By Other Hands: Summoners and Shakiel

Every mage of Aden draws power—from the elements, from faith, from blood. And only one kind of mage does not cast spells themselves: commandsThe summoner fights not with his own hand, but with another's—the hand of the spirit he has bound. And at the end of his journey stands a guardian who punishes him for precisely what the summoner has been striving for all his life—forbidden knowledge.

Mage of Borrowed Power

The essence of the summoner is simple and strange: he does not throw lightning or weave spells directly. He calls servitor — the spirit that fights for him, — and all his art is to command this spirit faithfully.

"Ultimately, your success depends on how well you wield the servitor—the summoner's sword and staff."

Keats Montague, "The Summoner's Journal"

A Servitor is both a sword and a staff for a summoner; his own power is almost entirely invested in the ability to command another spirit. He speaks with the spirits of the distant Elyseum, with the creatures of the tribe Cat, and binds them to his will. Like the orcish shaman, like the maestro Khavatari, the summoner lives by borrowed power—and his entire fate depends on keeping what he summoned in check.

Spiritual Scientists

That's why summoners are, first and foremost, scholars. Their founders left behind not feats of heroism, but journals: meticulous records of spirits, angels, and forbidden books.

"I studied the works on the highest spiritual army of light... and compared them with the stories of the spirits of the Kat tribe, summoned from the Elyseum. I learned important things..."

Keats Montague, 1st Circle Summoner, Year of the Empire 1499

Keats Montague, Radyss, Noctisse—summoners from the Imperial era who delved into heretical literature, deciphering the nature of the "Heavenly Host of Angels," and leaving knowledge for those who would follow. But it is precisely this learned thirst for the forbidden that leads them to the one who punishes such thirst.

Shakiel, Guardian of Vision

For the knowledge to which the summoners are drawn has its own formidable guardian.

"The Book of Wisdom of the Temple of Ainhasad records that Shakiel, the guardian of vision, punishes blasphemous scholars who cling to heretical scriptures. It is believed that this supreme spirit of light was summoned to purify religious sects hostile to the Temple of Light back in the era of Elmoreden."

Summoner's Journal

Shakiel is not a monster, but Seraphim, the supreme spirit of light. He was summoned back in the days ElmoredenTo punish apostates and scribes who dabble in the forbidden. And here's the bitter irony: the summoner—himself a scribe, a hunter of the secret knowledge of spirits—on the threshold of mastery meets the very one created to punish for it.

One on One

The Summoner's Test is brutal in its purity. Shakiel appears only to those who alone call upon Tablets of Vision, - and one on one he must be overcome.

"Shakiel must always be encountered alone. He appears when a single person approaches the tablet. If anyone other than the summoner attacks him, he will vanish."

Summoner's Journal

Neither a comrade nor a squad will be of any help here—the moment another's hand touches the seraph, it dissolves. The summoner is left alone with the angel, and in battle, he has nothing but his servitor: he must watch the guardian's Crown of Thorns and command the spirit to halt its attack in time. In other words, here too, it's not one's own hand that decides everything, but how well one commands another's.

One who commands others

This is the essence of a summoner. His strength lies in the hands of others; his mastery lies in the command; and even his highest test is won not by his own blade, but by how skillfully he directs the bound spirit. A mage who lives by borrowed power is judged by borrowed power: can you command even in the presence of an angel?

Thus, summoners close a series of legends about how a hero is forged. A duelist pays with his body, a knight with his honor, an orc with his blood; but a summoner doesn't pay with himself at all—he spends his life commanding others to pay. And therefore, his greatest lesson is perhaps the most difficult of all: to learn to curb the power that doesn't belong to you—and to prevent it from one day commanding you.