Everything had been laid out perfectly. Across the ground, a star shape had been made across the ground, using a mixture of sand and crushed crystals. In the middle was a small bowl, containing various hard-to-get ingredients, and five vials of blood.
The Rethans stood silently around the edge of the dusted star, while Kayel entered the centre of the shape, opening up the vials and mixing them in the bowl. He then added some bone meal and a small, pink jewel, before taking a paint brush and dabbing it in the mixture. He placed the bowl back in the middle and started writing mystic symbols with the bloody fluid. Once Kayel had finished, he stepped back outside the shape, the same as everyone else.
“What now?” Zitel asked.
Kayel hissed, telling Zitel to shut up. “Close your eyes, put your hands together and remain silent.”
Zitel did as he was told, as did the others. Kayel started muttering something under his breath, but what it was, no one else was sure. All they knew was that it definitely wasn’t Panglish, but nor was it the weird Thrakian Dialect.
Suddenly, the liquid in the bowl started to boil and froth up. It turned black, and horrid, inky trails of goo started forming from the bowl, spreading out and filling the centre of the star. Without warning, the bowl caught fire and from the dark smoke emanating from it, something could be heard.
“So you’re telling me that Kinisis has a usable, working mobile phone that can only be called with the right incantation?”
“Yes. It is rarely used though. Maybe once a year perhaps.”
The two voices were odd. One was masculine but young. The other was feminine but old.
“Wish she’d told us that.”
“They can hear us by the way.”
“I’d assume so, considering this is a mobile phone.” The masculine voice turned his attention to the beings who had called. “Who are you and why the fuck are you calling the Lady of the Cycle?”
The Rethans all stepped back, pretty shocked.
“Shit, it talked!”
Kayel tried to calm everyone down by explaining clearly. “Great beings of the Cycle, I wish to ask permission to teach my family the art of Necromancy.”
“For what purpose will you use this power?” the female voice asked.
“To heal and to protect. The dead will remain dead. The living will remain living, even if they live longer than intended.”
“Will you leave the soul intact? Will you remain outside the lands of Kinigi? Is there a specific purpose? Do you swear you will never harm those who enable Cycle, including Kinisis herself?” the female voice had a lot of questions.
“Yes. My purpose is to make us stronger, to bring races together, a union of evolution. I make the exact promise for my friends that I made when I first asked Kinisis for permission.”
The two voices fell silent. Whether they were discussing something in private, Kayel wasn’t sure.
“That smaller voice seems familiar,” Veeyel whispered.
“Yeah…” Kayel admitted. “I thought we’d be speaking to Kinisis directly…”
“Kinisis is busy right now…” The male voice suddenly returned. “Kayel, are you really trying to bring back the Trehavok? There’s only one left. You can’t do it.”
Kayel’s jaw fell open. “… Arkay?”
“Yes, I’m the Veth Prime. That’s who you speak to when Kinisis isn’t available. You didn’t answer my question. This is Istoria. She thinks you’re trying to bring the dead, i.e. the Trehavok, back to life, and she doesn’t like that.”
“We’re not!” Veeyel interrupted. “We want to make a new species. Sure, Psivee-En is going to be helping us, but we’re not trying to bring anything back from the dead.”
“Then we shall allow it…” Istoria sighed.
“Really?” Arkay exclaimed. “You’re allowing it?”
“As long as they are not interfering with the Cycle directly, they are free to do what they want.”
“Alright, fine. She thinks it’s okay. I think necromancy is still kinda dumb. But since Istoria knows better, just… don’t be retards, alright?”
Kayel smiled. “Thank you, Arkay.”
“Uh, before you go,” Zitel interrupted. “What’s it like, dying and being dead and all that?”
The Veth Prime let out a small giggle. “Sorry, mate. I can’t tell you. You’ll find out one day. Look after yourselves!”
Without warning, the black smoke and inky tendrils all disappeared. A heavy wind blew by, scattering the lines of dust. After a moment of silence, all that was left was an empty bowl.
“That was fucked up,” Ksiel grunted, confused as to what the hell had just happened.