Exanguin yelped and turned tail. His transformation came undone halfway. A boy with dog ears and a bird’s nest on his head. Exanguin, now in his real form, slipped out the door leaving the three of us alone.

  Wol leapt off the rubble, landing softly. “Do you know why that worked, my Caller?”

  “I… I don’t even know if I understand what just happened.”

  ‘Two approach us. Practitioner and his familiar’ Hwari sang.

  “This room is a deathtrap. Let’s leave.” Wol walked towards the door.

  “But they’re coming from that door.” But my feet were already moving to keep up with Wol.

  “We will manage.” Wol answered. “The Fae rely on glamour. Lies fuel their power just as much as the truth does. But he was in a shape that wasn’t his own. Hence, we used lies based on truth.”

  “What if he was in his own shape?”

  “We’d have to make the truth out of lies. Much harder to do.” We came out into the hallways. Wol’s paws made no noise, and Hwari had no reason to make noise. “We’re lucky he was so young. A more experienced Fae would have just turned it into a battle of claw, fang, and reflexes –which they also excel at.”

  “So we only won because of luck?”

  ‘Yes. No. A little of both.’ Hwari answered cryptically.

  “We struck at the weakness of his glamour, chipping away at it. It worked because Exanguin was inexperienced. Young Fae like him can easily be overcome with wit more so than might.” Wol rested his eyes on me. “It also worked because of you. We drew on your talent for abjuration.”

  “You’re saying you used the whole situation to your advantage. The glamour. The Fae. My presence. The lack of his practitioner’s presence.” Then as an afterthought, “But to do that, I had to know what glamour was. The characteristics of the Fae. The general rules surrounding familiars and their practitioners. What I’m good at.”

  “Knowledge is power.”

  “Except in my case, I have to live long enough to get knowledge. But I also need to get knowledge to do so. See my problem?”

  “You,” Wol inhaled deeply through his nose, “have a very pessimistic outlook. I do not care for it.”

  “I’m a glass half empty kind of guy.” I heard footsteps and instinctively put my arms around Hwari and covered Wol with my foot –the one missing the shoe of course.

  “The Fae is hurt now. His Practitioner will be a step behind. This one coming up the stairs,” Wol stepped over my shoe and gave me an annoyed look, “What is his familiar? And what kind of practitioner is he?”

  “A ghost of a family that died in a fire together. It,” I swallowed, remember the experience of being burnt alive, “it uses fire. I hurt it with water. As for what he uses, I don’t know.”

  “Fire is quick to learn but difficult to master. Annoying on both spectrums.” Wol whispered to me, “A ghost born of fire. The practitioner is most likely an Evocator who works off his ghost’s Enchantments.”

  “I don’t know what that is.”

  “Evocation is the direct manipulation of primal forces, fire being one.” Wol explained, “Direct and effective, especially in close quarters.”

  ‘Like this hallway.’ Hwari made herself known around my head.

  “What do we do?”

  ‘You are a Conjurer.’

  “With abjuration talents. We will aim for the familiar.” Wol said like that was the obvious choice.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  “Problem,” I hissed as footsteps got to the top of the stairs, “I don’t know how to conjure or abju-riate.”

  “It’s abjure.” Wol corrected

  ‘He’s here.’

  The ghost of a family that died in a fire came up the stairs. The practitioner came up moments after.

  I don’t know what I expected from another practitioner who kills other people for money. Maybe a leather jacket, an eye patch, and a handgun. Instead he was a handsome guy with dark features, only a few years older than I was if I had to take a guess. Someone that I could see walking down Madison Ave with a coffee in hand. Just another joe schmoe.

  He held what looked like a torch in one hand and a lighter in the other. Upon a closer look, I realized the torch was actually a staff made of gnarled wood. The top part burned brightly while the body smoldered with ritualistic runes that didn’t look like any language I knew.

  The bounty hunter turned slowly, sweeping the area before him with his staff to clear his line of sight.

