The smoke from dozens of large candles attached to wall brackets at short intervals spiraled gracefully upwards in the great hall to the awe-inspiring high ceiling. The floor, walls and ceiling were covered in magical spell runes and complex protective signs designed to keep out all supernatural beings and influences. Except, of course, those that were explicitly invoked here. Two rows of silver-metallic ventilation shafts surrounded the hall, reminding every visitor that they were no longer in the Dark Ages. Theories among the students attributed a mystical significance to the arrangement of the ventilation system. Only a few professors knew the real reason for this break in style. The construction work had fallen behind schedule and in order to be able to go on vacation in time for the upcoming good weather period, Rector Argus had pushed through some "cost-cutting measures". Among other things, he replaced the weeks of excavation work for the ventilation shafts hidden in the rock face with the numerous, stylish bronze gargoyles as air outlets with a more "modern" construction.
Hidden deep beneath the "Administration Building II" of the Faculty of Magic, the impressive incantation hall was only accessible to teaching staff and participants of the relevant advanced courses. And only under the supervision of an experienced magician.
The actual summoning circle was located in the middle of the room. An open area of smooth black granite, five meters in diameter, which stood out due to the complete absence of the protective signs that were otherwise omnipresent in the room. Here, each summoner had the opportunity to place the signs required for their particular summoning.
Next to the incantation circle was a raised podium made of dark old wood from which teachers or, more rarely, spectators could watch the proceedings.
As an important exam was taking place, the gate was firmly closed and magically sealed. Only the examinee, a young student called Kane Davidson, and the three examiners - all experienced magicians and summoners - were allowed to stay here during the exam.
Standing in the black granite circle was a visibly nervous young man with long black hair. He was dressed in bleached jeans and a Metallica T-shirt that didn't match his surroundings. With a piece of chalk in his hand, he walked around the outside of the two large pentagrams he had just drawn. Once he was sure he hadn't made a mistake, he turned to the podium, from where three older men were already looking at him impatiently.
"I um... would be ready then..." He looked up at the podium expectantly.
Professor mag. thaum. Majere stood up gracefully and took a demonstrative look at the documents submitted by young Kane. Anyone who had met him in his former life would certainly not recognize Prof. Majere. Instead of his old black robes, he now wore comfortable black jeans and a screamingly colorful Hawaiian shirt. He knew that it was totally out of keeping with his position as head of the Faculty of Magic, but it gave him secretly thieving pleasure to see the looks on his colleagues' faces, who would all like to call him on it but didn't dare because of his reputation. Of course, he could have pointed out to them that he had long ago decided to become a better person and wouldn't hurt anyone just because he criticized his clothes. But at the moment, he was having far too much fun. Of course, he would never show that...
Even more incongruous than his Hawaiian shirt, however, in this gloomy hall lit by flickering candlelight, were the golden mirrored sunglasses he always wore. Always! No student had ever seen his eyes and over the years there had been some more or less interesting rumors on the subject. Everything from the petrifying gaze of a basilisk to the laser-beam shooting eyes of a mutant from the X-Men comics had been attributed to him.
As always, the magician's voice sounded slightly hoarse, as if he had only recently recovered from an illness. "Well, Mr. Davidson, your thesis doesn't look bad from a theoretical point of view. There are still a few fine points to improve, but I've already sent you some corrections. I'm sure you've already improved everything accordingly?"
Kane thought guiltily of the numerous red notes he had gotten back on his paper. All in the professor's precise handwriting. And all in his native alphabet and the ancient secret language of his old mage order out of obviously pure malice. He had had the choice of either sitting for hours over dictionaries and code tables to decipher this or simply hoping that he hadn't done anything really significant wrong and that it was just a matter of unimportant subtleties and stylistic errors. And when his girlfriend had called to tell him that her parents were away for the weekend and she had a storm-free pad... Well, the choice hadn't been difficult.
The examinee swallowed and then nodded silently.
"Good, then I'd suggest we start with the more interesting part. The best way to start is to explain why your summoning ritual is supposed to be better than those that have been handed down for centuries." He leaned back comfortably in his high-backed armchair and waited.
The two teachers to his left and right had not yet read the drafts and were therefore visibly interested in what they would now be offered.
On the left sat Professor Rohal, who had only recently joined the university. Rumor had it that the wise old mage had held a rather high position in the parallel world from which he came until he himself was catapulted through the universe in an attempt to hurl his evil twin brother into a magical dungeon dimension.
