Chapter 23 : Call Me (Patreon)

Mnemon Rhomon, Sorcerer

Realm Year 764, Resplendent Wood

Approaching Thousand Dragons Lake, An-Teng, Satrapy of the Realm

Thaumaturgical summoning was a potent and diverse field. Animals, demons, elementals, gods- the ability to beckon an entity was sorta the equivalent of a magical ping, giving them an invitation to show up and grandstand. There was somewhat more utility against animals, who had simple minds and were thus very easy to hypnotize and command around, but they generally had less mystic powers than spirits so it balanced out.

In addition to the above, thaumaturgical summoning could also be used to beckon people. Mortals, humans- he wasn’t sure if the method would work on Fae or some of the more exotic nonhuman mortals, but it definitely worked on humans and beastmen.

It also worked on members of the Exalted. 

The limitations of summoning mortals was twofold. Firstly, it did not allow you more generalized command over them. Mortals had complex minds and reincarnating souls- sometimes multiple reincarnating souls- hypnotizing them required more advanced magics than mere thaumaturgy would permit. 

Secondly, it did not conjure them into existence before you like it would demons or gods. Like animals and elementals, mortals were creatures of the physical world, and had to physically travel to the site of their summoning under their own power. Ghosts were weird, simultaneously everywhere but also stuck on their side of reality in the Underworld, he was ignoring them for the moment.

Exalts, as bearers of three souls, Higher, Lower, and Exaltation, were so magically potent as to make compelling them to heed a summoning almost impossible. If an Exalt didn’t want to show up to your summoning, then they probably wouldn’t. Only the most willful thaumaturge could beckon exalts, and even then they were usually on the weaker or younger ends.

However, there was a side benefit. Rhomon wasn’t sure if it was by virtue of some inherent property of having three souls or due to protections built into their exaltation by the Great Maker, but Exalts always knew that someone was attempting to summon them, and who it was.

You also needed to know their exact, real name for the summoning to even have a chance of working, but that was less a limitation and more just part of the process. You also usually needed a tiny sample from the subject to enact the summoning, but that was for the purpose of forging a sympathetic link to them.

Sex with a subject was usually ‘good enough’ as far as forging sympathetic magical links.

What he was doing was more or less just a fancy phone call, in short, telling his recent powerful contact in the region that he was requesting her help for something. He had no way of actually forcing her to heed the summoning, and both of them knew that, and she was smart enough to know that he wouldn’t just summon her for no reason.

“So what manner of beast are you summoning up, sorcerer?” Brahm asked as they pulled to the side of the road overlooking the immense lake. Miles of road before and behind them stretched with no signs of habitation, making this just about the safest spot for him to try this. 

“A very old, very intelligent, very powerful beast.” Rhomon explained simply, dragging his staff around him in a circle and then placing stones along the rim, scratching a name into the keystone in Old Ream.

‘Khadarys Shadow-Dancer’

He didn’t know what kind of music she’d like, so he decided to buy the oldest, most traditional one he could find at Jade Plum Citadel when they were passing by. A long flute of bone and silver. The locals believed silver to be a metal that could keep ghosts and evil spirits at bay, which was about half true. 

“...So what kind of beast actually is it?” Siata asked, tapping on his chin and then gesturing towards the lake. “You didn’t actually answer that.”

“I only caught a glimpse while I was down there last time, so I can’t be entirely sure.” Rhomon began to weave a lie of omission. “Somewhere between a shark, tiger, and otter, and about as big as a house.” 

“...You didn’t fight it, did you?” Shuri asked with a frown and concerned furrow to his brow.

“Dragons no.” Rhomon shook his head, settling down into the middle of the circle and checking all the lines once more. “It wouldn’t be a fight, it would’ve just torn me apart if I had tried that. No, I stayed quite respectful of its territory, and left as soon as my purpose was done.”

“You risked death to some great beast for the carnal company of some nymphs?” Siata asked with a mirthful grin. 

“And a few trinkets!” Rhomon waggled his finger at the amused Dragonblooded sitting on the cart. “I wasn’t intending to have sex that day- it was payment for those artifacts that helped us find the House of Hale Mind!”

“If only I could pay with such means to every beautiful sort bartering talismans.” Siata chuckled. “You have a gift cousin, a gift!”

