Allaan and Aegan awoke to the sun on their faces and a loud rhythmic drumming. It took a moment for them to realize the drumming was coming from behind their eyelids as a fierce migraine punished them for each glass of wine they had consumed. A glance at the littered wooden table, covered in flagons of different shapes and sizes said it was a lot.
The pair felt a swell of pity for the poor servant or servants who must have spent the entire night running back and forth to provide those beverages. That is until the pounding in their heads resumed and Allaan asked if Aegan had enough mental capacity to perform a spell to heal them.
Aegan hurriedly complied with a spell he had learned in his early days in this world and used innumerable times since. It washed away the orchestra playing behind their eyes and rid them of the aches and pains from passing out on the nearby sofas.
A quick search revealed Wulfric sprawled across the bed in the other room, his snores loud enough to wake the dead. Once they noticed his condition Allaan genuinely question Aegan as to how either of them had even been able to sleep with that racket, yet his response was simply 'unfortunately even magic does not have all the answers.'
Sticking his head out Aegan sent servants scurrying to inform some of Wulfrics delegation of his condition and assist him in getting ready. The rest was to prepare baths for them so they may also do so.
When he returned Wulfric had been shaken awake. His bushy mane sticking out in all directions as he appeared to have torn his shirt off at some point in the night although if it were whilst drinking or sleeping none could remember.
Wulfric found a nearby jug of water and after drinking half he unceremoniously dumped the rest over his head before shaking off the water like a dog after a bath. With his brain finally awake he observed the King of Aestria and its Champion burst out laughing as the mighty King of Zuthaya's appearance now resembled nothing so much as a cat that just got caught in the rain.
After he finished laughing Aegan innocuously offered to use his hangover spell, which resulted in a lot of swearing followed by "should've just done it in the bloody first place" resulting in additional peals of laughter before Aegan could finally pull himself together enough to cast it.
King Allaan took the longest to get himself together, his white undershirt disheveled and crimson pants now a rumpled mess he himself looked a sight, yet as the laughter faded, he walked forwards and caught the pair in a fairly awkward hug.
"I owe you for this wulfie" He said affectionately, still wiping tears from his eyes. "And Aegan… no. Tom"
Aegan turned to Allaan, noticing the joyful laughter taking a note of seriousness. Tom Hamsworth. It was a name he hadn't heard in more years than he could recall. He'd taken a more Aestrian name when he came here as Champion, as did all his fallen comrades. Hearing that name now, on this day, felt like a breeze of fresh air. Carrying away with it his fears and leaving him free to face the ritual head on.
"I owe you more than I can ever repay. No matter what comes I won't forget you or what you've done for me and our people. Thank you, my friend"
Allaan grasped Aegans wrist and pulled him in for a hug as he said those last words.
Aegan smiled "It's been my honor"
Turning to Wulfric "You keep him out of trouble though. If the pair of you fuck this up when I'm gone, I'm gonna haunt the both of you"
Another knock preceded a swarm of servants and activity, and all joviality was gone. In its stead was peace and determination as 3 of the most powerful people on the continent prepared to face the Summoning ritual.
...................
In a chamber high atop the Cathedral of the 12 gods, Kings and Dignitaries gathered. The chamber was circular with a wide hole in the middle, enclosed by a metal railing, that looked down into a wider chamber with 12 ceramic platforms roughly the size of a bed, bordering a large glowing blue magic circle. The "beds" had chains affixed to them ending in cuffs that could be widened or narrowed to fit any sized being.
Above the main chamber the ceiling contained a large round window that even now was being steadily dragged open through a system of pulleys on one side. Allaan looked up as the sun shone down straight down through the high, circular pane glass window and then down to where preparations were being made.
Mages from the Aestrian chapter of the Mages Tower busied themselves down below preparing, touching up the magic circle in miniscule ways that most of the Lords and Ladies did not understand. To one side an old man stood with a heavily jeweled staff, barking orders and pointing this way and that, his body radiating a fierce magic power.
