[ WP ] Everyone is born with their soulmate 's name written on the sole of their foot . Your foot has a name on it , but it is n't written in any known language .

Victor ran up the torch-lit hallway, a mad light gleaming in his eyes, frantically trying to keep all of his papers bundled up under his arm instead of strewn across the hallway behind him. He was already behind schedule, and doubling back for lost papers was the last thing on his to-do list. Today was the day that some of his life ’ s work would come to fruition, a true summoning. 
 
 Magicians and warlocks had been summoning splinters of otherworldly souls for centuries, but each was little more than a slice of power that obeyed commands… or didn ’ t, if you screwed up the ritual. But nobody had really been able to pull an entire soul or being from one plane to another. Until today. 
 
 As he approached the thick wood door that led to the chamber allotted for him, Victor slowed down and adjusted his vest, this summoning would be permanent, so a good first impression was vital. He pushed open the door and carefully moved his way into the dark chamber, the only light glimmering from a few candles that burned with purple flame. Different from traditional rituals, Victor didn ’ t actually have to chant or spill blood or anything unsavory, a true summoning ( if his efforts weren ’ t in vain ) should only require a complicated seal constructed on the ground and power, lots of power. 
 
 Removing the long coat that was a sign of his high rank at the academy, Victor knelt on the ground in front of the complicated dark purple rune that would be the entry point for the summoned being. Rolling up his sleeves, he placed his hands into the center of two circles that extended out from the main circular rune, putting him in an almost prayer-like position. Immediately, the candles in the room flared up with a bright purple light, the ceiling of the tall chamber illuminated for a moment. Then all was dark as the light from the candles disappeared. 
 The summoner ’ s heart began to beat rapidly, nothing had gone terribly wrong… yet. As he felt the rune draining more and more of his stored power, he bit down on a crystal he had been keeping in his mouth, shattering it and replenishing his reserves of power. He had four more, but at the rate the rune was guzzling energy, four might not be enough. 
 
 Swallowing the lump in his throat, Victor continued on with the ritual. As terrible as running out of power would be, stopping halfway was an even worse idea. Imagine lighting a fire in a forest and letting it burn for a few hours. Then immediately transfer all of that fire and energy to a single point. Stopping midway was equivalent to suicide. 
 Victor began to reflect on the choices that had led him to this point. He was from a noble family, well off and of reasonably high social standing, and there was no war or famine or any major problems while was growing up. 
 In other words, it was incredibly boring. 
 
 Just before Victor was born however, some magician had capitalized on the extended peace and moved his research and practice away from offensive magic to a more passive sort. The soft-brained sop turned to “ love magic. ” The oaf. 
 
 Regardless, he cast a ward on the entire city that would “ delve into the depths of time and return the name of the second half of one ’ s soul to be placed upon the sole ” or some such nonsense. So all of his siblings and friends had artsy little scribblings on their feet that spelled out Clarence, or William, or Luke, or Marissa, etc. 
 
 But Victor? He got some crazy looking triangular symbol with interlacing circles and hexagons. A defect in the ward. This, however, branded him as a “ lost soul ” as the other half of his soul was geometry, or so the jokes and rumors told. 
 
 “ Pah, let them enjoy their petty romances, ” he thought, “ I have discovered the fount of true power! ” 
 Just then he realized he was almost depleted of energy again, and so shattered another of the crystals in his mouth. A terrible taste covered his tongue and Victor nearly spat out the remaining crystals in surprise, 
 “ A bad crystal! ” He thought in dismay, “ of all the rotten luck to have gotten a bad crystal with spent power! ” 
 Quickly, he shattered another one, which was perfectly normal. Soothing his nerves, Victor continued to channel power into the rune. Well, more like the rune drew his power, whether he wanted it or not. 
 
 After a few more minutes, the rune began to glow faintly, illuminating the pitch-black chamber, revealing a grinning magician, excited for the final stages of the summoning. However, the rune ’ s rate of consumption was simply too high, almost increasing even. 
 
 Gritting his teeth, Victor broke the last piece he had in his mouth, desperately hoping the ritual would end before he did. 
 
 The rune began to glow brighter and brighter as the power drain magnified itself repeatedly, draining almost a quarter of the crystal ’ s power in mere seconds. 
 
 His eyes were wide in fear as the rune was glowing almost as bright as the sun, the entire chamber clearly visible at this point. He felt the last of his power drain into the rune. Then, terrifyingly, he felt some of his own soul, or life, be drawn into the rune. 
 
 Gasping at the pain it caused, but too fearful to disrupt the procedure now, Victor collapsed to the ground, his head just missing the outside of the rune. 
 
 Searing fire ripped through his chest, radiating from his hands up to his head, and then the world was dark. 
 
... 
 
 “ Hello? ” 
 
 “ Are you… alive? ” 
 
 Victor roused himself from unconsciousness at the sound of a soft voice. Prying his eyes open as if they were heavy metal gates, he realized he was sprawled across the stone chamber ’ s rough floor, his hands still in the center of the auxiliary circles. But the rune was pitch black, as if the rune had lit on fire and left behind only a burn mark. 
 
 “ Oh! ” The voice exclaimed, seeing his movement. 
 
 Startled, Victor pushed himself backwards, landing on his rear and staring up at… well… what appeared to be a girl made of fire, standing in front of him inquisitively. 
 
 He stared slack-jawed at the being, desperately trying to think of something to say. 
 
 “ If it ’ s not too much of a bother, where am I? Who are you? ” 
 
 Victor realized that the girl ’ s mouth wasn ’ t moving, he was hearing the words directly in his mind. 
 
 “ You are at the academy of magic, in the Democratic Republic of Otharia, ” he managed to speak. But the girl showed no reaction. 
 
 Realizing that she might not have functional hearing… because she was apparently made of fire, he sort of, thought the same phrase. 
 
 The girl ’ s eyes widened, “ I ’ ve never heard of either of those, who are you? How did I get here? ” 
 
 “ I ’ m Victor, a summoner, and that is how you arrived here, I summoned you through the planes of existence. ” He thought-answered. 
 
 “ Victor… ” She cocked her head to the side, “ What a strange name. I ’ m Annaxtoria ” 
 
 “ Annaxtoria? ” He replied. 
 
 Realizing he was still sitting on the ground, Victor rose to his feet and thought, “ How do you spell that? ” 
 
 “ Spell? ” She asked. 
 
 “ Write it down? Communicate it in a way that isn ’ t talking, or rather, what we ’ re doing now. ” 
 
 “ Oh, ” Annaxtoria smiled, “ like this! ” 
 
 To Victor ’ s surprise, fire trailed from her hands as she moved them through the air, forming a familiar looking symbol. 
 
 When she finished, Victor pondered over the strange triangular looking symbol, desperately trying to remember where he had seen it before. Then it hit him. 
 
 Oh this was going to be strange. 

