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Description
Hundreds of thousands of transparent glass orbs scattered the ground spaciously, flickering orange and red from within; far as the eye could hope to see. They lay in the tall, swaying reeds through shallow waters, no insects in sight. Perfect silence cloaked the moist air. It seemed to stretch on forever, grassy islands in the marshes, dots of the orbs shimmering in the distance, beyond the horizon. Looking closer, the flickers contained inside the glass were flames; flickering, wavering, eerily calm. They swayed hauntingly within their transparent cages, as if dancing while hypnotized. The sky above shone a deep red, silvery gray clouds whispering by. No sun or moon watched over, but it wasn't dark. Not a soul was in sight; just those flames on the waterside, burning hypnotically in their glass enclosures.

A sweep of blood red passed over the dream-like marshland, soundlessly, breathlessly. A black cloak trailing the ground covered no footprints, reaching up to embrace the shoulders of its bearer. Two softly glowing silver eyes swept over the marsh; steady, fearless, suffering. The flames made no move out of stride as the figure passed by them, resulting in a disturbed frown in the lone wanderer's face.

Long blood red hair fell over delicate, powerful shoulders, silver tips swaying around defined shoulder blades beneath the work cloak,, hood raised. Two pale, naked feet strode very slowly, but with a kind of confidence and knowing, through the moist, muddy grasses, but made no mark, left no sound. The figure passed through like a dream, a soft wind, undetectable.

Those deep silver eyes scanned the area, not sure what they were looking for, if anything at all. It was clear that these eyes had seen much. These were eyes far older than the face of their owner. All the ages of the worlds echoed inside them; centuries of pain and battle cries, from the rage of a wildfire to the weak sobs of an infant child. There was a balanced core of wisdom in these eyes, something that no one could truly comprehend. A wide understanding shone behind them, an ancient burden no one else was permitted to bear. A blaze of fire sparked in their deeper chasms, but not from the orbs littering the ground.

A slender hand rested lightly on a sword hilt at the figure's left side, tucked neatly away in the folds of the cloak. Suddenly the figure stopped, looking down at an unwavering encaged flame. Silver eyes watched it steady, as if something was going to happen. When nothing did, its frown deepened. The figure crouched down beside the glass orb, and gently reached out with its right hand, fingertips touching the glass encasement. The flame within the orb did not move beyond its previous motion, almost in unison with the other flames.

The figure's frown shifted from confusion and bewilderment, to sorrow and a mournful concern. Its lips parted softly, a breath of sound escaping them, but the sound barely grasped being human. It more resembled the hiss and crackle of fire itself, sparking from the figure's throat. The fire in the orb did nothing.

A storm began to grow deep inside the figure as it quickly rose to its feet, eyes flashing dangerously. What was this? What was going on in this place? How was this possible? The figure's ancient mind whirled with the questions as emotions flooded it.

"Like you my garden?" a voice suddenly sneered from behind the figure, shattering the silence of the ghostly marsh.

The figure wheeled around, hand gripped tightly around the sword at its side instinctively. Its silver eyes churned with mighty thunderclouds as they narrowed at the speaker.

A second figure stood about fifteen feet away, clothed in all black robes save for a priestly red sash draped around his neck, the ends hanging near his ankles. His hands were folded regally over his rounded belly, a few rings wrapped around his thick, wrinkly fingers. His hair was cropped short and a brownish gray, two widely-set blackish-green eyes set into his pale face. Thin lips spread into the tiniest smile, but nothing about it was pleasant. He carried a very different air than the cloaked wanderer, and a much darker one.

"You seem to have been misinformed about what the word garden means," hissed the wanderer coldly, silver eyes boring into the man. Its face was still hidden in the shadow of its hood, save for those hard, fiery eyes. Below the current of anger and hate in its voice, there was a trace of music in its sound, like the hum of a warm nightly fire, or a forest wind.

The man smiled. "A garden means something different to everyone." he said smugly. He stepped forward, his own bare feet making a soft sloshing noise as he walked, black robes sweeping in slow-motion around him. He circled the figure slowly, watching it closely, eyes glinting darkly. "A garden is a sanctuary, for most. And this is mine."

"Sanctuary!" the wanderer spat in rage. "This is no sanctuary, this is a graveyard! A sick nightmare that you draw the unsuspecting into with the eerie song of the dying!"

The man stopped, and chuckled softly. He looked into the figure's eyes, almost admiringly. "Ah, and it seems I have underestimated you once again…" he mused. "You are very wise. I knew that regardless of that pompous old dragon I would eventually get your attention…"

The figure froze, fists balling angrily. "Is that what this is about?! You would do all this just to get to me?"

"Now, now, do not sell yourself short," the man smiled. "You make it sound as if you are not worth the trouble..." he sneered. A flicker of hunger burned behind his eyes.

