It was time. The book of her choice,<em>The Eye of Ptolemy</em>was set up to one side, page open on the summoning of mediocre level daemons. The room was devoid of anything else aside from left over ingredients. She'd made her friends wait outside to ensure their safety, despite their combination of skepticism, fear and curiousity, and was taking her time drawing each and every line of the pentacle on her hands and knees, lest she make a mistake. She had no experience with any of this, be it the summoning, the drawing or the magic. Certainly not the languages side. From the stories she had read from the books they'd taken, there were fearsome repercussions should even the slightest mistake be made. She could not risk failure.<br/><br/>It had been hard work getting the books, so she'd spent her time well delving into them, shutting herself away for hours, amassing an almost encyclopedic knowledge of the powers of magicians, and the creatures from The Other Place. The books couldn't be found in libraries; only in the homes of true-blue magicians, so some were slightly burned from less than successful raids. None the less she cherished each one for their unusual information. She needed to know all she could were she to challenge the magicians at their own game. As barely a woman, she knew she was at a large disadvantage in years of experience, but time was of the essence.<br/><br/>She stood up and dusted her knees off, chalk stains evident on her jeans. She'd been extremely careful, each line done with a ruler, the rest done as slowly and carefully as she could. The fear of what these things could do was constantly lingering in the back of her mind, telling her not to do this. Her stubbornness and sheer determination had won over in the end of course. This was now her life's obsession. She wanted more than anything the power that caused even herself to pause in fear. Even if it was at the cost of her life, it would be worth it. She'd make good use of her powers, if she survived.<br/><br/>All was ready now. She cracked her knuckles, stood in the summoner's pentacle and folded her arms over her chest. She glanced at the book to make sure all was in order, running through the list she already knew by heart, and, once certain all was prepared, began running over the Shrivelling Fire incantation in her head. Worst case scenario, she would destroy it before it destroyed her. She knew her silver cross necklace would only barely work as a protection, but she had faith in her own skills of survival too.<br/><br/>"<strong>Enough thinking, let's do this.</strong>" She muttered to herself, and so Ruàn began the summoning of Frith, her first Daemon.