Summoning

He had spit in my drink. He had deliberately spit in my drink!

His sneer on his lips and the set of his eyes both held the same unspoken message: ‘What are you going to do about it?’

As I said, I should have left, just got up and got gone. But, perhaps more in amazement than anything, I simply sat there looking at him, wondering dumbly what the hell had gotten into him. And, when it became apparent that I wasn’t going to make any move, either to get away from him or in payback for his insult, he made his grand gesture, his Edward-Norton-gets-fired-in-Fight-Club play.

He reached up to his nose and, taking it between thumb and forefinger, twisted it. As I stared, a rivulet of blood came running down his nostril, pooling on the tip. Satisfied with the result, he suddenly hunched over, and in a loud, harsh voice that sounded nothing like his own he uttered one word.

“Faggot!”

Then, having guaranteed that every eye in the living room would be turning toward him, he jumped backward, crashing into a coffee table, flipping over it, and winding up on his back between the table and a couch.

Everyone froze, as if waiting for something more to happen. Their eyes locked on Steven, who lay still on the floor. Then, they all turned their heads toward me.

My eyes were still riveted on Steven. From my angle, I could see his face clearly, framed by the legs of the table. He turned his head toward me…and I’ll be damned if he didn’t grin at me, the grin of a man who, running toward a soccer ball on a penalty kick, is sending a message to the goalie: ‘You don’t know it yet, but you’ve already lost.’

Then he began moaning piteously, blood smeared around his nose and mouth.

I don’t remember getting to my feet, but I was about three steps across the rug toward him when Sam and Richard stepped in front of me, blocking my path. As others rushed to help Steven, they kept me from going any further forward, though I really had no intention of doing anything other than seeing what Steven was about with his vicious little charade.

I’ll give him this: if they gave Oscars for best performance by a lying little weasel, he would’ve been a shoo-in. He simpered and wailed, tears streaking the blood on his face. He pointed at me and told of how he had only tried to start a conversation, to offer me comfort, and I had slapped him across the face, and then shoved him into the table. He drew on the sympathies of all present as the aggrieved party who’d done nothing to deserve such treatment…especially since I was now sans Sara, and could be considered an outsider, an interloper.

As he carried on, Sam looked at me and shook my head. Just loud enough to be heard, he whispered, “He’s been running you down to everyone since last month, Daniel. He’s even extracted a promise from Gerry that, if you caused any type of scene or disruption, you’d be kicked out and not invited back. And now…” his voice trailed off into silence as he looked back toward Steven, who was now propped up on the couch, sucking up the sympathy of those gathered around him.

Things moved quite quickly after that. Gerry, not wanting to take all the responsibility on himself, called for a vote on banishing me from the club. When asked to raise their hands if voting yes, only two hands didn’t go up: Sam’s and Richard’s. Less than a minute later I was out in the driveway, with the admonishment not to come back. As I looked back at the house on that evening, I saw Steven looking out the window at me, grinning a victory grin. As I walked to my car across the street, I cursed about what had happened, and I cursed Steven’s petty little game…but I had no illusions about returning to a place where I obviously wasn’t wanted.

But now, Steven lay before me unmoving, unblinking, and unthinking. I had simply frozen his muscles and locked his mind, trying to keep him from getting back into the dungeon to spoil the entrance I had planned. But now, as he lay helpless, I wondered if he might utter the same words as Jupiter in Prometheus Unbound:

 Mercy! Mercy!

 No pity, no release, no respite! Oh,

 That thou wouldst make mine enemy my judge,

Even where he hangs, seared by my long revenge…

He had sought vengeance upon me, and won. But now, as I held him in my power, I wondered if he would be as quick to cry for mercy as he was to inflict his desire to humiliate and exile me?

There was only one way to find out.

“Olympias laughed at me, of course…an actual laugh of good-natured sympathy at my lack of understanding. Though she had shown me the iron demeanor of a queen used to the intrigues and bloody back-stabbing, her laugh at that moment made her look warm and human, and that feeling was only amplified when she patted the back of my hand before continuing.

