Falkir found himself standing in the same spot he had stood in for the last several days. He wondered how long it would be before his cane had worn a socket for itself in the middle of the doorway. Of course, he wouldn’t stay here today. The first day, there had been mixed hope and confusion and he’s stuck around for most of the day. But now, three days into the failed summoning, he only came to check on the room every few hours.
The most annoying part was that he still didn’t understand what had happened. The Ritual of Summoning had been laid out according to the prescribed rules. The manual had been clear that there would be a lag between when the Summoning was launched and when it was answered. The world that Heroes came from was not in sync with the Hundred Continents, or at least that was what the Void Scholars had speculated those centuries ago when the first Hero was Summoned. But the manual was clear about what it looked like while the Summoning was still outstanding and what the Summoning circle looked like when it was completed. The green and blue flames currently glowing in the center of this room were what a completed Summoning looked like.
So why wasn’t there a Hero? They were supposed to emerge in the center of the circle holding the pendant of the Goddess and ready to embark on their divine quest. They had arranged things so perfectly. Falkir was here to train the nascent Hero for what the Archduchy needed. The Archduke was to give various tasks around the realm to help strengthen both the nation and the Hero so that they would eventually be ready to fulfill the grand task that needed doing. Yet there was nothing! The Summoning had been placed in a guarded wing of the palace, and only trusted guards had been stationed here. Yet they had consistently reported that no Hero had ever appeared.
A clanking reached his ears and a tickle of incense wafted down the hall. The chains of the thurifer wrapped around his body rattled as Canon Casimir rounded the corner and approached. Falkir rolled his eyes. “It’s a good thing you Canons aren’t turned to for stealth.”
Casimir, as always, took the joke as well as if he’d found a trace of scat on his boot. “Let a thief sneak and hide. The Goddess will guide my passage. I will gladly trade the illusion of secrecy for her protection.”
Falkir growled and gestured at the empty Summoning circle. “The goddess’s protection was supposed to come with a bit more personnel.”
Casimir nodded. “It was. But someone else intervened. I have been given a vision. We are calling a meeting of the Archduke’s Council to discuss the contents.” He smiled. “I look forward to our continued partnership.”
Falkir smiled. This was good news.
*******
Unlike many other nobles, it was rare for the Archduke to actually participate in Council Meetings. Instead, he would hand down decisions in written form a day or so after the meetings. His voice was slow and halting, the man struggling with a speech impediment. “Bbbbefore wwe ddddiscuss further, I wwwwould hear offff the vvvvision.”
Casimir nodded. “Of course, Your Grace. As always, I was drawn in my sleep into the Hall of Kibiri, the mirrors showing me the state of my soul. It is an inspiring sight for one who has dedicated his whole life to the Goddess. She appeared to me as an azure paladin. The Church teaches that such a manifestation is an indication of her wrath. She cast at my feet the symbol of a hero, the same token that was used as a focus of the previous Summoning. It was still in her possession instead of passed along whoever answered the last spell. With a gesture, she bade me pick up the token.” Casimir reached into his cassock and pulled out the badge he had been talking about, to audible gasps in the room. It was identical, which given that the original spell had rendered it a unique item provided veracity to his claims. The badge had clearly been returned. “As a column of blazing blue fire consumed her, she spoke only one word. ‘Again.’
“As you know, the Church maintains records of the Goddess’s visions along with guides for interpreting them. If you would like, I could expound on them.”
While Falkir was slightly interested – there was always value in more knowledge, especially of the gods – he could tell that the room as a whole was not inclined to ask the canon to discuss further. Casimir noticed this too and gave an indulgent smile. “Understandable. Suffice it to say, the messages were clear. The Goddess is displeased with the failure of the previous Summoning but does not hold us at fault. The return of the badge indicates two things. Without her token, the Church has officially declared that whoever entered the previous Summoning is a False Hero, an enemy to Kibiri. Second, and more important to us, since she returned it to us, she wishes for us to recast the Summoning. Her words are the strongest sign of that, as the gods rarely speak in their visions.”