The figure tensed, jaw tightening. Its silver eyes hammered mercilessly into the man, as if its very gaze would burst him into flames at any moment. "You will stop this." it said tightly, voice strained with control. "This place will be destroyed if I must do it myself."

The man smiled fondly. "Oh, I never doubted that. I'm sure you are quite capable of it. Your power is great indeed…" He took a step closer. "It would of course be no dishonor on me, were this place to be obliterated by one such as you…" Another step.

"Silence!" screamed the hidden swordsman, eyes flashing in rage. "Enough of this now! I order you to release them and destroy this place!"

"Oh, you may order what you like of me," he smiled. As he bowed and rose again, he pretended to wince in pain, holding his back. "Oh, but I fear, these old bones are so weak… I cannot take on such an immense task on my own," he pouted. He looked at his fingers casually. "Of course… some strength might be coaxed from this worn old body, if…"

"No." the figure said flatly.

"A plucky young warrior was at my side," the man finished with a grin.

The figure leaned back and promptly spat on the man's bare foot.

The man laughed, holding his shaking belly. "Oh, such fire!" He turned to the figure with those dark eyes, the hunger now more intense. "Come now, there's no need to hide…" he cooed, taking a few more steps forward, gently reaching up to the figure's hood. "We know each other far too well for that…"

There was a quick flash of black cloth, and the man was abruptly sent flying a good ten feet, landing face-down in the muddy marsh water. The figure lowered from its kick, locking its fighting stance. The man lifted his face from the water, spitting out a glob of marsh grass. His lifted himself gracelessly from the water and plopped over to the figure, wiping the water from his eyes. "I do wish you would realize how difficult you're being," he sighed, wringing out his robes.

"As I wish YOU would realize how STUPID you're being!" hissed the figure, reaching up and ripping down its hood. The silver tips in its long hair twinkled softly as they caught the dim light of the bruised red sky, softly framing the delicate, hard face, of a young woman.

The man smiled broadly in response. "There now… I like it so much better when I can see your face, my lady,"

"Shut it," spat the woman angrily. "Release them, Bavare! Surely even you would not be foolish enough to keep this place when I know of it."

"Oh, I was simply waiting, my lady." he said casually, shrugging. "I knew their cries would reach you eventually." His face spread a cruel smile.

Her jaw tightened. "How long?" she said through gritted teeth.

"Ah, that is a secret, my lady," he grinned, putting a finger up to his lips.

"Do not speak to me of secrets! You know NOTHING!" she suddenly roared in fury, voice shattering the marsh air. "You know not what secrets are, nor of their consequences!" She stopped, then let out a slow breath from her nostrils, rolling liquidly into a fighting stance. When next she spoke her voice was quiet and low, rippling with bridled anger and hatred like her voice rarely held. "But you will."

A shiver went up the man's spine and his eyes flashed with desire. "You are magnificent…" he whispered. "Such fire… I have seen men run for the hills from that look, my lady," he grinned a little, eyes burning.

"No hills will save you." she growled.

Bavare sighed a little, leaning his head in his hand, supporting his elbow with his other hand. "You know, it looks so strange, to see hate in your eyes…" he cooed. "So unfitting for your face."

The woman closed her eyes a moment, curbing back a thousand different outbursts she was aching to explode. "Enough stalling, Bavare." she said tightly, control even more noticeably strained in her voice.

"But where is the music I'm so used to hearing in it?" he whined, a sparkle in his dark eyes.

"Release them!" she suddenly screamed in rage. "I grow tired of your feeble distractions to prolong their torture!"

Bavare chuckled a bit. "You've never been one to take your eyes off your quarry," he mused. "One of the many things I've admired about you. Gods save the man that someday holds you…"

The woman let out an angry cry of frustration, fists tightening. Finally she wheeled around, cloak billowing out behind her in a tidal wave. She strode with purpose over to the flame she had reached out to before she had been interrupted, and with a great cry crashed her fist down into the glass. It shattered, a small burst of white light erupting from it. The flame roared to four feet in height, burning wildly. The woman threw out her arm to the side and the fire instantly rushed in the direction it pointed to. The woman's fingers twirled round then tightened into a fist, and the river of flame obediently twisted around another globe, encasing it tighter until it shattered. The next flame exploded as it was released.

The woman ran at inhuman speeds from globe to globe, shattering glass after glass, until soon a thin trail of blood followed her from island to island, dripping from her hands.

"It goes on for hours, my lady," Bavare said quietly, watching her from where he stood. "Hundreds of miles. You cannot release them all like this…"

She wheeled on him in fury. "Do not tell me what I cannot do! If it takes my next century, I will spend it here!" she hissed before kicking open another orb violently.

Bavare smiled faintly. "Oh, I do not doubt that at all, my lady. I know you better."

"You know nothing." she growled icily under her breath, smashing open the next orb, not looking at him.

"You are bleeding, my lovely," he said quietly, watching her still.

