Somewhere, in a darkened room sat a squatted figure in a circle that was carved in the granite floor. In the center of this circle was a circular dais with a diameter of about 60 inch. The room itself was remarkable. It was gigantic and had the form of an exact geometrical septagon, but most interestingly it had no doors or windows.
The figure, who didn't appear to be entirely human, sat before the dais, wearing nothing more then a gleaming white loin cloth. He was bald, but a braided strand of Myrtle Green hair flowed down from the top center of his head. The loin cloth he wore was made of a type of silk and had tiny symbols of some sort embroidered on the edges that sent off a pale silvery glow.
On the dais were several items neatly placed, some of which were placed on linen cloth. There were cubes of wax in different colors, some knifes with symbols carved into their blades, a petroleum burner, a huge crystal bowl, a sieve, bronze scales, a few ladles, a few glass flasks holding colored liquids, and some gemstones.
As he sat there, his eyes swept over the dais for the last time, mentally checking if every item laid in its proper place. Not that he doubted it, it was his job after all. But one little mistake, one minuscule protuberance within the wax could easily snuff out his candle of life.
He couldn't have that. Not with all the people who always praised him for his skills, not with all his fellow ceromancers who saw him go up in rank faster then a bird took to the air, not with all his wise mentors who had brought him to his current level. He certainly wouldn't want to disappoint the Ceromaster who had let it slip that he was a promising candidate for becoming the next Ceromaster despite his youth. No, dying was the least of his options and too many fools had died because of rushing into a session.
The ceromancer sighed. Suddenly he brought the back of his left hand towards his forehead in a fluid motion. After it came in contact with his forehead he brought back his hand and opened his eyes. Then he pointed towards a flask that hold a golden liquid.
As soon as he did that the flask uncorked and began to hover above the dais. The cork came flying towards him and he swiftly caught it with his left hand. Then he began to chant while the flask started to move slowly towards the edge of the circle.
Ah-ran-zee, Ban-zee
Cerax oo-vra-nkee.
Naq-naq aoree,
Neg xzal-oo-ee!
The words of the chant were very ancient and amongst the most powerful within the field of ceromancy. it was one of the best kept secrets amongst ceromancers and was not revealed until a graduated ceromancer took on an apprenticeship with a classified mentor. The mentor would, upon acceptance, whisper the words into the left ear of the apprentice, then he would speak a warning not to use them yet into the right ear. It had become a long standing tradition amongst ceromentors.
Using "The Chant" as it was referred to, was immensely complex. each single word of the chant has seven different definitions which must be remembered when chanting. It sure takes a lot of practice to accomplish that. And when one definition is not remembered correctly it may as well be that your life is on the line.
The flask had arrived at the edge of the circle at the exact same moment the last word of 'The Chant' had been spoken. Then the flask tilted and poured its contents into the carved circle on the granite floor. Once the liquid touched it, it spread around the circle and began to shiver violently. Suddenly the circle of golden liquid began to glow which created a golden mist. The mist flew towards the ceiling creating a barrier of golden mist which sealed the circle from intrusion. The ceromancer nodded. The room was prepared for his session.
-x-
He had been meditating for over an hour inside the circle. It was necessary, performing ceromancy doesn't go without danger. Ones utmost concentration was needed unless one had a death wish. The ceromancer who had been sitting there, still squatted, opened his eyes and briefly inspected the space within the barrier. If something was amiss, he better leave right now. Luckily he found nothing to be amiss and decided to finally start his session.
Two cubes of wax hovered in the direction of two of the knives, one of the cubes was baby blue, the other baby pink. They would soon be symbolizing gender. The knives shot up, as if they were predators with the wax as their prey, and began to chop into the cubes. A few minutes later, two simple humanoid wax figures were chopped out of the wax. The figures were not larger then the index finger of an adult man, and were not at all detailed. The only thing that made them to be considered humanoid was that they both had a head, two arms and two legs. They hovered towards the bronze scales and rested there for a few seconds, each on their own scale. Then they hovered towards the crystal bowl in which they became still.
While the figures were hovering towards the crystal bowl, a flask with an orange liquid persecuted them and emptied its liquid into the bowl which was immediately absorbed by the two wax figures. The petroleum burner flared up and a flask with a liquid that had the color of water emptied itself into the bowl. Thereafter a ladle hovered towards the crystal bowl and stirred three times counter clockwise before it hovered back to its place on the dais.
