This is a story I wrote a long while ago, but never got around to posting, revised and rewritten to sate the new demand for background and stories. Some of the things used in this story, in particular the gate into the void, don't fit so well into the fluff as it is now, and should probably be changed.


The Summoning

Four angels stood in the chamber, each standing beside a great faceted crystal that shimmered in the soft light that seemed to permeate the walls of the structure. Each was a Virtue of some renown, chosen with great care for their part in this most holy of rituals. They stood silent, unmoving, facing the centre of the room. At the centre was a circular raised plinth, its marble stonework carved with runes in the Gilded Tongue of the angels. In the centre of the plinth was a perfectly circular hole that glowed with blue light, with four golden vanes surrounding it, curving slightly inwards. This was the gate, the one physical portal to the Angelic void where the spirits of those angels who had fallen in battle went to rest and regain their power.
Suddenly the great doors to the chamber of the gate swung open, and through them walked Raziel, angel of mysteries, keeper of the Great Library of the Old Ones, High Sorcerer of the Isle of Stars, possessor of more knowledge than any other living being. The great Seraph walked slowly towards the gate, leaning upon his ancient staff, followed by the eyes of his virtues. When he reached the plinth he stepped up, stood before the gate, and spoke, his formal tone an indicator of the age of the ritual they were about to perform, a treasured memory from a time long gone.
“Brethren, as you know, we must begin the ritual of summoning at once. A great evil marches ever closer, spewed from the gate of chaos, and the power of he who slumbers is needed to combat it.”
Raziel laid his staff on the ground, raised his hands and started speaking the words of the ritual. The four Virtues stirred from their silent vigil, and added their voices to his, weaving the spell of summoning. Power flowed from each of the Virtues into the crystal beside him or her, and faint waves of energy could be seen, running from the crystals to the vanes, which began to glow with power. As the energy flowed, the faintest of outlines formed in the portal. At first it was as insubstantial as mist, the only indicator of it’s presence being the refraction of the light waves that passed across it, creating a near-invisible, glimmering outline. As the spell poured more energy into the portal, the figure began to take on substance, becoming more and more solid. Whereas before the figure was only vaguely humanoid, details began to appear. Shapeless hands formed fingers, clothes appeared from the formless body, muscles etched themselves along arms and legs as the vanes of light grew brighter and the voices of the five Angels grew stronger. When Raziel spoke the final syllable, there was an angel standing there, his form ghostly and partly transparent, but recognisable. A massive angel, some 8 feet tall, his wings burning with white fire. The Powers fell silent, and Raziel gently dropped to one knee and bowed his head.
“Greetings Sephiroth” He said. “I am sorry that I am once again forced to call on you in this manner”.
The great lord of angels inclined his head in return, and spoke.
“It is not your fault that the legions of the despised chaos press upon our borders with increased ferocity” Sephiroth spoke, his voice deep and booming, filling the entire chamber with its sonorous note, despite it’s great size.
“Nor is it your fault that the lesser races continue their petty bickering and leave us alone to face to onrushing tide. You should not hold yourself accountable for the foolishness of others. What task does merit waking me from my slumber in the void?”
“The legions of the damned march to war and once again your strength is needed to turn them back.” Spoke Raziel, straightening up, but keeping his head bowed slightly at a respectful angle.
"The daemonic hordes have spewed forth from the corrupted gate to the south as they do so often, but this time they are lead by a great daemon of Khorne, a Bloodthirster. None of the Seraphs are currently near to the city, and none of the Cherubim here are powerful enough to face this incarnation of evil, so once again I am forced to call upon your services, my lord.” Sephiroth growled, low and menacing, at the mention of the daemon.
“Then indeed I am needed. This beast cannot be allowed to pass the barrier set down so long ago. I shall prepare myself, you may begin the summoning ritual when you are ready, Raziel. Do not keep me waiting.”
Raziel nodded and waved his hand, dissipating the image. The ghostly form of Sephiroth faded away, and Raziel signalled to his powers to begin the ritual of rebirth. The four angels focussed on their crystals once again, and began to chant, more powerfully and strongly than before. Raziel added his voice to their, his hands weaving through the air, summoning and binding the energies needed to draw a being of Sephiroth’s power to this plane. Light burst from the crystals into the golden vanes, no longer a barely visible flow, but a great stream of energy. The voices of the angels grew louder as thy channelled all their power into the gate. A spherical rainbow of light appeared round the portal, touching the vanes. The border between the realms. The room became filled with whispers, the voices of those angels still too weak in the void to return. Sephiroth began to appear again in the portal, more solid than before, his face locked in a grimace of concentration as he strove to push himself through the barrier. The golden vanes glowed with the light of a thousand suns. The rainbow shield shone with glistening light. Raziel and his angels roared out the final syllable of the spell, and with a colossal roar, and a great burst of sound from the portal, Sephiroth burst through the shield with a step and landed heavily on the other side of the plinth. The four virtues sank to the floor, their energies exhausted. Sephiroth kneeled, resting on his knee, breathing heavily, his face creased with stress. As Raziel approached, he forced himself to his feet, and shook his head as if to clear the pain.
“This is not good for me Raziel.” He said in the slightly breathless voice of someone who had just undergone considerable exertions,
“Returning to this plane while I have not fully recovered my powers nor rested is a considerable strain on me. I am not sure how long this can go on for, old friend.”
Raziel inclined his head humbly.
“This I know Sephiroth, but sometimes only your strength is sufficient enough to face the daemonic hordes.”
“I know Raziel” spoke the great angel,
“But you cannot rely on me forever. At one point I will have to sleep deeply in the void and no summoning ritual will awaken me, no matter how dire the need. You will have to find a new champion then, to take up this cup until I return.”
“This I understand great one. If Seraphaal is willing, fate will provide us with someone to hold high the banner of light in that dark time.”
“Aye, if Seraphaal is willing.” Agreed Sephiroth.
“But now I must go. Daemons march on our lands, and my spirit hungers to banish them back to the foul pit from whence they came!” Sephiroth turned towards the door and strode from the room. Raziel sighed heavily, picked up his staff, and slowly followed him out.



Well there you have it, all your criticisms, comments and suggestions are more than welcome. Please tell me what you think!