The mage darkly chuckled as he shook his head and pulled down his cowl, revealing a gaunt, weathered face, sporting a short, white beard. "I wanted to test your resolve and priorities, young king. I am not going to die for someone who puts his greed and ambition before his people. Lucky for Vonai, you passed... barely."

Rynheart gritted his teeth, restraining the urge to reprimand the mage for acting so haughty, especially to one who is supposed to be his king.

"Anyway," continued the mage, obviously enjoying Rynheart's reaction. "I wouldn't worry about souls berserking; we are targeting those that have only existed for less than eighty years. For a soul to manifest or use any of its abilities, it would need to be at least a mid-level old soul, around seven hundred and fifty years old, and even then it would be too weak to do any of us harm."

The old man's face suddenly turned serious. "Also, do not attempt to kill any of the summoned, especially in this room. Not only could it cause a magical backlash that would wipe us from the face of this planet, but it would inform the God of Death to what we have done, and that, your majesty, is something I would like to avoid until I am very, very far away. This ritual is really going to mess up the balance, and if you put any stock into the words of priests and holy men, Death is a bit of a nitpicker when it comes to keeping things... even."

After watching Harken's eyes for a few moments, making sure that he had paid attention to his instructions and, more importantly, his warning, the mage walked over to a wooden barrel near the entrance and picked up a large, white crystal before heading towards the other end of the room.

As he passed, he paused briefly, asking another question, this time, his voice carrying a hint of disdain. "By the way, why is the Grand Mage of Hellfire not here? Seems unlike him to miss an opportunity to stick his nose where it is not wanted."

Harken's gaze once again returned to the imposing black doorframe. "He was ordered to the Federation's Capital, Frakan, and due to the oaths he has sworn, I would not force him to pick between Vonai and the Mage Council. If they ever got word of this and demanded an explanation, it could end badly for us all.

The mage huffed, muttering something inaudible, and walked around the summoning portal to a single pedestal, avoiding the many runes and spell formations carved into the floor, each faintly throbbing with varying colours of light.

The magic formations were concentrated around fifty or so large jars, evenly spaced around the perimeter of the summoning portal. Most were filled with what appeared to be the blood of various creatures or decaying body parts, however, there were a few that were completely unidentifiable. Only the occasional white bone or flesh-looking solid indicated that they were once from a living being.

"I hope they have been semi-selective in what 'ingredients' they provided," said Rynheart as he followed Harken's gaze towards the jars. "The last thing we want is to bring a Nephilim or Titan back into the world." A wicked smile crept upon his face. "Although I bet that even their little fortress island in the north would not be able to save them if we did."

It took a few moments for Harken to respond, as he was deep in thought, staring at the jars. "I wouldn't worry, not only are Nephilim and Titans nothing more than legend, I have seen the list of what we can expect. All are prime or secondary tier sentient species with the most powerful being angels, devils and dragons. Due to location and size restrictions, we are actually quite restricted in what we can use, so there is no need to worry about a behemoth or kraken appearing."

"Aren't devils meant to be extinct? How did they get hold of one, even if it's just their remains?" said Rynheart in a sceptical voice, apparently not putting much faith in the list, or restrictions, the Sun Clan had provided.

Harken smiled joylessly. "Ask no questions, hear no lies, my friend. There are some things that you are better off not knowing, and I really wish I did not ask that question myself."

Grunting in acknowledgement and deciding to let the topic drop, Rynheart leads Harken to the edge of the room where a large stockpile of barrels stood.

The pair watched in silence as mages scurried around the chamber, checking, then double checking every spell formation and groove painstakingly cut into the floor for the smallest of imperfections. While the mages were doing this, the knights were trying to keep out of the way but still remain within a reasonable distance to respond to any threat.

Eventually, the movement in the room began to die down, and Harken kept feeling nervous glances in his direction as people awaited his command.

His eyes heavy with an equal measure of sadness and determination, Harken let out a deep sigh before moving towards a group on the opposite side of the room that he had purposely been avoiding. Thirty-two knights stood behind an equal number of bound prisoners, blindfolded and gagged, kneeling on the floor, many of them shaking in fear. "I guess we should get started."

Rynheart separated from Harken and walked towards the wall where the semi-circle of yellow runes had been embedded into the stone. A small, skinny mage was standing next to it, filling five large holes with crystals of varying sizes, that were glowing in a multitude of colours, in a very particular order. "Everything checked and ready?"

The mage seemed to flinch at Rynheart's words, his face hidden by his cowl like many of his brethren. "Yes, of course. We have checked and double checked. I have been through the portal twice now and have seen the royal courtyard for myself as well as the small army you have stationed there. There it no way for the Su... 'them' to tamper with this array and redirect it to anywhere else."

Raising an eyebrow, Rynheart leant in. "We are not talking about your run of the mill, country bumpkin mages here, we are talking about the Sun Clan; they have access to knowledge from the old continent and the resources to back it up. Just look at the contraption they have us using. I am surprised we have not been labelled as heretics that threaten the safety of the world and the Sacred Temples isn't launching an inquisition as we speak."

The mage patted down his top and straightened up. "We are not your average mages either... General. Once I have set the exchange deposits, you can go through and test it yourself, we have enough crystals for forty transfers so if you're not willing to trust me, why don't you try it yourself?"

"I guess that each crystal deposit represents a transfer? One for each individual?" muttered Rynheart, inspecting the formation without really understanding it in the slightest, but wanting to change the direction of the conversation. "How frivolous. Each one must hold enough crystals to buy and fund a small army for a year."

"Oh, how perceptive of the mighty General Rynheart. Thinking of becoming an adept or merchant?" the mage replied coldly. "Do me a favour and shut up. Talking like that will give our father a heart attack and I already have to live with his disdain for my life choices."

Rynheart slapped the man's shoulder in a familiar way. "Still carrying that chip on your shoulder I see... don't worry, little brother, today's glory is all yours. I am just here to make sure you don't fuck it up."

Rynheart laughed, but before his brother could respond, Harken had stopped pacing in front of the kneeling prisoners, and spoke out in a powerful, commanding voice, sending the room into silence. "First I must apologise for your treatment and for what is about to happen. It is probably little consolation, but your sacrifices will ensure the prosperity and continuation of Vonai and, as its ruler, I thank you from the bottom of my heart on behalf of all of my people."

Upon hearing his words, the bound prisoners began struggling frantically, their worst fears, that they would be used in some sort of magical ritual, confirmed by a voice many of them recognised.

A deep breath escaped the King as he straightened his back and spoke in a solemn voice. "If everyone is ready... let's begin."

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Thanks for reading.