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Description
OTW 105 assignment
word count: 335 (not worth mentioning XD)

''These are the kind in which their power varies according to the person who casts them. It all depends on your state of mind, your skill and even the mood you are at the moment.
For your final task, I want you to show me what can you do with it." The teacher had mad his instructions very clear, but Insomnia had no idea what to attempt to summon. There had been many minutes of debate before he was called forward and put to work. His mind had reeled over the possibilities, no restraints. He watches the sigil for a long moment before raising his hand over it, her started simple, he just felt for the power the sigil might posses. He found himself becoming more and more irritated as nothing stirred within the magic circle. No sparks, no tendrils of magic, not plants, nothing. He glared down in concentration and the sigil reacted to his displeasure with not just it, but himself. Stringy red threads spread upwards from the sigil and clung to his hand with painfully stinging coils. He winced, mildly unsettled by the escalating situation, as the shoulders and rocky spine of some faintly silhouetted being begin to pull forth from the sigil. His eyes glaze over red, a voice ringing in his ears, urging him to hold the summoning, let it take over. It could use his body better than he could. It takes all he has to pull back from the sigil, the tendrils of red thread snapping and the large red figure sucking back into the floor as if immersed in quick sand. Insomnia falls to the floor, breathing hard and staring at the floor. He felt he'd failed his assignment....this was not a class designed to summon spirits.....this was not necromancy....if only he'd summoned something simple....a candle..not...whatever that was. He shook off the incident and stood himself up, walking almost timidly back to the professor, awaiting the grade, and hoping word of this would never reach his father.

Description
OTW 105 assignment
word count: 335 (not worth mentioning XD)

''These are the kind in which their power varies according to the person who casts them. It all depends on your state of mind, your skill and even the mood you are at the moment.
For your final task, I want you to show me what can you do with it." The teacher had mad his instructions very clear, but Insomnia had no idea what to attempt to summon. There had been many minutes of debate before he was called forward and put to work. His mind had reeled over the possibilities, no restraints. He watches the sigil for a long moment before raising his hand over it, her started simple, he just felt for the power the sigil might posses. He found himself becoming more and more irritated as nothing stirred within the magic circle. No sparks, no tendrils of magic, not plants, nothing. He glared down in concentration and the sigil reacted to his displeasure with not just it, but himself. Stringy red threads spread upwards from the sigil and clung to his hand with painfully stinging coils. He winced, mildly unsettled by the escalating situation, as the shoulders and rocky spine of some faintly silhouetted being begin to pull forth from the sigil. His eyes glaze over red, a voice ringing in his ears, urging him to hold the summoning, let it take over. It could use his body better than he could. It takes all he has to pull back from the sigil, the tendrils of red thread snapping and the large red figure sucking back into the floor as if immersed in quick sand. Insomnia falls to the floor, breathing hard and staring at the floor. He felt he'd failed his assignment....this was not a class designed to summon spirits.....this was not necromancy....if only he'd summoned something simple....a candle..not...whatever that was. He shook off the incident and stood himself up, walking almost timidly back to the professor, awaiting the grade, and hoping word of this would never reach his father.