Summoning circles are a rather curious piece of magickery.

It was once thought that they pulled creatures from alternate dimensions, other places beyond our range, and gave them form in our world. This theory was disproved, although many still swear by it, and so we scientists strove to find the correct solution.

After a full decade of research and historical documentation, we discovered that summoning circles search their surroundings for an appropriate vessel to resuscitate, and then proceeds to ‘resurrect’ previously mentioned vessel. Unfortunately, the process does not work on humanity or human-adjacent species, such as Maderai or Nakfolo; it is exclusive to only beasts and monsters.

However, we also found a way to… narrow the search, to dumb it down. We discovered that certain materials and more fine lines made the circle more precise, increasing the maximum bar for the power of any given entity, although weaker minions can and often are summoned in lieu of the prime monsters. Theoretically, it might be possible to revive even an apex specimen of any species, provided one found the correct location and used the proper materials.

Sadly, no such place or items have, as of yet, been found.

-Daro D’Vari, university janitor

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Miro’s entire surface was sagging.

After its nightmare the previous night, it’d been unable to fall asleep. The remainder of the time before dawn had been spent attempting to perform the feat from Miro’s dream with no success. It was more than a little disheartening to try so many times without even the slightest ounce of progress to show for it.

Frowning, Olivai looked it over. “Are you feeling quite alright, Miro? You don’t look yourself. Is… is this a good thing?”

Miro blew a disconsolate raspberry and Olivai released a sigh of relief. “Oh, that’s good. I’m finally starting to figure your moods out.” She blinked and hastily rearranged her expression. “I mean, it’s not good that you’re feeling bad, but…”

Facepalming, she sat down cross-legged and rested her cheek on one palm. “Sorry. It’s nice to have at least one success. Do you think you can tell me what the problem is?”

Miro thought for a moment. Experimentally, it tightened its internal gel and tried for a word. The only thing that came out of its mouth was a strained chirp, and it realized that wouldn’t work. What other options were there?

Rolling around the room, it investigated beneath Olivai’s bed once again. The only objects under there was the discarded box of tempting snacks, a shallow bin Miro couldn’t get into, and a lot of dust.

Miro inhaled some of the dust, and its surface wrinkled irritably. The taste was abysmal, dry and flaky, with hints of flavors Miro didn’t care to think about. Taking a deep breath, Miro paused, halted, and violently spat it out.

It was launched from beneath Olivai’s bed and rolled to an anticlimactic stop, releasing an irked burble. Olivai very unhelpfully started laughing. Miro took a moment to settle, then glared at her in all its gellipsoidic glory.

Shaking her head amusedly, Olivai stood up and began getting ready. “Alright, let’s go get you something to eat. I don’t know what the problem is and you can’t tell me, but at least food should help you get into a better mood.”

Miro’s spirits were indeed lifted at the news and it eagerly headed over to the heavy door, impatiently waiting for Olivai to follow.

Several agonizing minutes later, Olivai swung the door open, and Miro bobbled down the stairs, wiggling the whole way down. Plopping at the base of the stairs, it happily rolled out into the church.

A man was waiting at the base holding a brightly-colored flower, and he looked down at Miro with as much surprise as Miro looked up at him. There was a brief silence, and then the man whipped a staff out with a shout, aiming it at Miro. It shrieked shrilly, bouncing straight at the man’s face and liquifying itself simultaneously.

Miro wrapped around his head and partially solidified, chirping loudly. Its unanticipated captive’s scream came out of Miro’s mouth, which felt strange to say the least.

Olivai came out of the stairwell and went from a dead sprint to a dead stop, eyes widening as she took the scene in. “Miro! Get off his head!”

Miro was hardly built for an occasion as stressful as this one and immediately dissolved, falling through the man’s torso and passing through his legs as it shot behind Olivai, worriedly looking past her legs at the recovering assailant.

Getting back to his feet, the man choked out, “What is that!? Why aren’t you purifying it?”

Olivai glanced at his staff and a hard line formed on her forehead. “Daveen,” She started, and her tone made Miro go still. “Were you about to attack Miro?”

Wiping gel off his face, Daveen argued, “It jumped on my face!”

Miro suddenly recognized the man. It was one of Olivai’s acolytes from the night Miro had been summoned - the one that didn’t like Miro! Glaring at him, Miro blew a raspberry in his direction, and Daveen’s eyes narrowed. “It tried to attack me!”

Olivai frowned at him. “Well, it’s not as though you didn’t try to whack it the moment you saw it.”

Daveen indicated Miro with both arms, affront and gel pasted all over his face. “It’s a slime! What else would I do!?”

Shaking her head, Olivai frustratedly said, “I’m taking Miro to get some food. Do clean your face off, gel isn’t a good look for you.”

