World of Summons

Deep in the woods, down a long dirt road, lays an old red brick farmhouse. Night has fallen, and the animals have bedded down. There is a quiet tension in the air, as if the world was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen. The rumble of an engine, and the crunch of gravel shatters the stillness, but the strange tension remains. The mud splattered truck pulls into the open garage, before shutting off. The driver sits inside the vehicle for a moment, before opening the door, and pulling out his bags. The young man doesn't look like he grew up here. His skin is to pale to have spent most of his time outdoors, and his limbs seem to weak to have helped on the farm. However, through a twist of fate, he is the one who has inherited this old place.

Once he has dragged his bags inside, he locks the doors, and checks that all the lights work, and that water is running through the pipes. Once he is satisfied that those basic features are working properly, he flops down onto the couch. The young man shifts slightly, and removes a pair of glasses, setting them down the edge of the fireplace. Sleep comes quickly, but his mind is in no way peaceful.

******

In a void that can best be described as empty of everything, including color, the body of the young man appears. His mind feels numb, as if this is a place that he should not, can not, fully understand. In this place, time has no meaning, and after what feels like both an eternity and and instant later, a strikingly similar young man appears before the first. The only differences between them are their clothes, and the manner in which the hold themselves. The newcomer looks as though he has been ground down by the weight of expectations that he has failed to meet. His shoulders are slumped, his face is numb, and his limbs dangle listlessly. By contrast, the young man from the farmhouse, while not overflowing with vigor, seems to have an quiet mirth to him. It's as if he is in on a joke, that he knows that no one else will enjoy. His gaze is sharp, and he has folded his body to be sitting on a chair that doesn't exist. When he opens his mouth to speak to the newcomer, he becomes aware of two presences that defy the concept of size. Both young men shudder at the realization that there are other beings(?) here, and they may not have much more time. The weary man speaks first.

"We don't have time for politeness, so just listen for now. My name is Theodore Dawnwalker, and I need you to take my place. I come from a world where personal power means everything, and I'm to weak to live with my family. So, if I can't protect them, I'll find someone who will. You are the best match I could possible find. So, I need your help. Please, don't resist the ritual, you're already dead where you came from. I'm sorry to drag you into this, I really am, but this is the only option that will keep my family safe."

When Theodore finished speaking, the other young man threw back his head and laughed. "Alright Theo. Something tells me you're speaking the truth, and I've always been a sucker for helping family. So," the young man leans forward, an eager grin on his face. "What do I need to do now?"

Theo flashes a relieved smile, and answers quickly. "How much of a gamble are you willing to take?"