DARK KEMANA, Camelback Mountain, Phoenix, AZ
They were standing on the summit of the smallest mountain in the range. It was another kemana sitting on top of a large crystal burrowed deep into the Earth, topped by a mountain. Many in the magical community had even discovered over the past hundred years that it was easier to open a portal to Oriceran from on top of the smallest mountain. A rarity. This particular spot had also acquired the nickname of the Dark Kemana. It was a favorite with those who wanted to revive the darker aspects of magic. The kemana drew dark magical practitioners from all over to the top of the rock. Back when the gates were fully open the last time, a group of rogue witches and wizards practiced alchemy spells but only got as far as flipping around some of the geological layers of the smaller mountain. What the locals called the head of the camel. Large chunks of hard granite that were over a billion years old sat right on top of younger, softer sandstone that was only thirty million years old. That was supposed to be scientifically impossible. It was really just bored teenage witches and wizards.
The piece of granite beneath the witch's feet was an artifact, fixed in place, absorbing all of the magic from generations of witches and wizards who had performed spells, small and large on the smaller mountain over the millennia, only adding to the kemana. The magic seeped too slowly back out of Earth to be of much use. But there were those in Phoenix hundreds of years ago who drafted a spell to draw it out faster. It worked to a point but even that limited success was powerful. The leeching spell, as it became known, was a closely guarded secret. Through the ages, each family line of the original witches and wizards passed on the family legacy of spells. The Gnomes secreted away any artifacts and relics into the library vault on Oriceran and the Silver Griffins took the rest into their vault in Chicago.
The Dark Kemana was the perfect place to hand over the necklace. . It was more difficult for the Order of the Silver Griffins to patrol the area. The Silver Griffins were particularly vigilant in the Phoenix area and there were always rumors of moles infiltrating the older families. It all created an air of suspicion and mistrust that for some just added to the allure. Other magical families who wanted nothing to do with the outlaw magic warned their offspring to stay away from the area, telling tales of mishaps with the powerful artifact or a spell gone wrong that left a young witch looking like a crone or a wizard sucked into the world in between. None of the stories were really true, but they served their purpose. The place became the bogeyman of small witches and wizards' dreams. Lately, something had changed. The followers of Rhazdon were infiltrating the area in larger numbers, working on recruiting the entire community to their way of thinking. Purity of magical thought over ordinary humans.