Summoned For A Purpose

I appear in a dark clearing, the scent of blood oppressive.

Eyes adjusting, the silhouette of a child comes into focus in front of me. Ah, those eyes: she's no child.

“Help!”

A smile comes naturally as I incline my head, watching her let out a breath. Then, a javelin slides through my chest, and she screams. Well, things could have gotten off to a better start. Wincing, I grab the head and pull it all the way through.

“Don't worry about that,” I say, stabbing it into the ground.

Her eyes still wide, she nods.

I turn around. There's something in the shadows, there always is. Watching, waiting, I wonder what she asked for. It's always strange and interesting.

A movement catches my eye. Hand darting out, I catch the javelin by the shaft, the tip pointing back at her. With a clench of my fist, the wood cracks, snapping in half. “Whoever you are, you have one warning.” Metal glinting, I snatch another out of mid-air. “So be it.”

Drinking in the humid air, there's a sudden chill. Then, I blow out, my breath a wind that rips away the shadows. Left behind amongst the trees, a man, tall and slender.

I meet his eyes and raise my chin, pulling my arm back. He doesn't move. Snapping my arm forwards, I fling the javelin at him, the path true to his head, except he tilts his head to the side. Digging into the tree behind, the shaft rests against his neck as a drop of blood runs down.

Still, we're staring at each other, though he has more of a glare now. I raise a hand, letting more of my old magic return. Clenching my fist, I pull forward and the man jerks back, his heels digging into the ground and arms reaching for the tree.

Letting go, he slams backwards, then I pull again. His composure gone, he comes forwards, feet dragging and arms flailing.

I bring him to face me from spitting distance. “You have threatened the life of my Summoner. For that, death.”

His eyes wide and mouth pleading, I crush him. Flesh turns to mana, dripping away to the floor, soaking in. A glowing crystal is all that's left of him. Reaching out, I take it between my fingertips, admiring.

“Well, I don't know who you are, but if you've summoned me, you must have quite a story to tell,” I say, turning back to her. With a bow, I add, “Harold the Young Ruler, at your command my Lady.”

Glancing up, I see her staring at me, pale-faced and still.

“This is the part where you tell me your name,” I stage-whisper.

She gulps and nods. “Val, Valerie.”

“A pleasure to meet you. Now, how about we set up a camp and have a little talk. Maybe some tea, that always helps, doesn't it?”

Again, she nods, and I wonder whether I saw something imagined in her eyes, or not.