“I’d rather pay with jade, honestly. I think I’d start to feel a little used after the third or fourth spirit asks for sex in payment.” Rhomon mused, to which Siata threw his whole body back in uproarious laughter. 

“What a pretty lake!” Swan commented with an absent smile, looking out over Thousand Dragons Lake and the waves that rolled across its surface. “I’ve been to a similar one, I think. I used to relax on its beaches with sugared peaches and plum wine…” His voice trailed off wistfully. “...We’ll have to do that again, all of us, sometime soon.”

“All of us, honored elder?” Rhomon asked as he inspected the flute and readied himself to start playing. What did he mean by that?

“We and your mothers, we haven’t taken a family sabbatical in some time…” Swan Dragon’s brows furrowed. “...I can’t remember when it was, last time. Before your births, I think. We should’ve gone sooner, but I’ve been so busy…”

Oh. He was still caught up in the lie they told the Silver Crowned. Rhomon would have to clear that up once his mind was in order.

“We’ll be glad to go, once you’re recovered, grandfather.” Siata assured in a kindly manner, nodding down at the old dragon. “There’s some villas along the southern coasts we can stay at!”

The deranged elemental smiled, staring out over the waters. He reached up to clutch at the compass around his neck, his brows furrowed in concentration. “Once I’m recovered… That’s right… We’re going somewhere in An-Teng, aren’t we?”

“We’re in An-Teng already, honored elder.” Brahm reminded gently. 

The dragon looked around in confusion, casting his gaze across the lake, up and down the disdain mountains, and to the thin jungle that surrounded this section of lakeside road. “This doesn’t look like An-Teng… Perhaps I’m misremembering…?”

“It has been some time since you were here last.” Rhomon offered, to which the old dragon slowly nodded. With that and his inspections complete, Rhomon began to play the flute, letting the music drift listlessly over the rolling waters. A gentle, alluring tune with an underscore of tension.

“...We’re going somewhere… Would you remind me where again?” The dragon muttered, clinging to the compass. The large array of talismans made little tinking noises as they collided around his neck. 

“To the House of Hale Mind, honored elder.” Shuri said with a smile and bow, offering a cracker with potted meat and sealing fat. “Please, have a snack.”

“Oh, thank you, god-son.” Swan accepted the snack gratefully, and returned his gaze to the waters, chewing absently. “I don’t know your parent, do I? Forgive me if I do, my mind is foggy these days.”

“I would be surprised if you did, honored elder.”

He was a little bit stressed, as he played the flute and let the summoning attempt to beckon the powerful exalt from her lake bed. He had no idea if they were already being followed or not, and whether or not the assassin would strike again, or where. 

If she decided against helping, resisting the summoning and keeping her privacy, then…

—

…He’d be in significantly more trouble. Throat sore and fingers aching, he gently lowered the flute and set it down in his lap, staring over the shadowed lake. The sun was beginning to set in the western sky, and the orange-gold light simmered across the surface of the massive freshwater lake. 

“...Did you mess up the summoning?” Brahm asked with arms crossed. Behind them, Siata and Shuri sparred, swords clashing gently as they went through shared forms. Swan was mumbling to his Familiar, words that Rhomon was too focused to try to parse out. 

“No, I didn’t mess it up.” Rhomon creaked out with a sore throat, looking over the rolling waves. He should’ve anticipated this, honestly, there was no reason for her to leave for his sake. He had already received a few gifts from her that even allowed this venture to be as promising as it was, and she had stayed in hiding for nearly fifteen hundred years now.

He had no excuse for despondence here.

“It just didn’t show up.” He muttered, slowly pushing up from his kneeling position. His legs cracked and ached as he rose, and he swayed briefly. The monk caught his sleeve and steadied him.

“...So, what are we going to do?” Brahm asked, pulling the hand away.

Standing on the jungle shore of a freshwater sea, hair blowing in the breeze, so close to his first objective and yet with miles of jungle and danger left before them… 

Rhomon forced himself to sigh and relax. “It looks like Fate is building up for a properly tense climax, don’t you think?” He asked, turning to the monk with a toothy grin. Despite his words and expression, a knot of tension tightened in his gut. “The Maidens love their drama, don’t they?”

“I don’t believe the Five Maidens of Fate are personally arbitrating the destiny of a single sorcerer, Rhomon.” Brahm replied dryly, following him back up the sloped shore and to their cart. “They likely have secretaries and understudies for that.”