The woman ignored him, shattering two orbs at once. The flames rushed from the ground as they were freed, twisting together and separating again, reaching out to her, spiraling up her arms. She jerked her arms back, flicking the streams like great whips, and lashed them forward around three glass orbs, shattering them instantly.

The man smiled. "You are beautiful." he told her, not blinking as he continued to stare.

A lash of fire suddenly whipped back, the woman not turning towards him, and barely struck him across the face. Bavare didn't cry out, but closed his eyes as his cheek began to blister into a piercing red welt. The woman wheeled on him, as hot tears began to roll down her cheek. "Stop it!" she screamed. "Just stop it!"

Bavare frowned, and walked forward, stopping when he reached her. "Why do you cry, my love?" he asked gently, with an infuriating sense of sincerity. Slowly he reached up to her face, as if to brush her tears away.

Fire flickered at the woman's tight fist, engulfing it in flame. Faster than mortal eyes could follow, she lashed forward and struck him hard across the face with her flaming open hand, right across the welted cheek. This time he cried out, falling to his knees, holding his cheek with both hands.

Her eyes bored down on him threateningly with a dangerous blaze. "You. Will. Never. Touch. Me." Without another look she turned on her heels, cloak brushing passed him. She strode to where she had been and closed her eyes, head bowed. She willed her anger to the side of her mind, and rushed inwards; the oh-so-familiar journey to her blazing core. There she met the inferno inside of her, and with a great cry she called to it. Instead of releasing her true form, unleashed from her body was a mighty gale of red-orange power, joined by the flames she held to her, exploding a blazing firestorm from her own core. It shot from her body upwards and outwards like a tempest inside the sun, shattering every glass orb within a quarter mile of her.

Fire exploded from the marshlands, each freed ball of flame erupting to a fifteen foot column of raging fire. Each bent on its base and curved towards the woman, rushing at her with great speed. They curved around again when they passed her, curling round and round her body, building into a great inferno. The woman's glistening silver eyes churned to a fiery golden shade, burning as if anything they looked at would ignite. Fire trickled and danced up and down her skin like electricity as she looked into the walls of fire. Every fire was completely giving itself to her.

With a flick of her eyes, five more glass orbs were obliterated. Her finger twitched, and six more exploded. Every breath of the woman destroyed another glass orb, releasing more and more fire, all of it now on its own rushing at her, swirling into her flaming pillar to add to the storm.

Bavare watched with wide eyes, but not in fear. His eyes still glistened with intense hunger, desire, and greedy awe at the sheer power building before him. He knew it would have grown easy for her to destroy this world of his, for he knew it would enrage her. And she was fire. He knew full well that she would come after him when the deed was done, and yet, he did not flee.

With every shattered orb, the tempest grew in intensity; Bavare could feel the air heat up more and more until he began to sweat. The fires roared with might, swirling and spiraling around the woman inside them, wrapping around her with such willingness. The power of the inferno began to call to the encaged flames, until finally, they were made strong enough to be able to fight their cages on their own. Glass began to shatter left and right, on its own now, as well as from the lashings of the column. The ethereal silence of the marsh was long forgotten. Bavare smiled softly to himself; his magick was being broken in the intense flames.

After what felt like another hour, the great pillar of flame could not sense any more of its kin across the haunting plane. The pillar was at least thirty feet in diameter, and at least eighty feet high. Every flame was released, and every flame was angry.

The column slowly shifted, and though he could not see her within the column, Bavare knew it was the woman turning to face him. Slowly he rose from his knees to his feet, and cried out in triumphant joy, spreading his arms. "Look at you!" he shouted, face spread in a wide grin. "Hail, my goddess! Don't you see!" he shouted over the fire's roar. "Don't you see your power?! How dare you question me after seeing yourself here?!"

The pillar slowly rolled forward.

"Hear me, Goddess!" he screamed, eyes growing feral and crazed in their hunger. "Just look at yourself! Look at how they breathe with you, your every order and wisp of strength! I am no threat to you, my great lady, don't you see that?"

The side of the blazing column facing him suddenly exploded to either side, revealing the young woman within, her arms spread out wide to her sides, commanding the parting fire. Her eyes were no longer a glistening silver, but pure fiery orange and red, like molten lava swirling in her sockets. Her cloak and hair blew furiously around her, whipped by the currents of the firestorm. She was walking towards him, slow as the death the fires whispered of.

Bavare smiled, bowing on his knees. "Hail, my great lady, my goddess!" His eyes glinted dangerously as they caught the advancing firelight.

*Your magick is dying…* a voice crackled as the woman's lips moved. There was an underlay of her natural voice, but it was overpowered by a deep, fiery sound to overwhelm it.

"Because of you! I always knew it would be a simple task for one such as you, great lady, you are the only that ever doubts yourself! You must understand!"

*You are undone.* the voice rumbled as those blazing eyes bore down on him like hot steel.
"Please, Princess, my Queen, I beg of you! Allow me to serve you!" he cried over the roars. "Let me be yours! I ache so for you!" His eyes were burning almost as intensely as her own; with a dark, poisoned hunger.

