THEY SAYI WASSUMMONED
THEY SAY IWAS SUMMONED
ANDRÉA CEBALLOS
©AndréaCeballos2025
Illustration &Design: Louise Samuelsson
Publisher: BoD·Books on Demand, Östermalmstorg 1, 114 42Stockholm, Sweden, bod@bod.se
Printer: LibriPlureos GmbH,Friedensallee 273, 22763 Hamburg, Germany
ISBN:978-91-8134-886-6
PREFACE
Itall startedwithaquestion:Why does everyone always getsummoned so conveniently? Thefollow-up question is then: What wouldhappeniftheydidn’t? With thesetwo questionsasabase, Ifinallysucceeded in writing my very first book.
As inspiration, I’ve used knownauthors,for theirconcepts, ideasand formatting,but most of all, Iusedlight novels as an inspiration forcontent.Inthe end, Iwantedtowrite somethingIwould want to read andwanttoshowothers: This is what’s inside my head. This is howIthink.
This booktookmealmostten yearstocomplete, eightfor the first half,one forthe second half andone forediting. Thereasonwhy it took so long is that Icollapsed,due to exhaustion,in2018, andwriting hasbeenaway to rehabilitate myself back to asomewhatworking person.Inthe beginning, Icould only stay awakefor fiveminutes at atime, butnow I am up 12 hoursaday at least, with aworking capacity of 50%.
As many people have helped me getideas, threeofthemI owespecial thanks to:
JacobSamuelsson, my dear fiancé, withoutbeing able to throw ideasatyou andget ideasback, this book wouldnever seethe lightofday.
Andréa Lindell, thankyou forbeing my very first reader,helpingmeformthe plot andgivingmy characters avoice.
Louise Samuelsson,for thewonderful coverofthisbook.
Lara McEvoy,mydeareditor. You’ve made my book more polished than Icould ever have done.Yourworkwas meticulous, everything from what kind of tone acharacter is using to plot holesand grammar.
SUMMONED LILIANA
Itwas acoldand dark winter evening, snow piling high everywhere. It createdbig,fluffymoundsthattempted youtojump rightintothem. Thecolourofsnow-whiteblendingintothe grey,foggy skywas enough to make anybodyshivertothe bone, even whilewearing afullset of clothesasarmourtocombatit.
Iwenthomefromworkwhile making this observation, workingina storethatsoldand rented DVDs andsoldsickly-sweet candy.
Theonlyother person at work wasthe manager, abrusque manwho freely spokewhateverwas on hismind. He was anicepersonmostdays, butwhenbusinesswentsideways, nobodywas allowedtobehappy.
Needless to say, it wasadecliningbusiness. Ihad to think of workingelsewhere,and we were both awareofit.
Finallyfreefromthe cloyingscent of candythatdrenched thestore,I went outtolockup, turnedaroundand started my walk home.
Itrudged my waythrough thebeautifullylit street.My breath vaporisedinthe airlikewhispsofsmoke,and snow startedtofall.
My life wasquite boring;the only thingI enjoyedwas readingnovelsonmyphone,but Icouldn’tevenafforda tablet formyonlyhobby. Iwas failingclass afterclass in university, sufferingfromfatigue,and workinga part-time jobjustto make enough moneyfor transportation.
Theclasses Itookweremostlymathematics andphysics, with some programming andsomefluff subjects like ‘Feline Behaviourand HowtoCommunicate With Them’. I’dalways wanted to have acat,but time didnot allowit. Therewas barely anytimeleftfor my brotherand friends, letaloneacat.
Afterfinallyarriving home andgreetingmybrother,Martin, Itookoff my snowyshoes andjacket.“Snowy”was acuteword forit.“Thoroughly drenched”would be more appropriate.
My brotherwas my only remainingrelative.
Ourmum anddad died in atrafficaccidentoverten years ago, andsince then, it’s only been my brotherand me.I was happythathewantedtotakecareofmeinstead of lettingme jump betweenfosterhomes.I’d heardthe storiesabout them. We’d stillbeenlivingtogetherbecause we areveryclose to each other, andneither of us hadpartners.