“I should lodge a formal complaint sometime.” Rhomon joked and shook his head. “It’s clearly my destiny to accomplish everything I want with no struggle or setback- do they not know this? Are they stupid?”

“I will write that on your funerary plate.” The monk nodded solemnly, making Rhomon laugh. 

“Huh- cousin, did the summoning not work?” Siata asked, bare chested and blinking over at him, sword in both hands.

“So it seems. Maybe I was just imagining things down there.” Rhomon shrugged it off, climbing into the back of the cart and reaching for the potted meat and crackers. He was pretty hungry. 

“Or it wasn’t a beast.” Brahm muttered, casting a suspicious glance back at the shores of the lake. A guarded note lingered in his tone. “I’d be more wary of large unidentifiable monsters lingering in wild places if I were you, Sorcerer.”

“Hey now- who is the sorcerer here? Who went to the Heptagram?” Rhomon gestured at himself with a slightly annoyed expression. “I know perfectly well what I’m doing, monk.”

“So what are we doing? The summoning didn’t work and this Peleps Galan is doubtlessly still looking to take revenge upon us.” The monk asked again, more directly narrowed eyes. “What’s your plan? To request a guard from the locals? To try bargaining with some bribeable spirit? Summoning something else?”

“I tell you what we’re going to do. We’re going to abandon this cart.” Rhomon said bluntly, taking up bags of supplies and hoisting them over his shoulder.

“What? Why?” Siata asked in faint alarm.

“The main roads are doubtlessly going to have Galan’s agents upon it, who we will like to avoid. Thankfully, we have the compass to our destination around the old man’s neck, so we can skip straight through the countryside instead.” Rhomon began, tossing bags towards the nonplussed dragonblooded. “Start putting these over the ram lizard-”

“-Bollock.” Siata corrected.

“-would you?” Rhomon tossed over bags to Shuri and then to the monk. Once the cart was mostly cleaned off, he stepped off and slipped the essence visor over his eyes, focusing on the process of attunement once more. 

“What about your jade? There’s still another five or six bags in here.” Brahm asked, raising a brow at the coinage.

Rhomon blinked as the essence visor came to life, and the unseen world of flowing essence was suddenly revealed to him. Colors and shapes abound, slightly disorienting his vision. He reached over and opened the compass on Swan Dragon’s neck, letting the string of essence drift up and out, pointing at some manse many dozens of miles away.

He glanced at the jade coins, slightly glowing with their ambient magics, and then quickly looked around. 

Looking to the jungle growth around, and the invisible, immaterial spirits that lingered lazily in the boughs and looked down upon them curiously, Rhomon pointed a finger at the bags of jade. “Whoever is willing to bless us with easier passage through the wilderness for a few days gets all that jade as a sacrifice.” 

The blunt proposition was met with confused silence, then exchanged glances amongst themselves and then looks back down at him. He nodded again. “Yes I’m talking to you, dyrads.” He confirmed with a roll of his hand. “Come on now- whoever is willing to bless us the most in this regard gets the whole lot.”

Another moment of confusion lingered, then a crack-pop happened as one of the dryads became material. A man with barklike skin and leaves for hair. “Hey- I’ll take that-”

Another snap-pop as a different dyrad, in a separate tree, materialized. “His blessings are impotent- I’ll give you one that can really get you moving!” A female this time, with acorn piercings and resin teeth.

“You stay out of this- I accepted it first!”

Another series of crack-pops sounded out as they materialized and started a fearsome bidding war for who among them would get the sacrifice.

Brahm looked distinctly unimpressed with him.

—

“How much further, do you think?” Siata asked, pulling the ram lizard that carried most of their stuff along by the leash. The blessing the winning dryad has bestowed upon them had no real apparent effect, but Rhomon could tell their travel was noticeably easier than the last time they had to move through the jungles of An-Teng.

The insects were less numerous, the paths were often drier, the rivers had convenient crossings made of stone or fallen logs, and similar bits of happenstantial fortune littered their journey through the wilderness.

The effect absolutely wasn’t worth five and a half bags of jade coin, but he needed to get rid of the money anyways and this was a good enough way to manage that. He made a note to seek out a spell that made travel through the wilderness easier- he remembered reading about one back at the Heptagram that looked promising.