*You shall burn unsatisfied.* She was only yards from him now, and the heat was blazing his skin, threatening to ignite him before even touching him.

He screamed over the roars, looking like he was about to burst from his own intensity. He was quickly losing control of his desire. "I beg you, my goddess! I must be yours!"

*You seek to take me... You are a fool.* murmured the woman, or the fire surrounding her; it was growing harder to tell. The fire rolled forward from behind her, arching a good hundred feet over her head and spreading to form a mighty tidal wave, ready to crash down over her to envelope the man. It then also rushed forward from either side, right under and past her arms, diving like hungry jackals. The woman stopped sharply, shooting her arms up to her sides at shoulder height, palms facing the fires, eyes flicking back. The fire halted, churning backwards in on itself. It strained and tugged like a dog at its leash. She took a step back, eyes watching it over her shoulder, and the fire recoiled, shrinking down behind her.

Bavare looked up and his eyes blazed. Shaking with dying control, he crawled closer to her. "You spare me, my great lady... You… you accept my offer!"

*You will be silent!* Her solemn, monotone voice broke out into a roar of anger before he could move. *You have done enough! I only wish with every fiber of this body for you to feel the strain of my kindred… their rage. Their fury. Their hate. They fight me for your blood, pleas for death and justice in their cries! I hold them all back, and thus my own. They course through my veins and feed into my core, their wrath desperately trying to become my own! But I force them apart. I keep them separated.* After a moment to calm, she shook her head slowly. When next she spoke her voice was low again, still blazing. *Your magick is being ripped apart; your spells undone. This place will deteriorate to the ashes in which you have sentenced your soul.*

"I do not doubt your formidable power, great one; I knew from the moment I created this realm you would someday destroy it… I created it for that purpose," He smiled at her. Slowly he got to one knee, then his feet. "I stand yours, my Queen, evermore."

*You have lived your mortal life a fool, Bavare.* hissed the woman. *I would have pity, if only you earned it with greater deeds than torturous murder.*

Without warning, the woman's arms shot down to her sides, palms down, and the wave of flames flew to the ground, following her motion. It trickled along the ground at her feet, licking up at her fingers and legs, almost timidly. Because of the amount of fire, to stay low below her arms where she instructed, it spread itself out like a burning quilt along the marsh ground. Suddenly Bavare's eyes widened in fear.

The immense tower of flames and power had been hiding a much more sinister wave of energy that had gathered behind it. It was a scattered purplish black mass, resembling a huge swarm of wasps. It spread itself even wider than the flames had been, trickling with indigo streams of electricity within its particles. This was the remains of the man's magick cast over the marsh, his tightly weaved spell. It had been shattered by the power of the rebelling inferno, broken up to its present state.

"No…" breathed Bavare in horror. "Please, my Goddess, no!"

*I can no longer hear you, Bavare. Taste your own suffocating enchantment.* the woman spoke softly as she gazed upon him. *It was nothing we have done.*

His terror faded as he looked at the woman, and softly he smiled. "You are infinitely wise, my Queen…" he said quietly. "I applaud you. I have been outdone, fully and inescapably. I was no match for you. My goddess, my love…"