A startled hand went to Daveen’s slicked-back hair before he realized what she was talking about, and then he caught up to what she was saying. “Wait, you’re taking it out? You’ve never taken-” He shut his mouth abruptly, leaving the sentence unfinished. Drawing himself up, he stiffly said, “I’ll be taking my leave now.”

He turned and walked away with a straight back, unaware or uncaring about the line of slime running down his shirt. Miro gleefully smirked behind him, fully prepared to blow the biggest burble of its life until Olivai patted its top.

She was watching Daveen as he left, a curious expression on her face. “Did… did something seem strange? I feel as though he looked a little different.”

Miro didn’t really care. It gave her a voracious burble loaded with pure hunger, and Olivai’s distress faded with a chuckle. “I suppose it would be a good idea to find some food before making any assumptions. I assume you want more of Bordi’s work?”

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Miro nodded eagerly, and Olivai started walking towards the chapel doors. The hungry slime eagerly followed, its dream all but forgotten.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Ardently bouncing in place, Miro watched Olivai as she examined Bordi’s menu. The small shop was bustling quite a bit more than Miro’s prior visit - perhaps it had something to do with the time of day?

Bordi glanced over the counter with a raised eyebrow. “The slime’s still following you around? I half-expected it’d have tried to eat someone’s head off.”

Olivai failed to not look guilty, directing her attention towards the goodies on display. “Yes, Miro’s been quite good-tempered thus far. Any chance there’s something else you’d recommend for its tastes? I’m aware slimes aren’t picky,” She added, forestalling Bordi as he opened his mouth. “But I’m sure there’s some kind of food they prefer.”

“Well, they’s got an appetite fer anythin’ with a crapload o’ fleyver. Don’t matter if’n it’s good or bad, so long as it busts the tongue right out yer mouth.”

They both turned to find Donnel scratching some dirt off his footpaws. The dwarf ambled over to a table and awkwardly scrambled up, giving Olivai a cheeky grin. “Mornin’, ma’am. Yer slime’s lookin’ like a fresh-cut gem.”

Olivai frowned. “Hello, sleight. Thank you for the compliment, but I believe Bordi’s got this handled.” Turning back to Bordi, she smiled. “My apologies. What were you saying?”

Bordi was already shaking his head. “Pardon me, priestess, but Donnel’d know more than I do. I can’t stand slimes, no offense.”

Olivai seemed to consider her options for a moment, then turned to Donnel with a sigh. “Fine. What was your suggestion? And please try to phrase it clearly.”

Donnel slid off his chair, leaving a not-insignificant amount of dirt behind. Ignoring Bordi’s resigned groan, he made his way over to Miro and crouched next to it. “Ya see, slimes ain’t got five taste buds in their whole body. Ya gotta give ‘em sump'n’ with so much flavor they can’t help but taste it. Make sense?”

Miro felt like that was incorrect. The tarts from yesterday had practically exploded with flavor insofar as Miro was concerned. Maybe there was more flavor to be eaten?

Rolling her eyes, Olivai turned to the counter and found Bordi missing. The shopkeeper finished scooping the dirt Donnel had left behind into a small pan. Dumping it into a nearby can, he dusted his hands off and returned to the counter. “That out of the way, is there anything else you’d like?”

Olivai considered the options once more. “What would you say the most flavorful item on your menu is?”

With a subject he was familiar with on the table, Bordi swept them both into his element. “Well, there’s a number of treats I could set you up with. There’s doughnuts, which is a recently invented creation over in Carodai Melas, bit sticky but they taste great. You could get a cake if you’re expecting to finish it, plenty of flavor on those and just as much variety. On the other hand there’s a snack I actually came up with. Little bit o’ bread dough sweetened, rolled into a ball and baked, it’s like a miniature cake. I’m thinking of calling them cakies, although my niece says I should call ‘em mini-cakes. Given that she’s my niece I’m naturally going to sell them as mini-cakes, but you know how it is, kids and all that.”

Olivai was beginning to look a bit overwhelmed and Donnel had an awed grin on his small face, but Bordi was nowhere near done. “There’s the tarts you ordered yesterday, those are always popular and they come in just about every flavor of fruit you care to name. No vegetables though, the customers didn’t like those very much. We got a number of different pastries on hand, although we’d have to - just a moment.” Leaning back, he shouted, “Danbur! What’ve we got that’s fresh-baked?”

A head poked out from the door leading to the backroom. Danbur had uneven gray skin, with thin dreadlocks pulled back into a braid. A pair of sharp teeth jutted up from his lower jaw, and his purple eyes were wide and alert. “Sir! I just finished a batch of morning rolls. They just left the-” His eyes slid down to Miro and he paused mid-sentence. “Is that a slime?”

