Etinee: The Summoning (The Prologue)

Prologue


         The first two banners proudly proclaimed the wonder of what was laid before him; the next were a threat to those who bared ill will towards the thrones that lay beyond them. The hall laid in darkness, as it had remained for nearly a year; the still air was cold and clung to his skin. Except for his own breath, he could hear nothing.
         He stepped cautiously, as he could not exactly remember the layout of the room since his last appearance here. At last he spied the faint image of a torch upon the wall.
         “Bring light unto the darkness.” He pointed at it and an ember began to gnaw at the tidbits of sticks and spider webs. As its light pulled the darkness from his eyes, he made his way to the back of the room; the light twinkled off an enormous gold emblem on the back wall.
         Four thrones sat beneath it, not of value to those with an untrained eye, but priceless with precision and prestige. Farthest to the left was a throne clung heavy with ivy, sprouting new curls around its corners. Behind the next one stood a long red banner, which seemed to ripple ever so slightly, though no breeze passed through the enclosed room. The throne to its right was draped simple with white cloth. The furthest on the right was encrusted with blue gems, dull with age.
         He moved to stand before the first throne. In a voice unwavering, he called out:

“From the farthest of the East,
The forest to the sands,
Bring forth your might,
As I summon The Woodlands.”

         The stones beneath his feet began to tremble and there was a mighty CRACK as the floor ripped apart. From the narrow trench remaining rose a petrified young woman in patched leather armor and skin of dusty hues. She acknowledged the man with a deep bow at the waist and nearly missed her seat as she tried to sit upon the ivy-covered chair. Gracefully, she showed no embarrassment and sat down correctly. He was quick to step sideways from the crevice of which he could see no end.
         He moved to the next throne and again he spoke.

“From the farthest of the North,
The shore to mountains higher,
Show your great power,
As I summon The Many Fire.”          

         Immediately the second throne burst into flames! As they calmed to embers, a man short in stature was revealed unscathed and smiling broadly. He nodded to both the others. The elder man continued on.

“From the farthest of the West,
Air thick and air thin,
Lay deep within the sky,
As I summon the Turning Wind.”

         The sheet lying on the throne was whisked up in a breeze and as it settled, there upon it sat a much older man, his skin dark in complexion and hair of wisdom and age. He gave a short nod.
         The man hesitated slightly before moving on, and glanced at the last vacant throne.

“From the depths of the Ocean,
The lakes upon the plane,
Bring every drop in every stream,
As I summon The Sudden Rain.”

         A deep mist arose from the crevices and cracks and seemed to condense until it became the vague figure of a woman, taller with wiry fingers and an aged head of snowy white hair. She sat expressionless, ignoring the man before her; impatient eyes swiveled to the others beside her. The Turning Wind’s jaw set in a strong line and he leaned slightly away.
         Four stared at one in the dimly lit room, unaware of another tucked into the corner shadows.
         “Welcome…” He addressed the woman on his left, “…back.” He added to the three to her right, watching them all carefully. “It has been presented to me that it is time to continue forward with our plans. We will retrieve the Etinee…”
         “I really don’t think we should be retrieving it until we are sure of what it has become. I can’t recall the last time we’ve brought one back that has been across for so many years. This could have repercussions,” said The Many Fire, agitated.
         “I agree,” said the Turning Wind. “We should have studied it when we had the time; it seems we have waited until a binge of desperation for us to scurry to find an answer. Let us send someone to judge its capabilities and we shall reconvene at that later time.”
         “Out of the question!” spoke the large man in front, to everyone’s surprise. “We must continue our plans.”
The Turning Wind raised an eyebrow at his remark.
“You said it yourself, we appear to be running into problems. This might be the solution we’ve been seeking!” he pressed.
         Feeling the need to rise and turn to the others, The Woodlands spoke in a rather child-like tone, “I have tried to not ask for help, but I fear I will need the Etinee’s help.” She hesitated slightly at their looks of confusion. “I have asked Lord Gherrid to summon us earlier because I fear for the life of one of my people among Illias Woods.”
         “One?” repeated The Turning Wind. “Your Grace, we must look to the betterment of all before we bow to the whims of one.”
         She swallowed, her heart beating rapidly. “Of…course, but…” She quickly sat down without finishing.
         The Turning Wind leaned to one side, impatient. “Then we will return?”
         “No.” The Many Fire spoke, looking at The Woodlands slightly slumped form, feeling the aged eyes of The Sudden Rain drift to him. With conviction he said, “We will do this now.”
         “Then let us be swift in our actions!” The Turning Wind said. “For some of us have greater obligations of protection. Bring us your summoner.”
         The man walked swiftly to the door, eyes glancing around as the shadowed figure in the corner watched him pull the handle and held it open. There entered a thin, gauntly looking man much shorter than the first. His rich robes hung on his weak frame and he leaned on a gnarled stick half his height.
         “Let us hope, my Lords and Ladies, that you have not forgotten me.” His eyes watched with a playful grin upon them.
         Puzzled expressions lay amongst their faces, until The Many Fire finally guessed. “Roh? Is that you?”
         Roh stepped forward, his sickly shape seemed to melt and reform upon his bones as a new person; his wrinkles pulled taut to reveal youthful skin. Bright blazing red hair now topped his head, and although his stature remained somewhat short, he was now not quite so lean.
         “How good it is to see a familiar face, eh?” Lord Gherrid chuckled and slapped him on the back. “How many of those confounded costumes have you gotten hid up your sleeve?”
         “You will be on your way, summoner.” The command came from The Turning Wind.
         “Of course, sir,” said the one named Roh, who stood arms extended out facing the four. He nearly shut his eyes, still wary of the woman on the far side.
        The image in the shadows crouched quite swiftly, ready to pounce as his opportunity approached. Lord Gherrid cleared the floor.
        “You will bring back the Etinee that has extended our gates to outside lands. You may call when you are ready to return.” As The Turning Wind spoke, the four upon their thrones stood again, each holding a hand towards Roh.
With a blinding flash, he vanished, unknowingly taking the intruder with him.
As the light began to fade, The Many Fire turned to the emblem behind the four thrones up on the final wall. It’s ledge rusting, but the faith within it never ending. The Woodlands gave him a weak smile before descending back down the steps to her crevice; the others already gone in haste.
        He spoke softly, “Sheilo be with you tonight, little one. Roh should keep you in good hands.”