Mancer stood alone in a barren wasteland. A stiff breeze blew, kicking up dust into his face, but he paid it no mind. Beneath his feet, hundreds of glowing purple lines intersected in a massive web of magical circuitry. It was by far the most advanced summoning circle he'd ever drawn, and easily the largest in history. 

“Are you really doing this?” Rixi, his wind sprite, flitted around him at high speed, pausing briefly in front of him to ask the question. 

“Of course,” Mancer mumbled. Though he'd been alone for nearly thirteen years now, he still felt self-conscious about talking to his summons. Even Rixi, his very first contract spirit, had been unable to break the mold to which he'd so naturally conformed. 

She pouted in front of him now, tapping her foot in the air as her dragonfly wings held her aloft. Her black skirt danced in the wind, and her long blond hair twisted into a perpetual curlique. She leaned forward, hands on her hips, with her dark green blouse hanging loosely around her neck. Her nose was just inches away from his, but he ignored her completely, waving her away as he focused on his work. 

“Hmph! You've got some nerve, young man!” The thousand year old air spirit ranted ceaselessly, but it was nothing he hadn't heard before. He brushed her aside once more, taking for granted the very first connection he'd formed in this world. 

Rixi scoffed. “Seriously. You can be so… Ugh! Don't make me call you by your real name, Peri–” 

She was immediately met with a finger stuffed in her face. Rixi recoiled, tumbling backwards in a slow spiral. 

“I've told you not to call me that,” Mancer said irritably, “now leave me alone!” 

“You never complained when Jyna said it,” Rixi spat. She immediately regretted her words, though her pride wouldn't let her show it. Mancer was silent, staring at his lifelong friend despondently. A single tear rolled down his dirt caked face. 

“Mancer, I–” 

“Vanish.” 

At his command, swirling lights enveloped the wind sprite, and a gust of wind blew through the wasteland like the final gasp of death. The tattoo around his ring finger pulsed briefly, then went dark, leaving a hollow, sickening feeling inside of him. Remorse gripped him. She was his very first friend, and he'd dismissed her without a second thought. Cast her away. 

Like a rock that wouldn't skip. 

He knew the pain and terror that came with vanishment, but he couldn't dwell on it. He wouldn't let himself. There was too much to be done. 

He surveyed his handiwork carefully, making sure that no mistake had been made. Summoning circles were already complicated, but this one was beyond anything ever attempted. Satisfied, he readied his mana, drawing from the wellspring of life and pouring every single drop into the circuit at his feet. It didn't seem like nearly enough, but it would be sufficient. It had to be. 

Mancer tensed as raw magic coursed through him, firing every nerve in his body and speeding the course of his blood. His eyes shone in a myriad of colors; red and blue irises swirling into purple pupils. His hair was the green of tarnished copper, and his dark robe billowed around him as the magic circle pulsed rapidly. Blood dripped from his nose, teasing the bone dry ground with the prospect of moisture. The wind quickened. Time seemed to slow as the circle shrunk around him and he squinted as a bright, white light enveloped him. 

The space was completely empty. Not a speck of dust was visible, and all Mancer could see in every direction was an infinite expanse of white. There was not a single shadow cast, as though nothing existed but light, pure and refined. It was perfectly still: A place he had visited countless times before. 

“I seek the time spirit, Chroma,” he said softly. 

Silence greeted him. Mancer bit his lip in annoyance. He didn't think it'd be easy, but he at least expected a response. 

He sighed in frustration and tried to gather his remaining mana. He dipped into the wellspring once more only to find it empty, his power depleted. A sudden pain clutched him, a burning sensation that started from his heart and spread like an agonizing wildfire throughout his body. 

Mancer let out a wordless scream as he experienced, for the first time, a mana drought. He dropped to his knees. Drops of sweat streamed down his face and landed in a small puddle on the bright white ground. He mumbled a curse and drew a dagger. If his mana was depleted, he had only one other choice. 

While mana was the most common offering when summoning, there were other, more potent options available to Mancer. The most effective of these, and yet the most dangerous, was a mage's blood, and Mancer was eighth circle. 

He stared reluctantly at the knife for a moment, and then drew it slowly across his palm. Blood welled up in his hand as he clenched his fist, watching the crimson liquid drip from his hand. It fell to the ground with a heavy plop and the color rippled outward, staining the light red for the briefest of moments. 

