Godrick felt the intense burning pain as he connected with the elemental’s soul. It was as if the burning slag of a mountain had slapped him. And with him being but a wisp of flame in this world, he drowned within the torrent of the Elemental.

He was forced to stabilize the connection by limiting the passing of energy from one person to the other. Another connection was felt and shared with the woman. It was weak compared even to his own, yet somehow she was moving about energetically in this strange space.

Her soul was no more than the embers of a flame. Frightened that it might give out at any moment he cast the miracle of soul-soothing on it, healing it to the size of a child.

The avatar's soul growing restless now, not meant to inhabit a shell. Its movements were draining power from the priest at a rate that worried him.

Godrick connected with Mrs. Price allowing his purpose to be felt.

“Im not joining together with that thing, you raveningly mad heretic!”. She screamed at him, her mind a hellscape of a world of fire. Kicking him out of her mind and preventing him from seeing anymore.

He felt embarrassed by her tone, yet he understood the limits her sanity was edging on. The priest pressed on, nudging the connection with the knowledge that they shared. Little by little she opened up to him, as she realized that her connection with him was soothing her frayed mind.

After regaining a modicum of sanity, her mind's voice transferred to him “This damn thing ain’ no demon eh?” she asked as her connection stabilized.

“No, it is not, thank the gods for that, and furthermore Madam…” She cut him off almost as soon as he said the word, madam.

“Alana, my name's Alana. Don't you missus or Madam me, I'm a god's damned warrior!” She exclaimed heatedly, increasing the size of her spirit, to the same as his own flame.

“Very well then,” He held a non-existent tongue at her before a little bit of rebelliousness rising from within, “Mrs. Price.” A small puff of imaginary air escaped, emulating what would most likely be assent to his words.

She looked at the flame in front of her with slight anger but let it be “So how do I make this…” the word escaped her grasp, her sanity returning albeit slowly.

“Connection? I don't know how to work all this magical patooey like ya Heretic, just 'cause ya shared it ain’ mean I understand.”

“It is not magic my ‘lady’, divine, and celestial miracle casting is a privilege given to us by the gods and their aspects.” He said with mock indignation.

His false bravado was felt, along with his intentional slight. Calling her a “lady” was of course true but not to her liking. She allowed it as there were more important things to handle now that she was calmer. “Whatever, floats your boat mate.” Dismissal rang through her tone.

“But that ain’ important, it's how am I getting that?” She said pointing at the rampaging elemental. “Out of me.” A large and violent shaking rang through the fabric of the space occupied. The elemental's roar, translating into spatial quakes the spiritual world they inhabited rumble at its loudness.

"You already know, it is all internal. More than just the now that you see around you." Mystery wrapped his hallowed-sounding voice as the intention of pointing around him spread to her. She felt him as he directed her attention with both his hands spread out to the miraculous world they were inhabiting.

"Right now you have to accept it wholly. As a living being, you must allow yourself to become one with it, as I am doing with you." Godrick did not speak these words, instead intensifying the bond they shared so that it was revealed to her.

Understanding reverberated through her flames --this creature was as alive as her. But looking upon it, no matter how hard she tried; only demonic images would appear to her. Determination was not a quality she was lacking, however.

Channeling her spirit through their bond, the priest's memories guided her as she took hold of it. Managing to convey her feelings to the Elemental. A flood of power poured through the connection that linked all three of them.

"Gasp" She jerked from the streams running through the link.

"Hehe, I’ve taken a knack for it, eh? Heretic." She voiced through their communion, attitude smug, but she was in command.

The priest ignored her smugness, driving them closer to the being and taking on its anger unitedly. When it roared shakes would devastates the space of the miracle. The flames demonstrate its plane of origin, burning their souls with an ardent desire for ash.

Godrick shouldered the majority of the energies being transferred, so as not to overwhelm the recently healed woman. Noticing that the priest would not last long she focused, mentally shouting at it, "Okay, listen up, ya damned demon or spirit, or glowing fucking lantern. Whatever the fuck you are, calm the fuck down already!"

The Elemental seemed to respond to her words, and its outrage began to subside. Relieved at this, Godrick continued to channel his divine power normalizing their connections. After he was done with the excessiveness of his task, he felt drained of all his strength.

Its movements ceased to acknowledge the two spirits; they were the size of ants to it. It was unable to comprehend where its anger could flow to so It approached them, curious within this surreal world of the miracle. It spoke to them in perfect Aquilan the descended tongue of the Saloheem, the tongue of the common people.

