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gaborrero t1_j2e8l9a wrote

The city of Tofrahaeth had been abuzz for nearly a decade over the magical prodigy that was Michael of the Arbaeli family. He could bend the elements to his whim, explain complex concepts in terms even of a five year old could understand, and create magical items that would surely bring about a revolution in the kingdom of Orkugarthur in the near future. What he couldn't do, however, was summoning magic.

It was a damn shame that he wasn't me.

I would have given anything to be Michael, growing up. To see him, to know him, to learn from him. But we lived worlds apart - he was a noble of Tofrahaeth, and I was living as the son of a lumberjack in the outskirts of a little village two days away called Dulskog. What we lacked in people we made up for in trees with rainbow bark and silver leaves. Artists would visit our town to paint the trees and forest, but to me, they weren't really anything special; just a way to put food on the table.

My father assured me that one day I would follow his path in chopping down and processing trees to be exported to the city for a variety of goods. It wasn't a fate I wanted for myself, and truth be told, while I was no Michael Arbaeli, I had a secret of my own: I could do magic.

I had never held a proper wand or staff in my life, but I had discovered at a young age that the dreams I had of circles with strange shapes and unfamiliar writing were actually used in summoning. The words were lost on me; it would be a miracle if I could read them, because I could barely read and write Mothurmal or Vithskapti. I wasn't a noble or even a merchant's child, so why would I know how to read or write in the first place?

The act of summoning was actually pretty simple: you would draw the circle as required and then say... anything while thinking of wanting to have company. I don't know if this is how summoning was done in Tofrahaeth, but for me, it was sufficient. I had summoned all sorts of creatures and beasts in this way, though they always departed after half a day's time.

One night, I went to bed, wishing that I too could come to be as well known as the prodigy everyone spoke of. Over the course of the night, I had an unusual dream. There was a circle, yes, that I saw. But there were eyes. Many, many eyes. And a feeling that someone... or perhaps, more accurately, someTHING... was watching me. I woke up in a sweat from the dream and pondered if I should dare draw out the circle that had caused me such unease. But why else had I dreamt of it, if not to bring it to fruition?

I got changed and set out in the darkness into a small clearing in the wood where I usually drew my circles. Nobody would dare come this deep into the forest, especially at night. Indeed, there felt something eerie about the woods tonight - normally, the moonlight and starlight would reflect off the rainbow bark of the trees and produce a faint sparkle of color in every direction. Instead, there was just a thick darkness that choked the light out of the forest.

Perhaps that was my second warning, with the first being the feeling in my dream, that I should stop. That I should turn back. But still, I pressed on to the clearing. In the darkness, I took to drawing out the summoning circle as I had dreamt it. It was clear in my mind, clearer than they normally were. When I finished, I found myself staring at a large, complex image carved into the dirt. Despite the signs, I held my hands out in front of the circle and focused my intent: I wanted something to give me company, something that would help me be as well known as Michael Arbaeli of Tofrahaeth.

In an unusual display, red light began to spread along the lines I had carved until they all connected. Then, a column of light erupted forth and the earth shook, causing me to fall. Slowly rising from the ground came an enormous, wriggling mass of dark violet tentacles, the ends of each showing a luminous red eyeball. When it was finally finished emerging from the circle, it was taller than the trees and had knocked over several.

My body shook all over in terror. "Wh...what!" I couldn't help but speak as I backed away on all fours, not turning away from the creature. In that instant, all of its many-tentacled eyes focused on me, and it seemed to hunch over, glaring down at me.

"... child of mine," it intoned, sickly-sweet voice coming from I-don't-know-where. "We have much to discuss."


MikeColorado t1_j2efgst wrote

Last sentence was great. "Child of mine" What an opening for a part 2.


Negikuno t1_j2edxzx wrote

To be fair him complaining that he can barely read and write Mothurmal or Vithskapti is understandable, I can barely do the same lol.

Great story! I loved it. I was instantly enthralled.


N0tBurn1ngEvidenc3 t1_j2euei6 wrote

> mass of tentacles

> many-tentacled eyes

Sounds like they’re a descendant of Yog-sothoth


Oba936 t1_j2ec0ce wrote

I love this! Thank you!


gaborrero t1_j2ecaoz wrote

Thank you! Have a wonderful day and new year!


Oba936 t1_j2eed0p wrote

You too! All the good things I wish for you. :)