As the squire staggered backwards, trying to regain his balance, the knight stepped forward intimidatingly, causing the demoness to hiss as she attempted to back away. Without a moment's hesitation, the knight backhanded her with his plate gauntlet, knocking her unconscious and sending her sliding across the floor.
After ensuring that she was unconscious, by giving her a few not so gentle kicks, the knight lifted her up by the silver collar and turned around, holding her at arm's length, as if expecting the demoness to wake up and attack him at any moment. "Capture successful. Demoness, second stage."
The moment the words left his mouth, a small cheer erupted from the surrounding knights, while the mages, who had stopped their chanting, immediately pulled out bottles of dark blue liquid and began downing them as they massaged their sore throats. Even though this was only the first summoning, all of them were showing the early signs of fatigue, having to catch their breath and wipe sweat from their faces.
“Make sure she is secured and move her to the transportation array,” commanded Harken, relief at their first success evident on his face. “However, do not injure them more than necessary, they may have an intimidating heritage, but they are weaker than a newborn elf. Without the residual power from the ritual, they wouldn't even be able to breathe easily, let alone move.”
After handing the demoness to two knights, who promptly shackled her legs and arms before carrying her over dimly glowing, yellow array, the knight stomped over to the young squire that had placed the collar on her neck. “James, get your act together. The collars only work if the slave can understand the command and, to make matters worse, that was a bloody demon. You're going to get yourself killed.”
A few of the other knights chuckled at this, causing the atmosphere to significantly lighten, but Rynheart only shook his head and leant towards Harken. “He has a point you know. A demon is a demon, and that is not even the worst that could come out of that damn device. A commander shouldn't let his men get too complacent, it will get them killed.”
Harken’s smile faded. “I guess you are right, old friend, but we can't have them getting too heavy handed either. From the small amount of information the Sun Council provided, due to their soul's unique nature and the dimension they existed in before, the summoned will learn and grow at a phenomenal rate. We don't want to make things harder for ourselves in the long run by turning them against us."
“Great, not only do they have the potential to become some of the strongest beings in Acoria, but they could have the intelligence to match,” sighed Rynheart. “You know the slave collars are not perfect, there are ways to get around most of the restrictions, especially if you have the physical and mental fortitude to withstand the initial pain. We should just get them bound to a demonic pact and be done with it."
"And where are you going to find this high ranking demon? Are you volunteering to lead an expedition into the Demonic Plains and capture one? Until today I have never seen one in the flesh, only heard about them from the court's battlemages or in stories intended to scare children into obedience." Harken's voice was much harsher than he intended. "Sorry, I understand and share your concerns, but we have to work with what we have. With any luck, and if the Sun Clan does not claim her, this demoness will evolve along the noble variant branch, and we will be able to use her for pacts. Until then, we will just have to treat the collars as an uncertain fail-safe and be extra careful with how we handle the summoned while ensuring they bond with their trainers and the other combat slaves."
"Your sisters have been on about that anti-slavery, equal rights nonsense again haven't they? You really need to stop pandering to their wants; you're a king now," huffed Rynheart.
“A wise king should be willing to take council from even the oddest of advisers,” responded Harken. “Times are changing, and the inflexibility of my father is one of the reasons why we have been forced into this... predicament.”
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On the opposite side of the room, after making sure that no one was paying any attention, an older looking boy approached James and revealed a mischievous smile. "Hey, Mr. Lovestruck, that was utterly pathetic. I can't tell what is sadder, the fact that your first love isn't even a day old, or that she belongs to a species that could rip your heart out in the time it would take you to blink.”
"Why don't you go back to chatting up three-hundred-year-old elves with great grandchildren old enough to be your father instead of criticising others?" sulked James, still upset about the scolding he received from his master.
The boy stealthily elbowed James to the side. "That only happened once and you know you would have done the same; She had the cutest ears I have ever seen and legs to die for."
"You nearly did," chuckled James as he gave a quick elbow back. "Sexy, experienced and an army of ex-lovers and jealous, overly protective partners. Anyway, get your mind out the gutter. Can't we have a single conversation that doesn't revolve around women or your bestial urges?"
Rubbing where James' elbow had landed, the other squire faked a hurt expression. “What do you want to talk about instead? Swords? Magic? What about farming? God, you're sixteen, not six; grow up and listen to your hormones.”
The two squires continued their quiet banter as Harken’s gaze flickered across the room, ensuring that everyone was ready. “Let's get a move on, we have thirty-one more to go, and only a single night to get it done."
Meanwhile, outside on the seemingly peaceful mountainside, the chilling light of two moons intermingled, bathing the ground in their icy glow as two battlemages stood in the midst of over ninety knights, guarding the summoning rituals entrance.
After several hours had passed, the majority of the soldiers, which happened to be the sons of high-ranking nobles, who had forced their way onto the king's honour guard, were standing around the small sentry fires trying to stay awake by making idle chatter. Only a dozen or so men, including the battlemages, sought to keep their vigilance, but the causal conversations and peaceful, unchanging scenery was gradually dulling their senses.
The two battlemages were dressed in a mixture of robes and plate armour, displaying their ability to use magic and fight in close quarters combat. They had just finished a discussion on the fundamentals of earth magic, mainly to keep themselves awake before once again returning to the topic they were most curious about.
The man closest to the entrance appeared to stretch lazily. However, his eyes maintained a sharp look as they habitually surveyed the surroundings, watching for the slightest hint of danger. “Why the hell do they have us guarding this damn hole in the ground anyway? I wonder if they found some sort of artefact from before the Great Cataclysm?”
“Shhh,” cautioned the other battle mage. “Most of the guards here are nobles looking to curry favour with our new king. Don't want to give the pipsqueaks a reason to try and use us as a stepping stone. If we were meant to know, we would have been told.”
A gentle breeze floated down from the mountain and, as it passed by the sentry fires, if one were paying enough attention, they would be able to see a strange, green hint to the air.
"Hah, if you randomly picked a hundred children, most of them you could train into knights, maybe three or four could become mages and maybe, maybe... one would become a battlemage. We’re too valuable to the kingdom to be discredited by pathetic noble welps, fresh from their mother's skirt. We're practically untouchable," laughed the first battlemage, drawing a few annoyed looks from the surrounding knights.
On the slope above them, a hundred meters from the closest guard, five shadowy figures crouched low to the floor, swaying in perfect sync with the breeze as their cold, merciless eyes watched the men below.
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