From the void a spark sprung forth, growing unto a gentle tongue of flames. Unrelenting the arcane energies broiled, threatening to scorch all about. An iron clad will descended upon unruly energies, in futility the fires lashed back before submitting to its creator. Subservient, the arcane energies rolled forth methodically, burning conduits within blood and flesh. Seconds turned into minutes as the surge linked to smaller conduits, reinforcing the old channels, twisting their nature where needs be. In time the unnatural energy seared through skin, tasting the morning dew.

A thirty feet cone of fire burst forth from Kain’s outstretched arm, blackening the stone roof beneath. Spring breeze sweep the aftermath, and again Kain coerced the raw arcane flames through the set conduits. Sapping but an infinitesimal amount of his vast vitality the arcane energies raced through the circuits, and given purpose the flame cone leapt into life with a primal rumble.

“Congratulation, you’re a Journeyman Pyromancer now” said the older man as he approached Kain. A multitude of scars visible upon his lean frame, his light velvet shirt rolled up at the sleeve as they were.

“Much appreciated Master Grenlor” replied Kain, towering over his mentor. The red hair broke into a smile “Only took eight years”.

“Enough. I do not want to be address as such by the likes of you” said the man, wrinkles deepening with his scowl, “To business”.

Kains shoulders sagged at the coldness, recovering his spirit in short order “To business then. The latest girl we found is most likely your daughter”. The crimson man reached for the cotton towel from over his shoulder, wiping the soot coating his hands “Meet with Hans, he can arrange the meet tomorrow”. A manservant walked up to the pair with a swift gait, relieving Kain of the tainted towel before slinking out of sight. “I am sure we found her this time” finished Kain, cutting the very image of his namesake in the dawn rays.

“Sure you have, after all you no longer have any more need of me” replied the Master Pyromancer, sun-baked skin taut over compact muscles juxtaposing the inane mass of his crimson Apprentice, nay, Journeyman.

“—”. The old gentlemen was upon the stair before Kain could even say another word. I was hoping Raolin would warm up over the years the red hair lamented. With a nod of the chin Kain left the roof, his servant following close behind.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Approaching his master suite the red haired halted, noticing the door slightly ajar. Placing a hand on the carved wood Kain pushed the door silently, poised to pounce at a moment’s notice.

With a long exhale Kain massaged his brow, a vain attempt to soothe his rising ire. “Out” Kain said flatly, locking eyes with the prepubescent girl atop his bed, clearly bare beneath the bed sheets. “Tell Alva that I am not amused” the red hair added.

The half dozen young woman quickly redressed, unsteady hands betraying barely restrained fear. Dishevelled the maidens rushed pass the crimson titan, a monolith besides the threshold. As the last of the chastened left, Kain closed the door. Becoming visible, the handle’s enchantments glowed under his vice grip, sheltering the platinum finish from harm.

“Spoil sport” uttered the child, pouting in a sweet manner.

“Alva, I’m not into children” Kain walked across the room, approaching a raised bowl filled with water he channelled raw arcane fire within the arcanium engravings. Seconds later the water boiled “I swear…” Kain dipped a towel, refreshing from the morning activities.

“Aw” the girl threw herself into the pillows “All that effort to save a new batch” feigning a tear.

“Enough” Kain said flatly, tossing a white silk shirt towards her.

“You boar” the shirt stopped mid-air, hanging inches before her. The petite girl contorted, shifting back to the buxom brunet, pass twelve years unapparent.

“You don’t need that disguise” Kain placed the moist towel aside, “Here, or anywhere else” he added in a softer tone.

Moving swiftly the shirt dressed Alva by its own accord, with all the grace of a trained servant, “And you can let me teach you Sorcery”.

“We’ve been over that before” the crimson man walked towards his desk, immaculately well kept.

“Don’t give me that, I know that you’ve been dabbling in Mind” Alva said, her mood threatening to sour.

“That’s not the same, you know that—”

“Enough of that” she raised her left arm, fingers outspread “Get over here” she said with a purr. And feeling no resistance she clasped her hand, dragging the red hair across the room by arcane means.

Breaking the tethers the instance before he met the bed, “We don’t have time…” Kain said. His will wavered as he gazed upon Alva, What can it hurt, the crimson behemoth placed a knee atop the mattress. Then came a knock at the door.

“Tut” exclaimed the woman, lips but a hair’s breadth from Kain's.

“It’s Hans, you should—”

“Come in” Alva cut him off.

Swinging open the middle age man started “Boss, I’ve met with Master Grenlor, but we have a problem…”, freezing mid step as he caught the couple’s precarious posture. “I can come back later” said Hans as he slowly started to backtrack.

“Don’t be ridiculous” interrupted Alva as she slid back within the pillows, pulling up the duvet for extra modesty. “Come in” she eased into the padded headboard, “So what’s the problem”.