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“He’s nowhere to be found milord,” Aezyl.

“How is that possible?” he shouts in anger.

“We do not know,” the mage replies, head bowed in submission. “Twenty slaves died in the attempt, but we were unable to find him.”

“Fools!” he cries as he moves across the room to the window overlooking the School of the Arcane. Not so much seeing as thinking, he tries to come to grips with Aezyl’s failure. A Mage of the Third Circle is no meager practitioner of the art, but someone of great power. Few ever manage to ascend from the Second, most who make the attempt fail to survive the tests.

A rogue mage on the loose, and one who is able to counter whatever they have to throw at him. Where did he come from? That’s an answer many would like to know. A number of Mages of the Fourth Circle have already fallen to him, and none of the others wish to challenge him.

The last three he sent to kill him were but Mages of the Second Circle, though each had great talent. They were promised ascension to the Third if they killed this mage, this was to be their test. He witnessed the battle which had taken their lives and couldn’t believe the relative ease with which his mages were dealt with.

Since the disastrous battle at Lythylla when their forces were completely annihilated, he’s had a mage keep a constant eye on him. It cost the life of a slave every six hours to maintain the magic necessary, but slaves he has in plenty.

Until this morning, all was going well. Then, when the sun rose over Korazan, he was gone. Black Hawk and his army were on the move along the north road, most likely heading back to Madoc. But where the mage was is anyone’s guess.

“Milord?” the Mage of the Third Circle asks.

Turning back to face Aezyl, Kerith-Ayxt says, “Convene the Assembly of Masters.”

“Yes milord,” he says with a bow. Backing from the room, he leaves to carry out his master’s command.

Once Aezyl has left the room, Kerith-Ayxt says a word of power and a wall disappears revealing a room on the other side. Moving into the room, he crosses over to the far wall where several shelves are lined with aged tomes. Removing one extremely old tome whose cover was made from the skin of a king, or so the story goes, he places it on the small table beneath the shelves.

Sitting down, he creates light with a thought and takes great care when he opens the fragile tome. Yellowed pages that have survived millenniums turn slowly under his fingers until he finds what he’s looking for.

Aekion, the Seeker. A powerful being from the plane of fire that has done the bidding of the High Lord Magus in the past, though not during the reign of Kerith-Ayxt. His predecessor had told him the tale of the last time the Seeker had been summoned centuries past to deal with a grievous threat to the Empire.

The summoning of such is not without its risks and never to be undertaken except in the direst of need. While the Assembly of Masters gathers in the Great Hall, he commits to memory the words and gestures of the spell. Even the smallest slip and the summoner will be taken as Aekion returns from whence he came.

He studies the passage until the bell tolls signifying that the Assembly of Masters have gathered in the Great Hall. Closing the book, he returns it to the shelf and then leaves the room. Speaking the word of power once again, the wall materializes.

He makes his way down to the bottom of the tower and crosses the courtyard to where the Great Hall lies on the far side. The summoning of Aekion takes three days. First the Hall must be prepared to hold him. Second, the plane of fire is accessed and a way created for Aekion to pass through. Lastly, the summoning of Aekion.

Each task takes its toll from the summoner and he must rest between each. For to attempt to summon Aekion in a tired or weakened state would surely mean the death of the summoner.

Entering through the massive door, he finds the masters and those of the Fourth Circle who are about to attempt to become full masters assembled. His footsteps echo through the