The blanket of fire suddenly rushed up as the woman's arms flung into the air from over her back and shoulders in an arch, fire flying over her as she crouched, all in one fluid motion, like she was pulling a monstrous blanket over herself. The fire obeyed, encasing her in a protective dome, at the same second that the sickly swarm of magick lunged at Bavare.

~~~

"Sssshhh…" the woman cooed, gently stroking a flickering ball of red-orange light. "I know, brother, I know…" The fire in her palm flickered a bit, licking up at her. Her silver eyes glittered softly as they danced with orange flickers from the firelight, hard and thoughtful. The fire, as if sensing her thoughts, gingerly sent up a tendril to trickle along her cheek. She smiled a little and waved her hand over it fondly. Then she sighed a little, smile fading. "I only wish I had discovered it sooner…" she murmured. "I guess it explains the dreams…" She shuddered a bit, eyes wincing shut. "No matter now, I guess... It's done." She tried to smile at the little flame. "Everyone was released and made it home safe. It just…" she trailed off, silver eyes still worried.

The flame danced quietly in her hand. *What?* it whispered, crackling.

She sighed again, running her free hand through her blood red hair. "It just… makes me paranoid. What else could he have been hiding? What could still be out there even now? Trying to lure me in… Or what if someone else has done something like this? What if--" She was cut off by the flame lurching forward, gently but firmly rolling along her cheek. She smiled softly, calming it back. "Alright, alright, I'm sorry… Ignore me. There you go," She gently extended her arm and released the flame into a huge wall-to-wall hearth where a merry fire blazed before the woman. She sat in front of it, knees hugged to her chest. Her eyes cast into the flames, lost in their own thoughts.

Description
Hundreds of thousands of transparent glass orbs scattered the ground spaciously, flickering orange and red from within; far as the eye could hope to see. They lay in the tall, swaying reeds through shallow waters, no insects in sight. Perfect silence cloaked the moist air. It seemed to stretch on forever, grassy islands in the marshes, dots of the orbs shimmering in the distance, beyond the horizon. Looking closer, the flickers contained inside the glass were flames; flickering, wavering, eerily calm. They swayed hauntingly within their transparent cages, as if dancing while hypnotized. The sky above shone a deep red, silvery gray clouds whispering by. No sun or moon watched over, but it wasn't dark. Not a soul was in sight; just those flames on the waterside, burning hypnotically in their glass enclosures.

A sweep of blood red passed over the dream-like marshland, soundlessly, breathlessly. A black cloak trailing the ground covered no footprints, reaching up to embrace the shoulders of its bearer. Two softly glowing silver eyes swept over the marsh; steady, fearless, suffering. The flames made no move out of stride as the figure passed by them, resulting in a disturbed frown in the lone wanderer's face.

Long blood red hair fell over delicate, powerful shoulders, silver tips swaying around defined shoulder blades beneath the work cloak,, hood raised. Two pale, naked feet strode very slowly, but with a kind of confidence and knowing, through the moist, muddy grasses, but made no mark, left no sound. The figure passed through like a dream, a soft wind, undetectable.

Those deep silver eyes scanned the area, not sure what they were looking for, if anything at all. It was clear that these eyes had seen much. These were eyes far older than the face of their owner. All the ages of the worlds echoed inside them; centuries of pain and battle cries, from the rage of a wildfire to the weak sobs of an infant child. There was a balanced core of wisdom in these eyes, something that no one could truly comprehend. A wide understanding shone behind them, an ancient burden no one else was permitted to bear. A blaze of fire sparked in their deeper chasms, but not from the orbs littering the ground.

A slender hand rested lightly on a sword hilt at the figure's left side, tucked neatly away in the folds of the cloak. Suddenly the figure stopped, looking down at an unwavering encaged flame. Silver eyes watched it steady, as if something was going to happen. When nothing did, its frown deepened. The figure crouched down beside the glass orb, and gently reached out with its right hand, fingertips touching the glass encasement. The flame within the orb did not move beyond its previous motion, almost in unison with the other flames.

The figure's frown shifted from confusion and bewilderment, to sorrow and a mournful concern. Its lips parted softly, a breath of sound escaping them, but the sound barely grasped being human. It more resembled the hiss and crackle of fire itself, sparking from the figure's throat. The fire in the orb did nothing.

A storm began to grow deep inside the figure as it quickly rose to its feet, eyes flashing dangerously. What was this? What was going on in this place? How was this possible? The figure's ancient mind whirled with the questions as emotions flooded it.

"Like you my garden?" a voice suddenly sneered from behind the figure, shattering the silence of the ghostly marsh.

The figure wheeled around, hand gripped tightly around the sword at its side instinctively. Its silver eyes churned with mighty thunderclouds as they narrowed at the speaker.

A second figure stood about fifteen feet away, clothed in all black robes save for a priestly red sash draped around his neck, the ends hanging near his ankles. His hands were folded regally over his rounded belly, a few rings wrapped around his thick, wrinkly fingers. His hair was cropped short and a brownish gray, two widely-set blackish-green eyes set into his pale face. Thin lips spread into the tiniest smile, but nothing about it was pleasant. He carried a very different air than the cloaked wanderer, and a much darker one.

"You seem to have been misinformed about what the word garden means," hissed the wanderer coldly, silver eyes boring into the man. Its face was still hidden in the shadow of its hood, save for those hard, fiery eyes. Below the current of anger and hate in its voice, there was a trace of music in its sound, like the hum of a warm nightly fire, or a forest wind.

The man smiled. "A garden means something different to everyone." he said smugly. He stepped forward, his own bare feet making a soft sloshing noise as he walked, black robes sweeping in slow-motion around him. He circled the figure slowly, watching it closely, eyes glinting darkly. "A garden is a sanctuary, for most. And this is mine."

"Sanctuary!" the wanderer spat in rage. "This is no sanctuary, this is a graveyard! A sick nightmare that you draw the unsuspecting into with the eerie song of the dying!"

The man stopped, and chuckled softly. He looked into the figure's eyes, almost admiringly. "Ah, and it seems I have underestimated you once again…" he mused. "You are very wise. I knew that regardless of that pompous old dragon I would eventually get your attention…"

The figure froze, fists balling angrily. "Is that what this is about?! You would do all this just to get to me?"

"Now, now, do not sell yourself short," the man smiled. "You make it sound as if you are not worth the trouble..." he sneered. A flicker of hunger burned behind his eyes.

The figure tensed, jaw tightening. Its silver eyes hammered mercilessly into the man, as if its very gaze would burst him into flames at any moment. "You will stop this." it said tightly, voice strained with control. "This place will be destroyed if I must do it myself."

