The first meeting of the Grand Summoners, when they were too small to have a name, took place in the dining room of a small bar after closing. After months of efforts, Callan stood on a stage constructed by his followers before a group that wouldn’t have fit in the small dining room they started in.

The Listeners, his followers, all wore brown robes, drab and unflattering by design. They were meant to make the people wearing them faceless. A physical representation of their lacking selves. A circumstance that could only be changed when they embraced his teachings and proved themselves, both to the King and Callan.

Standing ahead of the crowd were the chosen, the ones Callan thought he could make use of, allowed to distinguish themselves with wooden charms of a lion’s head that hung from their robes. They assisted him in running the Grand Summoners. They also met with him once a week for private instruction to prepare them for their own contracts.

It wasn’t lost on Callan that he had no qualifications to guide fledgling summoners. His success was a result of his own efforts but it was undeniable that he wouldn’t have had a place to start if not for the succubus passing along the knowledge of Lourianne Tome. As a summoner, he was just as inexperienced as the people he was leading.

To admit that was to be seen as weak, something he couldn’t afford. A leader had to lead. He did have some experience, having formed a contract with King, and he leveraged if for all it was worth.

Summoning was all about confidence. A summoner had to inspire confidence in an elemental, give them a reason to lend a mortal far weaker than themselves their powers. He couldn’t educate his followers about the many realms but he could teach them about confidence. In the end, that’s what the people filling his pockets with gold wanted. To feel better about themselves. They wanted power too but mainly they wanted to feel that they mattered. Callan could give them that.

Once everything was in place, the Vanity King took his place. Despite being a creature as tall as two horses stacked atop one another and as wide as a carriage, the large beast moved without a sound. The creaking of the stage was the only thing that gave away his presence as he settled behind Callan. His glorious golden mane and tawny fur shined under the meagre lighting as if the heavens had set aside a small sun to always shine upon him. As always, many looked up but only for a few moments. None could hold the King’s golden stare for long.

The elemental deserved the title of Vanity King. Everything about him, from his large paws to the small tuft of hair at the end of his tail, was awe-inspiring. The creature could be arrogant but he had the strength to support his ego. And that strength now encompassed Callan. It wasn’t his command as he pleased but it appeared so and perception was a power of its own.

With everything prepared, Callan cleared his throat and began to speak.

“This world isn’t fair,” he said slowly, voice heavy with emotion. Callan felt strongly about what he taught to his followers. Both because he truly wanted to give something back to the people elevating him and because he couldn’t control himself if he tried. He’d struggled in the building, thinking that a leader needed to be more objective, but King told him to continue as he was.

Logic didn’t give a lion’s roar its power but a passionate heart. Callan would never measure up to King and it was a fool’s errand to try, but if he wanted his elemental to respect him, he would have to become much more than he was.

“Humanity is born at a disadvantage. We don’t have the greatest numbers, the most potent powers, or the longest lifespans. Our race isn’t blessed by mana, none of us having the ability to be born with a pure affinity. We lack knowledge and our oldest traditions were shattered after the Great War. We were forced to start again on a new land but after centuries, we still are naught but a shadow of our ancestors and their great kingdoms.”

He paused to let the words sink in, to let them resonate as he knew they would. “In the wake of our tragedy, humanity should have united. Instead, the elites of Harvest used their natural advantages to prey on the weak. Those without talent, without gifts, and those without a prominent bloodline have been used by the nobles of this kingdom for generations.

“In their eyes, we are useless. Because we do not have the qualities they value, they do not value us. I stand here as someone who was never valued to tell you that they are wrong. The nobles are wrong. The kingdom is wrong. We all have value, if only we are allowed to develop.

“Every one of you has the potential to rival any noble if given the resources and freedom to grow, but this kingdom will not give you those resources. You’ll never receive the chance to grow…as long as you look to this world to give you the opportunity.

