“That's not good enough,” he said, pushing the example paper into her hands, “try it again. Keep your hands steady, and be careful where you step.” 

“This is the third time already!” Angelina complained. 

Mancer grabbed her collar and pulled her forward, their foreheads almost touching. “Do you know what could happen if you activate a faulty summoning circle?” he growled. 

Angelina cringed back, twisting away from his grip. “Stop it! That hurts!” 

Mancer released her and she fell backwards, landing hard in the stony grass. She stood up quickly, glaring back at him injuriously. 

“A summoning circle is essentially a portal to another dimension,” he explained gravely, “activating the circle transports you to a space between worlds, called the spirit plane. It's kind of like a middle ground where you can discuss the terms of the contract.” 

“Hmmph. I still don't see why it has to be perfect,” Angelina murmured. 

Mancer tried his best to stay calm in the face of her ignorance. He took a deep breath, reminding himself that she was only a child. 

“Usually, a spirit summoned using its own specific circle cannot harm the contract seeker, but if the circle isn't drawn correctly, or the wrong circle is used, the spirit could kill you. In extreme cases, something else might answer. So tell me: Do you want to use this summoning circle, or do you want to try again?” 

“I'll… I'll draw it again,” she replied dejectedly. 

Mancer nodded expectantly. It was one thing for a simple light experiment to backfire; it was quite another for a summoning spell to malfunction. 

There were some, like Edwin, who purposefully experimented with summoning magic in an attempt to gain the attention of certain eldritch entities. Such entities, while powerful, always demanded a ludicrous price. 

Tumulus erased Angelina's old circle, giving her a fresh start in the softened earth. She dragged a stick across the ground as steadily as she could, drawing six seemingly random loops that formed equidistant mana pockets at predetermined positions within the circle. 

Mancer watched her carefully. As her teacher, it was his responsibility to make sure she had the best resources available to create a proper contract between her and the chaotic mana spirit. After three more tries, she finally had a summoning circle that would function properly. 

Mancer reached into his cloak and pulled out a vial of dark red liquid. He placed it in Angelina's hands, closing them carefully around it. Her eyes widened as she realized what the stoppered glass contained. 

“You have barely enough mana to activate the summoning circle,” Mancer warned, “when you enter the spirit plane, you're going to experience a mana drought. It'll feel like your entire body is burning up from the inside. After it passes, don't try to use your mana again; it could kill you.” 

Angelina looked at him inquisitively. “What am I supposed to use if not mana?” she asked. 

Mancer gestured to the small vial clutched in her hands. “A mage's blood is much more potent than mana. Use that. But remember: Only the blood of a single mage can be used for any given offering. If something drastic happens and my blood doesn't work, give up. You can always try again.” 

Angelina nodded. She held the vial close to her chest, worried that it might suddenly disappear from her grasp. She moved to the center of the circle, careful not to step on any of the lines. The circle itself was of considerable size, though its diameter was only about half of Chroma’s summoning circle. 

The Baron's daughter dipped into her wellspring, a concept she had practiced many times now. She pushed her mana into the circle at her feet, expending every last drop, but it was just barely enough to fill the circle. Her mana pulsed through the circuit, casting a golden glow over the ground around her. 

The chaotic loops spiraled into themselves, remaining equidistant, but straining the circuitry until it snapped, leaving six large mana pockets nested within a pair of eccentric circles. Beams of light shot toward the sky, one from each mana pocket. 

Angelina watched in amazement at the display, but her awe was short lived. The last dregs of ambient mana left her body, and a fiery pain emanated from her heart as she disappeared into the nether. 

Mancer watched her go, wondering briefly if she would heed his warning. It really wasn't any of his concern; he'd told her everything she needed to know. It was up to her to apply them. 

And besides, he had more important things to do than worry about things he could do nothing to change. 

Mancer walked through the forest in search of Rixi, his calls echoing across the woods, but they elicited no response, falling in vain upon the illiterate ears of the woodland creatures. 

Frustrated, he pricked his finger and wiped the blood over Rixi's contract symbol, forcing her to answer his appeal. With a sharp gust of wind, she appeared before him, growing more irritated by the second. 

“Are you finally ready to apologize?” she asked. Her tone implied that he was the only one at fault. 

“Rixi, I need you to unlock my wellspring,” he replied seriously. 

“First you have to promise to take care of yourself. I won't take no for an answer!” 

“Rixi…” 

“Don't you dare start with that inflection!” Rixi complained, “I refuse to let you ignore your own health for the sake of others! I won't let you hurt yourself, Mancer. If locking your mana away is what it takes to prevent that, then I'm perfectly alright with it.” 

“You're being unreasonable! As an eighth circle mage, I have a responsibility–” 

“You’re six!” Rixi interjected, “the only responsibility you have is to yourself!” 

“I have a responsibility to protect those who can't protect themselves,” Mancer finished, “I can't do that without my mana.” 

“Jyna taught you that, didn't she?” Rixi whispered. A tender look filled her eyes, and she smiled gently at him, her expression reflecting a sorrow wider and deeper even than Lake Anfere. 