The man smiled fondly. "Oh, I never doubted that. I'm sure you are quite capable of it. Your power is great indeed…" He took a step closer. "It would of course be no dishonor on me, were this place to be obliterated by one such as you…" Another step.

"Silence!" screamed the hidden swordsman, eyes flashing in rage. "Enough of this now! I order you to release them and destroy this place!"

"Oh, you may order what you like of me," he smiled. As he bowed and rose again, he pretended to wince in pain, holding his back. "Oh, but I fear, these old bones are so weak… I cannot take on such an immense task on my own," he pouted. He looked at his fingers casually. "Of course… some strength might be coaxed from this worn old body, if…"

"No." the figure said flatly.

"A plucky young warrior was at my side," the man finished with a grin.

The figure leaned back and promptly spat on the man's bare foot.

The man laughed, holding his shaking belly. "Oh, such fire!" He turned to the figure with those dark eyes, the hunger now more intense. "Come now, there's no need to hide…" he cooed, taking a few more steps forward, gently reaching up to the figure's hood. "We know each other far too well for that…"

There was a quick flash of black cloth, and the man was abruptly sent flying a good ten feet, landing face-down in the muddy marsh water. The figure lowered from its kick, locking its fighting stance. The man lifted his face from the water, spitting out a glob of marsh grass. His lifted himself gracelessly from the water and plopped over to the figure, wiping the water from his eyes. "I do wish you would realize how difficult you're being," he sighed, wringing out his robes.

"As I wish YOU would realize how STUPID you're being!" hissed the figure, reaching up and ripping down its hood. The silver tips in its long hair twinkled softly as they caught the dim light of the bruised red sky, softly framing the delicate, hard face, of a young woman.

The man smiled broadly in response. "There now… I like it so much better when I can see your face, my lady,"

"Shut it," spat the woman angrily. "Release them, Bavare! Surely even you would not be foolish enough to keep this place when I know of it."

"Oh, I was simply waiting, my lady." he said casually, shrugging. "I knew their cries would reach you eventually." His face spread a cruel smile.

Her jaw tightened. "How long?" she said through gritted teeth.

"Ah, that is a secret, my lady," he grinned, putting a finger up to his lips.

"Do not speak to me of secrets! You know NOTHING!" she suddenly roared in fury, voice shattering the marsh air. "You know not what secrets are, nor of their consequences!" She stopped, then let out a slow breath from her nostrils, rolling liquidly into a fighting stance. When next she spoke her voice was quiet and low, rippling with bridled anger and hatred like her voice rarely held. "But you will."

A shiver went up the man's spine and his eyes flashed with desire. "You are magnificent…" he whispered. "Such fire… I have seen men run for the hills from that look, my lady," he grinned a little, eyes burning.

"No hills will save you." she growled.

Bavare sighed a little, leaning his head in his hand, supporting his elbow with his other hand. "You know, it looks so strange, to see hate in your eyes…" he cooed. "So unfitting for your face."

The woman closed her eyes a moment, curbing back a thousand different outbursts she was aching to explode. "Enough stalling, Bavare." she said tightly, control even more noticeably strained in her voice.

"But where is the music I'm so used to hearing in it?" he whined, a sparkle in his dark eyes.

"Release them!" she suddenly screamed in rage. "I grow tired of your feeble distractions to prolong their torture!"

Bavare chuckled a bit. "You've never been one to take your eyes off your quarry," he mused. "One of the many things I've admired about you. Gods save the man that someday holds you…"

The woman let out an angry cry of frustration, fists tightening. Finally she wheeled around, cloak billowing out behind her in a tidal wave. She strode with purpose over to the flame she had reached out to before she had been interrupted, and with a great cry crashed her fist down into the glass. It shattered, a small burst of white light erupting from it. The flame roared to four feet in height, burning wildly. The woman threw out her arm to the side and the fire instantly rushed in the direction it pointed to. The woman's fingers twirled round then tightened into a fist, and the river of flame obediently twisted around another globe, encasing it tighter until it shattered. The next flame exploded as it was released.

The woman ran at inhuman speeds from globe to globe, shattering glass after glass, until soon a thin trail of blood followed her from island to island, dripping from her hands.

"It goes on for hours, my lady," Bavare said quietly, watching her from where he stood. "Hundreds of miles. You cannot release them all like this…"

She wheeled on him in fury. "Do not tell me what I cannot do! If it takes my next century, I will spend it here!" she hissed before kicking open another orb violently.

Bavare smiled faintly. "Oh, I do not doubt that at all, my lady. I know you better."

"You know nothing." she growled icily under her breath, smashing open the next orb, not looking at him.

"You are bleeding, my lovely," he said quietly, watching her still.

The woman ignored him, shattering two orbs at once. The flames rushed from the ground as they were freed, twisting together and separating again, reaching out to her, spiraling up her arms. She jerked her arms back, flicking the streams like great whips, and lashed them forward around three glass orbs, shattering them instantly.

The man smiled. "You are beautiful." he told her, not blinking as he continued to stare.

A lash of fire suddenly whipped back, the woman not turning towards him, and barely struck him across the face. Bavare didn't cry out, but closed his eyes as his cheek began to blister into a piercing red welt. The woman wheeled on him, as hot tears began to roll down her cheek. "Stop it!" she screamed. "Just stop it!"

Bavare frowned, and walked forward, stopping when he reached her. "Why do you cry, my love?" he asked gently, with an infuriating sense of sincerity. Slowly he reached up to her face, as if to brush her tears away.

Fire flickered at the woman's tight fist, engulfing it in flame. Faster than mortal eyes could follow, she lashed forward and struck him hard across the face with her flaming open hand, right across the welted cheek. This time he cried out, falling to his knees, holding his cheek with both hands.

Her eyes bored down on him threateningly with a dangerous blaze. "You. Will. Never. Touch. Me." Without another look she turned on her heels, cloak brushing passed him. She strode to where she had been and closed her eyes, head bowed. She willed her anger to the side of her mind, and rushed inwards; the oh-so-familiar journey to her blazing core. There she met the inferno inside of her, and with a great cry she called to it. Instead of releasing her true form, unleashed from her body was a mighty gale of red-orange power, joined by the flames she held to her, exploding a blazing firestorm from her own core. It shot from her body upwards and outwards like a tempest inside the sun, shattering every glass orb within a quarter mile of her.

Fire exploded from the marshlands, each freed ball of flame erupting to a fifteen foot column of raging fire. Each bent on its base and curved towards the woman, rushing at her with great speed. They curved around again when they passed her, curling round and round her body, building into a great inferno. The woman's glistening silver eyes churned to a fiery golden shade, burning as if anything they looked at would ignite. Fire trickled and danced up and down her skin like electricity as she looked into the walls of fire. Every fire was completely giving itself to her.

