carl@fire

Ir'alith moved her head quickly from side to side, but she could find no trace of Carl. His voice sounded distorted in an odd manner with which she was not familiar.

{He has perhaps invoked dragon-magic to contact you?}

She rocked in place, hoping Carl would somehow assume she had not received his message. No, Papa, I cannot. He will sense that my mind is broken. That I—

{If he would reject you now, then he is not fit to court you.}

The words made a certain sense to Ir'alith as she considered them. And, as she further considered, it seemed unlikely that speaking with Carl would trigger within her that same rage and hatred she had been wrestling with beginning several hours after she had been freed from her prison.

She had, very unwisely, been unable to restrain herself in the course of her scouting of Khir Turuhm, killing dozens of humans and raising some level of alarm. There had been no danger of being caught—not unless the entire city was a trap as her father had cautioned. Were there another of the enormous arcane formations which had led to her previous capture, she was not fully confident that the armor she now wore would protect her. It must have limits even if the legends claimed otherwise, she reasoned.

That was when she was sane. In her episodes of mad rage, she cared not whether she was captured once more so long as humans could be slain. At times, her madness had intensified to the extent that she even considered destroying the entire city, including the dwarves she had intended to save.

It horrified her.

She had felt so free and strong when she was released from that white prison! What was happening to her now?

It felt as though her thoughts were attacking her.

Again and again she relived bits and pieces of her torments, each time feeling her hatred grow. Dimly she knew that this was not her. Ir'alith may have been young with having seen only a single century pass, but she was not foolish, nor was she prone to rash decision-making.

Her vow to eradicate all humans seemed to be the epitome of her madness. It had seemed so right, so justified at the time.

She hated humans.

But did she hate all humans? What of those who did not follow the two goddesses she hated more than she hated any other living thing save for a single man? What of those who had no faith at all or were sworn to other deities, those who had lived peacefully with the other races? Surely such humans must exist somewhere?

She had pondered such things in her more lucid moments, but too soon her thoughts turned again to slaughter and the certainty that no humans could be allowed to live. Perhaps the races that had been subordinated and enslaved should be destroyed as well. They had been contaminated, had they not? Could they be trusted not to betray once the humans were gone?

Ir'alith rocked back and forth in her small cave, tormented at that moment again by the vivid memory of the time that the third hero had ripped off her tail and beaten her with it in order to punish her. The memory passed, and she felt again that same certainty that she had felt before.

She would kill every living creature.

Why would she concern herself with saving these miserable dwarves? She had never exchanged names with any of them nor entered into any pact to protect them. They could offer her nothing: their devices were worthless to one who possessed such magical might as she, their forges could not possibly craft a metal to match either her axe or her dragon-gifted armor, and she had never even spoken to a dwarf. Were they especially entertaining? Would their continued existence benefit her people in some way?

No, it was a waste of effort to liberate them. She could simply use a spell…

She stopped rocking and uncurled her body while she considered the matter. What spell could she use? The dwarven city was too large for her breath to destroy it in a single blast with her present capacity, and she felt that it was beneath her to attack more than once for a task as trivial as destroying a city. Unless…

If she stopped maintaining the barrier which protected her people, she would have more than enough power. Why was she required to protect them? Had they helped her when she was in need? Had they bravely fought the humans while she was held captive, demanding her release?

They had not. They had not achieved a single victory without her. All they had managed to do was die. Why should she protect weaklings such as them? They could…

Her claws shot to the sides of her head, her eyes wide. No! I would never abandon my people! She wanted to roar her defiance of the weakness inside of her, but she felt too small for such an act at that moment.

{Daughter, you must be calm. Your agitation feeds itself.}

Her father's comforting presence enveloped her. Papa, help me. I cannot go on with my mind in this state. This madness is not something that will heal with time.

{You must not surrender so easily, Alith! What would your mother think were she to see you behave in this manner? To see you accept defeat not a single day after your return?}

The question incensed her, causing her to lose control of her shifted form and revert to her natural state.

She, Ir'alith, accept defeat?

Surrender?

Her skin turned dark red.

It was impossible.

The third hero could not break her.

The goddesses could do nothing but enrage her.

She had vowed that she would achieve her revenge, and that left no possibility for doubt.

Smoke poured out of her mouth as she exhaled. Her eyes glowed brightly enough to outshine the faint green aura of her armor and bathe the small cave in a red light.

She would begin by destroying this city. It would take but a moment, and…

She clenched her teeth. No. I. Will. Not.

She would not fall to something so feeble as insanity.

But she was not decided yet on what she would do. She needed time to consider it. I cannot attack the humans now. I would lose myself, perhaps never to recover. You were correct on this matter, Papa. I must bide my time. I will overcome this weakness.

Ir'alith felt her father's pride and approval through their link.

She merely needed time.

A distraction.

