"Stormlord! Down here!"

The cry came from far below, but its guttural strength reached Pit as he soared high on the breezes above the wet forests of Garion. He banked, spinning in a spiral as he sought out the voice, which belonged to one of the Nagafolk. It was an armored female warrior. Her muscular humanoid upper body was clothed in a hodgepodge of mithril and high steel armor, and a heavy trident was slung across her back. Her heavily scaled tail lashed the water as Pit drew closer, landing on the thick branches of one of many great trees.

"I found signs of life and earth, my Lord."

“What about the rest?”

Another Naga rose from the water. They were wearing at least thirty necklaces of ivory, jade, and gold, many of them studded with glowing Mana crystals. “I’ve sensed all the required elements.” The sniffed and a puff of vapor was sucked into their slitted nostrils. “It is the one. The Astera is here.”

“And it’s better than the other two?”

The two of them nodded in unison.

"Where?"

The warrior pointed to a cave that was nearly invisible from the air—even from his branch he had to duck his head to see its opening. Between a bramble thicket and slantwise stone, the water lapped against a rise of muddy earth before disappearing into the dark gullet of a cave.

"How are we supposed to get it out of there?" Pit asked.

The mage Nagafolk lifted their hands, showing him a massive leather bag stitched with Mana crystals and sigils. “We shall help.”

Waterlogged and caked in grime, Pit flew back, paws clenched tight around a heavy burden. His four wings were powerful, but even Ouranic Dominion had to be flared to keep himself and the enchanted bag aloft.

At least it’s not squirming around.

The Nagafolk had been true to their word and helped, slithering down into the cave where Pit had trouble reaching without his Mask. There, they’d found a warren, filled with cracked bones and an alarmingly large cache of seeds and nuts. At its center, however, they’d found it.

A big ball of dirt.

The thing was covered in roots and the two Naga had been forced to slice it free before they could even attempt to move it. It was too large, however, to fit through the cave’s entrance. The mage said something about the creature shedding the earth when they woke, which let them slip out of the warren with ease, but that didn’t help Pit. He didn’t want it awake, and he certainly wasn’t going to peel off it’s dirty mud blanket.

So he’d ripped the cave open from above.

The Nagafolk had hissed in alarm, but the creature didn’t wake. The dirtball didn’t even jolt as Pit violently wrenched apart stone and earth to reach its hideaway. After that, getting the bag around it had been simple enough.

Now he flew back across the forests of Gharion, passing over the countless lakes that dotted the wetlands. The dark hours of dawn stretched thin around him, and an urgency beat at Pit’s chest with every flap of his wings. The search for the creatures had taken him much of the night—his task, as assigned to him by Yin and Zara. The Deepking had his people hunting down the reagents needed, though had spared a few dozen to help Pit. Those few had uncovered two other possible options for the summoning, but neither had inspired much confidence in Zara or Yin. Unwilling to fail, Pit had gone back out again and again, combing the night-drenched landscape for hours.

He smiled despite the strain of the dirtball. Ahead, the lights of the Abundance Anima spread out into the night, filling it with an ethereal blue radiance. A canopy of leaves drooped downward, trailing like immense vines overhead, as Wind and Water Sprites danced among them. The little creatures flitted around Pit, welcoming him in their shrill almost-voices and blinking their wide-set eyes at him. They swirled about his wings, and a measurable boost of air Mana surged beneath him, reducing the heft of his burden and speed of his flight.

“Thank you!” he trilled.

The Sprites giggled and flew off.

Moments later, Pit reached the Water Palace and the Spirit Tree the dwelled beside it. Magelights were set around the lake, bobbing on the surface and tended to by Nagafolk wearing golden amulets and iron bangles. Others swam among them, organizing in their many thousands as weapons and armor were passed from scaled hands to armored jaws. The Deepking’s army, readying itself for war.

Pit flew over it all, carrying his bag of dirt to the base of the Abundance Anima, where the roots reached outward to form a hollow against its own trunk. Groaning with relief at a task done, he flew off, heading back to where he’d spotted a few of his friends.

Perhaps two hundred feet from the hollow and bag of dirt, he found Atar and Yin busily inscribing in the mud where the water met the roots of Abundance.

"It doesn't take much to muss these forms," Atar complained. His robes were splattered with muck and his mouth was drawn down in an almost permanent expression of disgust. "Why aren't we using stone tablets? The surface would be far more conducive to these exacting geometries."

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"The summoning must follow the melodies of the Green Wilds," Yin said, floating above. His mane and whiskers rippled in a breeze Pit couldn’t feel from across the path, but the big Drake gestured and it marshaled to his Will. Wind slashed perfect lines into the mud, splattering none of it before leaving a series of sigils in its wake.

"Melodies? The other one wasn't like this," Beef said, dropping a heavy boulder down and sending a splash outward.

"Oaf!" Atar cursed, holding his hand out to keep the muck from splashing his face. "You ruined my inscription!"

