The woods surrounding Ascot Village were, to put it mildly, in a bit of a state. The unnatural drought had forced all the trees, bushes, and shrubs to shed their leaves, which now covered the forest floor in a brown, crunchy carpet. The whole region was like a collection of massive matchsticks just waiting for a spark to set them ablaze. It was both the best and worst environment a master of fire magic could find themselves in. Though, as the so-called Sage of the Sands walked the barren land, she couldn’t help but feel that something was amiss. This didn’t seem like the sort of scenery that would surround a red dragon’s lair. Yes, the forest was dry and hot, but it was also decaying a lot quicker than she might expect. Surely the wilderness would be resilient enough to last at least two or three months without water, yet she stumbled upon a lot of trees that had fallen over due to rot. That didn’t seem right.

Then again, botany wasn’t her area of expertise. Neither were dragons, for that matter. She had plenty of hands-on experience dealing with them, especially the red ones, but very little knowledge about the species as a whole. Hunting habits, migratory patterns, dietary constraints, mating rituals - such things were beyond her. One would think she should’ve studied up on the creatures more considering she bumped into them so often, and it was certainly on her to-do list. However, it was so far down on her priorities that she never got around to it. Dragons were but one of the countless dangers and disturbances someone like her would face in her line of work. If she had time to read about the blasted lizards, she’d rather spend it honing her body, mind, and spirit so she could draw out more of her inner fire and manifest ever more potent spells. She was a firm believer in the idea that raw power was all that ultimately mattered when it came to violent confrontations.

That was why she was at such a loss as to what the hell was going on with this stupid forest. At least she had someone close at hand that could potentially fill in some gaps. In theory, at least. In practice, she silently doubted that this Tom fellow knew how to tie his own shoes, let alone the ins and outs of draconic taint poisoning the environment. However, he’d lived here all his life by the look of things. Compared to someone who grew up in a desert and hadn’t even seen a tree until a few years ago, he probably had some more insight into the situation than the sorceress gave him credit for. So, she decided to get over her pride and prejudice and just ask.

“Question.”

That one word caught the bumbling ruffian by surprise, making him jump a little in place. He’d been leading the scary wizard lady around these woods for about two hours now, and she hadn’t said a peep ever since she demanded that he did so. He didn’t even know what they were looking for beyond any notably large caves or clearings. He’d shown her a few, but she seemed dissatisfied with them. Or at least that was the impression he got. It really was hard to understand what sort of mood she was in when all he could see of her face was a single eye. On the upside, she hadn’t gotten violent, or even threatened him. In fact, he wasn’t even sure if she did indeed make demands of him back at the village. Her words were so curt and quiet that they might as well have been an awkward request, though Tom wasn’t about to take his chances.

“Y-yeah?”

That was also why he dared not pretend he didn’t hear her.

“Is this normal?” she pointed at a half-rotted log.

“Uh… That a trick question?”

Obviously it wasn’t. In fact, it was her that said that terrifying creature she exploded earlier was causing this whole mess. The woman then realized she failed to convey her issue accurately since her guide didn’t know her thoughts, so she took a few moments to rephrase her request.

“Would drought do this?”

“Oh, that’s what you meant. I guess it’s a bit weird now that you mention it.”

“Explain.”

“Well, me and the boys, we do lumberjack work now and then. Few years back the summer got pretty dry and hot. Nowhere this bad, but still wound up with some dead trees. Barry - he’s the ranger around these parts - said we need to cut ‘em down so new ones can grow. Thing is, none of ‘em were rotted like that one. They were super hard, and every time we cut into ‘em they sent splinters everywhere. Felt more like breaking rocks than chopping trees.”

In short, her hunch was most likely accurate, and there was more to this situation than a random red dragon making a nest. She paused for a moment to ponder this new information and thought back to the old bridge where she first encountered Tom. She asked the guy some questions about it and confirmed there used to be a creek under there that had dried up in recent weeks. Certainly fit in with the drought scenario, but the sage had a hunch it wasn’t just excessive heat that caused the water to stop flowing. So, she asked the man to guide her to whatever lake or pond that stream originated from. This greatly relieved Tom for two reasons. One, he was finally given a clear destination, and two, he knew exactly where it was. However, there was one significant issue with the request.

“Yeah, we, uh… we probably shouldn’t get near it. That’s where King Claw lives.”