Young Groschen was lounging to the right of Professor Majere. He hadn't really changed since he had wandered out of a dimensional portal one day and looked around curiously. Tests had shown him to be a truly powerful mage, but he had had almost no systematic training. In the meantime, he had graduated with honors and had risen to become a teaching mage. He was very popular with his students, as he awarded grades based solely on practical results and was never interested in theory. However, his colleagues were usually unable to do much with him
Kane Davidson swallowed under the expectant gaze of the three examiners and then began his long-rehearsed speech: "One of the greatest weaknesses in summoning rituals is always the possibility of being disturbed from the outside at a critical moment. If the protective circle is damaged, the demon usually breaks out. This often results in serious injuries or even the death of the summoner and bystanders, as well as extensive damage to property. My variation now combines three protection options into one large ritual. The demon is summoned in a standard pentagram, the mage is also in a pentagram as usual for protection against demonic powers. My variant now provides a protective wall against physical and magical forces, which surrounds BOTH pentagrams and therefore makes outside interference impossible. In addition, the protective effect of the pentagram in which the mage stands is reinforced by a physical barrier. This makes it almost impossible for non-demonic beings or forces to attack the mage or break through his pentagram. If the demon escapes from the summoning pentagram, it is locked together with the safely protected mage and must first overcome another obstacle before it can do any damage. Plenty of opportunity for the summoner to banish it or otherwise render it harmless."
The three examiners chatted quietly for a moment, then Groschen nodded encouragingly to the unsure Kane Davidson. "Well then, show me what you've got."
He immediately set to work. He took a piece of orange and gold chalk from a small silver case. He used it to draw a generous circle around the entire arrangement. He carefully put the small piece of chalk he had left back into the case and put it back. He then took one of the normal pieces of white chalk lying around and closed three places on the protective signs that had been deliberately left open. First the outermost circle, then the pentagram for the actual demon summoning and finally his protective pentagram after he had entered it. Then he began to recite the same rhythmic incantations over and over again until a slight glow in the air indicated the creation of the magical barrier.
After a while, the magician Groschen began to yawn and, under the deeply disdainful gaze of his two colleagues, took out a Gameboy, plugged the headphones into his ears and started a round of Tetris.
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Prof. Rohal shook his head disapprovingly and then turned his attention back to the examinee. He watched the performance with the relaxed interest of a magician who had already witnessed and even performed the greatest of rituals. As he was concentrating on whether the examinee was pronouncing his formulas correctly, it was only after a moment that he heard Majere talking to him quietly in his hoarse voice: "... but I don't have the feeling that he has taken my suggestions for improvement to heart. Summoning a demon physically from a dimension other than Carcerus is innovative, but not effective. And the two pentagrams still have the same denominators on them. I don't understand how he can tell which of the two the demon is supposed to appear in during his ritual. Actually, I would have expected him to change the cantus accordingly to compensate for this, although this is of course an extremely amateurish method..."
Rohal's eyes widened in alarm. "He hasn't established a clear denominator?"
Majere's hoarse whisper remained calm and composed, while he did not take his attention off the ongoing ritual for a second. "That's what I just said. And since I still haven't noticed anything like that in his ritual, the odds are 50-50 that you'll once again get to prove your reputation as the best banishing mage to save that dilettante's life."
The older mage shook his head vigorously. "No, no, no. Without a significant, clear denominator, the demon will always manifest itself in the closer pentagram. In other words, in the one he is standing in at the moment! And thanks to its external protective field, we can't easily intervene either!"
Majere uttered a curse in an ancient, barely known language and began to shout loudly, instructing the examinee to interrupt his ritual immediately. But too late.
Davidson had just brought about the climax of the ritual by punctuating his final syllables with a loud clap. As hoped, the orange-gold chalk circle briefly lit up brightly and then evaporated as planned. He stared tensely at the pentagram opposite, where he was now expecting an effect. But while nothing happened there, the air directly around him began to shimmer! His heart suddenly beat up to his neck and a sweat of fear rose to his forehead. It hadn't been planned like this!
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed movement in two of the three examiners. Two of them stood up and began throwing powerful spells across the room to collapse his protective ring. Majere used a colorful palette of fireballs, lightning bolts and whatever other combat spells he could think of. Rohal, on the other hand, began with a complex spell that would surely bring down the protective wall. But it had taken Davidson an hour to build the wall. Even Rohal's superior magic would take a minute or two to overcome his spell. Too long. Far too long.
The magician Groschen had now realized that something was wrong. He took the headphones out of his ears, put his Gameboy to one side and, confused, tried to find out what was going on.
The examinee's breathing became heavier as the air in the pentagram filled with the smell of sulphur from the strange dimension. Patches of unreal, shimmering blackness spread out in the narrow space around him. In a panic, he tried to step out of the pentagram, but came up against the magical barrier that was supposed to protect his pentagram from any disturbance.
Before he could do anything, he suddenly heard a voice in his head. Deep, spiteful and yet somehow amused: "What an original way to commit suicide. Was there no easier and more painless method available to you as a mage?". A dirty laugh shook Davidson's mind.
"I don't want to die!" He sounded far more snivelling and desperate than he had intended, but as he had never had to look death straight in the eye, the young examinee was further outside his usual world of experience. "Please! Just go back to where you came from! Get lost!"
The laughter rolled over him like a wave of old engine oil. "Your call compels me to appear here in this world. Only when I have fully materialized can and must I follow your further commands."
"The professor will punish you if you touch me!" It was childish, but he couldn't think of anything better at the moment.
The laughter repeated itself. "I fear no one whose pupil is so incompetent." The air grew thicker as more and more of the demon's essence entered this world. Davidson found it harder and harder to breathe.
