Fate - First Reply I See Fire

[Harrier]

Dragonfire. This Dreadlord witch could conjure dragonfire.

Harrier's shield charm dissipated. She tumbled on flat stone by the entryway. The ashy floor rasped painfully on the burns on her legs. Escape was theoretically possible, but she'd come so far to find this moment. Somewhere along the way she'd lost her walking stick. She sagged on her knees.

The power she'd taken from her undead needed an outlet. She opted for audacity and gave it one.

Anyone knew that necromancers commanded undead. What most didn't know was that all undead, from shades to zombies to golems of flesh, gave innate obedience to any necromancer - within reason. A weak necromancer could still fail; a strong undead being could always resist.

She gave her next spell nothing tentative. Long and specialized experience tempered raw aggregated force. The spell latched on - not to Selene, not to the flaming serpent, but to Sroga Sule himself. This was the same magic she'd used thousands of times for identical purposes - but stronger.

The High Priest blazed. Fire roared up around his spectral silhouette. A roar shook ash from the cathedral ceiling, but the spell snapped tight with permanent force.

"Burn her."

Iridescent, greasy flame rushed out at the Dreadlord, like no fire Harrier had ever seen. Hilariously, maybe Selene Avar would learn what she came to learn. Or maybe she'd just die and the magma serpent would dissipate, which would be intensely convenient.

 

[Selene Avar]

Selene half turned as she reached up her hand in retaliation, and then fire consumed her.

Before she could act, before she could do anything at all, an inferno bit into her flesh. It caught on her clothes, her skin. In an instant her form seemed to plunge into nothing but fire. Her mouth opened in a wordless a terrifying scream.

Heat bit at her flesh, tearing it away from her muscles.

Bright red eyes regarded Harrier for one brief moment, wide open in abject terror as pain and agony became her only existence. The great serpent of Magma began to crumble, falling apart in a cascade of heated rock and molten flame.

Selene's scream filled ruined halls of the Cathedral.

And then it stopped.

There was a sudden snap as Selene's very form was consumed by the High Priest's fire. No remnant of ash or bone remained, the echo of the Dreadlord's final cry being the only thing left of her.

A fire raged where she once stood.

 

[Harrier]

Harrier's hand went to her mouth. Her burnt legs shook as she got a grip on the stonework and pulled herself upright. A cool wind curled in through the door behind her. She breathed deep, and the bound, furious shade of Sroga Sule dissipated in wispy sheets that swirled around her fallen walking stick. The fire-hardened stick whipped up out of the pit and into her hand.

She turned and limped down the front steps, making for the horse that Selene had brought.

 

[Selene Avar]

The quiet crackle of flame clicked through the cathedral, echoing off the once hallowed halls and trapping themselves inside.

Harrier fled quickly, rushing out the door and towards what had been left behind. Sroga Sule's spirit was gone, yet something lingered within the walls themselves. Not a spirit or a soul, but something else, something more tangible.

Fire.

What's this? The Fire thought to itself, only half aware. I can't see anything.

It slowly questioned, wondering. The crackle grew louder, resounding through the halls and growing. Why can't I see anything?

The fire shifted, moved, and then it joined with another. Slowly it crept forward, growing as it grasped and pulled more of the flames within the halls into itself. It etched itself through rock and over ash, gathering itself until it stood taller than a man.

Can I see now? The Fire questioned once more, and suddenly a face grew within the flames. Yes, but where are my hands?

Slowly the fire looked down at itself, feminine features growing in wisps of black in a sea of orange. There.

The fire thought as a pair of hands extended from itself, then slowly arms and a torso came into being. The flames shifted, and slowly they poured themselves into a body. Slashes of red and black crackled as the silhouette of an inferno came into being, a smile breaking across it's face.

Laughter erupted from the Cathedral, the mad cackles of something new.

 

[Harrier]

Harrier had just convinced the Dreadlord's stallion to accept a new rider when the cackle echoed from inside the cathedral. Her eyes went wide. So did the horse's. The instant she urged him forward, he broke into an ears-flat canter through the burnt city.

Whatever raged in the cathedral, Harrier felt deep in her gut that going elsewhere immediately was vital to her continued existence. The horse, fortunately, felt the same. Its hooves tore up caked ash and detritus as it hit a full gallop, careening toward the gates of Van Helth.