I sang the ritual and poured the blood within the Circle Inferior about me. The Greek and Sanskrit symbols of the Circle Superior glowing as they drew power from the sacrifice.

It had taken me months to decipher the ancient tome that had been bequeathed to me. Six to complete my education in the ancient languages, seven to grasp the metaphysics of summoning, finally I’d succeeded.

The glow was becoming unbearably bright, my eyes ached, even after I closed them.

A voice came from before me, low and melodic, “Circe’s Circle of Summoning, well done mortal, that’s quite hard. Do you know why the Circle Inferior is exactly 5.3 feet from the Circle Superior?”

“Resonance between the Circles is maximised at that distance.”

“Yes, indeed, clever, clever mortal. That isn’t all, the summoning needs to be displaced correctly so that the summoned is bound within the Circle Superior. It’s important to displace the summoning.”

I felt a hand, large, clawed, rest on my shoulder.

“Very important indeed,” it said.

“Oh.”