The crystal bowl hovered carefully towards the petroleum burner and stilled itself just out of reach of the flame. The liquid in the bowl started to boil and the two wax figures started to deform. Another liquid was poured into the bowl, this time a forest green liquid. The contents within the bowl started to sizzle and swirl. Quickly a knife hovered towards a night blue cube of wax and began to cut. Meanwhile the sizzling liquid in the bowl started to boil over. A cut piece of the blue wax hovered quickly towards the bowl and dropped itself. The sizzling, swirling and over boiling stopped. "Phew that was close."
The knives were cutting figures out of a lime green cube of wax. It was necessary to determine the continent of a yet unknown mage. When the knives were done the figures hovered towards the bowl and dropped their selves. WHAM! the contents of the bowl started foaming and awful steam and smell rose up from the concoction. "Masr help me!" cursed the ceromancer while he directed the knifes to cut into a black piece of wax which was deposed onto the bowl. It didn't work. "Red, White!" The ceromancer thought franticly. A fraction of a second later the knives were cutting into a red and white cube of wax. "Purple!" Another knife started cutting into a purple cube while the red and white wax figures flew towards the bowl which contents had started to swirl and sizzle again.
"Faster!" the ceromancer commanded the knife that was cutting into the purple wax. The figure detached itself and hovered at top speed towards the bowl. As soon as it dropped itself the petroleum burner went out, a clean ladle hovered towards the bowl and stirred the concoction one time clockwise before it turned back to its place on the dais. A black damp smelling like sulphur rose up from the bowl. "Masr, no!" he thought panicked.
"Conglacio!" called the ceromancer with his hand outstretched. The contents of the bowl froze at once including the damp that hang above the bowl.
"Centigradius Venti!" The concoction warmed up to exactly twenty degree Celsius.
"Migro-" BOOM! "-Sospito!" the ceromancer called out desperately.
The bowl was transported to safety at the exact moment that the sulphuric fumes lashed itself onto the ceromancer who fell with a thud onto the floor due to the disrupting magic that attached itself onto his body.
Then his world went black.
-x-
"Master Aldrick, Master Aldrick!" A young security goblin ran into the ornately decorated room. The old ceromaster looked up from the scroll he was studying and asked in the goblin's native tongue, "Why the rush, young goblin?" The goblin answered with a tone of urgency "Master, bad news. The Save-Orb of Thondsen has been flickering. The blood sample has turned black!"
Master Aldrick was shocked but quickly shook himself out of his stupor. "And do the logs have his current location?" he asked the goblin while turning a bracelet around his arm.
"The logs say he is in Session Cellar twelve." the goblin said hastily.
The ceromaster bit hard on his index finger until it bled. Then he put his bleeding finger to one of the beads on his bracelet. It glowed green for a moment then he spoke
"Ceromancers tower, speaking with Aldrick. Are you there?" A short moment later a voice sounded from his bracelet. "Life Guild, speaking with Alb. Present."
"We have a case fifteen ritual distortion in Cellar twelve. Over"
"Team on location in five minutes. Over."
"Thank you. End"
Master Aldrick tapped the bead again and healed his index finger, then he turned to the goblin and said "please be so kind to let them in will you?" The goblin nodded and sped towards the entrance.
-x-
He had been unconscious for over three weeks. His blood sample hadn't filtered out the black symptoms of death, but there still was a meager amount of hope because his Save-Orb was still flickering. The curers had been injecting various soma's to filter the sulphuric acids out of his body, the phrenologists had tried to repair the magical damage on his mind and the goblins were guarding the hospital on the ceromaster's orders. The auramancers had fled after seeing his completely black aura, even though it was their job to repair the magical channels. A lot of ceromancers had given up hope, even though they knew that his orb was still flickering. The ceromaster however was unconcerned. As soon as Thomdsen was brought to the hospital, he went to the Session Cellar and came out two hours later with the knowledge that Thondsen would live.
Currently however, Thondsen seemed to be awakening. A curer sped into his room, looked over some papers that had been placed there to monitor the patient's health, took out a magnetic cube from one of her pockets and attached it to an indent on the headboard of the bed in which the ceromanncer was laying. Then she took a kaleidoscope from a shelf, put it on a tripod that was standing at the other side of the bed, and attached another magnetic cube to the upper side of the instrument.
She tapped the cube on the instrument with a reddish gemstone and looked through the lens. The magical enhanced beads of glass within the kaleidoscope began to move and finally settled down into a symmetric pattern. Then she took a piece of papyrus from a table on which a kaleidoscopic pattern was painted. It had been recorded nine months ago when Thondsen had came by for his yearly checkup. She keenly compared the two patterns and breathed a sigh of relief. He had been lucky.