"Please..." His voice trailed off. The demon's eyes were already taking shape in the cloud, looking around curiously. Without the will of a summoner to hold him, he would quickly be snatched back to the dark plains from which he had been so surprisingly summoned. But at least he would have the soul of this incompetent human...
He froze when his gaze fell on one of the three teachers. Him! Did he have to meet him of all people? There weren't many ways to scare a demon, after all, demons were never in their real bodies and didn't have to fear physical wounds, but rumor had it that he knew them all. It was a wonder they could stop him from ascending back then. A coldness he had never felt before crept into the demon's heart. A feeling he did not know. Could it be fear?
"Listen, mortal fool! Your tiny pentagram doesn't leave me enough room. If I materialize, I will crush you! Send me back!!!" The command boomed in Davidson's ears. Was there a hint of panic?
"Idiot! If I could do that, I would have done it long ago." He began kicking the magical field in panic. Davidson wondered what had caused the demon to change his mind from one moment to the next. He had just been looking forward to crushing him and tearing his soul to the Nether Hells and now? What was he up to now?
Some of the demon's black tentacles were already beginning to take on solid forms. He only had seconds to think of something. He didn't like the only way out that came to mind. He didn't like it at all. He hesitated for seconds, but he saw no alternative. "Listen, mortal. You can save your life, but you must do as I say. Open your mind and speak the formula I give you..."
Outside the room, organized chaos continued to rage. Professor Majere thundered one flashing battle spell after another into the barrier, Professor Rohal was still busy with his banishing spell and Professor Groschen had finally understood what was going on and had begun to cast a spell.
When Groschen's spell took effect, Majere briefly interrupted his fireworks of spells. As always, the youngest of the professors had chosen an unusually creative way to achieve his goal. Under his commanding gestures, part of the floor slab broke into pieces, indirectly breaking the magic spell circle. For a moment, the professors thought he had succeeded, but then they realized that the spell circle remained unchanged, even though the floor slab had been partially removed. Majere nodded to himself in awe as he realized that the previously drawn circle was now floating as an illusion above the badly damaged floor. Mentally, he made a mental note to award a few bonus points in his grading for this clever added safety factor. Then he remembered that he would probably award the diploma posthumously. Now that the bright flashes and clouds of smoke from his previous spells had dissipated and the room was finally clear again, he saw that something had changed in the small pentagram. Instead of kicking wildly, the young student was now standing calmly in the pentagram, which was increasingly filled with black tentacles and dark mist, his arms spread wide and he seemed to be muttering something. A spell? Had he found a way to save himself?
Even from the examiners' observation desk, it was clear to see Davidson finish his spell. For a split second he simply stood with his arms outstretched in the dense mass of tentacles and blackness, then he opened his mouth in an inaudible scream. His body became semi-translucent and began to glow with a dark purple light. The tentacles around him flashed briefly, then dissipated into a luminous mist. For a moment it seemed as if the spell had destroyed the demon, then a veritable storm broke out in the confined space of the pentagram. Like a mixture of water running down a drain and a whirlwind descending on the ground like the avenging finger of God from the heavens, the demon's form, which had become mist, swirled into the young mage's mouth, which remained wide open. As soon as the last of the black-purple mist had completely disappeared, the summoning spell registered that the demon was no longer present. The protective spells expired.
"Everything all right?" Majere looked down questioningly at his examinee. Even he had never seen such a spell before. What kind of spell was that supposed to be?
"YES!" the young student's voice sounded like it came from a deep crypt, muffled and exaggeratedly loud, as if he had yet to find the right volume.
As he turned to the three old experienced magicians, his eyes flashed with an ominous dull purple light: "I'M EXCELLENT!"
*
Samanael, who had been able to see everything clearly from her observation post in the ventilation shaft, swallowed hard. What kind of creature was that? What were these guys doing here? Since when did demons really exist? Had someone changed the rules of the game when she hadn't been paying attention?
A thousand questions flashed through her mind. Then she unconsciously shook it vigorously back and forth. One after the other. She would look into all of this and drag one secret after another into the light. Once this ritual had been completed in one way or another, it could no longer be ruled out that one of these powerful magicians would notice her. She crept quietly through the ventilation shaft. An increasingly strong current of air led her down another shaft. For the last few meters, she had to use her clumsy little feet to brace herself with all her strength against the shaft floor to fight the ever-increasing air current. When she reached the shaft, she realized that there was a pipe going down as well as up. The wind was blowing up from below with great force. She hesitated, undecided. On such a strong current of air, she could safely climb upwards with her wings spread a little. On the other hand, what was down there?
Without further ado, the angel plunged downwards with her wings and arms pressed tightly against her body. The airflow slowed her down enough to stop her from hitting the ground later on so that she only suffered minor injuries. Only on the way did it occur to her that the shaft could also lead her directly into a propeller. According to the airflow, even a very powerful propeller!
She stretched her wings slightly on a trial basis. She immediately whirled upwards again. Thundered left and right against the wall. As she involuntarily rolled over in the narrow shaft, one of her arms even threatened to break. At the last moment, she pulled it back on together with her wings. And down she went again.