Wet Fire

An Ancient Inscription #1

A few months ago...

Near the edge of the flames was a small clay pot, rust-colored, with ancient inscriptions pressed into the sides. The rim of the pot was deadly sharp and curved inward, so that the pot's contents were hidden in shadow.

The flames of the fire danced in the reflections on the floor and on the smooth sides of the clay pot. The pot sat on a warm, wet, stone floor. Water had dripped down in large droplets from the ceiling and gathered in puddles. The air was thick and musty.

"Bring me the dust." said a soft female voice.

A hooded figure moved into the scene and strode over to the fireside. Using two hands, the figure grabbed the pot and handed it to Oryna the Violet. Oryna stroked the glossy outer surface of the dust pot and stared at her reflection on its sides. In the dim light she looked a lot like her mother. She frowned and traced her thin fingers on the rim of the pot. "It's time." Oryna took in a deep breath and tapped a few grains of dust into her hand.

The dust was a pale green, crystalline solid. She closed her thin fingers around the dust and hung her hand over the fire. What have I gotten myself in to?

Oryna wondered if the kid who hired her services was responsible enough to deal with the wif once it had been cursed.

"Do it!" cried the hooded figure.

Oryna withdrew her hand and scowled. "Shut up, you fool! Can you not see that I am concentrating? You are not paying me enough for this!"

The hooded figure said nothing. Oryna flicked her wrist and tossed the powder into the flames.

For a moment, nothing happened. The wif remained unscathed in the copper pan at the center of the fire.

And then suddenly the small fire erupted. Flames of dark fire burst out and whirled around the room, sending streaks of purple light in every direction. The hooded figure screamed and fell to the floor, but Oryna remained standing. She let the hot air surround her. She felt alive as the flames crept up her legs and gushed through her bronze hair. As a Violet, she knew that the flames of dark fire could not harm her, instead, she had to use them to her advantage.

Oryna channeled the energy of the dark fire and let it flow across her skin leaving her with no burns whatsoever. She then saw the wif glow and begin to spark. It worked.

The flames died down and left nothing but embers in the hearth. The room was silent again, except for a sound of shuffling feet, coming closer.

Oryna's cousin, Alase Sheare, rushed into the chamber. Alase was about ten years old and came to live with Oryna about a year ago. She was average height for her age and had thick, wavy, hair the color of roasted chestnuts.

"Violet!" Alase stopped when she saw what had just happened. She immediately dropped to the floor and covered her face with the hood of her cloak. Only a Violet can perform a cursing without a cloak--she remembered.

Oryna turned to see her cousin and the cloaked kid both on the ground. "Get up, both of you. It's safe now." The two rose, silent.

Oryna walked across the dead coals of the hearth and plucked the wif out of the copper pan using a red silk handkerchief. She held it up to the torch, watching how the light passed through the gemstone. A peridot.

"Use only this scarf to pick up the stone-and do not touch the stone whatever you do." Oryna set the stone down on the floor.

The hooded figure moved forward and took out a wooden box, pained with ornate designs. He snatched up the handkerchief, grabbed the stone, and placed it in the box.

"Wat're you going to with it?" Alase interjected. She shuffled towards the hooded figure.

"Step away from there, Alase."

The hooded figure said nothing and walked straight past Alase and up the spiral stairs. He left nothing but a gentle gust of air.

"What was it-the curse? Can you teach me?"

Sometimes, Oryna regretted taking Alase Sheare in as her apprentice. She was curious-too curious.

"I cannot tell you. And no."

"Please! I promise to learn it well, Violet!" Alase begged.

"No. I hope you never have to learn it."

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