Don't Say Its Name
"How little I am recognized," muttered the youth. "I know that I am capable. Why is it that they do not think so? Why am I not in the summoner's circle? I am qualified."
He pondered and puzzled until he came to only one conclusion: he must prove himself, he must. Once he had, there could be no denying him again.
. . . . . .
"You are not ready."
"Patience."
"There is more than one path to those who wield magic. Do not become obsessed with a path that may be closed off to you."
"You don't understand what it means to be a summoner. Think long upon it and yourself. You will see why in time."
. . . . . .
The lone isolated tower by the sea was perfect. However, he was frustrated by failure. He knew what to do so why was it not working? Something was missing… but what? He searched and he wracked his brain for something-anything-that he had overlooked. And every time he got close to an answer, it slipped away! Oh, but this was so maddening. Why? Why?!
He finally stopped for a time. And he finally thought that ridiculous thought that maybe he was not capable. Maybe this was a waste of time. One more time he vowed. Just one more. And if he failed… then he would pursue another path.
. . . . . .
A full moon shone. He had rested days for this night. His last attempt. No more after this if it ended in failure.
He quietly exhaled, emptied himself like his lungs, and then he reached out. He proceeded through the motions as he had always done. Nothing for a time. No. He clenched his hand… and reached deeper. Deeper and deeper; deeper still. He must go as far as he possibly could, he must give his all.
What? What was that? Did he-? He did. He had something! A trail at the very least, the faintest sense. Follow it. He did.
But then...
What was this? He didn't have something; something had him! He resisted, he pulled, he strained to break away, undo the summoning, anything! Nothing worked! He was caught, and whatever it was on the other side was using him to pull itself out!
The summoning completed itself and he felt something pressing upon his mind. He collapsed like a shattered vessel containing water. He was drained and spent, yet aware of a presence in the room with him.
What had he summoned? It had no form. No substance. Yet it was there all the same. He gathered his strength, still kneeling on the floor on all fours, and tentatively reached out and probed with his mind. He ran into nothing but smooth resistance. It was not a wall; it was simply impossible to even grasp. Whatever the mind of this thing was, he found no flaws or gaps.
This… this was wrong. He couldn't command this thing! He had no control anymore than when he performed the summoning! The formlessness parted and something began to step through…
His eyes widened in horror and his mind filled with a terrible kind of understanding. What stepped before him was something older than recorded history. Something darker than a yawning, starless night. Something the world had desperately tried to forget—and in an instant, the mage, the creature, and the tower itself were lost to all of time. History itself forgot. But one thing that wasn't forgotten… was the name. It must never be said.