Kymalin stood at the center of her room, her hands extended in the air. She felt silly, holding her arms out like this. The tome she pilfered out of the library lay open at her feet, her eyes going over the letters in quick review.

"Okay," she breathed. "Here we go."

Outside the arched windows of her room lay the vast silhouettes of various mountain peaks dwarfed by the height the Temple of Souls was carved in. A thick layer of fog coated the horizon, almost making the dark sky and the moons' rays look fainter.

She turned her attention back to the room. Aside from the curtains drawn over the windows, fluttering in the stray breezes blowing from the mountains outside, there wasn't anything that could hide whatever she was doing inside. Thank the gods for the thick wall opposite the windows, framing the corridor outside. If all goes wrong, at least the people inside the Temple wouldn't see her.

She blinked and blew a breath. She was really doing it. She looked down at the tome, trying to memorize the rysteme incantation written on the parchment. The words weren't anything she couldn't pronounce and it's not necessary to understand what the lines meant. So long as they get the job done.

Her dark blue hair swung against her cheeks as she moved to face the blank wall. Unlike other people who get to stay inside the Temple and have their own room, Kymalin didn't feel the need to decorate said wall with tapestries or murals simply because she couldn't be bothered to go down the Temple's numerous flights of stairs and into Niklar Sylra, Drodham's artistry district. She gritted her teeth, noting how dry her mouth was, and launched into the ritual.

Stand in a land purified by priests. Check. This was the Temple. It's the holiest place in Umazure to do a summoning. Make sure mind and body were ready. Check. It wasn't like she was thinking of something stressful at the moment. She flicked her gaze at the small vase of xamine flowers beside the tome. Check that too. The faint smell of corpses assaulted her nose. It's going to take a whole while before the smell of decay scrubs off her things. Oh, damn, she's going to sleep in a bed that smelled like the dead? Why hadn't she thought this through?

She stepped backward, giving the string of bells tied around her ankle a shake. Paneldoja. Check. What's next? Oh, the disc thing. She crouched, her fingers closing around the brass disc along with a small mallet she "borrowed" from the inventory. Holding it above her head, she pounded the mallet against the disc. Three times. A stringent ringing sound reverberated in the air. Nothing happened apart from a slight shifting in the wind, making the curtains behind her flap. Oookay. Not weird at all.

Then, she took a deep breath and called for her magic. At this point, the tome talked something about the particles in the air, but Kymalin wouldn't hear it. Going with her gut, she searched for a vulnerable spot in the field of magic burning along with the warmth underneath her skin. Once she saw it, she struck it.

A sound resembling fabric ripping rang inside the room. The air dropped several notches colder. It actually sent a shiver down Kymalin's room. Okay. That should be the gate opening. Wow. That's easier than what the tome presented it to be. What's next?

Project images of the spirit she wanted to summon. A healer. Kymalin closed her eyes, letting the ice-cold wind stir her locks around her head and kiss her skin dry. A healer. So that meant...vials. Plants. Pounding. Gathering. Farming. Forests. Animals. Fur. Graspel. No, wait. Not those pesky creatures. One would need a sword to deal with it. Her eyelids fluttered open. No, not swords. Why would she think about swords? It's not—

A sharp feeling dug into her neck. Kymalin gasped. The thread. What did the tome say next? Wrile. Ring the wrile. Well, she had already failed the ritual a number of times. Might as well go through with it. With the mallet, she rang the wrile thrice. Then, the sharp feeling turned sharper, like there was a thread tied around her neck and it was being pulled taut. Would it snap? If she lost her concentration, maybe.

As the thread bucked and squirmed, driving more sharpness prickling in Kymalin's throat until she could equate it to pain, she opened her mouth, looked past the knee-length tunic flapping around her legs and into the tome, and recited the spell.

Magic burned in the air with every word she said, combatting the cold wind wafting from the open gate. In the real world, there was nothing happening. She was still facing a blank wall with her hands in front of her like a sleepwalking fairy. But in her vision, a huge, swirling crevice opened up in the space in front of her. That must be the gate.

As soon as the last words of the spell left her lips, the thread around her neck loosened. She was about to breathe a sigh of relief when the wind wooshed towards her faster than she could anticipate. Something substancial came rushing past the gate. Oh, no.

Kymalin stumbled back, throwing her hands over her head. She was ready to scream at the spirit to not hurt her or drag her to the Land of Wonders. Seconds passed. Nothing but silence. What's going on?

"Someone called for me?" a faint but distinct voice echoed in the room. Kymalin lowered her arms and wrenched the eyes she hadn't realized she had shut. Her gaze landed on a man clad in leather armor looking around the room in a daze. "This isn't Jatoma."

