Solfyre lets out a deep sigh and looks up at the snow that had begun to fall overhead. Cool flakes drop and melt on contact with her face or cling to her lashes as she peers up. Shivering, she sinks down a bit further into the warmth of the hidden hot spring shown to her by her beloved. A streak of blue and white slithers overhead through the air as if attempting to eat every white cluster it can before they can reach Solfyre below. She can’t help but smile at this briefly before returning back to her thoughts and looking off into the dark gray clouds looming overhead.
The forum was disappointing to say the very least. While missing the ceremony Saturday night due to poisoned food was bad, at least that could be a plan easily changed to a later date. Disappointing, but not the end of the world. The death of her battlefield comrades being pushed aside for the sake of political niceties with no intention of resolve by those who were supposed to be her supportive collective and that being pushed so hard by a member of the fire guild and said collective, no less, well, that was unforgivable betrayal.
Solfyre growls and clenches her jaw, reflecting upon her observations and frustrations. That despicable hypocrite who claims to hate magic and who claims to hate the frivolous, unnecessary uses of magic seems frequently to be the first to use it for trivial and unnecessary things such as animating a suit of armor for a tournament or using a cloak to send a message. This idiot who claims he thinks things through better than I in his great, male-brained superiority consistently makes moronic decisions like opening an ancient vault and releasing a spirit impulsively and now at the cost to all the books in Runeheim. This same asshole who runs face first into battle despite being a ranged fighter then dares have the audacity to blame ME for his missing fingers and believing me a coward for not rescuing him when the odds were very against me as if I owe him when he does nothing but shit on every decision I ever make. The selfish dick that blocks the potential of others to resolve large problems he caused not out of ego but out of selfish desire to keep a gift from the spirit he released at the expense of all those around him. THAT hypocrite who claims moral superiority, integrity, and honesty over me yet he keeps secrets and flagrantly abuses his magic when he is the one who tells all who will listen that that is the ultimate sin of mages. HA. That same guy is the reason Han’s men will not receive the justice they deserve and the culprits will not be even reprimanded. He was the last straw, the reason she could no longer be a part of the Grym.
Solfyre let’s out an angry cry and sinks beneath the sulfur-scented hot water, letting out her breath till she finds the hot bottom. With the last of the air in her lungs, before coming up to the surface she screams and releases a violent wave of pent up magic she gathered from the hidden sun above then comes to the surface and gasps for air. The water practically erupts around her before settling back to a calm pool.
Instantly the blue streak floats down till blue crystalline eyes meet her own inches from her face.
“I’m sorry, Sylphanax, did I scare you?” She looks to the creature sympathetically and gently runs a hand along the length of its strange form. “I’m sorry. I’m ok. I’m just upset. Not at you. Sylph, can you get the coal from my bag?” She snaps her fingers and points to her pile of clothes by the water.
The creature trills and bolts for the bag Solfyre trained it to seek out and brings the chunk of coal. When Solfyre praises it, it excitedly chirps then slithers through the air, whipping around and playing on its own. Solfyre can’t help but smile at the marvelous gift from her love before turning her gaze down to the black mass in her hand.
She had thought all initiates blacked out when they were initiated. She had believed perhaps it was part of the cost of opening oneself up to the circles of power within the guild and becoming capable of channeling mama into the forms of fire, water, air, or earth respectively.
She was wrong. Sighing she puts the chunk in her mouth and begins to chew on the bitter crumbly thing until it is small enough to choke down. Then, she takes a sip of wine from her chalice on the rock shelf beside her before leaning back and relaxing once more.
At forum Hans had informed her that not only was blacking out not normal, but her initiation had had unforeseen consequences due to her relationship to the sun’s energy and apparently had resulted in a magical catastrophe. Her inherent magic clashed with the initiation ritual as it was a variable not adequately equated for. Now, well, now she would be eating coal for the rest of her life, she guessed. She wanted to feel bad about it, but Hans clearly felt bad enough and with the deaths of his men and the lack of justice for them, she figured he was hurting enough.
He wrote letters to their families of their deaths, told Solfyre about each one’s hopes and dreams, and deeply mourned the losses of those he considered family. It broke her heart to watch. Some of those same men had fought beside her and… well, her best friend, before her friend also was lost to her. They had sung to them on late nights by the fire, beacons treating incinerators to a song and a drink before battle. Then, together, they’d crushed the rimelanders who threatened to taint the souls of njordr and harm god with their heathenistic and sometimes heretical ways.
God she missed her friend. Now, she had Wulfric, she guessed, and of course Hans. Clearly, most turned their backs on truth and justice whenever it convenienced them most.
Slowly Solfyre emerged from the water, dressed, and threw on her cloak.
“Come on, Sylph, time to go. I told Caito we would be back for dinner and I want to see grandma and Hans before we do that,” she calls to the dragon-esque shape weaving its way between branches and terrorizing some finches over food it didn’t even want. At her command, it quickly flitted down and settled itself on her shoulder and then, they were off.