The sage raised her eyebrow quizzically.

“Who?”

“The strongest, meanest mountain lion you’ll ever see. They say he’s as big as a house, and eats bears for breakfast!”

The woman was unperturbed. Such claims were exaggerations and hearsay. Such a magical beast would surely have a standing bounty on it, which means the sage would’ve definitely heard about it. Hunting such dangerous game was one of the main methods she used to push and challenge herself in her pursuit of power. In all likelihood this ‘King Claw’ was indeed a ferocious predator, but little more than a big frog at the bottom of a well. It would find out very quickly how vast the world was if it was stupid enough to stand in her way.

“I will handle it.”

“Y’know, fair enough.”

Tom would question her confidence if he hadn’t already seen her vaporize a bloody dragon. Still, he wouldn’t want to get caught up in something if he could avoid it.

“Just to be sure though, in case we actually run into King Claw, and he gets nasty… do you mind if I just run for it?”

“No.”

“… No, you don’t mind, or no, don’t do that?”

“The first.”

“Okay. Just wanted to make sure, y’know. I don’t mean nothing by it, but it’s hard to tell what you’re saying sometimes.”

She frowned under her face-wrap. She was well aware of her repeated failures to communicate even without this slack-jawed bandit reminding her. No, perhaps that was too harsh. Tom was an oaf, but like his uncle said, he didn’t seem like a bad person. After all, he eagerly agreed to show her around these woods even though she kneed him in the stones when they last met. Unless… he was into that? No, that was also too far. The adventurer kept this mental back-and-forth going for a while, inwardly insulting the guy then silently reprimanding herself to not think poorly of the man whose help she was relying on.

*CRACK*

The mental loop was interrupted when she sensed something moving through the desolate forest, snapping branches and twigs under its immense girth. She drew a staff from her back-mounted sling and turned to face the disturbance, only to find that Tom’s earlier exaggerations were steeped in truth after all. Making its way through the dried and rotting forest was a massive feline beast with an eye-catching orange pelt. It was easily as big as a horse bred for war, perhaps even larger. ‘King Claw’ definitely seemed an appropriate nickname for it, though neither its size nor its claws were its most defining feature. It sported a pair of dagger-like fangs that jutted out from its upper jaw and draped over its fuzzy chin, its mouth nowhere large enough to accommodate them. That alone identified it not as a simple mountain lion, but a magical beast commonly known as a ‘saber-tooth.’ It would’ve been a majestic and intimidating sight, if not for two obvious issues with the creature. It was clearly malnourished, and it sported a nasty, festering wound to the left side of its face that rendered one of its eyes completely unusable.

However, despite being plagued by issues that would have crippled or killed any lesser beast, King Claw still carried himself with the poise and grace one would expect from the ruler of these woods. He let out a low growl and bared the rest of his fangs as he squared off against the wizard fifteen paces in front. This display left Tom utterly speechless, as the man fell on his ass and awkwardly crawled backwards in fear of being eaten. However, that wasn’t the impression the adventurer got from it. Beasts like this were naturally drawn to those born with magic in their blood, and hers was more potent than most. These encounters happened with frightening frequency, and generally played out in one of three ways. The creature would either immediately flee, attack the sorceress on sight, or square off against her before choosing to do either. In the third case, which this seemed to be, the monster was wary of a potential intruder or challenger to its territory, and wasn’t particularly looking for a fight. Indeed, this saber-tooth likely had much bigger issues on its mind.

Stolen novel; please report.

The sage calmly considered her options and deemed that the best way to resolve this was to try and communicate she wasn’t looking to throw down either. An oversized mountain lion was one thing, but a beast like this would demand far too much of her energy to take down. She only had two, maybe three big spells left in her, and she didn’t want to waste them on some fleabag that was only tangentially related to her actual mission. She might come back and hunt it down for sport later, but for the moment she slowly put down her staff, tucked her hands into her sleeves, and bowed towards it. Magical beasts were significantly more intelligent than their mundane counterparts, which allowed them a degree of insight into a person’s actions and intentions. In this case, the yellow-garbed human was offering a sincere greeting as a way of saying she was merely passing through. At the same time, the beast smelled not even the tiniest bit of fear from her, unlike the whimpering male she was with. It interpreted that as confidence she would win should things turn violent.