Not that the travel was all that hard while wearing these magnificent boots, but it made things a lot easier for his companions. Swan Dragon was seated up on the ram lizard’s back so he wouldn’t have to walk, but the rest of them were footdragging through dense vegetation and upwards of a foot of jungle water at times. 

“Well now that you asked that question, fate is tempted to respond with ‘never’.” Rhomon replied dryly, keeping an eye on their surroundings with his familiar’s keen vision. Up ahead, Shuri cleaved through shrubbery to allow them to pass through, something he had been doing without obvious strain for up to four hours at a time between breaks.

“I recognized the creek earlier. We’re approaching it from an off-angle, maybe an hour away.” Shuri called back with a cheerful expression. “We’ll be there before you know it, Sir Siata.”

“Off angle… Ah.” Brahm nodded in understanding. “We’re on the bounds of the outer wardstones again.”

Shuri paused ahead of them suddenly, staring into a section of open and cleared jungle. They paused behind him. 

“Shuri, what is-” Siata began before trailing off.

Rhomon pushed forwards through the last second of brambles, getting a clear view of the open space before them.

Miles and miles of scorched land. A wildfire that had passed perhaps a week or two ago, leaving long and trackless fields of ash and scorched jungle. The jungle was doing its best to grow back, but the edges had yet to make even tentative progress through the rolling hills of blackened earth. A soot-choked river ran through this broad expanse, thick with the ash of a thousand-thousand dead trees.

And there, in the middle of a river-valley now exposed to the open air, was their destination. A manse of healing now firmly exposed to direct sunlight now that the jungle around it had been so thoroughly reduced to cinders. 

A camp of men had been erected around it in a vaguely militant fashion, a camp flying a banner that read out in High Realm characters ‘Peleps Galen’.

Well technically it spelled out ‘Pelepese Galene’ but High Realm was a language that excepted vowels when they were inconvenient. 

“He pre-empted us.” Rhomon muttered, raising a hand to his chin and brow furrowing heavily. “He must have followed our initial tracks into the jungle and set up a camp. He couldn’t find the hearthstone inside, which told him that we had it and would likely eventually return…”

“Because only a fool leaves a manse undefended.” Siata nodded slowly, a concerned expression on his face as his eyes traced over the camp. “He is one of the significant backers of the local expeditionary forces- if anyone had the pull to set up a camp like this…”

“And no need to appease the jungle for a powerful Dragonblooded, he simply burned it away.” Brahm muttered with a strange note in his voice.

“How do approach?” Shuri asked with a frown. “We don’t see any means to-”

He was cut off as a voice whispered on the winds, audible to all of them.

“I can see you, you know? Approach as friends, or run as an enemy.”

Wind-Carried Words Technique. Rhomon narrowed his eyes as Shuri shut up, all of them shifting around uncomfortably.

“...D-do we approach?” Siata asked with a nervous glance. 

“...We have no choice, I think.” The monk stated bluntly. “If he is already aware of us, and is willing to burn the jungle…”

Then trying to escape would be pretty pointless. Rhomon pulled out a small scroll and started to write upon it, ripping a chunk of charcoal out of the burned earth before him and using it to scribe out a message. Finished, he rolled it up, wrote a second set of lines on the outside, and handed it to his familiar. “Take this to the Jade Plum Citadel- that place we passed by a few days ago. Take it to one of the guards there, and follow it to make sure they give it to the prince.”

The familiar wasn’t very smart, only about as much so as an eight or nine year old, but that was more than smart enough to follow simple directions like this. The bird-lizard chirped at him, carefully biting down on the scroll and flapping up and away. 

“...What was that message?” Brahm asked.

Rhomon turned and began to walk towards the camp, a bright flame alight at the tip of his staff. “To the Prince of the Upper Lands, I am Mnemon Rhomon. I meet with Peleps Galan at the sight of manse I’ve discovered. If I do not return, please inform my mother that he has killed me.” 

“...That’s not very reassuring…” Siata complained. 

“Chin up Siata, now you know you have his attention, at least.” Rhomon muttered back, fingers twitching to make the seals necessary to cast Invulnerable Skin of Bronze. 

Before them, the camp of their very probable-enemy loomed, the last obstacle to completing this quest.