For a Friend (Summoner Fanfiction)

Chapter 2: Calling in Old Favors

A/N: Soooo.... alot more was suppose to be happening in this chapter, but it was getting to long so I decided I would cut it in half. So it kinda just turned into a filler chapter. Meh. Enjoy.

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Chapter 2: Calling in Old Favors

Jaspar half carries, half drags my body down the street.

That summoner's demon had caught up with me; probably because I just HAD to stop and take a stroll down memory lane. A vicious thing, the beast had been. Even with my stamina, it had caught up with me, and now, after our battle, I find myself barely conscious. Blood seeps from a jagged and deep gash that the demon landed on my stomach, right above my right hip, (I've rolled my hand in what used to be my uniform's left sleeve and pressed it to the wound to help stem the blood flow, but the makeshift bandage has been soaked through for so long that I don't think it's even helping), and though I can feel in great detail every time my right arm-the one I use when wielding my blade-is jostled, I don't seem to be able to move it. Pain radiates from these two points especially, though several other minor wounds protest as well.

My only blessing is that I decided not to summon Jaspar when the demon cornered me. Jaspar is strong, but against that demon, he would've been out of his league. Not by much, but by enough. And I survived-barely, but I survived-and if I can live through it, then I'm not going to risk Jaspar's life. He was my first demon, with me from the very beginning, and though it might be a weakness, I'll admit that I'm attached to him.

Then again, maybe I should've summoned him, because I barely managed to escape on my own-I was only able to by sending a massive wyrdlight, immediately followed by my sword, into the opposing demon's eye.

"Turn, Jaspar." I croak, my feet scrabbling against the ground as I push into his side, trying to get the message across, as my concentration is too lacking to be able to maintain a mind-to-mind connection.

Jaspar gets the idea, and makes a left turn. It's early in the morning, perhaps an hour before dawn, and save for acouple drunkards and a beggar, the streets are deserted, so no one bothers us. I'm grateful for that; any thieves who would happen by would find us easy pickings. When I infused Jaspar during my little escapade through the woods, it was the first time I'd done so in just under three weeks. Combine that with the fact that his rest only lasted long enough for me to get attacked and then get away, and you have one very exhausted Candid. He might be able to fight off a pair of soldiers, but smart thieves run in packs, and I highly doubt he would have the energy for that. As for me, well, lets just say that if we encounter any resistance, some poor Corcillum resident could very well find my body in an alley.

We travel on for several seconds; my left arm draped over Jaspar's strong shoulders, the rest of my body dragging against the ground. My feet occasionally push off the ground in some semblance of walking, but for the most part my companion is doing all the work, and my head lulls forward, leaving me staring at the ground. Despite my view, it's the smell of flowers more than my quickly failing eyesight that tells me when we've reached the dwarven quarters.

I gather my strength and reach my mind out to Jaspar's, sending him the image of one tent in particular before my concentration fails.

The next thing I know, Jaspar has come to a stop, and I realize that I passed out momentarily. Doing my best to look around (though my vision is to blurry to be of help), I realize we've arrived. Shakily gathering my knees under me, I sit back on my heels. Jaspar plops down next to me, head between his paws, and I lean on him heavily to keep from falling over.