Iwentintothe kitchentomakesometea,brewing thewater just before theboilingpoint.I went with atea called ‘Spring Feeling,’since it’d been snowingthe past couple of weeks.
Settling down on thecouch with my newlybrewedtea,I snuggled up in my favouritecorner. Itookthe remote and startedswitching betweenchannelstofind somethinginteresting to watchwhenmybrother came andsat next to me.
‘How canyou skip betweenchannelslikethat?’ he asked.
‘How else am Isupposedtofind somethinginteresting?’ I retorted.
‘Check forprogrammesonthe app. Iknowyou have it on your phone’,hecontinued,looking at me like Iwas stupid for notknowing that.
‘Tsk,it’snot as fun’, Imuttered.
‘Isthere anything funthen? Or howabout we watchamovie foronce?’Thesuggestionmademefeel warm inside.Ithad been a longtimesince we’d been hangingout like this,justthe twoofus.
‘Nothing is on theTV, butsure. Howabout an action or a fantasymovie?’ Iasked.I triedtofigure outamovie we could watch, butnothing came to mind,soIdecided to putall my hopesonMartin.
Meanwhile, Ipickedupmyphonetoreadthe latest chapter of alight novelI’d been hooked on.Itwas atransmigration storywhere theheroine hadreincarnatedasacount’s daughter. Hernamewas Ebba Hedberg, agirlwho remembered herpreviouslifewhenshe waseight yearsold andwentonto buildanempireofinventions. It wasa feel-good novelwitha strong heroinewho suffered no setbacks.
Afteragood half hour,I hearda ‘Nope, can’tseemtofind anything.Whatdoyou want fordinner?’
‘Too bad. Howabout shepherd’s pie?’I answered,feelinga bitsad,but still lookingforward to dinner.
‘That sounds good.You want to preparethe meat or potatoes?’
‘Potatoes’,I answered, knowingfullwellthatthe meat was more difficult to prepare.
Martinhad some sort of magicalskill when it came to cooking; everything wasdelicious,soIput my hopesonhim with seasoningthe meat.
Cookingwas apain, butitwas easier andalittlemorefun when thereweretwo of you. Plus,itwas better than eating sandwiches everyday.I startedpeelingpotatoeswhile drinkingthe now-cold tea.
Cold teawas preferredinthishousehold sinceweboth seemed to have catliketongues that left us struggling with overly hotdrinks. Afterwefinished cooking, we puthalfof thepie in some Tupperware forlater andtookaquarter each to eat. Thefood wasgood– maybebecause we were eating together foronce, or that we both helped make it –but it was timeslikethese that Isavoured.
Aftereating, Iwalkedtowards theshowerand looked in themirroratmyreflection:longblack hair,brown,tired almond eyes,and afacethatlookedmoreSouth American than European.Webothhad thosegenes;itwas afterbothofour parents, butwehad no idea whereour parentscamefrom.
Ihad astraightand tiny nose that fit my face,and lips that were neitherthinnor plump. On my left ear, four golden earringshung. They were apresent formewhenour parents died,frommybrother.
Each ring representedafamilymember; this way, everyone wastogether. So,I always wore them andnever took them off, even whilesleepingor showering.
My height couldonlybedescribed as short, at 1.55 metres. It should probably mention that Iwas done growingand was shorterthaneveryoneinmyfamilybyatleast twenty centimetres. What happened with thegenes in my family all of asudden? Stepping into theshowerand thoroughly shampooingmy hair,I thoughtabout what Ineededtodobeforetomorrow. Tomorrow wasanordinaryday,withclasses untilfive and then work untilnineinthe evening.
Iwantedtoleave this life andliveinanother world, onewith swordsand magiclikeinthe novelIwas reading. Notstuck here doingcalculationsthatIalwaysget wrong, workingmyarseoff forlittletonopay in adeclining business.Noone wouldhire me,and theonlything I’deverwanttobewas awriter, just like my mother,but good luck with somethinglikethat.
Rinsingmyhair, Iclosedmy eyes as Imassagedmyscalp thoroughly.Mythoughtsstarted to wander towardswhat kind of magicIwould choose if Icould onlychooseone.All of them soundedniceofthem– language comprehension, teleportation,orperhaps icemanipulation? Thefirsttwo wouldbeveryusefulineverydaylife, andcould easily make
me money. Icemanipulation is just flat-outcool, buthow couldIforgetthe legendary Item Box?WhatshouldI choose?
