Frontier Summoner 6: A Slice of Life Fantasy Adventure, page 1
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Contents
Title Page
1. David's Character Sheet
2. Chapter 1
3. Chapter 2
4. Chapter 3
5. Chapter 4
6. Chapter 5
7. Chapter 6
8. Chapter 7
9. Chapter 8
10. Chapter 9
11. Chapter 10
12. Chapter 11
13. Chapter 12
14. Chapter 13
15. Chapter 14
16. Chapter 15
17. Chapter 16
18. Chapter 17
19. Chapter 18
20. Chapter 19
21. Chapter 20
22. Chapter 21
23. Chapter 22
24. Chapter 23
25. Chapter 24
26. Chapter 25
27. Chapter 26
28. Chapter 27
29. Chapter 28
30. Chapter 29
31. Chapter 30
32. Chapter 31
33. Chapter 32
34. Chapter 33
35. Chapter 34
36. Chapter 35
37. Chapter 36
38. Chapter 37
39. Chapter 38
40. Chapter 39
41. Chapter 40
42. Chapter 41
43. Chapter 42
44. Chapter 43
45. Chapter 44
46. Chapter 45
47. Chapter 46
48. Chapter 47
49. Chapter 48
Thank You!
Also By Jack Bryce
Special Thanks To...
Frontier Summoner 6
A Slice of Life Fantasy Adventure
Jack Bryce
David's Character Sheet
Below is David’s character sheet at the end of book 5.
Name: David Wilson
Class: Frontier Summoner
Level: 9
Health: 100/100
Mana: 50/50 (+10 from Hearth Treasures)
Skills:
Summon Minor Spirit — Level 21 (3 mana)
Summon Domesticant — Level 20 (5 mana)
Summon Guardian — Level 21 (7 mana)
Summon Aquana’s Avatar — Level 15 (9 mana)
Summon Storm Elemental — Level 13 (10 mana)
Bind Familiar — Level 5 (15 mana)
Aura of Protection — Level 3 (4 mana)
Banish — Level 1 (6 mana)
Evolve Summon — Level 1 (4 mana)
Identify Plants — Level 16 (1 mana)
Foraging — Level 18 (1 mana)
Trapping — Level 18 (1 mana)
Alchemy — Level 22 (1 mana)
Farming — Level 9 (1 mana)
Ranching — Level 1 (1 mana)
Chapter 1
I watched with rising interest as the lithe figure of the cat girl made her way closer. I admired the way her hips swayed, but I remained cautious. Strangers on the frontier walking up to your door needed to be treated with care. Anyone could call out a name and pretend to be someone I’d heard of before.
As she approached, I narrowed my eyes at this stranger who had introduced herself as Yeska of the Wildclaws, the Bloodmage who would be able to reveal more about my Bloodline.
“Stay right there, please,” I called back to her, my voice steady and firm but polite. It was imperative that I took care to ascertain that my unexpected visitor was who she claimed to be. I had little experience with catkin, and I didn’t know if this could be a trickster or otherwise.
Slowly, I made my approach, each step measured and cautious. The sun was still shy, not quite ready to share its full warmth, and maybe I wasn’t ready either for this sudden interference in this tranquil dawn. Yet, here she was, a catkin woman standing on my land, her eyes the color of summer leaves staring intently back at me.
The distance closed between us, and in the light of the newborn day, her features came into sharper focus. She was undoubtedly catkin, her ears twitching subtly, her tail giving a small, impulsive swish. It was unusual to feel such an immediate pull — this quickening in my pulse at her proximity. There was something raw and primal about her that spoke to my inner self.
She had not moved since revealing her identity, and now I could see the purpose etched upon her face. Yeska, this catkin woman before me, was standoffish. And yet her gaze held an intensity that beckoned me closer with an almost magnetic draw.
“Lord Vartlebeck sent me,” she said, her eyes scrutinizing me. “He told me you had need of a Bloodmage.”
“He told you where I lived?” I asked.
“He did,” she affirmed, and now just inches away, her trait was unmistakable — that preternatural intrigue catkin held. It made them unpredictable. It was the unpredictability that stirred the air between us, her proximity sending tendrils of unforeseen possibilities through my thoughts.
“I do need a Bloodmage,” I ventured, my words hanging like my breath in the cool morning air. “I need help unraveling my Bloodline.”
“Yes, for your Bloodline,” she repeated, licking her lips after she had spoken, as if she enjoyed the taste of the word. Her proximity made it hard not to notice the black strands of hair that framed her face, the way they offset the green of her eyes.