“”Poor Merlin! Of course you know not of what I speak! How odd it is to me to sit here and know your destiny better than I know my own! But, that is why I am here…to offer you your destiny, knowing you will accept it, yet hoping, in some way, that you might not!

“”I have lived through many centuries, Merlin, and have seen the rise and fall of many an empire. The ring draws me to places where those to whom it might belong are living, and, by its command, I was drawn to Camelot.

“”I lingered in the kingdom for several seasons, finding no one who seemed destined to wear the ring. Instead, the two men who it seemed it might be most suited – Arthur himself, and Sir Lancelot – did not set off the sympathetic harmonies in the ring that let me know that their destinies were tied to its use. No, there was no one in the kingdom that seemed in any way tied to the ring…until one day, the wizard Merlin and I came into sight of each other as we passed in opposite directions at the main gate of the castle. The ring buzzed angrily on my finger, and seemed literally to raise my hand of its own accord, pointing directly at the mage. Startled, he bore down upon me, perceiving me as some sort of threat. But, when he was within a few feet of me, he noticed the ring upon my finger, and, quite suddenly, he began to smile. As he drew closer, I began to feel faint, and he stopped a few paces from me, as if he knew what discomfort his presence was causing me.

“”He stood still, looking me up and down, as if comparing me to some picture in his mind. Still smiling, he said “Come tonight to the castle keep, sometime after the changing of the guard for evenwatch. Leave the ring where it cannot be seen, but where you can find it easily afterward. You will know why after we talk.” And then, without a glance backward, he walked away from me and into the forests surrounding the castle.

“”As he walked away, the pain being exerted by the ring faded, but I could not fathom what might have caused it! Usually, if someone is to be a ringwielder, there is a sense within me that I must find a way to be near that person, to offer them the chance to have the ring for themselves. It is not an unpleasant feeling, rather more an urge – something akin to what I’m feeling as I stand here with you now. But the feeling I had then was more like an electrical shock, entirely unpleasant. I had my doubts that I should want to meet Merlin again, no matter what he had to say to me!

“”But, my curiosity proved stronger than my aversion, and soon after evenwatch had begun, I found myself in the castle keep, the ring left safely inside the pallet of straw which served as my bed each night. Once there, I did not have to wait long, for Merlin appeared directly and beckoned me to him. We ascended a set of stairs together, him leading the way, until he opened a door at the very top of the staircase and waved me inside.

“”He ushered me to a chair, and then swung a kettle into the hearth above the fire. Only then did he sit in a chair opposite me. However, he still did not talk; he only looked at me, sweeping his eyes over me as if to find some flaw or imperfection.

“”I used the silence to look him over as well. His head was bare, though several pointed hats sat perched in various places throughout the room. His hair was totally white, and it ran in uncontrolled cascades from his head, over his shoulders, and down his back. His whiskers were also long and flowing, and his mouth was not visible through the tangle of white locks. He wore long flowing robes, with billowing sleeves, his hands invisible unless he held his hands outward so they could fall backward, out of the way. Around his neck, he wore a simple silver chain, with a matching silver charm a pentacle, as befitted his status as a wizard. His look and manner befitted his reputation as a wise and powerful counselor and magician.

“”Only when the water had boiled and he had brought me a cup of very good tea did he actually begin to speak. “So, Olympias, you have finally made your way back to me after all these years.”

“”Now, I had no idea what he meant, but he held up his hand, as if to silence any reply I might make. In doing so, the sleeve of his robe fell backward and down, and I saw his left hand clearly for the first time.

“”On his ring finger sat the ring of Solomon! Quite quickly, I thought I understood why he had bid me to leave the ring behind. There should be only one ring of Solomon in existence, and the presence of a second ring is likely what made the one I carried exert such a painful effect on my hand. But, that didn’t explain how HE was wearing the ring at that moment. Or how he knew my name!

“””How I know your name is easy enough. We have met before…or mayhap I should say, we have yet to meet. In any case, this meeting tonight closes a circle that spans almost 2000 years. You needed to be here, in order to know something of your own destiny, and something of mine. In a few moments, you will finish your tea, and we will part, and the ring will start pushing you toward your next meeting with destiny.