The saber-tooth let out another low growl, then lowered its front body and head in a bow of its own to convey that the wordless message had been received loud and clear. It stood back up and dashed off, disappearing into the dying forest with speed and agility that belied its massive body. The wizard let out a sigh of relief and put her drawn staff back in its place. She turned to Tom, who was still on his butt. His face had transitioned from terror to awe, his wide eyes flickering between the sage and the spot where King Claw had been moments ago. The woman crossed her arms and looked down at him with a tilt in her head. This was why she avoided working with civilians as much as possible. One slightly exciting thing happens and all of a sudden they’re struck speechless and immobile.

“That… was… amazing!”

The man recovered a few heartbeats later, rising to his feet with a loud cheer.

“What the hell did you do?! Some secret spell or something?! Or did it just realize it wasn’t a match so it ran?!”

Rather than attempt to correct his wildly erroneous assumptions, the sorceress merely jerked her head in the direction they were previously headed.

“Lake. Go.”

She also threw in some stern words to punctuate her point, which was adequately conveyed.

“Right! Right, sorry.”

Tom tried to get his excitement under control as he was reminded he still had a job to do.

“Still another hour or two to go before we reach the lake,” he said while they walked. “It was a little weird that King Claw was all the way out here, but if he leaves us alone we should make it there and back to the village before nightfall. Actually, come to think of it, he looked a bit rough around the edges. I’m pretty sure the rumors didn’t say anything about him having so much pus on his face, otherwise he wouldn’t have such a cool nickname. Know what I mean?”

She did, yes. If she had to make a guess, she’d say it was evident that the local apex had been dethroned recently, though not by a red dragon. Neither its claws nor its fiery breath would’ve caused a lingering infection that bad. There were too many unknowns to determine what sort of creature was responsible, but she had some suspicions. Wouldn’t be long before she found out, regardless. Hopefully getting rid of the usurper and allowing King Claw to reclaim his place at the top of the local food chain would see the wilderness return to normal before long. She’d probably have to give up on using the saber-tooth as ‘research material’ for her spells. Not all magical beasts were menaces and threats. Some acted more like guardians that tried their best to preserve the natural order of their environment, and the dethroned feline was likely one of these. It was fearsome enough to warrant a bounty, yet didn’t have one, which implied it didn’t have a habit of randomly attacking people.

It was late afternoon by the time Tom and the sage drew near their destination. The heat was at its peak, but made all the worse by the rapidly growing humidity in the air. The sorceress was fine since she thrived on such extreme temperatures, but her guide was gradually succumbing to exhaustion and dehydration. In fact, he was suffering a lot worse than he should have. Tom was a clumsy idiot, but he was a hardy fellow. The way he was wheezing and sweating like crazy as the pair approached the lake informed the adventurer that something unnatural was sapping his strength. The man also recognized he was far more winded than he should be. At first he tried to act tough, but soon remembered the scary wizard lady had already seen his pathetic side, so he gave up on that and took a seat on a nearby boulder.

“I’ll… I’ll just… be a minute…” he breathed heavily. “Fuckin’ hell… What is that smell, anyway?”

“… Smell?”

“Yeah. It’s kinda like… rotten eggs. You don’t feel that?”

Something finally clicked in the adventurer’s head. She wiped the fabric covering her mouth and nose with the back of her bandaged hand to find a faint brown-ish residue had been caught in the cloth before it could enter her lungs. It was fortunate her traditional garb was made to filter out harmful particles found in smoke and sandstorms, otherwise she’d probably be wheezing as hard as her guide. Deciding to help the man, she grabbed two things from her quietly rattling luggage - her napkin and a sewing kit. She deftly threw together a simple mask and pulled it over the confused fellow’s face. Tom was too preoccupied with the burning sensation in his throat to notice her doing all this, so the sudden act shocked him quite a bit. He looked up at the sage with a look of confusion, but she placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder and used the other to motion for him to breathe deep. The ruffian did so and found that both the nasty smell and his light-headedness suddenly disappeared.

“Oh, that did the trick! I feel a lot better now. Thanks, lady!”