“We should probably get inside,” I nodded in the direction of the homestead. “Coffee?” It was an offer, but I felt it more as an escape from the open, from this sudden tension that I couldn’t place.
A smile ghosted across her features at the proposal. “Coffee would be pleasant. It has been a long walk from Gladdenfield Outpost.”
I smiled and nodded. “You must’ve gotten off to an early start?”
She grinned, flicking away an unruly lock of black hair. “Indeed,” she purred.
We stood for a moment, just watching each other. The domesticants, sensing there were new dynamics in play, kept their distance. But they hovered at the edge of sight, curious and wary of this new entity now in their presence. They flitted about in silent accord, ready to provide aid if the new visitor proved hostile.
“Come,” I said. “It’s warm inside.”
Her cloak swirled with her movement as she stepped in line with me, a whisper of a touch that was half felt, half imagined, trailed down my arm. Her interest struck as vividly as a lightning bolt, a thread of clean, sharp curiosity.
“So, what does a Bloodmage do?” I asked, seeking to make conversation while we walked.
“Oh, the things I could tell you,” Yeska teased, her voice a purr of words that seemed to carry secrets and stories. It was the slight sway in her hips, the lithe grace with which she moved that drew my eyes time and again.
“I take it you enjoy your work, then?” I deflected, hoping familiarity might dull the keen edge that had colored our encounter so far.
“Enjoy isn’t the word I’d pick,” Yeska said. Her tone, previously light, dipped low. “It’s an obsession, really — blood holds more secrets than the stars above.”
We stepped onto the porch, and I shot the mysterious catkin another look. “Obsessions can be...” I paused, looking for the right way to frame it, “... consuming.”
My hand found the door handle just as the sun
She paused at the doorway, half turned with a silhouette etched in light. “Consuming, intriguing, compelling,” she listed, stepping past the threshold but not into the house. “That’s how I’d describe it.”
“Then over coffee, you can tell us all about it,” I said, my thoughts circling back to Leigh, Diane, and Celeste.
“Oh, there’s much to discuss,” Yeska agreed, moving a step closer so that the gap between us held nothing but shared air. “Sometimes, secrets are found in the most delicious places.”
I chuckled and nodded, directing her to enter the home.
Chapter 2
As I entered with Yeska, the smell of coffee greeted us, blending with the homely aroma of a breakfast in progress. Warm light spilled from the kitchen, and I could hear the soft murmur of voices, the cadence of a familiar morning routine disturbed only by an unfamiliar presence.
We entered to find Diane, Leigh, and Celeste clustered around my grandparents at the kitchen table, steam from their mugs wafting up in cheerful little clouds. Waelin, a touch out of place but less rigid than before, perched on a chair with a cup in hand, his gaze casually inspecting the new arrival who trailed me.
“Good morning,” I announced, a greeting that seemed to hover momentarily over the table before being absorbed into the bustle.
Diane looked up, her eyes narrowing slightly as they swept over Yeska, assessing the unannounced guest who had inserted herself into our cozy assembly.
“Everyone, this is Yeska of the Wildclaws,” I began, the introduction prompting a series of nods and polite murmurings. “She’s here to do some research on... Well, something to do with me.”
As I spoke, Yeska moved with catlike grace to stand at my side, her green eyes flicking over the others. She took them in one by one, her beautiful features betraying nothing of what she thought.
Diane’s lips tightened just a perceptible fraction, a near-imperceptible response to the ‘something’ Yeska was here for — my Bloodline. Her hand found mine, a subtle reassurance, as she rose and watched the newcomer. I could sense her trepidation.
Celeste and Leigh, on the other hand, offered smiles and nods. “Welcome,” Leigh beamed, always the first to speak kind words.
“Research, you say?” Grandpa asked, the tone of a man who prided himself on getting to the heart of the matter. “That sounds mighty important. Any way we can help?”
Yeska’s mouth quirked into a smile. “I’m a Bloodmage,” she explained almost casually. “David’s lineage has... piqued my interest.” There was a flicker of something in her demeanor that betrayed her own intrigues. “But it’s not as simple as mere research. It’s a process — a ritual. And a lengthy one at that.”
“How lengthy?” Diane asked, her voice low.
I could tell that she wasn’t looking forward to spending much time with the mysterious and — admittedly, sensual — catkin.
“Four months, at least,” Yeska returned, calm as a vernal pond with hidden depths.