With a flick of her eyes, five more glass orbs were obliterated. Her finger twitched, and six more exploded. Every breath of the woman destroyed another glass orb, releasing more and more fire, all of it now on its own rushing at her, swirling into her flaming pillar to add to the storm.

Bavare watched with wide eyes, but not in fear. His eyes still glistened with intense hunger, desire, and greedy awe at the sheer power building before him. He knew it would have grown easy for her to destroy this world of his, for he knew it would enrage her. And she was fire. He knew full well that she would come after him when the deed was done, and yet, he did not flee.

With every shattered orb, the tempest grew in intensity; Bavare could feel the air heat up more and more until he began to sweat. The fires roared with might, swirling and spiraling around the woman inside them, wrapping around her with such willingness. The power of the inferno began to call to the encaged flames, until finally, they were made strong enough to be able to fight their cages on their own. Glass began to shatter left and right, on its own now, as well as from the lashings of the column. The ethereal silence of the marsh was long forgotten. Bavare smiled softly to himself; his magick was being broken in the intense flames.

After what felt like another hour, the great pillar of flame could not sense any more of its kin across the haunting plane. The pillar was at least thirty feet in diameter, and at least eighty feet high. Every flame was released, and every flame was angry.

The column slowly shifted, and though he could not see her within the column, Bavare knew it was the woman turning to face him. Slowly he rose from his knees to his feet, and cried out in triumphant joy, spreading his arms. "Look at you!" he shouted, face spread in a wide grin. "Hail, my goddess! Don't you see!" he shouted over the fire's roar. "Don't you see your power?! How dare you question me after seeing yourself here?!"

The pillar slowly rolled forward.

"Hear me, Goddess!" he screamed, eyes growing feral and crazed in their hunger. "Just look at yourself! Look at how they breathe with you, your every order and wisp of strength! I am no threat to you, my great lady, don't you see that?"

The side of the blazing column facing him suddenly exploded to either side, revealing the young woman within, her arms spread out wide to her sides, commanding the parting fire. Her eyes were no longer a glistening silver, but pure fiery orange and red, like molten lava swirling in her sockets. Her cloak and hair blew furiously around her, whipped by the currents of the firestorm. She was walking towards him, slow as the death the fires whispered of.

Bavare smiled, bowing on his knees. "Hail, my great lady, my goddess!" His eyes glinted dangerously as they caught the advancing firelight.

*Your magick is dying…* a voice crackled as the woman's lips moved. There was an underlay of her natural voice, but it was overpowered by a deep, fiery sound to overwhelm it.

"Because of you! I always knew it would be a simple task for one such as you, great lady, you are the only that ever doubts yourself! You must understand!"

*You are undone.* the voice rumbled as those blazing eyes bore down on him like hot steel.
"Please, Princess, my Queen, I beg of you! Allow me to serve you!" he cried over the roars. "Let me be yours! I ache so for you!" His eyes were burning almost as intensely as her own; with a dark, poisoned hunger.

*You shall burn unsatisfied.* She was only yards from him now, and the heat was blazing his skin, threatening to ignite him before even touching him.

He screamed over the roars, looking like he was about to burst from his own intensity. He was quickly losing control of his desire. "I beg you, my goddess! I must be yours!"

*You seek to take me... You are a fool.* murmured the woman, or the fire surrounding her; it was growing harder to tell. The fire rolled forward from behind her, arching a good hundred feet over her head and spreading to form a mighty tidal wave, ready to crash down over her to envelope the man. It then also rushed forward from either side, right under and past her arms, diving like hungry jackals. The woman stopped sharply, shooting her arms up to her sides at shoulder height, palms facing the fires, eyes flicking back. The fire halted, churning backwards in on itself. It strained and tugged like a dog at its leash. She took a step back, eyes watching it over her shoulder, and the fire recoiled, shrinking down behind her.

Bavare looked up and his eyes blazed. Shaking with dying control, he crawled closer to her. "You spare me, my great lady... You… you accept my offer!"

*You will be silent!* Her solemn, monotone voice broke out into a roar of anger before he could move. *You have done enough! I only wish with every fiber of this body for you to feel the strain of my kindred… their rage. Their fury. Their hate. They fight me for your blood, pleas for death and justice in their cries! I hold them all back, and thus my own. They course through my veins and feed into my core, their wrath desperately trying to become my own! But I force them apart. I keep them separated.* After a moment to calm, she shook her head slowly. When next she spoke her voice was low again, still blazing. *Your magick is being ripped apart; your spells undone. This place will deteriorate to the ashes in which you have sentenced your soul.*

"I do not doubt your formidable power, great one; I knew from the moment I created this realm you would someday destroy it… I created it for that purpose," He smiled at her. Slowly he got to one knee, then his feet. "I stand yours, my Queen, evermore."

*You have lived your mortal life a fool, Bavare.* hissed the woman. *I would have pity, if only you earned it with greater deeds than torturous murder.*

Without warning, the woman's arms shot down to her sides, palms down, and the wave of flames flew to the ground, following her motion. It trickled along the ground at her feet, licking up at her fingers and legs, almost timidly. Because of the amount of fire, to stay low below her arms where she instructed, it spread itself out like a burning quilt along the marsh ground. Suddenly Bavare's eyes widened in fear.

The immense tower of flames and power had been hiding a much more sinister wave of energy that had gathered behind it. It was a scattered purplish black mass, resembling a huge swarm of wasps. It spread itself even wider than the flames had been, trickling with indigo streams of electricity within its particles. This was the remains of the man's magick cast over the marsh, his tightly weaved spell. It had been shattered by the power of the rebelling inferno, broken up to its present state.

"No…" breathed Bavare in horror. "Please, my Goddess, no!"

*I can no longer hear you, Bavare. Taste your own suffocating enchantment.* the woman spoke softly as she gazed upon him. *It was nothing we have done.*

His terror faded as he looked at the woman, and softly he smiled. "You are infinitely wise, my Queen…" he said quietly. "I applaud you. I have been outdone, fully and inescapably. I was no match for you. My goddess, my love…"

The blanket of fire suddenly rushed up as the woman's arms flung into the air from over her back and shoulders in an arch, fire flying over her as she crouched, all in one fluid motion, like she was pulling a monstrous blanket over herself. The fire obeyed, encasing her in a protective dome, at the same second that the sickly swarm of magick lunged at Bavare.

