a demon could come to appreciate the value and beauty of life.”
Aria was enthralled. It was, indeed, a retelling of the end of the War for the New World, a battle that took place centuries prior. It was a piece of history that she always found fascinating, in no small part due to the fact that her ancestor - the demon summoner - was the vessel described in the tale. Nevertheless, she was awestruck by the retelling, simplified though it was. Altair’s moniker clearly hadn’t just been for show. She gave him a small applause, a relieved smile growing across her face. After all, he knew a story from her country’s history. Surely, she thought, he must have at least lived somewhere in this world.
“Thank you, thank you,” he bowed. “That was an excerpt from…” The bard paused before throwing his head back in frustration. Aria’s applause stopped dead. The sweat started to reform on her brow.
“What’s wrong?”
“That was an excerpt from Tales from Worlds Unknown - An Interplanar Compilation,” he groaned. “A collection of stories from interplanar traveler and oracle Celeste Olivine.” A sad, twitchy smile formed on the corner of his lips. “It looks like you really did pull me to another plane. Guess I’m stuck here for a bit, huh?”
Blankly, wordlessly, soundlessly, Aria fell back onto her bed and died.
_ _ _
The tantalizing scent of roasted meat, sauce, and boiled vegetables awoke Aria from her deathlike slumber. Her head pounded and her throat screamed for water as she rolled herself onto the floor and lumbered over to the kitchenette. Screeching filled the apartment as she gracelessly dragged a barstool out from under the counter that was attached to the kitchenette and crawled onto it. As if on cue, a bowl of piping hot stew slid in front of her. A fork, knife, napkin, and a glass of water followed closely behind. The blazing heat and unreal flavor breathed life into her dead eyes as she took her first bite and nearly squealed with satisfaction. With each additional bite she could feel the vigor return to her body - and could feel it leave almost as quickly when she realized who had served her the meal.
Altair looked at her expectantly with a ladle in hand and one of her aprons overtop of his coat. The sight of the bard caused the witch to nearly choke on her stew. She threw the glass to her lips and began chugging to clear her throat.
“Are you alright?”
Aria’s head whipped around to glare at Altair.
“What are you doing in my kitchen!?” she gasped.
“Cooking, obviously.”
“Don’t be a smartass, why are you still here?”
Altair tapped the pendant around his neck. “As it so happens, your spell didn’t just intercept my teleportation. It seems like it also partially bound me to you. In other words, I’m currently something akin to a familiar for you.”
“Wait, so… you mean it worked!?”
“Well, somewhat. It’s true that I’m magically bound to you, and it’s also true that I can act as a conduit for your magic. However, while I have a compulsion to stay within a certain distance of you, I doubt you can un-summon me or hide me, and while I can still sense magic, it seems as though my own spells are sealed as long as I’m wearing this pendant.”
“So what you’re saying is, you can’t leave and I can’t send you back, and the easiest solution - that being your own magic - isn’t available now?”
“That about sums it up, yes. Oh, and it seems I have access to some of your knowledge, too. I must say, this is a MUCH more convenient way of cooking and storing food! It’s almost worth sticking around for the convenience alone!” he chuckled.
“You are way too calm about this,” Aria responded dryly before resuming her meal. While she ate and Altair cleaned up, she considered her options.
I can try to reverse the ritual, but I’m all out of components. I could talk to mom and dad, but then I’d have to explain what I did and I’d never hear the end of it from them. And even if they could help, I’d still need to buy new materials to attempt to undo all of this.
The light clinking of metal on ceramic told her that her bowl was now empty. She placed her utensils in the bowl for Altair to take away and returned to her thoughts.
A specialist could probably break the bond and another could send him back, but that would probably also be really expensive…
Aria folded her arms and huffed. “It’s the same as when I started. Everything’s a money problem.
“What’s that?” Altair asked, muffled by the sound of running water. He was washing the dishes now. Aria couldn’t decide whether to be happy that he was helping, or annoyed that he was taking this so much better than she was. She decided to simply let it be for now.
“I’m trying to figure out what to do, but every option available to me is almost definitely expensive. And I don’t have expensive right now. Especially since now I’ll have to factor you into food and utilities.”
“A lot of your money must have gone into all of those components, huh?”
“Yeahhhh,” Aria groaned and sank into the counter. “I’m not very good at this yet.”