  That was why they had been so careful; they couldn’t see in the dark. But thanks to the norigae, I could.

  With the ball of flame, my advantage was gone now.

  The man pointed his staff towards me. There was a soft click as he lifted the cap off his lighter and streams of fire traveled in snaky paths towards the staff.

  ‘Run.’ Hwari warned.

  With that warning, Hwari sank into the walls and reappeared right next to the damned practitioner’s head. She flicked her tail, splashing liquid shadow in the man’s eyes. It surprised him just enough for the blast of fire to go wide.

  The hallway was a narrow path, maybe enough for three people to walk together side by side. Not only that, it was an old building. Most likely before New York City building codes for timber had been passed, and the icy winds had given more than enough time to dry out the wood within.

  Flames licked upwards and exploded to life, swallowing the ceiling and instantly covering the hallway with heat, smoke, and the silent laughter of the family ghost.

  “Come!” Wol tackled my knees, and bounded in the opposite direction.

  I stopped rubbernecking and sprinted down the hall at full speed, right on Wol’s tail.

  ‘Burn.’ The daughter silently commanded.

  Once more, the sensation of smoke filling my lungs threatened to overcome reason. I leaned on the wall, pounding my chest uselessly with a fist. The ghost’s enchantment was stronger than before, hacking my body’s biomechanisms and exacerbating the fire’s effects from above.

  Wol was at my side in an instant. “He strengthens his flames by imbuing it with the ghost’s memories.” Wol said, “Direct, simplistic but effective. Powerful.”

  ‘Evocators always are.’

  Out of the corner of my eye, the practitioner was wading through his own flames. The smoke was affecting him too, though to a lesser degree. He waved his staff, and the flames turned aside from him in a curtain.

  “Conjurers have their own way of doing things.” Wol replied.

  I looked at the fire spreading up above. How hot it felt. Then I looked at the room where we had battled Exanguin. The window was slightly open, and frigid winds whistled through with light drops of snow.

  “Yes.” Wol’s tail flicked across my vision. “You’re getting it." Then to his partner, "Hwari.”

  Hwari ghosted to the floor right next to my hand. She spun, while trailing that murky black inky substance. They usually evaporated after a second or two. But it remained this time.

  Leaving a summoning circle on the floor.

  “No names. We don’t need power.” Wol muttered, “Just enough to buy time.”

  “I–” I coughed, “No materials.”

  “You do.” Wol’s voice was steel, unrelenting against my arguments. “It's all around us.”

  “Blood.” I held out my hand to Wol.

  Wol extended a single claw and flicked it across my index finger. A cut so sharp that I felt nothing until beads of blood welled up.

  I touched my blood against the circle.

  “My blood,” I breathed out, holding in the cough. “P-p-price t-t-to cross over.” I broke out into a coughing fit.

  Hwari finished the chant in my stead. ‘Fire and warmth, for those who would draw near.’

  Her words served as my own. On an instinctive level, I understood that they were miles above in effectiveness than my own. Our words melded together as one, empowering the circle.

  I saw Wol do his own part, redirecting some of the heat around us. Rather, the feeling of warmth, the sensation of fire –those were the emotions that Wol fed into the circle in my stead. Wol was compensating for my lack of skills and forcefully raising the level of completion.

  I felt the spell come to life, different from the summonings I had done before. Those had been aimed, very specific and required more rituals: names, specific offerings, words that had to be included in the chant.

  This one was more of a distress signal; trying to gain the attention of any random ghost that might be attracted by what we offered. It was still leagues ahead of anything I had done so far.

  They came with the cold.

  ? Summoner's Ascent [A System Apocalypse LitRPG] ?

  by Dice

  Apocalypse... Ashton returned back home, to just a few moments after he left.

  [The [Tutorial] has begun!]

  Summoner.

  System Apocalypse in a world trying its best to survive. Join Ashton in this Progression Fantasy to see if he'll outsmart the council this time around!