Page 13 of Crown of Flame
Somehow, that intrigues me. What is this creature, if not a murderous monster bent on killing everything?
“Like I said, I’m staying with you until you give me answers,” his voice projects inside my mind.
Or perhaps he only kills dark elves.
But he doesn’t seem to know what a dark elf is either.
“That’s fine,” I say. “Just let me go. I won’t run.”
Perhaps it’s rude of me to even assume his gender. He feels male. The voice that speaks inside my head feels male. But it’s possible he doesn’t have a gender at all.
“I’ll let you go if you swear you won’t run. If you run, I will kill you.”
Panic shoots through me, adrenaline rushing down my spine.
So far, he’s only killed dark elves. But something in his conviction tells me he isn’t lying.
“Okay,” I say. “I swear.”
He releases me. I regain control of my body, feeling an unknowable surge of excitement. What is this feeling coursing through me?
The dumb part of my brain that wants to survive at any cost tempts me to run through the wilderness anyway.
But perhaps this is for the best. If I’m honest, I stand no chance in the wilderness by myself.
I’m a strong and capable fighter. But I don’t fuck with magic or wild animals. Those will dispatch me just as easily as–
They’re all dead.
The realization crushes me. The people I trusted most to look after me, basically my only remaining family… They’re dead on the third floor of the tower, little more than crumbling skeletons.
I’m going to come back and give them a proper burial.
“What’s wrong?”
The creature’s voice emerges inside my mind, and I suddenly wonder if he can read my thoughts.
The moment he let go of my body, I clenched my fists and nearly crumpled to the ground in sorrow.
“What do you mean?”
The idea that he might have insight into my mind that even I lack feels tremendously violating.
“Just now, I let you go, and I felt a wave of sorrow overtake you. Why?”
I turn around to him, returning to his side. He provides a warmth that might guard me against the coming chill, though only partly.
I study his face, or what I think is his face.
A stream of fire connects a series of volcanic rocks, pulled from the tower and made molten. The rocks have created an almost humanoid mask, ribcage, and arms around the constantly swirling vortex of flame that comprises his being.
It’s almost as though the first thing he did on entering our realm was to assemble a body that resembled the dark elves, though far more strange and disjointed. There is no singular structure that makes up this entity.
He’s rocks and fire that moves through the air.
“Are you reading my thoughts?” I ask.
He thinks over the question as I join his side.