Jack wondered if it was maybe a bad thing that he was starting to get used to the feeling of being disembodied. It seemed to be happening a lot lately and was starting to get annoying. The upside though was that there was something here this time. He was in a dark room. At least that was what he was calling it. Everywhere he looked, dark vastness greeted his eyes. He had no idea if there were any walls out there, somewhere. For all he knew, the blackness just went on forever. In the center of the room was a fire pit with a sturdy wooden chair sitting a few feet from it. His Phoenix cloak was draped over the back of the chair acting as an improvised back cushion.

Jack knew what to do without hesitation. He reclined in the wooden chair and wrapped the cloak around him like a blanket. Then he proceeded to take a nap. Sleep was very important to him. When you’ve been to the places he had been and lived with people like the old man. A safe place to lay one's head without worry was precious indeed.

Hours passed and he dreamt of himself. Blood pulsed and synapses sparked. A thousand bodily processes played through his dreams. It was peaceful. Until he started to see something strange. They were these… small passages in his body. They weren’t blood vessels, nerves, or anything else he was familiar with. Instead, they were mostly empty… mostly anyways. The passages that went through his dominant hand had expanded and light flowed through them. It followed the open channel to a kind of reservoir in his elbow before it stopped. Once there the power was… smelted? The reservoir was somehow heating up the light till it separated into two substances. The pure red light that went to his center and a cluster of sickly colors that seemed to be turned into kindling?

Jack opened his eyes. He was still in the chair with the fire pit next to it, the only difference was that the pit now had a pile of kindling and some logs stacked up. Well, nothing left but to do it. He reached down and systematically set up the logs and kindling. This was his first step down the path of power in this brand new world.

Once he had it set up, it then occurred to him that he had no lighter or matches.

Just will it to burn. A familiar, mighty voice boomed.

Sentinel is that you speaking to me? He asked mentally. It still felt a little silly to think his thoughts at someone.

Yes, it is I, my Adjudicator. I see your short time in your new world Has been fruitful. It has only been a few hours and you have already begun to activate your Soulscape. He couldn’t be certain but the great voice seemed to have a touch of smugness to it.

Is that what this place is called? I just thought I was back in your… hole in spacetime… thing.

No, this time I am in your world. At least a piece of me is. Geometric shapes and runes started to appear out of the darkness and merged to form a rough outline of a human. It was like a sketch that walked out of a master’s canvas. Only now instead of just black, the lines were all the colors of the rainbow on a black background.

Does this make you more comfortable? I can see into almost all places but rarely do I send out pieces of myself so this is a rare occasion. I thought it was worth it in this case. Just focus on your Hearth and imagine it on fire.

Having never been turned wrong by the strange entity he turned towards the pit and imagined a small Flame. Then he directed the image towards the pit. Small Flames began to pop up sporadically. They were soon followed by red tongues of Flame that caressed the logs. It didn’t take long for the Fire to cover the whole pile and start to burn steadily.

Strength began to flood him as the logs began to diminish in the Flame. That’s strange. He squatted close and watched carefully. The logs are not turning to charcoal. They are just… going away. He started to carefully look for any other changes from his expectations. To his chagrin, there were still more. The rising smoke wasn’t acrid black. Instead, it shifted every color of the rainbow and smelled of mesquite wood chips.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

The logs are made from concentrating tainted mana in a form that your mind can handle. This whole place is a metaphor. A reflection of your will and body.

If they are so tainted then why am I burning them? Wouldn’t that poison me or something? At this thought, he scooted away quickly from the smoke plume subconsciously.

On the contrary, cleansing the taint is part of your nature. Do you remember when you decided to become Flame incarnate? What were your thoughts at the time?

I was thinking that I had nothing to lose and that hundreds of children were being hurt out there somewhere. I couldn’t do anything! He turned sharply to face the strange being that had taken so much interest in him. Their head was tilted in question, so he elaborated. I saw those kids today! He was shouting his thoughts at the entity now. Did you expect me to do nothing when I know they are just outside the walls of void and shadow?

The sentinel smiled, at least he thought it was a smile. On the contrary, your passion to protect the innocent has been one of your defining features your whole life. I looked through your memories when I remade your flesh container. I saw a boy that despite being abused daily by a man so vile. You didn’t turn bitter. Angry and taciturn maybe, but not bitter. Whenever there was a bully you waited until he was alone and made him stop. Whenever a girl or woman was running from a broken home, you directed them to a battered women’s shelter.

What good is it that I wasn’t able to make their abusers stop? I just let someone else squirrel them away for a while! That doesn’t solve anything! He started pacing back and forth in front of the fire irritably.

You berate yourself for not doing more. That is the quality of a righteous man, not some hero out of a storybook. If you had taken matters into your own hands and killed their abusers, you would not have saved them. You know they would have just looked for another one, just like them. They had to save themselves.

The entity waved its hand. Let’s get back on topic, please. Why did you choose to become Fire?

It was hard, but he slowly unclenched his muscles and took a deep breath. Could I have become something else? He stopped pacing and turned back jerkily to face the entity again, a sinking feeling was in the pit of his stomach.

Of course, you could have become anything, you chose Fire. Not the Fire of Destruction or the Fire of Illumination, you chose that. The entity pointed towards the pit in a sweeping gesture. The Fire that warms a home. Most people’s Soulscape reflects their passion or ambition. This is your passion. Now tell me why.

Jack was speechless. Why did I choose this? He sagged into his chair and thought for a long time. An ever-shifting series of impressions and half-formed thoughts flowed through his mind. His head was becoming hazy and he still didn’t feel like he had made any progress. So he sluggishly leaned closer to the Fire to bask in its cheery red glow. Proximity to the pit had an instant and overwhelming effect. His half-formed ideas merged like pieces of a puzzle clicking together. Now he knew that down on that overgrown sidewalk, he had made a pivotal choice. The voices had asked him for warmth. So he became that warmth. Good thing too, If they had asked for anything else, that would have been awkward.

He turned back towards the Sentinel. How do I share my hearth? He asked.

The entity nodded, seeming to be very pleased, even though he hadn’t even answered the question. I will show you how to use your power under one condition. It held up one ethereal finger. Swear yourself to me, your master. Swear that you will do everything in your power to act as my Adjudicator. This will not conflict with you answering your call as a Champion. They held out a hand with the intent to shake.

Jack came over and knelt surreptitiously. His good old American upbringing screaming at him to bend his knee to no one but God and liberty. “ I… Jack Hearth, hereby swear to revere you as my teacher and mentor and to act as your hand in this world.” Ugh, that sounded so pretentious. Should I try again?

The sentinel laughed heartily at his cringing reaction to his own words. It sounded like the soft ringing of bells. Yes, it was a bit pretentious. As it heartily wiped a... tear? It was a crystal with a runic inscription inside of it. With a brief flick of a wrist, the crystal sailed through the darkness and landed with a splash. That doesn’t matter though, because you spoke from the heart and yours, while singed, is also good. Just know this, one day you will be whole despite your harms. Now, shall we begin? They didn’t wait for him to respond and kept talking. Here’s what you need to know first.