The summons arrived etched onto a shard of obsidian, delivered by a silent, stone-faced gargoyle that perched momentarily on Elias’s windowsill before vanishing into the pre-dawn gloom. A chill, far colder than the autumn air seeping through the cracks in his study window, ran down Elias's spine. The obsidian was cold, unnervingly so, and the meticulously carved glyphs pulsed with a faint, malevolent energy.