That won the catkin an uncomfortable shift from Diane as her eyes turned to me. I could already tell this was going to take some management…
“During this time,” Yeska continued. “I’ll need to be close to David — cohabitation is necessary for the duration of the ritual.” This revelation hung in the air like a daring acrobat performing without a net, and I felt Diane’s grip on my hand tighten.
For a second, I could almost hear the gears turning in Grandpa’s head, processing this stark and unexpected piece of news.
“Cohabitation?” he echoed, looking from Yeska to me and back again as if to make sure he caught the nuance right. Then, he grinned broadly in his way. “You’re gonna live with David?”
Yeska smiled with ease — or was it a challenge? — reading the mix of apprehension and curiously veiled excitement around her. “For the time being, indeed I must. It is part of the ritual,” she said simply. “My presence will be... pervasive.”
Grandma beamed a broad smile. “Well, isn’t that lovely! It’s lucky you have a spare room, David!”
Leigh chuckled. “Well, it’ll sure be nice to have another set of hands around the place. Right, Diane?” Her bright cheer cut through, dissipating the tension like the morning fog giving way to sunbeams.
Diane’s smile was strained — a thin veil over the bubbling discomfort within. “Sure,” she acquiesced, words wooden, her usual warmth tempered by the unexpected news. A catkin mage in our midst — and a sexy one at that.
Celeste rose with a smile and took Yeska’s arm in a gesture of sisterly support. “We welcome you and your craft,” she said. Her eyes met mine, and in their depths, I discerned a pool of acceptance.
“Why, thank you!” Yeska beamed.
It was already clear which relations would work right away… and which would need some work.
“Why don’t we all sit down and enjoy some breakfast?” I proposed, eager to return to familiar ground. Food was the great equalizer, and the idea of sharing a meal seemed to offer a safe detour from the quagmire of emotions the morning had presented.
Yeska nodded in approval and slid gracefully into a seat. Grandpa, always ready to dispense wisdom or cornbread with equal generosity, immediately began questioning her on things that interested him — logistics, transportation, geography, and the like. Grandma listened intently, offering her two cents whenever she deemed it necessary.
One by one, everyone took our places at the table — a gathering of heartbeats and breaths in the burgeoning light of day. Diane sat across from Yeska with a measured grace, her eyes betraying her discomfort.
“I’ll make us something to eat,” I said, making my way toward the kitchen with my thoughts spinning.
While conversation continued at the dining table, the kitchen had a quiet about it, the kind that blanketed the room in a soft peace. I set about readying breakfast, the hissing of the frying pan gently breaking the silence.
Every now and then, I cast glances toward the dining area where conversation lulled more often than it bounced. Yeska was an enigma wrapped in a query, her presence pressing down on the usual easiness of our mornings.
I whisked eggs, my movements rhythmic and focused, trying to shake off the tension that settled in my shoulders. The eggs gave a puff and settled in the pan. I stirred them and thought of how the kitchen was the heart of our home, a place that both Leigh and Diane had filled with laughter and light.
Now, with Celeste living with us as well, it was about to become a livelier place still. However, I had just learned that — unless I would sell a hard ‘no’ — we’d have another newcomer for the next season. And telling Yeska ‘no’ meant my Bloodline would remain shrouded in mystery. That was, of course, not an option.
Luckily, Leigh, bless her heart, had a way of cutting through awkwardness like a warm knife through butter. “Y’all always this quiet in the mornings? Or is it the fact that David’s cooking that’s struck you dumb?” she teased, her voice bold in the midst of restraint.
Her laughter was a balm that seemed to smooth the edges of everyone’s hesitancy, and the others joined in. Especially Grandpa loved her and her sense of humor, and he guffawed happily at the joke.
Even Yeska allowed a small smile at Leigh’s humor, and she regarded me more keenly, her curiosity piqued. “So, your grandfather tells me you and Celeste married just this night, is that true?” she asked, her interest a splash of color on an otherwise gray canvas.
“That’s right,” I replied over the sizzling pan. Flipping the eggs onto a large platter, I almost wished that the act could be as easy as flipping the switch on our moods — turning unease into comfort, questions into understanding.
Celeste nodded happily. “An elven wedding is a beautiful thing,” she said. “The stars bear witness as two hearts bind beneath their light.” Her eyes glowed with the remembrance of the previous night; a secret joy shared at the break of dawn.
Yeska’s intrigue deepened at Celeste’s description. “Elven customs are indeed fascinating,” she remarked, her eyes dancing toward me. In her gaze, I saw an appetite for knowledge — or something more — that made my blood rage faster.
