Fortune or misfortune? Lucan couldn't help but compare his previous life as an earthly slacker with the scholarly existence on this new planet.
Compared to his aimless days on Earth, Elyon's original body seemed destined for a promising future. Unless he committed suicide, a middle-class life was almost guaranteed, especially since university graduates weren't as common as in the 21st century back on Earth.
Suicide? The mystery surrounding Elyon Sasson was profound. How did a young scholar on the verge of graduation from a modest farming family end up hanging himself in a rented room?
The lingering memories suggested frequent visits to the university library in recent days, and the scrap of paper with the summoning ritual was likely found there.
Upon searching through the desk drawers, Lucan found an unposted envelope resembling a suicide note, scrawled in hurried black steel pen ink.
Dearest parents,
I am Elyon, indebted to you for years of nurturing. Repayment was my duty, but I have committed an unforgivable sin, a blasphemy against the divine.
I do not wish to taint you with my misdeeds. Only through sacrificing my life can I atone.
Your son, Elyon, with finality.
The Iron Epoch, June 9, 1886.
Suicide? That didn't seem right. It was just a ritual, after all, and the dubious rite didn't appear to blaspheme the gods or threaten to annihilate a city.
Perhaps in a zealous medieval era, fear might drive one to suicide, especially with a proud tradition of hunting those who practiced dark arts.
Was it voluntary? Had someone drugged Elyon, strung him up, or used some magic or hypnotic control? Lucan's mind was in turmoil.
What time was it? No watches or similar devices were found on the body. Yet, any civilized society would surely have a concept of calendars and timekeeping.
On this Earth-alien planet, a year was also 12 months, aligned with the cycle of the larger red moon.
Each month was divided into four weeks according to the phases of the smaller blue moon, and each week consisted of ten days.
Unlike Earth, there were only 360 days in a year. Astronomical observations accumulated over time naturally resulted in this calendar. "The establishment of a calendar is the cornerstone of civilization," Lucan mused.
"The temperature feels around 28 degrees Celsius, likely late May or early June," he mentally noted.
Aside from such common knowledge, only fragments of Elyon's legal studies remained. If this world had a bar exam, Lucan was sure to fail miserably.
Perhaps influenced by lingering memories, he felt a sudden sense of guilt for wasting Thane's meticulous guidance—not to mention the near thousand pounds spent, a fortune that could last many years in this world.
Even as a slacker, one must strive. Lucan had no desire to remain in a time without air conditioning and wifi. Recalling the ritual he performed before crossing, he wondered if he should try it again, hoping it might transport him back to Earth.
Lucan's reason for attempting the ritual on Earth was straightforward: he wanted to change his recent spate of bad luck.
Last month, his unrequited love resigned to inherit family wealth, leaving before he could confess, and he hadn't even received a pity card in return.
Then came the succession of late penalties at work, rain-soaked walks home without an umbrella, and finding a needle in his instant noodles.
To turn his fortunes, Lucan had dug out "The Grand Compendium of Occult Rituals East and West," bought for five bucks at a street stall.
He chose one of the most charlatan-like mystic ceremonies and performed it at home—a Frankenstein's monster of Wiccan magic and Kabbalistic rituals of life.
Luckily, the required materials were almost free, ensuring no money was wasted. Allegedly, it could reset one's life and change the current state of affairs.
Facing his current situation, Lucan could only bitterly smile. His life hadn't just restarted; he was in an entirely different world.
No, he had been summoned here. He resolved to perform the ritual again, intent on returning to Earth—perhaps he could even transport someone from Earth to keep him company on this planet. Lucan reaffirmed his decision to conduct the ceremony once more.
"Let's think, Elyon must have done something similar, though under a different name. The materials should be easy to find—probably just a rummage away," Lucan began his search.
First, he needed to gather symbolic representations of the four elements.
For the element of Air, he took the feather pen from the ink bottle, removed its nib, and deemed it a makeshift representation of Air, convincing himself it would suffice.
For Fire, matches or some kind of fuel were needed, and conveniently, there was a box beside the kettle.
Next was the symbol for Earth, typically a mineral or clump of soil. Lucan found some dirt on a shoe beside the bed.
Lastly, for Water, the seashell he stepped on earlier would do perfectly.
With the four elements assembled, the next step was the formation of the circle. Lucan collected coal ash from the stove and drew a circle on the floor, then used a book to outline a hexagram within it.
Inside the hexagram, he drew three perpendicular lines on one side to symbolize space and a clock face on the other to represent time.
At the circle's cardinal points, he placed the four elements: soil to the north for Earth, a feather to the east for Air, matches to the south for Fire, and the seashell to the west for Water.
"As above, so below; let the miracle of the Taiyi be fulfilled. All things originate from the Taiyi, created through division. The Sun as father, the Moon as mother. My thoughts align with the will of the master. My desires mirror those of the master. Trace back to the beginning, achieve the extraordinary."
No sooner had he completed the ritual than the room darkened considerably. Lucan struggled to breathe as the air seemed to thicken into a solid state.
His body froze, simple actions like extending a finger impossible. The room grew darker, his body lighter.
Swallowed by darkness, Lucan strained his eyes for a sliver of light. Whispers of chants, venomous curses, devout prayers, and avaricious pleas filled his ears.
Different languages, different voices, some loud, some soft, some distant, some near, all flooded Lucan's hearing. Then came an intense headache, as if a firecracker was lit inside his skull.
He tried to flail his limbs, to no avail, as if they were mere puffs of air.