“””At the end of the world, you shall come upon a man alone. You shall offer him this ring, and, when he hesitates, you should take this,” he produced a small, black book from the pocket of his robes, “and give it to him, and say only this: It is a gift from the past, to a man with a future that runs backward rather than forward. That will spur him to accept his destiny.

“””As for you, my dear, I have a gift for you as well.” He again reached into his robes, and produced a wooden box, and handed it to me. I opened the lid, and inside rested a small charm, what the Celts called a rune. Carved in silver, it was attached to a small black cord, to hang around the neck.

“””You have a long journey ahead of you, Olympias, and many trials which you will face. I hope that this rune will help you find the rightful end to your journey. It is called ‘Poerdh.’ It influences the rightful outcome of the destiny of its wearer. I entreat you to wear it, for I have invested it with a bit of power, so that your path may be a bit easier along the way.”

“”He fell silent again then, as I stared at the gift and wondered if I should put it around my neck. Touching it with my finger, I felt a slight throb of power, and then a feeling of comfort and security washed over me. It was as if the charm was trying to reassure me that it meant me no harm. Thinking it would be bad manners to turn down such a gift, I slipped the knotted cord over my head, and let the charm settle face out atop my gray cloth dress. We remained in silence until the last sip of tea was gone, and then he quickly showed me out. As he predicted, we never spoke again…in fact, the few times I caught his eye across a courtyard or pathway, he looked through me, as if we had never met. It was no matter, for soon I was gone from Camelot and headed back into Europe for my next meeting with destiny.

“Olympias reached under her dress and pulled the end of a silver chain from underneath the fabric. On the end of the chain was a charm, I suppose the rune that had been given to her so long ago by Merlin…and at that point, all the little pieces of the story she had been telling since she began speaking came together in my mind.

“”You think I, in some way, am Merlin, wizard to King Arthur?” I asked her, incredulous. Pointing at the rune, I said, “You think I gave you that charm? That I was the one who told you about meeting a man at the end of the world? Are you insane?”

“She only smiled at my accusation, as if I had made a jest. “Do I think that you, the man sitting here in front of me, gave me this?” She fingered the rune idly. “No, I do not think that precisely. What I think is simple in summary, yet complex by its very nature. What I think is that you will give me this charm…2000 years from now.

“”Or, should I say, 2000 years ago?”

I decided not to return Steven’s mind to him yet, but instead simply instructed his body to rise from its prone position to its feet. “Now…what to do with you?” I mused.

I did not really believe that I had a greatly evil nature. While it was true that I greatly enjoyed the control aspects of being dominant in a D/s relationship, I never pushed anyone farther than they wanted to go during play. If they said their safe word, or seemed more in distress than pleasured, then I would stop whatever was happening until I was sure that everything was okay.

But, looking at Steven at this moment, I felt something build inside me that could only be described as a dark rage.

I wanted Steven to hurt. And I didn’t want him to enjoy it.

Pulling a chair out from underneath the dining room table, I placed it in the exact center of the open space between the table, the kitchen counter, and the hutch that hugged the wall across from the table. Stepping back, I had my zombified captive walk over to stand in front of the chair. He was wearing black leather pants, a black t-shirt, and pointy black boots; a leather wrist cuff with two small “D” rings worn on his left arm was his only outward adornment. With a thought from me, his clothes disappeared, leaving him dressed only in a pale blue Speedo that, given the way it emphasized the shape and bulge of his cock, was likely about four times too small for him. I left him his wrist cuff, and it went well with the gold ring that penetrated and dangled from each of his nipples.

At my mental command, Steven sat in the chair, spreading his legs so that each ankle made contact with the leg of the chair it was closest to. His arms went behind the chair, crossing at the wrists. A placed a compulsion in his mind that he had been bound to the chair by his wrists and ankles, and no matter how hard he struggled, he could not break free.

