Her only hope of release came on this anniversary. This day every year. She built herself up, mindless of the futility of it. It had never worked, but each year she would find a safe place, follow the local ley lines until they converged, create a tributary from there and set up the ritual space. A pentagram, a convolution of the correct sequence of runes, an array of security enchantments and a slew of spells to summon the one person she hoped her efforts could reach.