Once we put all the individual ingredients into place, the ritual to summon and contract a familiar spirit is actually pretty easy. Leigh moves to stand in the center of the circle, my transcription of the chant clutched tight in her hand. She closes her eyes, likely recalling her image training and focusing on what she wants from her familiar.

Leigh’s voice takes on a deep and imposing quality as she recites the words of power. I wish I could have transcribed it in dwarvish for her to focus the spell further, but I never learned the language, Hikos will have to do.

The whole ritual only takes a few minutes, and Leigh repeats the transcribed chant twice. The words themselves are less important than the image they evoke. An image of partnership, assistance, and mutual growth. The single lit candle at the circle's edge flickers as Leigh’s words draw to a close.

She pronounces the final few syllables and closes her eyes tight in focus. I can feel her mana pouring into the circle, creating a beacon for spirits to follow back to our plane. All at once, the ritual ends with a flash. The circle flares with amber light, and the chalk burns away. Leigh’s offerings are taken, though not all of them. The charcoal chunk smolders and vanishes, and the metal scraps seem to melt and evaporate, though the candle is snuffed out.

I have to blink away the momentary blindness of the sudden flash, but when I regain my senses, Leigh is kneeling in the circle face to face with a small black piglet. Two tiny tusks jutting out from its mouth announce it as a boar and not a pig. On closer inspection, the black bristly fur on its back shimmers with hidden embers whenever the pig moves.

Leigh has succeeded and summoned a fire-attuned spirit at the minimum. Right now she’s talking to the spirit to forge a contract, their silent communication apparent whenever body language bleeds through. I hope it’s going well.

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Leigh’s perspective on the ritual

Leigh presses her focus hard as the chant comes to an end. She can feel the sweat dripping down the sides of her face, mana coursing through her veins. This is by far the single most difficult piece of magic she’s performed so far, and her third class is likely doing most of the work. The final syllables of the chant are almost painful, and accompanied an iron taste as they escape her lips.

Leigh can barely hear the flash of burning over the sound of throbbing heartbeats in her ears, even still the flash of light is visible through her eyelids, and she knows something has happened.

‘Hello, mortal.’ a voice rings gently in her mind. Leigh opens her eyes to find a tiny bristly black boar made of smoldering charcoal standing by her feet. She kneels down to face the piglet, and recalls Vincent’s advice on how to deal with spirits.

‘Hail and well met, noble spirit’ she thinks broadly, feeling a tentative mental connection with the creature. ‘I am Leigh Kisgrick, Blacksmith and apprentice Mage. I have summoned you here to forge a contract.’

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‘I know very well while you have called into the Aether mortal. Speak your terms’ the spirit states, its tone dismissive. Even in Leigh’s mind, the creature’s voice sounds like a crackling fire.

‘If I may ask you first noble spirit, of what element are you aligned? I can tell quite clearly you bear fire at least partially, but beyond that…’ Leigh interrupts, her overly formal words difficult and tense.

‘You are correct. I am of fire, but I am also of earth, of ore, and of metal. I am the flame of the hearth and the heat of the forge.’ The tiny pig explains, and Leigh says a silent prayer of thanks to the forge-lord.

‘In that case noble spirit, I would be forever grateful to form a pact of allegiance with you. I seek to further my craft as a smith, and empower my magic. I believe you can do both. What would you ask in return?’

The burning boar snorts in response, and even with the distance between them Leigh can feel the heat. ‘I am still considered young for my kind mortal, though I know not how your people measure age. Your terms would facilitate my growth well. We are of similar alignments, and I can smell the potency of your mana.’ The explanation is cut short by a high pitched squeal echoing through Leigh’s thoughts.

‘My terms are such. You will sacrifice a craft of your making to me once every ten levels, you will pay the cost of summoning my material form each time, and 70% of the mana for my powers.’ Leigh winces as the numbers are presented. Vincent had told her certain spirits would ask for full mana coverage, but he seemed confident most contracts were lower than that. Leigh’s presented price is steep.

‘Would you be agreeable to an even 50/50 split on the cost of your powers if I let you request the form of the sacrifice made each cycle?’ Leigh asks tentatively, afraid to press for a more beneficial contract and risk losing the spirit’s willingness to cooperate.

‘That is reasonable. You have a deal Leigh Kisgrick.’ The boar roars triumphantly, this time audibly letting its swine call echo in the forge. Vincent smiles towards Leigh when he realizes her contract has been a success, and she nods to him gently.

As she stands back up, Leigh is met by a system dialogue that seems to rise to meet her from her new companion.

You have formed a contract with [F̷̩̜́̏̚ö̷̢̗͈́ͅr̴̠̙̤͙̄͌̒̓g̷̪͙͛͋̉ē̸̖̫̳̩͒̕͝ ̸̨̙̯̦͑͌b̵͕̣̣́̄͐ơ̴͇͂̚a̶̻̰̞̦͆̀͋r̴̢̰͈̓̑̚- lvl ??].

Soul binding initiated…

Soul binding complete.

Please name your new familiar.

“It is a pleasure to meet you. Cinder.” Leigh said to the smoldering piglet who squealed joyfully in response. Though she could hear the sound, the meaning was conveyed into her mind directly. ‘Well met.’

With a clear signal that the ritual is over, Vincent rushes into the circle and politely introduces himself to Cinder. Leigh stifles a laugh when she sees her old friend bowing to a piglet, but the humor is replaced with surprise when Cinder bows their head in response.

‘Now. Leigh. I would very much like to be shown around your forge.’ Cinder explains, trotting over to stand by Leigh’s feet and looking up at her. His eyes smolder a bright orange. ‘You may lift me.’