"Hello, Carl," she responded at last, assuming whatever magic he was using would carry her words back to him. It is the first time he has contacted me. Perhaps he has news of his fishing scheme?

"How's everything going?" Carl asked after a moment.

The question, asked with his usual, dragon-like casualness, plunged her back into the depths of despair as she considered it. She had years of toiling still in order to carry out her vengeance to its fullest extent, yet she was hiding in this tiny cave out of fear. She should be down below, killing humans, destroying the city to be done with it, not…

She clutched her head and sobbed quietly. I cannot rid myself of these insidious thoughts! She squeezed the sides of her head, as though she could somehow crush the madness inside her skull.

At last Ir'alith regained her senses, or so she believed.

The answer to the question was that everything was not going well. Freedom she may have, but sanity seemed fleeting, and she could not accomplish her goals without both.

"Not as I had hoped," she said with a sad flick of her tail. I was so sure of myself earlier this day. I had hoped that by now I could have achieved something more than killing a few insignificant humans.

"What's wrong?" Carl asked.

Ir'alith chose not to consider the question deeply, lest she lose herself in those thoughts once more. "Nothing that can be healed, I fear," she replied.

Maladies of the mind could not be healed by magic nor alchemical concoction.

"Tell me, Carl," she said, thinking to bring the talk to a topic she could safely manage, "with what matter do you seek my help?"

"I, uh, was…" There was a slight pause, and she felt her anticipation growing. "I was hoping you could help with something magic-related."

"Magic?" Ir'alith repeated the word. He seeks my aid with magic? Surely this is in jest.

"Yeah. I don't know how to use magic, and I need it for something."

The absurdity of the words caused Ir'alith's previous worries and fears to evaporate. She nearly laughed at the idea of it. He claims not to know magic after displaying it so clearly when he freed me? Her lips curved into a slight smile. "Is this an attempt to raise my spirits?"

{As a suitor, what he may lack in tact and refinement he compensates for in—}

Papa, please, not now.

"No," Carl said, sounding sincere, "I'm still figuring things out a bit here, and magic's one of those things I haven't really had time to look into yet."

{Perhaps he remains unable to use magic from this plane?}

The idea gave her pause. She had never traveled to another plane, but it seemed plausible that the flow of energies could be vastly different. I think I will see with my own eyes. "I will be there soon," she said, deciding that no further words were necessary at that moment.

Ir'alith moved to the edge of the cliff, unwilling to arrive hunched over as she was inside the tiny cave. She focused on the astral essence of Carl, which she had brushed her mind against with fondness earlier in the day, then divined his location. Murmuring the words for the spell as a mnemonic was unnecessary for her, but she chose to do it regardless, as she so often did; the act reminded her of time spent learning spellcraft and magic on the knee of her mother when she was young.

A purple-ringed gate appeared just past the edge of the cave, hanging in the air. She twisted it in her mind, and it spun about its middle and dropped slightly. Her tail easily pulled her axe free of the rock that it had become embedded in. She took a moment to ready herself, then hopped into the opening.

She landed lightly on her feet on the other side of the gate, and her axe ruptured the firm, dry ground behind her as it followed. After releasing the negligible flow of energy required to maintain the gate and allowing it to disperse, she looked around.

The region she had been transported to was warm, though not as hot as where she had previously been—a cave on the side of a fiery volcano. Furthermore, it seemed to her that this place was not so distant either. She could perhaps have run here in less than an eighth of a day or flown in even less. There were no trees visible, and only small bush-like vegetation cropped up from the ground in some spots. With her eyes that could see in the dark, she caught sight of a herd of four-hoofed long-necks in the distance, but there was little else nearby.

Carl sat in front of her, seated inside some sort of mechanical device that she had never seen before. Were it much larger with armor and guns she might have thought it one of the humans' war vehicles, but this seemed…

Her eyes lingered on Carl, who still remained in his human disguise, even though it was far too large a form to remain believable, she imagined. He sat casually, watching her. His beard and parts of his skin were dyed crimson, as were his clothes. He has seen battle recently.

Somehow, the knowledge that this human-shaped creature was Carl allowed her to remain in control of herself, rather than succumb once more to the madness raging inside of her, screaming and clawing to break loose.

Ir'alith removed her helmet, as was polite when speaking with one she had no intention of fighting or killing. "Greetings, Carl," she said, the thought of killing again giving her a deep sense of melancholy as she considered how close she had again come to destroying the home of so many dwarves. She shook her head in an attempt to clear her mind.

Carl stared at her as though entranced for a moment.

Ir'alith resisted the urge to cover her face, feeling suddenly shy before her savior and the strongest being she had ever encountered.

"Hi, Ir'alith," he said, continuing to look into her eyes with his unfathomably deep brown orbs. "Good to see you again."