I walked over to the dining room light switch and turned off the ceiling light. To each side and directly in front of him, powerful halogen lamps – the kind used atop portable generators to illuminate large outdoor areas – materialized into being. It didn’t matter that there were no generators attached. The power of the ring would bring them to life when I was ready.

Steven’s body sat rigid and immobile, staring straight ahead but looking at nothing. Standing there looking at him, I knew that I could very simply get the answers I wanted from him by just looking into his mind, probing until I had what I wanted. Except…I could not let it be that simple.

Of the two words that might be used to describe what was to come for Steven, “hard” would be the first.

“Painful” would be the other.

“I tell you, lad, her tale was simply too fanciful to be anything short of lunacy. Any truly sane person would have dismissed her out of hand, sure that she was madder than the fabled Hatter.

“And yet, she evinced no sense of madness, no wild-eyed intensity which would have given me confirmation of what my brain was telling me. Instead, she sat calmly smiling at me, while she traced the pattern of the rune around her neck with one finger. But, before I could even put my disbelief into words, she was speaking again.

“”I know it is hard for you to believe, and I know you desire some proof of what I am telling you. And you shall have it, I promise. But let me finish before you say anything else.

“”I have told you that the demon Ornias can control me as it wishes during those periods when the ring is being worn by one it accepts as its wielder. But, Ornias must have a vessel in which to act, for its agreement with me does not allow its demon flesh to touch my own. This simple fact joins our destinies thusly: when you take the ring, as I am sure you will, Ornias cannot touch you. And, since you are the last human being on this planet, Ornias will have no vessel through which to use me. Thus, it will have no way to continue holding power over me. And so I imagine I will be free, once and for all, of the burden and curse I have carried for more than two millennia. But, having pondered this day for years, I find myself quite fearful of its outcome.

“”Your fate, Merlin of Camelot, has already been written, and lacks only your acceptance of the ring to be set in motion. When you take it, if I am indeed free, I may live out a natural lifespan, or I may find myself trapped in the same unnatural state of perpetual living as I have endured from the time my son bound me to the ring. Either way, I will be alone here, at the end of the world, with no reason to go forward. So, knowing this, I have thought sometimes to deprive you of your destiny as ringwielder, and in doing so guarantee my own continued existence and purpose, perhaps on this planet, or perhaps beyond Earth with some future extension of humanity.

“”But, the man who gave me this rune knew of how my uncertainty regarding my own fate would grow as I moved closer to this day. I believe that he – that is, you – gave it to me so that, when I had to make my choice, I would not forget that for every ending there is a beginning; for each death of purpose, new purpose is found.

“”So I have made my choice. It is to be here, at this moment in time, to offer you the chance to accept your destiny, no matter how it may affect my own. And, holding your charm in my fingers, I know that this decision is right and true, and I am reassured in some way that my own destiny will not be as bleak as I have often feared.

“She smiled fondly at me, and then held out her left hand, palm up. In it sat the same silver ring you see upon my finger now, the one that also sits on your left hand. “This is your destiny, Merlin. Take it. Take the ring.”

“For a moment I was tempted, lad. But, as I am too often aware now, I am a contrarian at heart. Things that people want me to do often fall upon my own deaf ears, I’m afraid, while those that they would rather I did not attract me like the shark to the smell of blood. Her story was a fine, fanciful invention, and my own future looked bleak and lonely in my hovel at the end of the world…and yet, I could not do as she asked so easily, without seeing at least the one thing she had suggested was brought by her from the past to help guide my decision.

“So I told her, “No.””

As I turned on the portable lights, blinding and hot, I restarted Steven’s mind.

The first thing he heard as he came to his senses was my voice saying, in a bad German accent, “Vee hav vays uff making you tock.”

He had barely comprehended the words before I used my power to squeeze his chest as if he were being crushed in the hand of a giant. When I relaxed my mental grip about ten seconds later, he gasped in agony, gulping air like a fish taken from the water.

“Hello, Stevie boy.” I amplified my voice, but only in his ears; to him it must’ve sounded like God had landed on his left shoulder and was speaking to him in a very, very angry tone of voice.