“Those beyond this world have greater wisdom. Better eyes. They can see what our own leaders cannot. They see value in you. In humanity. In this world. And through their benevolence, we may all be granted an opportunity to grow. We accept our benefactors into our lives and they give us a voice.”

He paused again, taking a drink of water left a small table along with a small platter of dried fruits, taking the time to examine the newcomers. They were easily to spot as they fidgeted in their cheap robes. From the gold they’d donated, they were likely used to luxury.

He hadn’t lost them but they weren’t as engaged as the others. Callan expected nothing less. The Grand Summoners didn’t sell religion, something fueled by faith. What he sold to his group was a path to power. Something that had tangible benefits with clear steps to achieve them. They wouldn’t care until they had seen those benefits and were told how they would grab hold of them.

“Summoning is an ancient art yet it isn’t well-known in Harvest. When I spread the word about a group of summoners, many thought it to be a joke. Summoning is seen as the practice of fools. And why? Those in powers buried the practice. They hate it because it judges a person by who they are, not the circumstances of their birth. It gives voices to those who they would prefer stayed silent. Does my patron look like a joke to any of you?”

Vanity King stretched behind Callan, basking in the crowd’s admiration. As the record said, the beast craved a following. He had answered the call of Callan, an unremarkable man, because he enjoyed moving amongst the weak. Reveled in their reverence. There was more to their contract but that was the heart of it. As long as Callan continued to build a following, King would cooperate with him.

“Elementals come from different worlds but they are not so different from you and I. They desire wealth, fame, and influence. They are patrons with an interest in fostering those with potential. They are mothers and fathers who take pity on the bumbling youth. They are villains who play games with mortals, pitting them against themselves. They are not good or evil, as we understand the terms, but they are not incomprehensible. As different as we are, we can come together and we are bettered by the union.

“New faces have joined us tonight.” Callan turned to meet the gazes of those he didn’t recognize, three men standing near the edge of the crowd. The oldest of them met his gaze with a frown, still unconvinced. The youngest looked back and forth between Callan and King, eyes helplessly drawn to the elemental. The last of them stared ahead with a neutral expression.

“I bet you’re wondering what summoning can do for you. Or perhaps, you’re wondering the price you have to pay for the opportunity to change your life. Neither answer is what you think.”

King rose and stepped down from the stage. The crowd parted to make way from him as he made his way to the newcomers. A menacing growl shook the walls of the room. “You.” Callan smirked as the three men jumped. None doubted that King was powerful, an idiot could see that, but no one expected him to talk. The Vanity King appeared to be a powerful manabeast but there was so much more to the elemental than it appeared.

His golden gaze speared the man trying to remain neutral. “Draw your blade.”

“I don’t—”

“You cannot fool the sense of a king,” the elemental snapped, cutting off his objection. “Draw your blade. Test your metal against my hide.”

The man glanced around, finding the room observing him with expectation. Hesitation clear in his movements, the man reached inside his robe and drew a dagger. King stood ready, staring down at the man with clear disdain as he slowly raised the blade and brought it down on the tawny fur. King huffed at the strike. “Is that all the strength you’re capable of? I have had leaves fall on me with more force.”

At the provocation, the man lost some of his hesitation in his next strike but the result was the same. It didn’t change the third, fourth, or fifth strike, despite them growing progressively stronger. The knife bounced off the fur without leaving a mark.

“Enough.” King turned from the man with a dismissive flick of his tail and padded back to the stage, settling behind Callan and resting his head on his paws.

“Many in this kingdom are strong but none are born impervious to blades. The realms beyond our own are vast and fantastical. There is no point in trying to tell you what reward you may seek from them, as they can offer more than you could ever imagine.

“In return, we offer them a bond. A summoner and their elemental are bound by their mana, their very beings. You tie your fate to another being in a primal way. It is unbreakable and irreversible. The contract changes your life forever, for better or worse.

“You offer your future but that means nothing to us. If you are here, then you have no future. You have tried everything in this world to get ahead and the world has given you nothing. Now, it is time to look beyond this world.”