Allofa sudden, thewater stopped,and cold airengulfedme just as Iwas trying to rinseoff theshampoo from my hair and face. Thecoldair gave me goosebumps.I lifted my handsto reachfor theshowertap,but Icouldn’tfind it.Wavinginthe air, lookingfor it didnot work,soIrubbedmyeyestoget the waterout of my face andcalledfor my brother.
‘Martin, theshowerbroke.Can youget me atowel?’ ButI received no answer,and only an eeriequiet accompaniedme.
Thinking he didnot hear me,I decidedtolookfor thetowel myself.After finally wiping enough wateroff my face,I slowly opened my eyes,hopingnoshampoo wouldcreep into them.
Ifound myself standing in agrand whitehallmadeofwhite marble,withgiganticpillars upholdingthe ceiling. Blackvines creptupthe pillars, twisting around them.
Around me stoodadozen people.Someworelongblack robes, some looked like medieval knightsdressed in armour of silver andblack,and threeold-fashioned maidswereall holdingsomething indiscernible. My feet were cold,and I finally acknowledged that Iwas standing on astone floor.
Then, ajoyousannouncementreverberatedthrough the chambers:‘Thesummoningwas asuccess!’
Thechill on theair swirledaroundthe soaked andnaked me.
Therewas no need to guess: Ifainted on thespot.
ON THE OTHERSIDE THECASTLE
‘The summoningwas asuccess!’ someoneshouted enthusiastically, as alarge,rainbow-colouredlight appeared before them.
It condensed, growingsmaller andsmaller,and finally took on theshape of ahuman being.
Everyone hadtoclose theireyesfromthe intenselight. When they opened them again, thelight hadfinallysubsided. Butinstead of crying outwithjoy that theproject they had been workingonfor yearshad finally succeeded, they could only standthere in shockand silence.
In frontofthemstood anaked woman, with long, wetblack hair clinging to herbody. Most of thepeoplepresent started to blushintensely. This wasasociety wherewomen were expected to even hide theirankles.
Shewaved herhands around,and with each wave,a splash of waterfollowed. Thesummoned womanasked fora towel before saying somethingincomprehensible. Thethree maids whowerestandingclosest to herswiftly came back to their senses andprocuredalarge towelfor her.
Sheopenedher eyes afterrubbing them andlookedaround. Afterthe shockhad settledin, shepaled at thesight of the strangepeoplearoundher andfainted.Since only themaids
hadgottentheir senses back,noone else wasfastenoughto catchher as shefellstraightontothe lightgreymarblefloor.
As thesound of hercollapsingechoedthroughoutthe summoning chamber, everyone came back to themselves.Allowing hertofalland injure herself wasa gigantic misstep. Themaids hurriedly swept atowel around thenaked woman’sbodyand received help from anearbyknightinbringingher to theguestroom. Sheseemedtohavefainted.
Afterthe summoned woman,togetherwithher newentourage, left,everyoneelsealsoscattered,returning to their respective workplaceafter beingleftmomentarily stunned. Theknightcommander andthe head of themagiproceeded to theaudiencechamber,where thekingawaited.
Theheadmaid, whohad been overseeing it all, brisklyfollowedafter them.
Theaudiencechamber wasa bighallfilled with nobles,and the highestofthemall satona grandthronemadeofgold: theking.
Striding up thered carpet,which ranthe length of theroom from thedoortothe throne,was theknightcommander,head magician, and, followingthema step behind,the head maid.
Nobles gathered on both sidesofthe carpet,waiting to hear theresults of this significant projecttosavethe land.
‘So, what arethe resultsofthe summoning?’the king asked, causingall of thesurrounding nobles to fall silent.
‘We’ve successfullysummoned her’,answeredthe magi,a faintblush creeping up hisneck.
‘Sowhere is she?’the king demanded. Andwhy in God’s name areyou blushing?
‘Resting in oneofthe guestrooms’, said theknight, not wantingtospeak anyfurther.Hehoped someoneelsewould take that baton.