"Ah, sorry Atar, this thing is heavy." Beef wiped his brow. "Like I said, in the tower back in Fortress Fenwald. We didn’t do all this. Why now?”

“Different summonings require different rituals, Beef. For this, we must increase the sympathy in our preparations, or else it will all be for naught.”

Atar frowned, his inscription staff pausing. “So these big rocks, they’re in these positions specifically? And the mud is the medium because of its connection to the earth element?"

"Yes," Yin flew over to the boulder, his diamond claws gleaming in the magelights. He swiftly scratched a symbol at the top of the boulder, and it glowed with dusty brown Mana.

"But the stone plates wouldn't work," Atar said, his frown deepening. “Why?”

"The patterns of the Wilds follow their own tune. To draw on this summoning, this power, we must align ourselves with the deepest of old magics. That requires thinking of Harmonics, rather than the System."

Atar considered the mud again, his gray face intent. To Pit's surprise, he got back to work without another word.

"I'm glad you all understand it, because I sure don't." Beef clapped his thick hands together. "What's next?"

"Go to Alister," Yin said. "He's tending to the water reagent."

"Water? Ugh, I just got dry." Beef stumped off, hooves squelching in the mud. He waved at Pit as he passed, before vanishing around one of the roots.

Pit stepped closer, watching the people work around his friends. Skilled Inscriptionists were everywhere, building the complex network of sigils and glyphs with a focus that hadn't wavered in almost twenty hours. It was dark now, but dawn was coming soon.

"Ah, Pit. You have the Astera?” Yin asked, swimming closer.

Pit thrust his beak back toward the hollow. "In there. It's still sleeping, though. Are you sure it's the right thing to get for this? It doesn’t look like the others we got."

"Different goals require different materials. I’m positive you heard me explain that just now.”

Pit shrugged. “I'm just worried I spent two hours wrestling that out of a cave for nothing."

"If you're truly worried, go see Zara. She's tending to the center. She can answer your questions."

Yin flew back to the earth reagent, subtly adjusting some of the boulders Beef had laid down before his claws returned to their scratching. Pit held his groan inside and turned back around, returning once again to the roots of the Abundance Anima. They were absolutely massive, even compared to his enormous stature, towering twice his height as they rose to join the titanic trunk of the Spirit Tree.

When he got to the place where he'd left the bag of dirt, drag marks were all that remained. Complicated sigil lines traced around them, framing the gouges as they extended inward, following the protective curl of the roots. There, beyond the bend, a series of sea-green magelights bobbed in the air.

Zara presided over the center. She was alone, floating on a wave of water Mana and extending a hundred tendrils in all directions. Each flicked outward, forming inscriptions with every movement, her wave pivoting smoothly around the roughly circular hollow. At the exact center of it was the big dirtball, bereft of its leather satchel. Sigils were already marked out across it, too many to count, each connected to a different glyph. Eight of them were carved into the dirtball’s sides at regular intervals, matching with the same glyphs that surrounded it on the ground.

Everything was glowing.

"An Astera," she said, glancing at Pit. "You've done well in finding this one. They're a rare breed, let alone one that slumbers so deeply.”

“Why does that matter, anyway?"

"The Green Wilds beat strongest, where nature holds the greatest sway. Astera have a powerful connection to the Wilds. They're known as Flowerwilts by local legend. They will sprout new growth as fast as they wither the old. Were it awake, they would have fought us, and we'd be left with our second and third options."

Zara glanced at two eggs tucked high up on a shelf, on a knotted shelf of roots. One was the size of a grapefruit, and the other was nearly as big as a yoga ball.

Pit was proud he’d found a better option. “Would they not have worked?”

"Eventually, perhaps. Had we infinite time, it would be a moot issue."

Right. Timing was at the center of everything. Felix had stressed how it all had to happen exactly at noon. Pit still didn't understand the full why of it all, but he didn't have to. All he had to know was that they wouldn't get a second chance to make this work.

Felix and Vess depended on him.

Zara inscribed a few more glyphs as Pit watched, amending portions of the Astera's dirtball until it glowed brighter than before. "The design here is quite sophisticated, even with Felix's changes. I'm honestly quite surprised."

"He had help." Pit was proud of his Companion, but the words had slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them. It was something Felix would have said anyway.

"He certainly did, but his mastery over shaping magic is clearer than ever. Even with the aid of the greatest of mages, this would not be possible without those."

Pit glanced at the domain cores set at the edge of the hollow. Each one was connected to the complicated array, powering it with its own source of elementally attuned Mana: Life. Necromantic. Shadow. Light. Air. Earth. Fire. Water. The standard elements of the Green Wilds filtered into near-crystalline form by a Grandmaster of shaping magic.

"Is there enough time," he asked, "to finish it all?"

"We'll do our part." Zara looked at the ball of dirt. "We only have to rely on Felix to do his."

Five more hours. Then we can start the real work.