Mancer said nothing, staring at the ground with a stoic countenance. 

“You don't have to do everything yourself, Mancer,” Rixi continued, “there are other people in this world. People you can rely on. Don't shut them out because you're afraid they'll get hurt.” 

“But if someone else dies because of me…” 

“That's no reason to be alone. Staying away from someone because you don't want them to die is the same as telling them they're not good enough.” She took a deep breath, knowing that her next words would anger him immensely. “Do you remember how much Edwin looked up to you?” 

Mancer nodded, his face a guarded mask. “Where are you going with this?” he demanded. 

“You ignored him back then because you were afraid of what could happen to him, but what if you had just accepted him? I think a lot of things could have been avoided.” 

Mancer's temper flared. “So now you're blaming me for everything?! It's all my fault?! No! You can't pin that on me! Edwin's the one who ruined everything! I didn't do it! He killed Jyna! Not me!” 

“I never said it was your fault, Mancer. I only said that things could have been different.” 

“That's the same thing!” Mancer growled. 

“It's not the same. Your mana was unstable back then, but this time, things could be different! You have the power to forge your own destiny.” 

“I can't forgive him,” he replied, “I won't. He's done too much to me.” 

“But he's a different person now!” Rixi protested, “he hasn't made those choices yet. You can't condemn someone for something they might do in the future!” 

“But I remember it! And that's enough. It's too much, actually. In the thirteen years I was alone in that world, all I saw every time I slept was Jyna. Every dream was of her, and they all ended with Edwin standing over her lifeless body, gloating at me while he mutilated her corpse.” 

Tears fell from Mancer's face, and he wiped them away as if they were the most shameful thing in the world. Rixi floated up to him, holding his face in a tiny hug as the memories flooded out. 

“I couldn't even give her a proper burial,” he wailed, “her face was unrecognizable. My Jyna… My precious Jyna…” His face hardened, and he pulled himself away from her embrace. “I can't let that happen again. I don't care if he's still a child. The next time I see him, I will kill him.” 

Rixi sighed. “I hate seeing you like this, Mancer. It hurts. Can't you understand that? It seems like you feel nothing but hate! There's no place for other people, and it feels like there's no place for me.” 

“That's not true! You'll always be special to me, Rixian. I know we don't exactly see eye to eye, but there's nothing you could do to make me hate you.” 

“You really mean that?” Rixi asked. She stared at him with a solemn hope in her eyes, daring to believe that what he said was true. 

“Of course I do.” 

“Then, will you make the promise?” 

Mancer gave her an anguished smile. “You know I can't do that, Rixi. There's too much at stake.” 

“Your life is all that matters to me,” she retorted. 

“I know that. But there's more to this world than just you and I.” 

“You've really bought into that, haven't you?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“All you think about is Jyna! You're just regurgitating the ideals she repeated! Can't you think for yourself for once?!” 

Mancer was deceptively calm. “Rixi, please stop. I don't want to hear you tarnish her memory like that.” 

“I'm not tarnishing her memory,” Rixi shot back, “I just disagree with her principles. I'm allowed to have my own opinion, aren't I?” 

There was a long, uncomfortable silence. Then an unexpected thing happened: Mancer laughed. Not a cynical or mocking chuckle, but a full throated, belly aching laugh. Rixi watched him anxiously, wondering if he'd finally cracked. 

“What are we even doing?” he asked jovially, “This is stupid. We're just talking in circles.” 

“Yeah. It is. But you still haven't agreed to my terms. Will you make the promise or not?” 

“I've already told you. I can't swear on my wellspring. It's too dangerous.” 

“I won't ask you to do that. Not anymore. But I still need you to give me your word that you'll take better care of yourself. That's all I'm asking.” 

“I can do that,” Mancer relented, “I promise you, Rixi. I'll take better care of myself.” 

“That's enough for me.” Rixi smiled. 

She placed her hands over his heart and reached for his mana, unblocking the flow from his wellspring. The stagnant mana burst to life in a surge of energy, burning up the excess that had stockpiled within. 

Mancer felt refreshed, and the nostalgic feeling of self-assurance washed over him, reminding him of his absolute, nigh omnipotent power. 

He called to Seiche, who flowed out of his arm at his request. He gestured to the shorted out summoning circle in the middle of the glade. 

“I want you to stay here in case Angelina tries something stupid. I warned her, but something tells me she wasn't listening.” 

Seiche nodded her acceptance. Rixi returned to her contract symbol as Mancer reached for his mana, dipping into the wellspring that was threatening to spill over into a mana flood. 

Long distance teleportation wasn't all that difficult. At least, not for Mancer. But teleporting to an unknown area required a coordination spell, which he used now to fix his destination. 

Magic surrounded him like a shimmering tapestry of stars, forming an intricate display of subtle refulgence. 

Mancer took one last look around him, noticing a slight incongruence in Angelina's summoning circle. His eyes locked on Seiche. 

“Be ready,” he said grimly, and he teleported off to war.