Act I : The Fire Sorceress

~~~

Valindra of the Violet Flame took in her surroundings, her throat constricting tightly as a knot formed in her stomach. The entrance to the cave was decorated with the sharp glints of dangerous icicles, the dark maw of the cave as black as night. She exhaled and closed her amethyst eyes, steeling herself. What she would do was going to decide the fate of the world's future, but at the steep cost of her life - and an innocent's.

        Dragons of varying colours eyed her warily, their own war against the Demorians infiltrating the world slowly pressing down on them, their numbers of Dragon whelps and adults dwindling as low as the mortals that wandered the same world. The same mortals that Valindra herself now represented. Now stood to lose.

        Her raven hair twisted in the chilled gales, the warm fires in her veins crackling against the cold. The same fire that the hellish legions of Llandelwyn so feared, in such a vast quantity that they sought to eradicate all humans - Valindra included - to ensure that no sorcerers of any capacity could ever rise up against them. Not that sorcerers like Valindra showed up often in the world, but she was powerful enough that it set the Demorian armies in a frenzy against all fire-wielders, something that she often felt she was to blame for.

        She pushed through her thoughts and jutted out her chin, repeating the same words that she had been saying to herself in the recent years past.

        "I am Valindra Ravenheart. The Flames bow to me, and I bow to no one." With those words she stalked into the cave, and didn't look back.

~~~

"I swear to the Goddesses, if I ever have that dream again I'll use my own flames and light the fucking realm on fire," I hissed, slowly sitting up to find the sun blinding my eyes. Contrary to the bitter winter in my increasingly recurring dream, it was the middle of the summer out in the fields of Fenrar, golden wheat spreading out in a yellow ocean beyond the horizon. 

        I slowly sat up and winced, pain lancing through my spine as my rigorous training session flooded back to me. I regularly came out here in secret with a crude staff, whacking away at the wheat dummy I had created for myself, which currently stood battered and dull and falling to pieces, it's smile lopsided and vaguely creepy. My calloused hands instinctively reached for the staff, and they slightly twitched as they rubbed against the raw flesh on my palms.

        With a colourful curse I dropped it, my hands now throbbing as though the pain itself had woken up with me from my nap and chose now to strike. "Dark Matron, what I wouldn't give for some salve," I whined to myself, and immediately regretted the words as a low tenor voice rang up and over the hill.

        "I wouldn't be finding you passed out by the wheat fields again, would I Yvanna?" He called out, and my eyes hurt from how hard they rolled to the back of my head. I flopped back down and sighed, my head already beginning to ache. He crested the hill and I heard the visitor exhale in disappointment. Perhaps if I pretended to be asleep, he wouldn't bother me. Perhaps, just this once, he'd leave me alone-

        My hopes were quickly extinguished when he began tapping the temple of my head with his toe, snickering slightly. "When you sleep, your mouth is as wide open as a broken door, and your snore is just as loud."

        My eyes snapped open at that, staring daggers into his own hazel orbs. "I don't snore," I sniped, quickly rising from my place on the grass. "What, are you going to lecture me some more about how I shouldn't be training? Because I'm a woman, Garran?" He frowned at that, hearing the snarl in my voice. Before I could open my mouth again he plopped down beside me, already preparing to recite the words he had told me again and again and again.

        "You know why you can't be out here. It's dangerous, and stupid, and every day we hear those stories of those slaughtered villages, one of them not even a weeks march away from our own." He shook his head, rubbing his tired eyes. "I don't want to see you die, Yvanna. That's not the way I want to see you go. It's... It's a brutal death, there is no mercy."

        "You worry too much about me," I murmured softly, resting my hand on his arm. "I'll be fine." He grunted, and I frowned. Tired, he looked so tired with his back hunched over like that. I took this moment to really take him in, finally assessing him.

        His dirty blonde hair was blackened at the tips, which matched the smudge marks of charcoal that smeared his stubbled jaw, his lips dry and chapped from long hours spent by the heat of the forge, and his long fingers were rough and nails chipped. He looked as though he had been through a day of hard work himself, yet he still took the time to come up here and see me anyways. Despite myself I smiled at the thought of it, which wasn't lost on him.

        "What are you grinning about," he probed, nudging me with his elbow. My lips twisted upwards a little more at his question, and while I was silently contemplating what to say to him he nudged me again, a playful glint shimmering in his hazel eyes. "C'mon, give a guy a hint will ya?"

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        I shrugged, glancing up at him through my lashes. "Nothing. So, how was slaving under the great Murtin Sarsfield today," I asked, bending my knee and resting my arm along it casually. He shook his head at me, his laugh more like a huff of air. "Long, I take it?"

        "I'm not sure if that accurately describes the day I've had," he admitted gruffly, tiredly rubbing his chin. "I'm pretty sure I've seen enough fire to put the volcanoes in the Deserted Lands to shame." I chuckled at his hyperbole, even as my blood sparked for joy at the thought, and my eyes trailed down to those blackened hands, imagining the searing heat they must've felt every day. Wondered if it were similar to the ones I allowed to grace mine every so often. 

