⚔️Serberia

In the evening, Alessia returned to the hotel with mixed feelings, unsure whether to consider the day a success or not. She was confident that she had performed best at the competition, but she hadn't elicited much enthusiasm from the audience. Being a model was a prestigious and easy job, but the photographer's demanding requirements and the realization that she was being forced to advertise all sorts of cheap goods did not contribute to her peace of mind. The spacious room was stuffy, and Alessia opened the window. The sea rippled rhythmically, and the reflections of the stars seemed to dance on the surface. The sea... Alessia had never been a fan of vast bodies of water, but the sea reminded her of home, and that was comforting, albeit melancholic. Indeed, the first day in Myrkoria was special – as was every first day in a new place, but in recent years, Alessia had been in places that were either terrible or deathly boring. Perhaps this was the change, the new life she had been waiting for, wasting her days in Baldur without purpose or joy. Perhaps it was time to finally take a real step forward. Perhaps it was finally time for the summoning. This thought was not new, nor was it rare. At least a couple of times a week, Alessia would consider whether the best moment had arrived, but something always held her back. The demonology book she had recently acquired strengthened her resolve, but Baldur was like quicksand: there was never a good time, she wasn't in the mood, and she was afraid Gungnir would find out. But Myrkoria was not Baldur; indecision and procrastination had no place here, and today was a particularly special day. And it was perfectly clear that she should conclude the contract with Camilla; she had thought about it many times. It was decided: today, Alessia would finally do what she had been working towards for many years. Tonight, when the city falls asleep, she will perform the summoning. The night seemed terribly long, and Alessia was forced to spend these hours on her feet, fearing that if she sat down, she would immediately fall asleep. Restless thoughts tormented her. What if something undesirable was summoned? What if, after death, she really had to go straight to the abyss, to eternal torment? Or maybe there was no abyss, no demons – not in the usual sense of existence, but only human fear of one's own nature, and undesirable traits of one's personality are considered something external. People are told from all sides: be sensual, but not lustful; don't grovel, but don't be arrogant; be curious, but not at the expense of ethics. And so, a person adapts to a hundred requirements, but in reality, there is only one requirement: be moderate, don't stand out. And if he feels something supposedly bad in his nature, he says that a demon has confused him and invents a place from which all temptations come, just so as not to admit that it is all his, his own... What was she even thinking? Perhaps the all-night vigil until three in the morning is taking its toll – in a normal state, Alessia would not have had such nonsense come to her mind. Here is the pentagram, and everything is ready for the ritual; she remembered everything exactly, focused on the image of Camilla, and spent the whole day as an exemplary servant – and there is no philosophy, psychology, or other otherworldly matters here: it is just an ordinary agreement, you sacrifice something, and you get something in return. Let the Arterians around their idol spout pseudo-elevated nonsense, trying to explain why they worship their dead goddess, but demonology is an exact science. There is only an element of chance, but Alessia is ready to take the risk. Having calmed herself with these rational arguments, the sorceress began the summoning.