Beside him was a blonde woman with her hair in a bun nodding at his words while wielding a pen and roll of parchment, furiously scribbling away. Next to her an ink pot floated gently at wrist height which she could be seen dabbing into constantly as she recorded the events.
As a large wooden side door opened to reveal a Mage carrying a heavily enchanted chest, the old man's attention focus completely on him with such pressure that the poor man's knees nearly buckled.
"Be careful with that you fool, if you so much as SCRATCH that chest generations of Mages with shiver in fear at your punishment for the next thousand years!"
The quivering mage cautiously approached, somehow keeping his feet, and holding the chest so gingerly one would think it contained his first born. As he reached the old Mage and gently disposed of his charge to the assistant beside him there was an audible sigh of relief.
"Well don't just stand there! There are a million things to be done!" The old man raged, gesticulating wildly. Before long the new arrival was scurrying around like the others, mixing up ingredients, checking edges of the magic circle for flaws and sweating like men who were not exactly the most athletic type yet being asked to run a marathon.
"Idiots" The old man snorted then with a whisper he levitated up gently, rising through the hole to the chamber above, over the railing to then drop down besides Allaan and Aegan.
"My apologises King Allaan, the ritual will be prepared on time, it'd would be ready now if it weren't for the incompetence of morons. Every year they seem to get more inept, I loathe dealing with inadequate children"
"I'm sure everything is fine" Allaan replied calmly "Thank you for your efforts, Aedir"
"Master" Aegan bowed deeply; his hands cupped in respect.
"And YOU!' Aedir Onvalore, High Archon and leader of the Aestrian chapter of Mages roared.
"You utter fucking idiot! If you'd taken your training even half as seriously as you should have this wouldn't be happening! Why I have half a mind to grab you by the ear and DRAG you the whole way back to the tower to start your apprenticeship over again! Maybe a second dose will cure the stupidity you are afflicted with!"
"You're still a crotchety old bastard" Aegan smiled.
For all his words, Aegan owed this man more than any other. Even his name was based on that of the grumpy old man raging before him when he chose it.
"I wish that I could take you up on that. Another 4 years spent apprenticing in the White Tower would be…" The air turned somber and Aedir ceased his raging and sighed heavily, his eyes roaming over the still unmoving arm and missing eye.
"I had high hopes for you boy" Aedir said quietly. "You were supposed to be my retirement plan"
"Retirement? The next 3 generations of Champions will be dust before you get tired of screaming at apprentices. At 200 years old you barely middle aged!" Aegan laughed trying to bring back the jovial air from a moment ago.
"No, I'm tired. After all these years watching time go by, I feel it in my bones. I need to lay down this bloody thing" Shaking the bejeweled staff heavily and punctuating his words with another deep sigh. Then he glared at Aegan.
"And it's 146 years THANK YOU VERY MUCH"
"Same thing" Aegan waved indifferently, a mocking grin on his face.
Allaan watched this interaction quietly. He'd had all the time in the world last night with Wulfric to say their goodbyes and even though a hundred drunken nights might not be enough to truly let his friend go, everyone else deserved their chance.
The Lords above mingled, many patting Aegan on the back or saying a few quiet words. He had no family in this world, but many friends, even though the ones he was closest to were left on his final battlefield.
As the sun began to reach its zenith, Aegan looked at Allaan and steeled his resolve.
"It is time"
...................
In a warehouse not far from the Cathedral another ceremony was being prepared. Dust coated the walls and a rough circle had been cut in the rooftop. Within this place was also a hive of activity as people swarmed around another magic circle, this circle a deep blood red in colour.
Yet the people in this building shared none of the stress and fears of their counterparts, indeed they appeared to be in a trance as they walked shakily, their eyes unseeing. In a corner sat a man somewhat more focus as he directed the puppets like a symphony, each twitch of his fingers directing the ensemble in different directions.
At each breath a black miasma was exuded, like a thick dark fog. A true Demon could not step foot inside the wards of the capital city of Camela, yet a thrall such as this could with great effort, be smuggled in. As the preparations neared completion it looked to the sky and whispered the words in a haunting, hollow voice.
"It is time"