There exists a cave, in the land of Albion, where a ceremony is taking place that will force a meeting between two lands that have no reason to ever meet. In this cave a young, self proclaimed, Magician-Wizard was attempting to summon a familiar capable of changing fate. He and many others foresaw the downfall of magic at the hands of the new king, Uther, and seek a way to prevent this tragedy. He had heard how useful a familiar could be and was going about getting one in his usual unorthodox style. His unique brand of magic, he refers to as Broken Magic, resembles true magic despite the many fractures in its form.
It is with this Broken Magic that he meditated in the cave with the red glow of the blood runes as his only light. Blood runes are known for being able to give the most stability per rune. The dim glow, however, was not needed as the ceremony required no light and might even distract the caster from scanning the Astral Planes for a familiar with a natural affinity to them. He was diving deeper into the planes than common practice considered safe until he found a realm that was naturally abundant in magic and had a relatively weak rejection of outsiders considering the distance between his and its location. He focused on it as he rose to his feet and advanced to the true beginning of the summon. With his elbows tucked in to his side and palms facing up he looked forward with eyes shut as he projected his presence, this beacon would be a light hum to those skilled in magic and an invitation to those willing to aide him in his cause.
The runes grew brighter as they attempted to support the bridge he had crafted. When a being came to accept the call however each rune glowed with the intensity of a bonfire and crackled as such. The ceremony became rushed at this as the mage quickly tried to maintain access for his familiar's safe passage. But there was not enough time and it was pulled back to its home as a rune shattered taking chunks of the cave it was carved onto with it. He drew his ceremonial dagger to replace the ruin but unfortunately he now was on the weaker side of the force and he was pulled into the gap between planes to the location of his almost familiar's plane. This was a dangerous position to be in and he had to anchors now pulling him in two different directions, his tie with the, now roaming, beacon and the blood runes of the ceremony.
If nothing was done they would find a balance with him trapped in the howling halls between planes. He arrived with a stagger in a place as dark as the cave but much more alive for the briefest of moments before he dissolved back into the void towards his ceremonial runes. Upon arrival he swiftly sliced his left hand but before he could repair any runes he was back in the void. An open wound in the gap between realms would allow his to life drain from him were the bridge not still offering its protection. While the runes lived he would get away with extreme fatigue. This time he appeared in a barren wasteland that was much too hot. He would work on a rune then get pulled back to his alternate anchor. A royal court of some sort, a Gem filled cavern with an odd ambient lighting, a snowy mountaintop facing the sea, a forest that reminded him of home, and a calm meadow.
He passed through the void many times and had one new rune to show for it. Now back to square one he should have regained stability, yet he was unable to close the bridge. He collapsed to his hands for support while trying to figure out what prevented the retrieval of the beacon. If not for the pool of blood around his hand he might not have figured it out. He only had one real choice left to him and it was not a pleasant one. He used the last of his strength to shatter all of his over-stressed blood runes with ease, which took with them his ties to home and any protection he had from the great nothing that was the Howling Halls between realms. He passed out before arriving at the beacon that collapsed with his conciseness.
Many creatures wondered what that unusual hum was and in less than ten seconds a handful would get a good idea. Inside the Changeling hive a being clad in black arrived out of nowhere without warning and left just as quickly. The dragons of the wastelands were next to see the strange creature, followed by all those present at the royal court of the Alicorn sisters, then a cavern of the Diamond dogs, then those of the griffin stronghold of the western shore cliffs, followed by the only true wild life of the forest that shall be EverFree, and finally those at a picnic upon a hill facing castle Canterlot.
His final resting place was that of a shore by a calm lake where he lay until sunrise the next day. By the time the source had awoken all concerned parties were aware that it was not an isolated incident and were on high alert searching for it, guided by the small drops of blood. Some for the sake of curiosity, others to ensure their prolonged well being, and others still with thoughts of gaining power from the stranger. Many scouts were sent to the EverFree forest where strange things were expected to gather. All they would find for their effort was another few spots of blood like the one that led them to it. The mage got up and rested under a willow facing a mountain side castle trying to calmly think of the best way to handle this problem.