Jatoma? What in Umazure was that? Kymalin cleared her throat. She couldn't get over the fact that the man's skin had a greenish tinge to it and that she could see through his calves. That...that's freaky. She massaged her throat, grateful that it was still there. "H-hello," she said, giving the spirit a small wave. How does one call off a summoning again?

Kymalin glanced at the tome at her feet when her mind blanked. Oh, no. She's doomed, wasn't she?

"Are you the one who called for me?" the man asked. Standing a few distances from Kymalin, it was hard to tell what race he was. He could be any of the fairy sub-races or a human. Even a half-blood was possible. "How can I be of service?"

Were all spirits meek like this guy? Kymalin sure hoped so. She pushed herself up, dusting her hands in an attempt to still the shaking. "Hi," she said. "I'm the one who called. How are you?"

A flicker of confusion flashed across the spirit's face. "Nobody asked me that in a long while," he said. "How long has it been?"

Kymalin blinked. "Sorry?"

"The...the last thing I remember was my crew and I leaving for a mission in Dwanzeig," the spirit scratched his chin, taking another one look around Kymalin's room. "Then, I was here. What happened?"

She clasped her hands together. "Uh..." she bit her lip. It's the most basic principle in dealing with spirits. One must never tell them they've died. One shouldn't also try to guess how a spirit died since spirits were perceptive of those thoughts.

"I didn't call you here for that," she amended. "I have a question that requires your assistance in answering."

The spirit didn't look convinced. "I will hear it," he said, finally. "What is it?"

Kymalin crossed her arms. "Do you, perhaps, know about something that could help cure rare illnesses?" she asked.

The spirit looked like he wanted to laugh out loud but was holding it in. "I'm a soldier, shining lady," he said. Kymalin winced. What in Rudik's ass was a shining lady? That's the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard. "Perhaps I can ask my friend Carden. He's the one who dipped his toes on these types of things."

Kymalin knitted her eyebrows. Should she risk another summoning to call forth this Carden? She had a name now. The tome said it was possible to call a spirit with just a name. But then again, there were a million Cardens who had lived in Umazure since it existed. Which one of those? Besides, rysteme spells needed time to cool off before they could be used again.

No. She's got to stick it with this one.

"Well, what do you know?" Kymalin tilted her head to one side. "How would you treat a rare illness when even the healers didn't know how to treat?"

The spirit frowned and tapped his chin. "I would go to those organizations who promises to fulfill wishes," he said. "I heard they work."

She narrowed her eyes. "What organizations?"

"Oh, you know, those shady balck market deals," the spirit rolled his shoulders, the green tinge of his skin making him look like transparent jelly. "I heard of these organizations, Synketros and the other one...uh, Cardovia. Their people go around, hearing strangers' wishes, and promises to fulfill it. For a price, of course."

Well...that's new. Kymalin tapped a finger on her elbow as she shifted her weight from foot to foot. "What kind of payment are they asking for?"

The spirit looked to the ceiling in thought. "According to various rumors, they are known to extort services and uh...resources? Some gave away their entire inheritance. Some vanished for a long time only to be spotted in the shadows, doing all kinds of things."

"Can you be more specific?" she asked.

"Closing deals. Getting renegade sympathy. Securing goods and more soldiers," the spirit replied. "I was beginning to think these organizations were building armies of their own but, eh, that's impossible in this day and age, ain't it? I mean, the war just finished."

Kymalin's ears prickled. "What war?"

"I don't know what underground cavern you have been living in considering this beautiful house you've got," the spirit looked around him again to prove his point. "But the big war between humans and fairies just ended. I was once drafted in Jatoma. Got released from duty after the war."

She nodded like she cared about that little story. "So these organizations," she said. "Can they really make wishes come true?"

The spirit pouted. "Just from the rumors, I guess they really do follow up," he said. "I heard this one farmer enter into a deal with Synketros in exchange for power and wealth. The next thing we know, he was part of the vast Duchy in Jatoma."

Kymalin's mind ran over the terms the spirit was letting slip. Duchy. A position of power and a jurisdiction in...uh, Cardina? So, Jatoma was Cardina? If this man was being sent in Cardina during the war, was he a fairy, then? "Do you have confidence in them?" she asked.

"I mean, if the rumors are true, then why not?" the spirit reasoned. "Otherwise, I don't really know. Hold on," his eyes started becoming hazy. He began looking here and there, searching for something that didn't exist in the present. "Someone's calling me. Was that...mother? Leira? I'm coming!"

Kymalin watched the spirit turn away and run in the opposite direction. Then, his body evaporated in a puff of green mist. Soon, there was no trace of him ever being in this room, apart from, perhaps, the trail left by the spell Kymalin cast to get the spirit here.

Well, that's that. The spirit spouted nonsense and Kymalin just wasted a chance in getting closer to finding an answer as to how to heal her brother.

How amusing. Why in Pidmena's name did she have to think about swords, in the first place?