“I seek the time spirit, Chroma,” he said once more. 

Immediately, a wisp of power energized the ground in front of him. The air popped as a small, gray flame materialized, swirling into an ether of pure chaos. A voice emanated from it. 

“Wow! Am I finally awake?” The ruler of time yawned loudly, stretching the arms and legs that grew with its stubby little body. He was plump for his size, and yet he was only slightly larger than Mancer's palm.

Mancer stared at him flatly. “I've come for a contract.” 

“Of course you have,” Chroma said, “nobody ever summons me for any other reason. You know the rules, right? I hate explaining them every time.” 

Mancer nodded, and Chroma sighed in relief. 

“Good. Now all that's left is to sign the contract! How much of my power do you want?” 

“All of it.” 

Chroma scratched his head. “Do you know how much that will cost? If I wanted to, I could make you my slave for eternity.” 

“I don't care. I've got nothing left to lose.” 

“Geez,” he sighed, “I don't know if you're brave or just suicidal.” He paused for a moment and then clapped his hands together. “All right! Since you interest me, I won't make you my slave, but you've still gotta pay a hefty price. What are you offering?” Chroma looked him up and down, counting the number of spirits he'd already contracted. “Wow, you're jacked.” 

From head to toe, Mancer was covered in contract symbols; tattoos that proved he had been granted the right to summon countless spirits. In normal circumstances, they were invisible, but other spirits and their contractors could see them if they were strong enough. There was only one that he couldn't hide: Rixi’s contract symbol, the ring around his finger that had lost its luster. 

He pushed thoughts of her out of his mind and focused on the spirit in front of him. Chroma eyed him critically. Throughout Mancer's whole body, there was only one place left. 

“Guess it's decided,” Chroma said, and the contract was signed. 

***

Moments later, Mancer stood once more in the barren wasteland. The massive summoning circle was gone, but he was not alone. A tall young man in a silver suit stood in front of him, his grin resembling a crescent moon. His long white hair fluttered around him as he laughed into the wind. Red, intelligent eyes gleamed behind his maniacal facade.

“So this is where you ran off to,” Edwin Crulisar said mockingly, “I must say, it's a rather dreary locale. I'm sure that even you would find my manor a much more pleasant place. I was a little worried when you disappeared this morning, but I guess there was really nothing to fret about. My toy came back to me after all. Let's go back. It's so much more fun there. The servants will do anything you want without protest! It's… exciting.” 

A shiver ran down his spine as the madman recalled the thrilling sensation of absolute control. He licked his lips voraciously and stared once more at Mancer. 

“What is it that you want?” he asked, “I can give you anything. I am in complete control of this reality. None can disobey me.” He laughed again, chuckling at his own private joke that none but he could understand. Edwin's smile died as he glared coldly at Mancer. 

“And then there's you. You're an enigma. I can't control you. I could just kill you, but that's no fun. I already know you won't join me, so how about this: I'll give you your own empire. Imagine it: Thousands of people subject to your every whim and desire. You, ruling over all, with humanity under your control. It's such a blissful feeling. Pure ecstasy! And I can give it to you. I can give you everything.” 

Mancer’s grim silence stumped Edwin. He'd just been offered the world, and yet it seemed he would refuse. He stepped closer and cupped Mancer's chin, caressing his cheek with his thumb. 

“Why?!” he asked, confounded, “you can have anything you ever wanted! Why do you refuse?!” 

Mancer glared at him with pure malice in his eyes. “You've already killed everything I ever wanted.” 

Edwin flew into another fit of uncontrollable laughter. “You mean… That girl, that bitch, is the reason you defy me?! You can have anyone you want! Why do you insist–” 

“Stop,” Mancer growled, and Edwin froze in place. “I've heard enough from your filthy mouth. Don't defile her memory with your disgusting words.” 

A look of shock crossed Edwin's face, and he found that he could not speak. It was then that he noticed the drastic change in Mancer. A power that he couldn't hide. He had a new contract symbol. His left eye, once swirling with color, was now a dull gray, and in place of his pupil, the hands of a clock ticked off the time. 

Edwin wanted to beg for mercy, but he couldn’t make a sound. He could not move even a finger. All he could do was watch in fear as the lord of spirits looked at him with that same, apathetic gaze. Edwin had never encountered a power stronger than him before, and now that he had, he was terrified. 

Mancer extended his hand, and with a single word, ended Edwin Crulisar's existence.