Summoner: The Demon

Chapter 18

Note: Hi there! Sorry I haven't been able to write, I'm really busy. I don't need any suggestions yet, but you can PM or comment to add any.

Ignatius yelped in surprise as he was awakened from his daydream by a hissing portal to the ether attacking him. Well, alright. It wasn't really attacking him, but he just was caught by surprise. It had probably been opened by Lovett, for none of the cadets could open one so large. A dull brown mite buzzed through, probably Captain Lovett's scout Demon. It was a full grown Scarab, but it's coloring was similar to the one Ignatius had eaten when Fletcher has summoned him for the first time. It made it easier to blend into the dreary home of Demons, the Ether. The giant scrying stone displayed the mite's view passing over the Ether's landscape. It was the Deadlands, somewhere Ignatius had visited on several occasions. A Kamaitachi lurked behind a boulder, gazing with restraint and hunger at Valens. Ignatius had found its name by delving into Fletcher's memory, a trove of strange bits of information. The Kamaitachi slunk away, for he recognized the dangers of attacking a summoner's demon. Battlemages tended to avenge their fallen Demons, no matter how feeble, so in that the Kamaitachi chose wisely. First of all, it wouldn't stand a ghost of a chance if it faced Lysander, Lovett's Griffin. Plus, Valens would escape via the nearby portal, leaving the Demon vulnerable and disappointed. Suddenly, the craggy rocks gave way to a great green expanse with milky clouds. Another place Ignatius knew well, and a dangerous one for a measly mite. It was the migratory grounds of the Shrikes.

Surprisingly, the mite was faring well for no Shrikes were in view. But that didn't mean it was safe, certainly not for, the Shrikes seldom attacked upfront, but injured their weaker prey then hounded them until they succumbed to exhaustion, their injuries, or both. Then the feast began.

When it happened, Ignatius wasn't surprised. The mite's vision swam, and it's wings fluttered dangerously. Now the Shrike was slightly visible from the Occulus, and thankfully it was not the Matriarch. If so, Valens would have already been bird food. Despite that fact, without intervention Valens would surely die. The Demon's wounds were evident, and it's lifeblood dripped from above, and it probably coated the tips of the Shrike's mighty talons. Valens was 3 levels lower, so there was no chance to fight. Only to try the route prone to. Fleeing.

The mite went at a surprising speed, faster then most uninjured ones. However, it was not enough, and it would never be enough. All the odds were stacked against the mite, yet Valens, seemingly possessed by an Orc War Rhino, persevered. The room held its breath. Just then, Valens collapsed no more than a dozen and a half meters from the portal. 

"Get me the Ether Suit," Lovett snapped, ready to go in. Seraph scrambled to the cover fast as a speeding Nanaue. Grunts of exertion sounded, and he called for help. Othello rushed to his aid, and together the dragged it over to Captain Lovett. She donned the suit, and warned them to keep the air tube safe. 

"The atmosphere of the ether is very toxic to humans, so if this tube is compromised in any way, drag me back whether I have Valens or not." 

"Why are you risking so much for a mite?" Tarquin asked, baffled. "You could simply catch another one any day." Lovett gave the noble a stern look, then replied.

"A Demon is not something that you can throw away like a pair of old socks. When you've fought side by side with yours, maybe you'll understand."

And with those words, she jumped into the crackling portal.

"Why is she moving so slow?" Asked Othello as their teacher lumbered through the dusty Ether. 

"She's wearing a huge, metal suit in a scorching wasteland," Fletcher said the words slowly, as if processing them himself. "That's got to be pretty heavy." Seraph nodded sagely, making Ignatius and Sliver, Seraph's Barkling, snicker (In their own Demonic way.).

Lovett advanced slowly but surely, however the Shrike's malevolent gaze fell upon the shining, bronze helmet. It swooped down as she scooped up Valens, but the beast's talons caught her in the helmet, earning a sharp crack. The captain trudged back to the portal, aided by the cadets reeling her in. Ignatius could sense Fletcher's exertion, his sweat from the former and pressure pooling at the base of his nape and making his dark hair shine. When they finally managed to drag Captain Lovett back, they all froze in dismay. 

There was a crack in the glass. 

And worse, the Shrike was heading for them.