“Give it up, you know you won’t escape!” Shouted a wizard from the outside of his wards.
Yet despite the distance and the sounds of countless explosions going on around, the man could easily hear the wizard’s voice.
With his face hardening, his teeth gritted and his hands movements slightly increasing in speed, his eyes remained focused on the runes he was finally completing.
The bright red runes on the ground, painted with his very own blood seemingly glowed with the light from the torches placed in an interval on the walls of the ritual room.
Yet, despite the warmth that the torches should bring along its light, the man of easily over a hundred years old only felt endless coldness as the results of his entire life’s work were about to be stolen.
“I have to go faster.” He muttered to himself, his eyes bloodshot as he viewed and reviewed every rune on the ground, his face pale, drained of most of its blood as the old white-haired wizard seemingly grew weaker and weaker as the seconds ticked by.
With a wave of his wand, the time appeared directly in the air, floating as if reassuring, the few minutes before his ritual were both extremely long and fast.
He barely had any time to verify all of his preparations to prevent any accidents.
Yet, despite everything, no hint of hesitation could be seen on his face that seemed to be as calm as the surface of a lake on a windless evening.
~Crash~
“We told you that you wouldn’t be able to hide for long!” Shouted a few dozen wizards in excitement as hundreds of wizards seemingly rushed into the house, fumes following them as they apparated inside his house.
Still as unhurried as ever, knowing there was yet another defence protecting him and granting him a bit more time to complete his work, he carefully walked to the corner of the room.
On a soft pillow, protected by dozens if not hundreds of wards stood a single glass bead that radiated all kinds of colors.
This colorful bead which changed tints from time to time was the greatest masterpiece of his life.
This seemingly simple bead had cost him dozens of years of relentless research, countless riches, endless sacrifices and brought him thousands of enemies and unending problems.
Yet, as he gazed at his work, the jubilation he had thought he would have seemed to be non-existent.
He knew the real reason he felt this way.
There was still a single step to complete, a step he had never planned on journeying on nor a step he was ready to take.
Yet, due to the endless assault by his enemies and the nobles who wished to own the result of his hard work, he had to complete it whether it led him to his death or to a new hope in life.
Looking at the bloody ritual, a swallowing sound could be heard through the room, breaking the air filled with tension.
With the sounds of explosions coming straight from the other side of the magically reinforced door, the man knew he didn’t have much time left.
Walking a bit to the left of the straight center of the ritual circle, he gently placed the currently bloody scarlet orb on the rune symbolizing sacrifice and he himself stood on the second circle to the center right, straight on the rune symbolizing the word absorption.
‘I hope I didn’t miscalculate.’ He thought as he looked at the thousands of runes drawn from his very own blood, all of which had very different meanings yet when placed together formed an incredible yet elaborate rune scheme.
Having literally poured both blood and sweat over this ritual, his mind felt utterly exhausted as he had calculated and prepared as much as he could.
Yet, now, as he stood in the center of the magical storm of energy, he couldn’t help but show some doubts about his most recent work.
As he quickly reviewed everything, knowing that despite doing so, he couldn’t change anything, the ritual having already begun and the time remaining being simply not enough.
Each rune going through his mind, their significance, power, meaning, combinations and the ultimate result of every area of the ritual circle moved through his mind, searching for perhaps any fault or any deficiencies in his ritual.
Yet, as the sound of explosion stopped, the door having completely broken, barely blocking the last wave of magic attacks, his eyes lit up both in fear and disappointment as he finally understood where that unsettling feeling was coming from.
An error had been made, a small rune that disrupted the very essence of the ritual, creating a result that was filled with the unknown, changing its form and essence into something new, something he couldn’t even fathom or understand.
Despite being the second best alchemist in the world, dwarfed only by the legendary alchemist Nicholas Flamel that was still alive even after the numerous claims that he had let himself die and being amongst the top ten best ritualists in the world, his creation that surpassed the times was one he couldn’t perfectly control.
The use of multiple runic languages, ones that were both lost in time and others which were more common made this ritual circle both an absolute mystery to anyone but himself and a complete magical wonder for it could theoretically achieve anything.
With countless rare and expensive materials placed next to every rune of the ritual circle, this single ritual which was supposed to allow him to achieve greatness was now nothing but a large shadow that clouded his mind.
Hesitating no more, the man finally uttered the last syllable of the ancient magic spell he created for the ritual and with it came incredible magical fluctuations.
As space itself started to break all around, the wizards all around both from the light and dark stopped in their tracks.
Being affiliated to noble families, they had gained a certain level of knowledge and they obviously treasured their lives.
The spatial fluctuations in front of them were obviously not only dangerous but the rifts that appeared inside of the ritual circle were filled with a certain deadly aura that made their skin crawl.
In the middle of the ritual, the man felt completely restricted.
He couldn’t move even an inch without touching the tears in space.
As he was wondering with some trepidations what would happen, his eyes wide as if to remember it for the rest of his life should he survive this encounter with forces grander than he could even comprehend, the magical energy seemingly calmed in his surroundings before violently exploding outwards, a large gap that absorbed everything appeared in space and before he could even understand what was happening, his whole body was sucked in along his prized masterpiece.
As the magical energy storm dissipated, nothing remained in the lab of the broken and burning house.
The old man was gone, the same was said about the magical artifact that was believed to be at the same level as the philosopher’s stone.
All that remained was a broken ground, the previous runes completely destroyed in the space turbulence and all materials and notes completely broken after the fierce battle.