The hour of the people still was an odd thing to the young king at times. The people had such marginal issues to solve. A peasant wailed about a cow that died. This loss was having a significant influence on his livestock, his income. Come to think of it, his very existence. What did it matter to the king? The royal house had plenty of farms with lots of livestock. One or two dead animals did not matter to Elsurion. But to this man, the difference of one cow could mean everything. Elsurion did not know such kind of sorrow. Many citizens noted, that there were still too many stray children, primarily boys and young men. Most of them turned to criminals eventually. Elsurion had opened another foster home for these children, an additional one was already under construction. All the strays…the most common crime was thievery and dead children due to gang wars. There was just not enough guard presence on the streets, not enough patrols. Solaria’s military still was battered from the last war against Halvoria. Although, ‘battered’, was not the correct description. ‘Still recovering’, would be more accurate. Elsurion still found, that the war was un-called for. The king wished he could ask his father for a way out of this mess. Sure, Elsurion had advisors. He, admittedly, tended to forget that. They told him to build more foster homes, advertise military careers et cetera. The king heeded their counsel, but the people still complained. Elsurion was also advised to show more presence, hold speeches, tell the folk that he was caring. After his father’s funeral, Elsurion barely appeared in public outside of the hour of the people. The young king preferred to spend the little spare time he had studying the little spell book or daydreaming in his chambers. Speaking of the spell book: It was time to summon the familiar. The sorcerer took the spell book out of its hiding place and opened it slowly and read his notes from the time the spell was taught to him:

The familiar:

This spell summons an obedient creature. The obedience is determined by whose blood is used to draw the runes. Though not sentient, the familiar will do all it can to fulfil the orders given.

Notes:

- Only use the blood of a single person.

- The familiar is harder to sustain, the further it departs from the owner of the blood it is made of. It will, eventually, die. This is especially true if the familiar is given complex orders, such as being used as mouthpiece or being controlled directly.

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- Control can not be transferred, once summoned.

Elsurion let out a heavy sigh. Partially due to nostalgia, partially because the king forgot about the limited range the familiar had. Additionally, all the sorcerer could summon with the spell, was a raven. The good thing was, that the spell would not leave traces. His chambers were cleaned daily, the king did not want to give his ‘secret’ away. “Here goes nothing”, he said, more to himself.

The sorcerer took out a knife. It was no ordinary knife, but a decorated one. A rune was carved into the blade. This rune was called ‘Anu’ri’. The rune would intensify the spells effect. Elsurion cut his arm and let warm blood pour into a bowl. It was painful, but sacrifices had to be made. When the bowl was full, the king patched up the cut with a few bandages, Elsurion was taught to keep a few in his sanctum for such occasions. He dipped his index finger into the bowl and began to draw the runes in around him. Ba’hnu, the rune for a creature, Ajir, the rune of life and Vu’ha, the rune for a summoning. The sorcerer connected them in a circle with a line. Interestingly, the runes did not determine what kind creature would be summoned. That was up to the sorcerer himself. He was to intensely think of the creature that should be summoned. Elsurion took a moment to admire his work, then went on to activate the spell by pronouncing the runes out loud: “Ba’hnu. Ajir. Vu’ha. Zach'Aljim!”

He quickly stepped out of the circle, otherwise, he was taught, he would be mixed into the spell itself. This could prove lethal. Or worse. A bright, red light emerged from the circle. The blood used to draw the runes began to boil and jerk towards the centre. The blood merged in the middle and began to take form. A construct of veins, similar to a web, appeared before Elsurion. The web got tighter and tighter, until the king could make out clear outlines of a bird. Flesh appeared between the strings and black feathers began to sprout. The raven gave a short caw to the king, seemingly, it’d found it’s voice. Deep, black eyes stared at the king, obediently. A smile appeared on Elsurion’s mouth. This creature, the raven, was of course not ‘technically alive’. But to the king, it was a real bird. Almost like a pet. The king stroked over the raven’s feathers, it came natural to him. Elsurion always wanted to have a pet raven, but his father, sadly, never let him have one. The sorcerer sighed and reached out with his arm. Instantly, the raven obeyed the command and took a seat there. The stroked over the raven’s feathers once more. One could feel so lonely, despite being surrounded by servants, advisors and all kinds of different people. Elsurion opened a window and thought of Sarenya’s face, as deeply as he could, then, Elsurion let the raven fly. Should the familiar be successful, the sorcerer would feel it.

“Please, find her quickly.”, the king whispered.