Chapter 250: Summoned
The forest outside Westfall Village was bright and clear, the verdant canopy shining under the sun, casting large pools of shade between patches of sparkling sunlight. A thick, summer breeze carrying the gentle heat of the evening wafted through the branches, flowing with pollen and the hot with the scent of woodsmoke.
I leaned against the ancient stump, legs curled beneath me and hands folded peacefully in my lap. My eyes drifted between the clash of wooden swords in the corner and the chants of magic happening before me.
"Summon Lesser Spirit: Wind!" Tana cried, her eyes flashing open as her chant came to an end.
Four magic circles spun lazily about her, laden with complex runes reminiscent of the sixth-circle spell Elemental Spirit. A ball of soft, white light coalesced before her outstretched hands, and the constant, evening breeze paused for a heartbeat. It began to flow again, but this time, instead of winding aimlessly through the trees, it flowed toward the sphere. A small, three foot creature took shape, the details of its form visible only as a translucent distortion in the air, pulsing with inner light.
Sari clapped her hands, looking up at the floating creature in wonder. It had long, graceful butterfly wings and antennae, but otherwise appeared like a pretty, if very small, girl. The spirit giggled, a sound like the gurgling of a cold stream, and flew about the foxkin girl.
On the other side of the clearing, Ror and Sorrin fought with wooden training swords. Sweat rolled down the young boy’s face, and after the last few hours, even Sorrin looked tired, a slight tinge of red crossing his face and a hitch in his breathing.
The "training grounds," as Ror and Sari had named it, was nothing more than the clearing I discovered while recovering in Westfall Village. The deep scars and shattered trees had faded into the forest, softening the damage the Shadow Golem’s attacks had caused. One particularly long furrow, dug by one of Fable’s magical techniques, ran through the stream on the edge of the clearing even, creating a small distributary that trickled a few feet from the ancient stump in the center.
I yawned, stretching my arms over my head, and looked at Fable beside me. He lay on his side, limbs splayed out erratically, chest rising and falling in long, even breaths. His silvery coat glittered in the evening sun, and his eyes were closed. Occasionally, they sneak open a tad, glancing at me as though to make sure I hadn’t run off, but for the most part, he lounged about, soaking in the heat.
It had been a long, intense month since our battle against Vithrass in the warehouse. It had only taken a few days for Helron to find information regarding the Circle’s bases in the outer territories of the Heartland forest. Goblin activity had increased dramatically since our first raid with new tribes and lairs popping up all over. Monsters had also been on the rise, giving us plenty to do outside the city while we waited for the storm within the walls to fade. After a month of adventuring and fierce battles against the outer members of the Circle, we’d finally ended up at Westfall Village, the place where it all began.
"Starlight," Tana said, plopping down beside me. "How’d I do?"
I blinked, tearing myself free of my thoughts, and looked at her. Sweat beaded on her forehead, her cheeks flushed with exertion, but she smiled happily, her eyes bright with joy. Sari followed her, crawling between Fable’s legs to rest her head against his belly. The wolf adjusted himself to wrap more fully around her, a soft, satisfied rumble in his throat.