        My fire sorcery was a secret I held close to my heart, not even Garran knew of the beast lurking in my blood. The tattoo on my right arm was no secret though, and every day I looked upon it confused as to whether the dragon's maw was a blessing or a curse. Imprinted on to my skin since birth, it was a permanent reminder of the disappearance of that fantastically powerful race of Dragons, blessed with awesome power of fire, lightning, water, earth, anything you could think of, they could master, and breed into their bloodlines. The last and most powerful of rulers had been blessed by the Sun Goddess with a maw of brilliant golden flames, as the stories said. Dagon was as extinct as Valindra, both having given their lives to buy a measly bit of time for the world to scramble and figure out what their plan was to fend off the Demorian legions of Llandelwyn, who now once again roamed the realm as they pleased, content to massacre what little remained of us humans.

        Because of people like me.

        The only solace our people had was that the Imperial Fae Queen Theanne decreed that the cousins of the Fae - the Elves - be sent to ensure the safety of whatever villages remained of the mortals. Over time it became a false comfort, as word spread like wildfire of the villages under very similar protection being completely slaughtered, not even a bone left of those strengthened immortals.

        Safe to say it made the Five Elven Kings upset, but bow they must to their superior cousins. It would take but a snap of Theanne's fingers, and they would be drifting away in the air like dust. The only kingdom that might have been able to stand a chance was the Khavir Elves of Khalin'Oda, but the others - Nuthriel, Asteri, Stysar and Enmistara - they wouldn't lift a finger against the Fae Empire.

        "Earth to Yv," Garran softly called, waving his hand in front of my vacant gaze. I blinked rapidly, bringing myself back down to earth and dazedly looked at him, blinking again. "Lost you there for a while. Everything okay?"

        I nodded, frowning slightly. "Yeah, just haven't been sleeping that well lately," I confessed, and to be honest it was true. Lately all I could see behind my eyelids were the visions of Valindra standing before the icy cave, her expression resolute. I didn't know why I was plagued with the Fire Sorceress, maybe because our powers were similar, but it still didn't make sense. Why was she standing there? And why was it just that scene?

        I flinched as Garran's large hand came down on my head and ruffled my hair in consolation, and despite myself I purred slightly, relishing the feeling of his fingers running along my scalp. "If I were to run my hand through your hair like this, do you think it'd help?"

        A ghost of a smile graced my lips and I yawned, nodding my head. "Yeah, it probably would..." He wordlessly pressed his hand against my shoulder and pulled me in to his body, his warmth already seeping in to me. "Oh, this is nice."

        "Yeah yeah sleeping beauty," he teased softly, pressing his lips against the crown of my head, "sleep well, Yv."

        It didn't take long until sleep came over me, and with it, the unnamed visions.

~~~

Valindra stood just beyond the mouth of the cave, her face set in grim determination as her fists clenched. She was Valindra of the Violet Flame. She would not falter. She would not cow and back away from this quest. It was hers to accomplish, her legacy to establish and to ensure the survival of.

        She would succeed. There would be no other outcome.

        The cave stretched on endlessly, the dark pulling at the edges of her conscience as she passed. At some point Valindra thought she had heard whispers of those who used to wander this path, each a tale of wondrous legends and battles that would only be told through those who had witnessed them. She felt the heavy presence of reptilian eyes on her frame as she sauntered through, her duty heavy on her chest.

        She stepped and squinted as she entered the main chamber, the bright light a sudden shock compared to the dim entryway. Ancient Dragons were draped along the cold stones like discarded blankets, each staring at Valindra with a hollow glint in their eyes. Such hopelessness, she thought to herself. But she paid no more heed to them, instead turning her violet gaze towards the largest beast of them all, his scales cascading down from a brilliant vermillion to gleaming gold, and when he shifted to face her they rippled like bright flames.

        "I was wondering when you would deign to arrive, puny sorceress," the great Dragon grumbled, his baritone voice trembling the walls of his cave.

        She jutted her chin forward, her eyes glaring defiantly as she stared down the dragon before her, his molten gold eyes devouring her where she stood. "Dagon, Dragon King. You know why I have come here."

        He stood up from his perch, still staring down the mortal as though she were nothing more than a nuisance. "Yes," he conceded, his yellow eyes betraying deep sadness. "I do."

~~~

Smoke tingled in my nose, and shortly after large hands gripped my shoulders, shaking me violently. My eyes flew open as I gasped, fear striking through my body. 

        "Garran, what in the hells are you doing?!-"

        "Yvanna," he said breathlessly, his hazel eyes wide and trembling with fear, "the village, the village is-"

        "The village is what, Garran?" I knew my question was ridiculous, the tang of acrid smoke was obvious.

        He swallowed dryly, slowly prying himself off of me. "Demons," he whispered, and I closed my eyes. Valindra and Dagon flashed through my head, the unfinished scene lingering in the back of my mind. Somehow, they were warning me. Trying to tell me something.

        My hand wandered up to cup the tattoo on my arm, the dragon's maw suddenly beginning to sting. "We should go." I tried to muster confidence in my voice, but the only thing I felt was a cold, icy pit in my stomach.