The words caused her to blush slightly and her hearts to beat faster. How can he speak so casually of courting me the instant I arrive!

{It was a simple statement, Alith. He has shown himself prudent in the past; did he not imply he would court you openly once our people were safe?}

Her father's gentle reprimand caused her to blush more deeply at having thought Carl's every action and word would center around his courtship of her. You are correct as always, Papa. "Yes, I feel the same way," she replied, attempting to speak nonchalantly despite her whirling thoughts at knowing that her savior was pleased to see her once more. She sought out something to distract herself with and focused on the mechanical device in which he was seated.

Ir'alith stepped closer as she examined it. I sense the use of magic in its crafting… "What manner of device is this?"

"It's a magic-and-steam-powered car," Carl said. "I was driving around in it for a while, but it ran out of magic so I was sort of stuck here."

Car? Ir'alith began wandering around the vehicle, sensing the magic-infused glyphs that were placed nearly everywhere on the inside of… I understand. Car is the name of this device. So many glyphs are etched into it, crude though they may be. Their purpose is to strengthen the materials used in its construction? Powered by magic and steam? The heated form of water? Why is it not powered solely with magic? How perplexing.

She came to a stop on the side opposite Carl, staring down at the blood-drenched female corpse laying next to him which was missing its head. "Who was this?" she asked, already having some suspicions.

"This is Mina," Carl said, wincing slightly. "She's the one who built this car."

Ir'alith inspected the body, but there was no trace of magic remaining in it. He acts with such forcefulness! "You killed her and ate her head, then took her car?" Ir'alith said, grinning. She must have been some foolish human he encountered. He kept this vehicle because it was so intriguing. "I would expect nothing less."

"Well, actually," Carl said, shaking his head, "the queen had her killed as we were trying to escape. She wanted the body so she could—"

"How vile!" Ir'alith snarled, her rage rising as she again examined the female corpse and realized that no human woman could possess a body with a shape such as this. She must have been an elf who was to be enslaved, and he attempted to rescue her as he was leaving the humans' lands! "I know what you speak of. Good that you were able to prevent such a thing from occurring." The lust of the humans knows no bounds. They would even animate a corpse to serve as a partner.

{Detestable.}

Carl was nodding along in agreement, surely having reached the same conclusion. "Definitely. She, uh, got gnawed on a bit by some big wolf-thing with bone spikes on its back—"

"A fang-spike," Ir'alith guessed, recognizing part of the beast's description. They were not common within her peoples' lands, but she had seen them on occasion.

"Yeah, a fang-spike," Carl said slowly, seeming to appreciate the name. "So I had to take care of that, and then I came out here since I wasn't really in a mood to deal with people, if you know what I mean."

He is weary of the humans from the tone of his voice. His infiltration must have exhausted him, I suppose. "Yes, I have been of a similar mind of late," she agreed, looking down as the admission caused her to think again of her weakness. "It seems the more time I spend near them, the less…sane I become." Being here, so far away from any humans feels so soothing.

Carl nodded. "Yeah, sometimes I just need some me time so I can relax a bit and cool off."

"Me time," Ir'alith repeated, considering the very dragon-like description of meditation. "I am uncertain how relaxing such time would be for me," she said diplomatically. Meditation seems to only amplify my madness.

{Recall the reason for your presence here.}

Her father's words raised her out of her mental descent, and she looked back to Carl. "I have no desire to let my thoughts remain with such matters," she said. "You seek my aid for learning magic? I still have difficulty believing it."

"Haven't needed it until now," Carl said, referring to the need for magic as though it was something he truly had no particular use for. "I was just fishing before."

Fishing? The word brought back his cavalier reference to hunting deities with the spear of the primordial sea god, causing her to laugh. "Yes, fishing," she said, using the same word. "I assume you were successful?"

"Yeah, I'd call it a success," Carl said. "Sent some souvenirs to my youngest daughter."

A success? He speaks so casually even of battling deities! And he sent trophies from his hunt to his youngest daughter? They were not even worthy of his eldest? If… If I were to bear his children, would he think them worthy of his hunting trophies at all?

The thought made her blush profusely, as though she had dipped her face into the volcano from earlier, and she was forced to avert her gaze before she began to glow. "That is…" How many children would he wish for me to bear? She blushed even more deeply at the idea, feeling her thoughts begin to spin out of control. "Good," she said bashfully. "You are a strong, caring father," she said, hoping her reference to the positive feelings she had on the matter was subtle enough not to cause offense after he had proclaimed that he wished to wait before courting her. "Your children are fortunate to have you."

"Thanks, Ir'alith," Carl said, sounding as though he knew exactly what she meant.

The words and tone of voice caused her to grow even more flustered, and she quickly covered her face with her tail before it began to glow from her intense embarrassment. Her hearts pounded like hammer blows in her chest, and she felt as though she had somehow become lighter on her feet.