Page 3 of Crown of Flame

So we stride forward, seemingly one step every minute. I caress Aldor’s palm for reassurance, enjoying his warmth. The unassuming bookshelves pass slowly by us, the studious dark elves too busy to notice a staggered, barely audible series of steps.

We reach the black stone stairs built into this tower, and I can already hear the screams resonating from the floors above as we ascend. The second floor is lined with alchemy tables and littered with bones.

Thankfully, or perhaps forebodingly, there’s nobody on this floor right now, but a steady drip in the corner of the large room reveals a spout, dripping blood from the floor above into a strange device.

They’re draining the prisoners. Are we already too late?

I clench my jaw, thinking about what horrors we might find on the floor above.

We climb the next flight of stairs, unworried about alerting anybody here.

The third floor is a series of cells, filled with imprisoned humans. But terrifyingly, they all seemed to be hooked up by a smaller series of tubes inserted into their arms. These connect to one larger series of tubes, which stretch across the room and lower into the floor below.

This is our chance.

I don’t have time to take in the disturbing sight in front of me. People are slowly dying, and we can save them.

We just need to find the key and free the prisoners. Clearly, the elven guard monitoring the room is keeping it somewhere on his person.

That’s when I notice Beth, who has left the ring’s area, and is now running toward the elven guard.

“Beth!” Nielsen hisses under his breath. “What are you doing? Come back!”

I feel my eyes widen and realization slowly takes hold.

She reaches the elven guard and points toward where we’re standing. He looks as if he was expecting us.

“Run,” Nielsen whispers.

2

CINIS

Pits of fire scorch around me, rocky trails spiraling around rivers and lakes of lava. They lead everywhere and nowhere at once. Above me, vast torrents of lava columns run from the infinite abyss toward an indiscernible ceiling. The spatters of lava that spill downward from the torrents refresh me, giving me strength.

I hunger.

For what, I’m not certain.

I’d love to rip my fiery arms into something delicious, prying its essence from its body and devouring it whole, but there have been fewer stragglers lately.

The goblins have mostly retreated into their deep caverns, and the jewel ogres are celebrating in the eastern realm.

And lately they haven’t been satisfying to me, anyway.

For the past several cycles, I’ve craved something I couldn’t articulate, and it’s driven me toward the end of my wits. No soul has fulfilled this craving, and the gems and minerals I’ve pried free from the walls have all tasted dull

I feel as if I’m evolving beyond my own home, toward something I cannot fathom. And that terrifies me.

I hover across the vast expanse, my flames pelting the ground and propelling me upward with a roar. I analyze everything around me, smelling the air while closing my eyes.

The darkness is comforting and centers me.

There are the usual smells of soot and sulfur that stimulate my senses. The sounds of flames and magma, jetting and flowing outward, echo through the infinite caverns.

But in the distance, I smell something new.

It reeks of iron but is curiously more volatile.