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Predictably, it was the Chancellor who raised objections first. “Recast the Summoning? What a preposterous idea!” He turned to the Archduke. “Your Grace, I know you were confused by the Archmage and Canon’s argument the first time, but this is simply intolerable. The solution to our problem will not be found in a mythic Hero coming in to save the Kingdom.” He gestured to the handful of nobles in the room who had taken up roles in the government. “Victory in war is always a matter of economics. Armies, cities, towns, fortresses. Administration and organization are the key to success. An individual is always less than the collective, no matter how powerful.”
The Chancellor turned to glare at Falkir and Casimir, who sat next to each other in this meeting. “With the resources squandered on this failed Summoning, we could have built three fortresses in the Southern March, equipped a company with enchanted arms and armor, or reinforced the warding on the Goregan Mire for another century, allowing us to reassign the bulk of the Countess Asher’s forces. Now they want more? Why should the court bankrupt ourselves in pursuit of a magical flight of fancy?!”
Casimir’s hushed voice remained calm. “Perhaps the nature of my goddess’s support is not clear to you, Chancellor. The Church of Honor has in its repository two full skulls. The hierophant is already making arrangements to send one of them here, to serve as a focus for a replacement enchantment.”
Falkir stepped into the explanation smoothly. “With a full skull to serve as a focus for the enchantment, the required investment will be minimal. It should not be as difficult to secure the resources as it was last time. A Hero would make a powerful return on that investment.”
“And all we need to do is bend the knee to the Church of Honor!” The Chancellor protested, but he received little support for that objection around the room. At the idea of the Church footing the bulk of the bill, most of the Council seemed inclined to permit the second summoning.
Casimir shook his head sadly. “Chancellor, the Church has no armies or territory. We are no threat to the sovereignty of Dagva. That is why your alliance has brought us in to oppose the void mages. We already have the prime seat in your temples, we will ask for nothing further.
When the Chancellor made to continue, a new voice cut him off. “Dwain, that will be enough. We thank you for your perspective, but further bickering will not increase our knowledge.” The voice belonged to the newest member of the Council, the Archduke’s latest paramour, Teirin. Falkir didn’t know much about her, but was glad for what appeared to be another voice in support of the plan.
While technically nothing was decided that evening, a clear majority of the Archduke’s advisors favored recasting the Summoning with the aid of the Church of Honor. Only the Chancellor was actually opposed, although several others were ambivalent. Falkir left the meeting fully convinced that the Archduke would follow the majority and send word approving the recasting.
“Archmage, I wonder if I could have a word with you.” Teirin caught up to him a few steps down the hall. “Forgive me if this sounds like an impertinent question, but I was wondering where you were trained.”
Falkir stopped and looked at the woman in surprise. “Certainly an unusual question, but not offensive. My education wasn’t unusual though. My basic instruction was done in the capital decades ago, and my advanced studies were in Gault. Why do you ask?”
Teirin looked disappointed. “Ah, well. Too bad. I had hoped you might have some contact with the Church of the Mind. The Archduke is troubled by how the other spell was disrupted. He worries that any recast could have the same flaw. Ulenia’s scholars would have a better chance of figuring out what happened than Kibiri’s paladins.”
Falkir laughed. “I couldn’t even tell you where a temple to Ulenia was. I know of none in this cluster of continents. You could try talking to Casimir. The Church may be willing to reach out to her sister.” He didn’t hold out much hope for that, however. He could see on her face that Teirin didn’t either. “My own knowledge of magic not inconsiderable, my lady. I may be able to discern something by analyzing the relic returned by the Goddess.”
Without another word, the paramour turned and headed back into the council chambers, where the Archduke presumably was waiting for her. Watching her voluptuous figure, Falkir could not understand how the Archduke did it. They were nearly peers in age, yet the Archduke never failed to be surrounded by some of the most attractive women Falkir had ever seen, including nobles wealthy enough to have been sculpted by Body magic! This wasn’t the first he had invited into his Council, they often served as his voice in the chamber. He wished he could have given her a better answer. But Ulenia’s Church was notoriously hard to find outside of a few central locations, and the nearest of those was thousands of miles away.
With a sigh, Falkir turned back to his path back to his quarters. The blasted void mage coup had shut down the gate network in the part of Dagva that didn’t stay loyal to their puppet King, so Falkir had no choice but to remain in the Archduke’s palace. He missed his own bed.