“Danbur!” Bordi roared, and the orc snapped back to attention. “Give a dozen of the rolls a chocolate glaze and caramelize the other twelve. Wrap the chocolate ones and get ‘em out here as fast as you can!”

Danbur gave a sharp thumbs-up and disappeared back into the kitchen. Bordi swung back around to Olivai, his voice dropping into a far calmer register. “How does that sound?”

Olivai uncovered her ears and smiled nicely. “Those sound delightful, thank you very much. How long do you think they’ll take?”

Bordi huffed irritably. “Less than a minute, if Danbur’s doing his job right. I swear, orcs have got more muscle in their fingers than they do between their ears. Decent kid, though. Pretty durrn helpful in the morning rush, if you’ll pardon my language.”

Nodding politely, Olivai asked, “Has he been settling in alright? I didn’t know any orc clans were nearby.”

Bordi made a noise of realization. “Right, you’ve only been here a few months. Didn’t that paladin come here with you? Are you two a couple?”

Olivai turned bright red, and Miro released a worried burble. She’d turned that color earlier when she’d fallen down and the slime wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. “I assure you we are not! He’s a very old and very good friend of mine, that’s all.”

Waving it away, Bordi continued, “Anyway, Danbur and his sister came to Caro Lias when their tribe kicked ‘em out. Clams up tighter than a vault whenever I ask ‘im about it, but hey, that’s none of my business.”

“I could do some diggin’,” Donnel promptly volunteered. Nobody paid any attention to him.

Danbur came out of the door with a pair of thick gloves on his hands. He was dressed in an soot-stained apron and a sleeveless shirt, along with a pair of the toughest-looking pants Miro had seen yet. He was holding a tray, from the top of which emanated a smell that Miro’s taste could only hope to try and describe.

Setting the tray down, Danbur used a flat piece of metal to quickly and skillfully scoop a dozen chocolate-covered pieces of what Miro had no accurate name for into a small bag. Folding the top, he breathlessly presented it to Bordi, who promptly gave it to Olivai. “Here’s your snacks, priestess. And, er… if your slime follows orders at all?”

She glanced up from the bag. “Yes?”

Bordi glared at Miro. “Tell it to stay out of my storerooms. Pet or not, I can’t afford to give second chances.”

Miro squeaked nervously, sliding behind Olivai. She took a step back and almost stepped on Miro, barely avoiding it. “I’ll certainly keep that in mind.” Turning around, she hurriedly left Bordi’s shop, unaware as Donnel followed her. Miro definitely noticed, but didn’t exactly have a say in the matter.

Once outside, Donnel jogged next to Olivai. “If’n ye don’t mind my intrudin’, ma’am, do ye mind if I look ‘is majesty over? Fella’s actin’ a mite strange.”

Olivai briefly looked alarmed, protectively putting herself between Miro and Donnel. “Definitely not! Miro’s just hungry.”

Well, Miro thought to itself, there were a number of things it was trying to work through. More specifically, abandonment by the person who summoned it, the concept of being a failure to Olivai, and the looming crisis of whether or not it was even supposed to exist. It clearly wasn’t a normal slime, according to Olivai and Otto. So what was it?

But yes, its hunger was definitely a problem to be aware of.

It was distracted from its thoughts as Olivai pulled one of the fresh-baked treats out, offering it to Miro. The slime happily bounced up and wrapped its mouth around Olivai’s arm, taking the treat right out of her hand and plopping to the ground.

It was an entirely different experience from the tarts, but relatively similar to the red-wrapped snack that had been underneath Olivai’s bed. The difference was instantly noticeable, however. Where those had been small and hard, bearing hints of mild staleness, this was warm and sticky, melting in Miro’s mouth and spreading nice feelings all through its body. Combined with the crisp buttery crunch of the pastry beneath it, Miro had a difficult time thinking of a better snack. Granted, it’d only tasted… what, four flavors in its whole life?

Olivai gestured to Miro. “See? It’s all right.”

Donnel squinted at Miro skeptically. “Nah, that ain’t what I’m talkin’ ‘bout. Appetite’s one thing, but mannerisms another. That slime should’ve been tryin’ ta take yer hand off at the wrist. Ain’t nobody can train a slime not to in two days, an’ that includes Donnel the First. So what’s ‘is majesty’s deal?” He leaned forward, folding his arms and jutting his head upward.

Olivai took a step back, and Miro bounced up into her grasp. She nearly dropped Miro, but managed to keep a hold on the bag with the food in it. Shifting her grip, she asked, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I have better things to do.”

Turning around, she began walking away from him. Angling its vision around her arms, Miro saw Donnel.

He was watching them leave, eyes narrowed in thought.