“I am a Primal unto thee, thou impish waif, and mine name remains unpronounceable in thee's primitive language. But thou; thou will call mine self, Lord of the 1,117th Flame of Primal’s.”

Both the foul-mouthed housewife and the priest were stunned. They had not expected the creature to communicate in anything but an animalistic fashion. Yet it had spoken the Common language as if it had always known it. The sound of its voice was so noble and commanding, one would expect it to belong to a noble from the capital.

It sounded heroic, wise, and ancient.

The feisty spirit of Alana could not be contained from dispensing her wrath though. Red surges exuded from her, madness became her, and a sworn intent of violence emerged. The intent was harmless, as none could harm the physical in this world. Her style of attack was chosen wisely, through the multiple forms of mockery and disdain.

“Eh, I’ll call you Flame Lord, that fine with you, Flo?”

The Primal maintained direct contact with the housewife, entranced by her approach. Unwittingly setting her up for more verbal abuse.

“Is it Flame Lord or Flo? Choose one, human.” Its alien mind prevented it from fully understanding the concept of mockery or ridicule.

“I could just say Flord too,” she mocked with a smirk, somehow portraying a facial expression despite her noncorporeal form.

“Enough, human! Thou will not insult mine title and name as Lord of the 1,117th Flame of Primal’s,” It roared offended by the housewife. Finally understanding these foreign mortal concepts.

“Better than being baked alive in my own skin 'cause I got a primal dumbass perving on me." She roared back, obscenities flowing out of her noncorporeal mouth like a sailor.

“I am no pervert foul wench. Thou already understandest that mine kind reproduces in no way unto how thee mammals must; bearing children and such. Uncouth, if I may say so of thee,” The spirit replied with indignation written in its tone.

“You turned my fucking eyes into charcoal, you...”

What followed next was a verbal assault that would be written by historians and comedians alike as legendary and uproarious. In the entire history of the Primals, none had ever received a dress down as harshly as the 1,117th flame. She had endured weeks of torture inside her body. Too afraid of the unknown creature that cohabitated with her, a venting of her woes was necessary.

With the knowledge of the creature and the support of Godrick’s spirit from the communion, fear no longer touched her. She recognized that it only wanted an escape. Its thoughts were too strange and alien compared to normal human thinking. Not understanding its actions as harmful.

After calming down the spritely and foul-mouthed housewife. Godrick was ready to wash his hands of the whole ordeal.

“Very well, listen up because there is not much time. I’m running low on divine power at the moment, and every second counts.” With constraints on his energy, he needed both the primal and the feisty spirit focused. His stores of divine magic would more than likely not last a casting on the outside.

“Hmmph,” The Primal harumphed as a wave of magical energy bounced off of it and into Godrick, then back to it.

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“Thy mana does seem awfully meager at this point." Having finished its probe of him, it proceeded to repeat the same process. But whatever it had done before, instead of returning to the primal. The energies remained within him, slightly revitalizing the flame that he was.

“If there wasn’t so much defilement from this divine... --stuff." It said hesitantly unwilling to share it's memories of long ago.

"Thou couldst hold more of thy mana in thine small vessel, from thy poor excuse of a core.” It spoke snobbishly as if it was chiding a childer for allowing itself to get dirty.

“What is mana, what is a vessel, a core, and for that too, what are you?” Godrick asked with intensity. Through all his life he had dreamt of meeting and studying spiritual beings beyond Angels and Demon. Now one spoke to him direct, as if he were an equal to such a thing.

"I have heard of stories and read texts on creatures such as thee. But never have I held the opportunity to gaze and examine a being such as yourself.” A glint of curiosity was on the young priest’s flames, a hunger for knowledge unleashed.

The desire went further still. Wishing to conduct all manner of research on its strange physiology. A being likely comprised of heretical energies, yet wholly of nature. Any information that this ancient being contained, would be invaluable as a treasure trove of knowledge.

The Primal felt the insatiable curiosity of the small wisp and knew that the spirit was in pursuit of more than its nature currently held. Its own nature as a Primal elemental of fire had been stoked.

“What thou asketh is not of thy plane, yet it pervades so heavily upon thy world that thyself now wonders.” The primal scoured through its memories, which much like mortals remained clouded by its emotions.

It had felt the desire to feed upon Mana, and so it had traveled as all elementals do upon the kindling of their first spark. It had birthed itself into existence through our world and so it would eternally be one with it as well.

