It was a late summer night, and the moon shone full. A young man was busy marking away at the ground in the middle of a small circular structure with no roof. It was made of stone, except for the benches, which had been added over the years. There was a door facing a small bridge that led to the building over the lake it sat in the middle of. Eight candles lined the benches, and when the young man finally stood you could make out his appearance by the light.

He stood about five foot ten, and had an average build. His hair was cut short and brown. His eyes hazel, but with a shimmering of red as a reflection of his mood. He wore black baggy pants, and a black vest open in the front. He looked up at the moon and realized it was time to begin the ritual, and sat on the ground in the lotus position.

He chanted:

“On wings of thunder, honor bound,

Search me out, I drum the sound.

Twist and tun in the night, dragon come, my guiding light.

Protector, guardian, friend not foe,

Come to me, see my sigil glow.

Strong and true, this friendship charm,

I beacon thee, protect me from harm.

Around and about my magick swirls,

Come to me, your wings unfurled.

Welcome o guardian of Tsumetai.”

The young man, now done chanting, laid to rest on the floor.