Though he said that, he’d inhaled too much of the subtle toxin to go anywhere for a while. That was fine, though. Now that she was this close to the source of the environmental disturbance, the wizard could easily find the place on her own. She also didn’t want this guy getting in the way should things turn violent when she finally got there, so she made the executive decision to let him rest and venture forth on her own. That said, there was one job she still had for him. She took the heavy, bulging bag off her shoulder and placed it by the man’s feet.

“Wait here. Guard this.”

It just wasn’t a good idea to bring all that stuff with her when she was expecting a fight. She also trusted him to not be stupid enough to try and rob her twice.

“Uh, okay? For how long?”

“One hour.”

“And… if you’re not back by then?”

“Go home.”

“Oh…”

Tom still had no idea what was going on. His uncle told him during their brief argument that the adventurer claimed she had finished her work by taking out the dragon. As such, he couldn’t fathom why she had him bring her all the way out here into the wilderness, and was equally ignorant as to what she hoped to find or achieve in King Claw’s lair. The only thing he was clear on was that she expected to face danger. The realization that he might be seeing the last of her filled him with an odd sense of dread. By the time he thought to actually express his foreboding feelings, the woman had already gone. She took confident strides up the hilly terrain, guided by a subtle itch on the back of her neck that gradually grew stronger as she climbed. That mildly unpleasant sensation was her body’s way of informing her of the presence of powerful magic that was not her own. Given all that she’d seen and learned of the area so far, the sage had a pretty good hunch as to where it was coming from. Those suspicions were confirmed a few minutes later when she finally found the source of the dried-up creek.

What had once been a large and tranquil pond had been reduced to a stagnant, foul-smelling bog. The water looked so murky it might as well have been sewage, and its level had dropped far below the muddy basin’s lip. Several rotting carcasses and countless detached bones were strewn about, no doubt contributing to the pollution that tainted this place. Most of the remains were concentrated around a small island that stood in the middle of the bog. That central location instantly grabbed the sage’s attention, for it was also home to a sight most telling. An ancient oak as thick as a house sprouted from that pile of mud, its countless bare branches sprawling out to loom ominously over what little water remained. Seeing that left no doubt in the sage’s mind.

This spring was a source of not only water, but also magic. The wild, untamed kind. Such places of power were relatively rare and were always contested by all manner of fierce beasts. The saber-tooth she encountered likely held dominion over it for many decades, and the rather sudden and drastic shift in environment was indicative that something had dethroned it. Definitely not a red dragon, though. They were creatures of flame and fury, and any font of magic they made their lair in would reflect their disposition. In other words, if that spicy lizard was the one to dethrone King Claw, then this place would be closer to a volcano or a desert than a bog. It might have actually been that scaly bastard’s home until he was kicked out in the past several days. That would somewhat explain why it was all the way down at the village, and why the drought gripping the forest was slowly giving way to decay.

In short, the adventurer had indeed accomplished her mission. She had eliminated the source of the farmers’ woes. Admittedly, they would soon have a whole new slew of problems to deal with, but that was none of her concern. Some might consider her decision to turn around and pretend she didn’t see anything amiss to be heartless, or perhaps cowardly. However, every wizard was a specialist in their field. The Sage of the Sands had taken this job to deal with a supernatural heat wave and some disappearing livestock, but this wave of disease was beyond her capacity to adequately handle. She had no idea what sort of creature would cause this kind of taint, nor would she know how to treat it should she remove it. Simply killing it might actually cause more problems than it solved. A fire mage simply wasn’t qualified to handle this, so she wanted to leave this matter in more capable hands.

That was what the rational side of her mind said, but the thought of tackling some unknown monster in order to test herself was far more appealing. Between all the walking, the pathetic mugging attempt, the annoying encounter with the dragon, and having to pass on a tussle with a saber-tooth, the woman was practically burning for a real challenge. It was a reckless and risky desire that she wholeheartedly embraced. As her old mentor often said, ‘a sheltered flame would never grow.’ Plunging headfirst into the dangerous unknown was why she took up this line of work to begin with. Any coin earned or lives improved were entirely secondary, albeit welcome benefits. It was an attitude that would likely lead her to a gruesome and early end, but that thought didn’t bother her. She dreaded the idea of being a candle - stable, slow-burning, and insignificant. No, she much preferred a life akin to an explosion - brief, yet blindingly brilliant.

And so, the inferno that walked like a woman drew one of her staves and took another step in her never-ending search of prey worthy of kindling her inner fire.