Embers of Sun and Flame (Fuegoleon Vermillion x OC)

Chapter 52 Magic is life

The day arrived, and the two siblings walked down the stone steps deep beneath the earth, just as before. Only that this time the way was lit by the glow of the hair, much like magma. Their steps echoed around the walls, along with another sound, a hum. It felt faintly familiar to Fuegoleon, but it wasn't Solara's hum. It was Idalia's. Perhaps one that Solara had heard and adapted into her own version. Perhaps. Or then he just imagined the familiarity. He wasn't sure.

The brimstone eyed stopped in front of the gate, but didn't pull out a key. Instead, she gazed up, and murmured something. There was a flicker of mana, which turned into a blaze that ran over the gate, opening the doors.

"Are you royalty?" Mereo asked with a quirked brow as the doors were opening up before them.

"No," Idalia answered with a flow, gazing over her shoulder.

"And yet you don't need a key."

They gazed into each other's eyes as the doors creaked fully open, coming to a stop with a low clang.

"I have many crowns, but I am no queen. The only thing I rule is myself."

"The hell is that supposed to mean?"

"The ruins of old kingdoms, faded into dust, are such fascinating places to visit." She stepped through the gate, turning to the two while on the other side. "Don't you think so?" She tilted her head, making the two only frown. Fuegoleon less so, as he had grown accustomed to Idalia's quirks. But even he couldn't shake the faint feeling of uneasiness that came with the answerless answer.

"Can't say that I have visited many ruins," he said, slight hesitance oozing between the syllables as he stepped through, feeling mana seeping into him, enveloping him, as if a blanket.

She let out a thoughtful hum. "Is that so?"

"Yes."

A breezed passed them, coming from the north as Mereo followed. The door closed behind them with the same, heavy thump. She, too, could feel mana enveloping them, radiating from everything, including Idalia.

What's up with that woman? She acts and speaks as if she was noble, but she feels... primal. Though suppose that could be said about myself.

The brimstone eyes turned to Mereo for a moment before shifting back to Fuego. "You'll be late from the ceremony."

---

I can't say that I expected quite as much. Mereo glanced at the bind around her arm. It was much like the cuff that had been placed around her arm on her last visit to Thean soil, but this one was thinner, more frail, and this time around, she could distinguish the various sources of mana far better than before. She could feel the flows, flutters, echoes and scorches of mana around her, in the people around her. But she could also feel the absence of mana in some around. They were not cold, however. Usually when a person has died, their mana fades, and makes them feel colder in a strange, chilling way that reaches down into one's bones.

Even the world around them held mana. It was in everything, but when a person dies, mana seeps out of them, as if they were a broken vase, unable to hold the precious life nectar anymore. There was nothing unnatural about it. It never felt wrong, but there was always a sense of dread, no matter how faint. Perhaps, because it reminded one of their own mortality.

But these people, they were without mana without feeling cold. There was warmth, but it was directed inwards, as if put on a slow burner, and yet, it wasn't like mana. It wasn't a flutter, a flow, a twist or a turn, it was a presence. They were just people. There was no overlay of magic, wrapping them in whatever fate that was predetermined to them even before they were born, they were just them, with every possible fate within their reach.