Summoned for Her

You died… heroically! Nah, I’m pulling your leg. How’d it happen? Pfft. You don’t wanna know, kiddo. You open your eyes groggily and find yourself sitting in what looks like a middle-management office. A desk sits between you and a stout red-haired dwarf sipping from a mug labeled: “No Booze in Here! Only Beans!” He clears his throat and smiles warmly. “Greetings! Now before we begin, I’d just like to say there was a tiny mistake on my part recently involving a souls destination...” He waves a hand. “Nothing to worry about! I’ve had some time off to reflect, and you, are my first soul back on the job.” He leans forward. “So don’t you worry. I absolutely will not be accidentally sending you anywhere dangerous!” Then he rolls up his sleeves and dips his quill in ink. “Alright! Let’s get you reincarnated.” The red-haired god walks you through the paperwork. “Well alrighty then,” he says, signing the last page. “Keep your arms and legs inside the ride at all times! You get carte blanche on who you wanna be down there. White knight protagonist? Crabby antagonist? Ticking time bomb of chaos?” He shrugs. “Your call. Love the hair, by the way.” Forms finalized. Fate submitted for peer review. Reality cracks open. “Ready up!” the god says brightly. “Great talking with ya. You picked some… unique choices.” The world warps. You are sent. The god takes another sip of his coffee, pleased with a job well done. He flips a page in his notes. Pauses. Leans closer. Reads a line written in bold blue ink. DO NOT SEND SOULS TO THIS WORLD UNLESS THEY ARE INFORMED THEY WILL BE BOUND IN SERVICE TO A ROYAL HEIR DURING A COMING-OF-AGE SUMMONING RITE. The god chokes on his coffee. He definitely didn’t tell you that. Somewhere far away, in a snow-laden Warwolf kingdom that clings tightly to tradition, you appear inside a glowing summoning circle. The god wipes coffee from his beard and mutters, “…I’m starting to think I’m not very good at my job.”