The forest stretched endlessly, its ancient trees standing sentinel against the chaos of the world beyond. Emmet Fischer stumbled through the dense undergrowth, blood dripping from a deep gash on his leg. His breaths came in ragged gasps, his body weighed down by exhaustion and the desperate need to keep moving. At his side, his first summon—a massive serpent with emerald scales—slithered sluggishly, its body marred by vicious wounds inflicted during their flight from the bandits.

Emmet clutched his spear tightly, its shaft splintered from overuse. The bandits had been relentless, hunting him for days after he crossed their territory. He had underestimated their numbers—and their cruelty. His serpent had taken the brunt of their attacks, shielding him from the worst of the ambush. Now, they were both barely holding on.

The faint sound of voices in the distance sent a jolt of adrenaline through him. The bandits weren’t far behind. He glanced at the serpent, its flickering tongue a weak imitation of its usual vitality.

“I know, buddy,” Emmet muttered, his voice hoarse. “We’re not going to make it much longer like this.”

The words tasted bitter. He had survived the apocalypse for two long years, only to be cornered by a group of petty thieves. No, he thought fiercely. This isn’t the end.

They stumbled into a clearing bathed in the silver light of a full moon. Emmet’s instincts screamed to keep moving, to seek cover, but something about the place made him pause. The air here felt different, charged with an almost tangible energy.

Then he saw it—a small, ancient shrine half-buried in moss and roots. A faint glow emanated from its surface, pulsing softly like a heartbeat. Emmet felt his own heart skip a beat in recognition. This wasn’t an ordinary shrine. It was a summoning nexus, a rare place where the veil between realms thinned.

The serpent let out a low hiss, urging him forward. Emmet limped to the shrine and knelt before it, placing his bloodied hand on its surface. He closed his eyes and focused, reaching deep within himself to the place where his bond with his summons resided.

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“Please,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “I need help. We need help.”

The shrine responded. The glow intensified, enveloping him in warmth and light. Emmet felt the familiar pull of summoning magic, but this time it was stronger, almost overwhelming. He poured everything he had into the connection—his desperation, his determination, his will to survive.

The air around him crackled, and a figure began to materialize within the light. When the glow faded, she stood before him.

Tabitha.

She was everything the bond had promised—graceful, powerful, and radiating an aura of calm strength. Her long hair cascaded like liquid silver, and her eyes glowed faintly with arcane energy. She wore intricate robes that seemed to shimmer with their own light, and in her hand was a staff that pulsed with dormant magic.

Emmet stared, awestruck, as she assessed him and the serpent with a calm but piercing gaze. “You’ve called me,” she said, her voice melodic yet firm. “And you’re in dire need.”

“Bandits,” Emmet rasped, his strength waning. “They’ll be here any moment.”

Tabitha nodded and stepped forward, her staff glowing brighter. “Then let us end this quickly.”

The bandits burst into the clearing moments later, their weapons drawn and their eyes gleaming with malice. They paused at the sight of Tabitha, uncertain.

“What is this?” one of them snarled.

Tabitha raised her staff, and the air around her shimmered as if reality itself were bending to her will. “Your reckoning,” she said simply.

With a wave of her staff, she unleashed a torrent of magic. A barrier of light sprang up around Emmet and the serpent, shielding them from harm. Bolts of energy arced toward the bandits, striking with unerring precision. The clearing erupted into chaos as Tabitha’s power overwhelmed their attackers.

When the last bandit fell, silence returned to the clearing. Tabitha lowered her staff and turned to Emmet, her expression softening. “Rest now,” she said. “You’ve fought hard enough.”

Emmet nodded weakly, relief washing over him as his vision blurred. As darkness claimed him, he felt Tabitha’s magic wrap around him like a protective cocoon. For the first time in days, he felt safe.