After what could have been, one year, to a thousand, it had arrived in Aerden. The rise of the Mana tides in the Mortal Realm was a feast to its palate. Such abundant energies drove it into a frenzy, in which it slit open space, allowing its trespass into the mortal realm.

Having comprehended his attraction to this plane he spoke in a cryptic manner. “There is much change that is to come upon thou world young Priest, and dear sister Flame o’ mine.” Its tone had changed, and with it, the intensity of its flames. Before they had been scorching the surroundings in a light of blue and white. Now, the flames showered the room in the soothing warmth of yellow and orange.

“Both of thee have taken thy time to help thyself escape from the decisions of thy nature. Thee have allowed an understanding of thyself.” Mirth escaped from everyone at this statement. As they all shared different views of the world. Spirit, man, and woman; all joined by the strength of communion.

“What thou asketh, thy will grant to thee, in hopes that it alloweth thou's success in the coming tides.” It decided to impart a secret so profound that the structure of the miracles itself fractured for all of but a moment. No one seemed to notice the laugh that had instantly rung along with the fracture, unheard by all.

On the outside world, the summer storm that had draped itself across the farm had expanded. It now encompassed the entirety of the Empire of the Aquila. Wild strikes of lightning and heavy rain reigned this night.

Many notables of the Empire took a hint of this as an Omen of change. Some smiled with savagery, and others were filled with an ill-dreaded fear. Outside of the Empire, others felt the same signs; and again many smiled while others dreaded.

These storms all originated from a singular point. Yet, none of these hidden beings of great power could locate it with precision. None would know that three creatures of infinitely less importance than them had caused all of this. The only one who knew what had happened was currently at the epicenter of this storm.

As beings of pure mana given form through nature, the Primal’s ego had forced it to act. A being of fire was fierceness personified, straightforward and honest. They would not, could not, and did not lie.

Bound by its words, it took two pieces out of itself with magic, it weaved them into a matter-like essence. Another Magic was cast and the essence flew, mixing with the two flames that were candles to itself.

The Primal looked around itself noticing that something had occurred, it shook its head in worry and said. “What I have ceded to you can never be returned, for what I have given unto thee is a pure principle of creation.” The essence had begun to take hold of both spirits Godrick and Alana had felt their very beings pervaded.

“This knowledge gifted to thee is dangerous, it is also natural and of helpful design. But know that once learned it will never be unlearned.” Alana’s spirit cried out with a bestial roar of fire. Lines of thinking and patterns that had remained untouched now flared. Her mind rebelled against the onslaught of information spreading through her mind.

Godrick’s vessel expanded upon itself and then fell upon his core. The expansion had brought him unease, as he faux-puked through his spiritual body. What these changes would bring they did not know.

But a clarity that had not been present, had emerged in both their thoughts and acuity.

“What Mana is, can be, and shall be, will flow through thee in words and bodies; so long as thou can learn to wield it.” The two spirits grew minutely as they began to unconsciously collect the energy they now knew as Mana around them.

“But know this, the knowledge I have given unto thee was forcefully suppressed upon thy flesh. Why? 'Tis for thee to uncover. But a premonition of warning for thee. There are beings in thy world not wanting Mortals to succeed them.” A sinister chill rose with his statement.

As those final words were sent, the Primal's thoughts projected unto them both, leaving them in a deep state of shock.

What they had learned had changed them on a fundamental level. They knew that his words were true, as they felt it from the very bottom of their being --they could never be the same again.

The miracle broke, and Godrick's mind felt like a massive puzzle had been placed in front of it. The puzzle itself? The universe.

A crystalline breaking sound rang out inside the chambers of the peasant. Father Godrick's spell was canceled, and Mr. Price was knocked back into the wall by the resulting force. The peasant recovered from the blow, throwing a quick glance at the panting priest whose sweat ran down him hands-on-knees looking at Alana.

The peasant attention then shifted back to his wife. She was now calm despite her skin being completely blackened, yet unbroken. Sounds of harsh but light breathing were heard from her.

Her labored breathing was heard as she weakly called out, "Next. step..." Father Godrick was already casting.

He cast ‘Balm of Heaven’ to stop the burning of her skin. Once cast the burning sensation alleviated to a point where she could continue speaking.

"Next," and he cast ‘Mortals cure’ on her skin. This began a scarring process that marred her visage, yet allowed her to regain the strength to survive the next casting.

