There was a change in the air. A rippling in the fabric of reality. The greatest disturbance in an age. And only a handful of individuals could sense it.

  Tayandarix collapsed to the floor with a groan, his exhalation sending papers and scrolls scattering about the circular chamber. He closed his eyes for a second and tried to just breathe.

  Before he could take a moment to recover from the bone-deep exhaustion that had clawed into the centre of his being, a chime went off in his head. For a moment he considered ignoring it but he knew it wouldn’t stop, and even as he debated with himself it went off again, louder. With a sigh that barely rustled the pages of the tome in front of him he accepted the communication with a mental pulse, though even that was almost beyond him.

  “Tay? Tay! That wasn’t you was it? Please tell me you’ve not done something stupid.”

  Tayandarix waited a few moments, trying to summon the energy to respond. He could feel Velthoria waiting with impatient energy.

  “Ah, Vel, I feel I may have made an error.”

  “What in the name of char and cinders were you doing?”

  A great eye the colour of dawn breaking on the vast ocean regarded the spellbook that still lay open in front of him.

  “I was attempting to summon a legion of Golems, Vel.”

  Her voice came through, half panicked, half scolding.

  “Well you most certainly didn’t do that. The amount of mana you must have drawn for me to feel it move from here…I’m surprised it didn’t kill you!” Then, in a softer voice. “Are you okay Tay? Is it that bad over there?”

  Tayandarix took a minute to respond, forcing himself upright and reaching for a pitcher of sapphire icewine from the mountains of Threndorak which had sunk beneath the sea a millenia ago. He did it physically, not trusting to magic. When he replied, he ignored her questions.

  “I’m not sure what I did wrong. It’s an old spell but it’s been used before. Would you mind running through it with me? Unless it turns out to be beneficial to the situation here I’ll have to attempt it again, and I’d rather not get it wrong next time.”

  I’m not sure I would survive the backlash.

  There was a hesitation as her reply came, which would have been imperceptible to anyone that hadn’t known her for more than five thousand years or so.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  “If you can repeat the words to me I can certainly find out where the error lies. Perhaps it’s best to call for aid using more mundane means for the time being though...”

  Tayandarix paused, and sent a tendril of curiosity out with his next words.

  “And would that assistance be coming from you, Vel?”

  “No.” Her reply was instant and decisive, and not for the first time in their mental conversation Tayandarix felt a faint scowl forming. “And don’t you pull that face with me old man. I have my own responsibilities here. I’ve made my stance very clear. If you wish to stay there and take on the burden, that’s your choice. It will either help in the short term or harm in the long term; a few centuries more and I expect we’ll be able to reach some sort of consensus. Ask me again then.”

  Tayandarix snorted aloud and felt himself relax as the shock of the miscast spell left him feeling simply tired rather than on the brink of death.

  “Fine. Have it your way. Now, about the incantation.”

  “Yes, yes. Repeat the words to me.”

  Reciting the spell from memory but holding back from putting any of his mana into it - not that he had any left at the moment - Tayandarix repeated the words, translated from a language that had been ancient even when he’d been born, and felt the emotions of his old friend flow back along the link that connected them. For the first half an hour she listened in silence but as he reached the end of the spell he felt her stiffen through the bond, and as he recalled the final words she sighed.

  “Well, ashes and shit. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: your inability to cope with even fundamental syntax will one day be the death of you.”

  He heard the unspoken ‘or someone else’ at the end of her rebuke and despite the knowledge of his mistake he still felt a flush coming to his cheeks.

  “I translated as best I could. Ancient Ativinki is an awkward language at the best of times.”

  “Maybe next time consult with me first.”

  “I’m not about to come running to you every time I need to cast a cantrip.”

  “Summoning a hundred golems is hardly a cantrip.”

  “Well, no, but I manage well enough most days.” Tayandarix paused as he considered a point. “Hey now, I don’t suppose the error was in the number? A few thousand rock elementals wouldn’t go amiss if I’ve already spent the mana.”

  “No. I’m not even sure what the error has done, but it must be significant to require that amount of power to complete it though. Make sure to eat plenty of red meat and vegetables over the next few days; don’t just rely on infused drinks for replenishment.”

  Tayandarix put the now-empty pitcher down with a guilty grimace.

  “Fine, fine. Well, what was it?”

  “What was what?”

  “The mistake!”

  “Oh, right. Well, it’s in the difference between common and proper noun usage for the summoning.”

  “The what?”

  A sigh echoed through the link and Tayandarix could swear he heard the sound of a giant scaled claw slapping an equally reptilian face.

  “...with all the thousands of years…but no. Right at the end, the word you wanted was ‘Terrae’, but you substituted ‘Terra’.”

  “Oh. Right… and what does that mean?”

  “It means that you summoned ‘children of Earth’ rather than ‘Children of the earth’.

  “Ah, okay. And what does that mean?”

  There was no sound for a moment, and then a worried reply from Velthoria.

  “Honestly Tay, I don’t know.”