Page 4 of Crown of Flame

But how to reach it?

An adjacent cliff beckons me. I might not quite reach the source of the smell, but it will get me close.

The world grows smaller beneath me as I drive my arms forward then pull myself up, freeing and planting myself at intermediate intervals.

I can feel the smell growing closer as I near the top of this cliff, but it’s still far away from me. I will need to move much higher to get to it.

As I pry myself free from the minerals, then bring myself up to level ground, something immediately catches my attention as my stomach gurgles.

“What have we here?”

The erratic screeching is only slightly more obvious than the sound of burrowing nearby. A small gray creature climbs out of the ground’s surface, peeking around out of the rocky surface to search for nearby creatures.

His pointed ears perk up in search of disturbances, his black, narrow eyes scanning the perimeter.

Goblins don’t normally separate from their kind. They’re stronger in groups, far more adept at handling their unsuspecting victims when they can overwhelm them with their presence. One goblin by itself is not a threat.

A single, solitary goblin is rarely satisfying to devour. I hunger in both conventional and unconventional ways, and I can already tell this won’t please me. But sometimes a little bit is enough.

“I suppose you’ll do.”

He turns to me, hearing my words that echo in his mind. Curiously, he perks up his snout, clearly not aware of my capabilities. I’ve ripped the life free from many of my kind, and I will probably kill many more.

“Won’t put up much of a fight though. Pity.”

I careen forward, propelled by jets of flame, then lift him into the air without physically touching him. He is hardly a strain for my mind, his small body almost weightless in my grasp.

He cannot hide his confusion as I stretch my fiery arms toward his suspended form, my mind balancing him in the air above me. Reaching for my hovering foe, I first char his flesh, then rip his chest cavity open with my flames.

Brightly, his soul shines white against blackened and burnt skin, the only contribution of value from his meager existence. I pull it free.

The goblin falls to the ground, lifeless.

He flops against the rocky surface before tumbling downward off of the cliff toward the distant chasm, where the remainder of his flesh will surely rip and char from his body in the lava pits. That’s assuming he doesn’t land on a rock below and splatter himself.

Gripping the soul I’ve pried free from his core, I can already taste the darkness that envelops it. I open my fiery maw, devouring the goblin’s essence.

As I suspected, it does almost nothing for me. This goblin’s vices are little more than a snack for me, his energy almost negligible against the sum of my being.

“Now what were you looking for?”

I suspect it might be the same thing I am. That strong scent of iron is triggering senses I didn’t know I had, alluring me toward an unknown destination.

Hovering forward once more, I reach one of the taller cliffs and stare up toward the bright red infinite ceiling. If my senses are accurate, this should lead me where I need to be.

Once more, I drive my arm into the wall, shattering it in place, before pushing my other arm higher up, scaling upward toward the foreign scent that so strangely entices me. I can feel parts of the wall melting against my grip, becoming almost molten as I climb.

I survey the area for signs of other prey but find nothing that satisfies me.

Once I’ve ascended this cliff face, pulling myself upward, I notice remnants of the structures I’ve been seeing more frequently lately. The rocks have been pulled up from the ground and hollowed out, little holes in the rock revealing smaller entrances.

Beside the rock structures are pieces of metal in various shapes, bound to rock and a material I’m unfamiliar with. Touching the material causes it to smoke and catch fire, leaving only the strangely shaped metal in my grasp.

“Fascinating.”

I study the forms of the structures, then drive my arms into the ground, pummeling it until I have a freestanding resource to mold and shape. Using my mind, I lift up the loose rock, trying to reshape it to more suitably mimic my model.

I’m not even sure what I’m creating, but it fascinates me, the iron smell closer than ever but still temporarily set aside.