~~~

"Sssshhh…" the woman cooed, gently stroking a flickering ball of red-orange light. "I know, brother, I know…" The fire in her palm flickered a bit, licking up at her. Her silver eyes glittered softly as they danced with orange flickers from the firelight, hard and thoughtful. The fire, as if sensing her thoughts, gingerly sent up a tendril to trickle along her cheek. She smiled a little and waved her hand over it fondly. Then she sighed a little, smile fading. "I only wish I had discovered it sooner…" she murmured. "I guess it explains the dreams…" She shuddered a bit, eyes wincing shut. "No matter now, I guess... It's done." She tried to smile at the little flame. "Everyone was released and made it home safe. It just…" she trailed off, silver eyes still worried.

The flame danced quietly in her hand. *What?* it whispered, crackling.

She sighed again, running her free hand through her blood red hair. "It just… makes me paranoid. What else could he have been hiding? What could still be out there even now? Trying to lure me in… Or what if someone else has done something like this? What if--" She was cut off by the flame lurching forward, gently but firmly rolling along her cheek. She smiled softly, calming it back. "Alright, alright, I'm sorry… Ignore me. There you go," She gently extended her arm and released the flame into a huge wall-to-wall hearth where a merry fire blazed before the woman. She sat in front of it, knees hugged to her chest. Her eyes cast into the flames, lost in their own thoughts.