"Finish," she struggled to croak the last word out "it." Godrick cast the final spell, he spoke not in the Saloheem no. The arcane energies coalesced as he spoke a language not of the Gods but of the principles of the esoteric. The language of the Primect, the first verses.

It was hardly a spell by any standards he had seen. The miracles he had worked with up to that point were excellent examples of magic cast throught the faith of divine power. A highly organized and structured piece of sophisticated divine magic, Miracles.

They used the combined mana, and divine essence of a person. Combined they would become divine power, this would in turn occupy space in the vessel, in a highly advanced and efficient manner. It was utilized through the ancient scripture texts written in the Saloheem. The two languages he now knew as universally connected to reality.

Through the application of mana being converted into magic or divine power from the gods soaking into the bodies of their followers. One could create actual affectation to the world around them.

In comparison, the magic Godrick was casting could not be considered a spell. It required an inefficient use of his power. Was unorganized in structure, and his usage of the Primect language was the equivalent of a slurring child according to the Primal.

At best, Godrick would call it a proto-spell. But it was exactly what he needed for this situation. He had, just enough mana to complete the magic before both the Primal spirit and the lovely Alana ended up killing each other.

Completing the final cast, the magic enveloped everyone within the room. Brilliant lights of red, blue, green, brown, and yellow. Fire from the flames around them, the dirt from the earth, water from the bodies of all the humans in the room as well as the basin on the stand. Finally wind came bursting through the windows of the chamber, oxygen and movements of the people's bodies.

All the elements required for the magic gathered and floated in the air. With a mixed hand gesture, they jumped into the body of Alana, somehow phasing through inside her. Spasms enveloped her once more until she centered to a stop.

She stood on the bed, going limp, yet levitating in the air as the gathered elements had. Her skin had peeled off, revealing pinker and newer tissue underneath the scarring covering her body. Her hair, particularly, did not burn and remained a wavy red. As she opened her eyes, glinting irises of blue could be seen, and her sclerae retained a mineral coal-like shine and color.

Despite the scarring, she was still significantly attractive in all aspects, a blessing to her future hopefully. Godrick thanked Hadrian for this, but with the type of man Mr. Price seemed to be, he doubted he would appreciate it.

After all the skin had peeled off her body, she slumped to the bed on her knees, and out of her mouth came a red glowing gem. It threw a mental link at him, thanking him in the strange alien mind of the Primals, vanishing from view. It was completely gone from this world.

After succeeding in his task, Father Godrick allowed himself to feel a brief moment of happiness. He had saved the life of a Sister of the faiths, met a wondrous being of legends and folktales, and unlocked knowledge that shook the core of his beliefs.

Yet before he could fully digest everything that had happened, his oath came to mind. As a priest and exorcist of the Church of Hadrian, the god of light and Inquisition, he was bound by strict rules.

He could use no magic except the miracles of Hadrian, considered the power of the light itself. He was to protect the flock of their god and submit to no one but the light of God. He was to smite all the evils of magic, all in the name of their God, Hadrian of the Light.

Godrick had thought himself a follower of the Church of En’Wuin, a group known for their acceptance of magic to a certain extent. His true allegiance lay with the Church of Hadrian however.

And as an exorcist, he was tasked with fighting against dark magic and those who wielded it. He now found himself in a dangerous position, unable to even peer into himself and his inner palace.

He knew that what he had just done went against his oath, he could feel the weight of his actions bearing down on him. He wondered if he had gone too far. If he had strayed too much from the Path that he had chosen. This internal conflict was double, and he could feel the oath to his god fading.

He had done what was necessary yet he had been labeled an Oathbreaker immediately. He had used his magic to save a life, to prevent a tragedy. Going not against his beliefs but the church's, but he had done it for the greater good.

The consequences be damned, he thought to himself. Though weakened Alana was being helped to stand by her husband. She threw a smirk filled with mirth as she smiled at him with her slightly scarred face and her new onyx and crystal blue eyes.

“Ya did it ‘eretic, thank ya.” A small tear escaped her right eye as her raspy voice croaked along.

Godrick took a deep breath and steadied himself. He knew that he had a lot to think about deciding whether or not to reconcile his actions with his faith. He would have to speak to his superiors and seek guidance. But for now, he had to focus on the present and deal with the aftermath of his magic.

He looked around the room, taking in the sight of the woman who had just been saved. Despite the scarring on her body, she was still beautiful. He felt a sense of relief wash over him as he realized that his magic had worked. He had saved a life, and that was all that mattered.