“Really? You don’t say?” he teased. He was met with an exhausted glare from his summoner.
“You know, considering you’re stuck here on my budget, you could stand to be a bit more serious about this.”
Altair placed a finger against the corner of his mouth in mock consideration. “I could, I could. But really, it’s far more entertaining to tease you! And besides,” he shrugged, “you brought this upon yourself.”
Aria blinked. “Wait, say that part again.”
“Uh… it’s far more entertaining to tease you?”
“No, the other- wait, no, yes, that one, that’s the one there.”
“You maybe want to learn how to use your words properly?” he chuckled.
“Oh my god shut up,” the witch laughed as she facepalmed herself. In all of the excitement she’d forgotten one of the main reasons why she’d been attempting to summon a familiar in the first place. Getting sucked into Altair’s rhythm was not helping, but it did make her even more confident about her idea. “Just come with me for a second.” And with that, she hopped over to her bedroom.
“But I haven’t had my bowl yet!”
“We have a microwave!” she shouted from the room.
“Oh yeah, that is a thing that you have. Excellent.” Satisfied with just reheating his meal, Altair removed the apron and followed Aria. She had wasted no time going around the partition and making her way over to the wooden desk. By the time that Altair had walked through the door frame, she had it open and powered on.
“Ah, right, the computer. Such an interesting device.”
“It’s not just interesting,” Aria turned to the bard and grinned. “It’s the solution to our money problem!”
“I fail to understand how that relates to what I said earlier.”
“Entertaining! Come on, you’re a bard, you make a living off of entertaining, right?”
“Among other things, yes. But, what of it? You want me to entertain through the computer?”
“Yes!”
Altair tilted his head, but Aria didn’t even bother waiting for him to ask for clarification.
“You and I are going to livestream!”
“Live Streaming… that’s people playing games online for a virtual audience, right?”
“That’s the one!”
“Well, that’s not really my realm of expertise, as you could imagine-”
“Oh come on, you’re a stories guy, and games have plenty of stories! And we could do a whole lot else, too! Besides, this is kind of why I summoned you in the first place.”
Altair’s eyes narrowed. “I thought that it was an accident.”
“It was, it was. I really was trying to summon a regular familiar, but, well…” she looked over at the microphone that was still sitting on the altar. “...I was trying to summon one that could be a sort of co-host for me. A familiar that could either entertain on its own, or just be really cute and entice audiences.”
“That seems like a misuse of a familiar.”
“Yeah, well, magic isn’t cheap and I’m on a budget. I figured that this would be a good way to make a little extra money to fund books and magic materials. And, you know, other fun stuff.” Aria turned her chair so she could face Altair completely. “Look, I want to help you. It IS my fault that you’re here, after all, so I’ll do what I can. But if you want to make it quicker and easier, maybe you could help me out with this? At least until we can get you un-bound?”
Every instinct told the bard to pretend to consider the offer and mess with her about it; just a little bit of playful teasing, some drawn out “I don’t know”s, a pouty glance or two - but looking at the young witch’s face, he could tell that she was both entirely sincere and genuinely remorseful over having trapped him in her world. And he knew that she was right: his best shot at getting home would be to help her out with this endeavor. After all, with no reputation and a very small catalog of relevant stories, and her own work, Altair couldn’t very well try dragging his summoner to every bar, inn, and pub in an attempt to earn some coin. So instead, he simply smiled and reached his hand out.
“Alright then. It’ll be a pleasure working with you, Aria.”
The witch grinned. It may not have been the way that she’d intended to do it, but she couldn’t deny her excitement. A semi-successful ritual, and plan for her next move, and a new companion - it had certainly been a busy day, but at least she had direction and some fresh confidence. With a firm grip, she shook the bard’s outstretched hand.
“Pleasure working with you, Altair!”
The two shared a brief smile before Aria pulled her hand away and walked over to the altar - narrowly stopping herself before hitting the partition again. She bent down and plucked the mic from the altar and inspected it carefully.
“Guess I’ll have to make sure this guy still works. And we’ll definitely have to figure out a setup for the two of us. But first…”
She rose and turned to Altair with sparkles in her eyes. He was caught off-guard by how quickly she wrapped back around the partition, set the mic down, took his hand, and began dragging him out of the room.
“...first, we’re gonna have to learn you some games!”
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