The young man lay sleeping peacefully on his pallet in the back of an herb and spice shop. There was barely room, for the small work room was stocked, floor-to-ceiling with various jars of herbs and spices, many of which the young man had personally collected in the nearby forest.
Suddenly, he awoke with a start and sat up. He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes as a whispered utterance escaped his pursed lips, “a Summoning!” A fleeting look of panic flashed across his face. If anyone had been facing him, it would have been a clear indication that the man, while the young man recognized the Summoning, he had never actually experienced one before.
As he rose from the pallet and changed into more suitable garb for venturing out, mainly a robe made of a heavy hemp cloth, secured around his waist by a narrow leather belt. As he dressed, he continued to mutter to himself. “A Summoning! That can only mean the threat of an imbalance in the energies of nature serious enough that the system could not return to an equilibrium on its own.” As he understood it, all the past imbalances severe enough to warrant Summonings were due to the beings that channeled nature’s negative energies: many animals including most wolves and bats,... and some humans.
“I guess I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” he said, taking one last scan around the shop, as if desperately looking for any excuse to keep him there. With a resigned sigh, he ceased his muttering, quietly exited the shop, and turned toward the nearby forest. The light of the first quarter moon lit his way, so he was able to make good time.
Before long, he stood at the edge of the forest. He stood there for a moment to gather his nerves. He was not afraid of the forest, having spent much of his life roaming around in it to hunt for various ingredients he needed for his salves and potions.
He took one long deep breath and plunged in, marching determinedly toward the enclave; the clearing deep in the forest, where the natural forces were strongest. He had ventured there numerous times over the years. Usually when he felt he needed to clear his head or ponder the solution to a particularly difficult problem.
He looked increasingly uneasy as he neared the enclave, and finally stopped when he reached its edge. Although it was night, the dim light of the moon could be seen in the clearing. He straightened himself to his full six feet, and stepped into the clearing. His shoulders slumped after the looked around for whatever it was he had expected, and found nothing.
After a few moments, there was a rustling at the edge of the clearing opposite the man. Another, similarly cloaked figure emerged and walked toward the waiting man.
“Where are the others?” he asked. “Am I the first to arrive?” The young man looked puzzled. “I’ve never been to a Summoning. Everything has felt normal. What situation could be challenging us?”
The other figure turned and glanced up, the light of the moon revealing the face of another man, somewhat older looking, and with a darker demeanor. “There are no others. This Summoning was for you alone. Join us.”
“I don’t understand. How did you create a Summoning for just me?” The young man looked puzzled. “And what do you mean, join you?”
“I have discovered that great resources lie in nature, just waiting for us to harvest them, to exploit their value. Enrich us all. You can share in the wealth. All you have to do is join us, and I will teach you.”
“‘Exploit their value?’ We are not here to exploit nature. We who share this bond were given this gift of sensitivity to nature. We have the power to influence it,” the young man protested. “We are bound to protect the balance of nature. We do not choose sides, and we certainly do not exploit it….”
“Do not think to lecture me,” snarled the older man. “What was given to us was a curse! An onus to serve trees and mosses.” He gestured wildly at the forest. Even in the dim moonlight, the look of contempt was clear on his face. “Any tiny thing that threatens requires us to come save them!”
Seeing that this did not generate any reaction, the older man continued, “but we have been shown that this curse can be turned into a gift.”
“How did you learn of this… gift?”
“I was walking in the forest one evening, when I encountered a wolf. He had just downed a hart. Its legs were broken and useless, but it was very much alive. I stood there staring, partly in horror and partly in fascination, when the wolf sensed me and turned toward me. I prepared to flee, when the wolf called to me. ‘Come,’ he said. ‘Finish this creature off with me. Share in its life force.’”
“You didn’t….” The young man’s voice trailed off.
“I was compelled to join the wolf at the side of the shaking hart. I could see the terror in its eyes. I was mesmerized. Impulsively I bit into its neck, severing its jugular vein. I drank my fill of its living blood…. My God. The surge of power that flowed through me.” The older man’s voice was growing increasingly excited. “It was intoxicating. I had never felt so alive with power before.”
This time, a look of horror crossed the younger man’s face. “You drank its blood…?”
The older man looked at the younger with pity as a third figure silently slipped up behind the young man, and raised his hand. The dark glint of an obsidian blade flashed briefly with reflected moonlight as it was brought down deep into the back of the young man’s neck.
The young man slumped down to the ground, and fell over on his side. From this vantage point, he was able to see the dead bodies of several of his friends and comrades through the trees.
As the life ebbed from his broken body, a look of deep concentration covered his face. Just before the light completely faded from his eyes, a globe of energy, barely visible as a shimmer of light, rose from the young man’s body, rose above him, and shot off through the forest, unnoticed by either of his assailants.
