As a small Kelph flower, Peach lay by the sacred tree, basking in the sun. Eventually she grew into a small Kelph, and then an even bigger Kelph. As she did so, she kept her childlike tendencies and appearance, making her one of the most adorable Kelph in Mycena.

Her voice sounded like that of a child, despite growing up. Her brain had developed past that of a child, and she was quite intelligent, however almost every other aspect of her remained child-like. It was almost as though she had Peter Pan Syndrome; she simply didn’t wish to grow up.

This made her popular with the sprouts, and eventually she went into day-care, using her child-like appearance and tendencies to her advantage. One day she hopes to become a mother and have a sproutling of her own, as she absolutely adores all of the sprouts she works with. They help her feel young again, and loves and treats all of them as if they were her own children.

Bokeh is a city Kelph. She looks as if she would fit in extremely well; she looks like the city lights glowing in the night sky. Even though she is a Kelph, and is constricted primarily to the water, she longs for the day she can go into the city and make a name for herself.

Her goal is to have her name in lights. She loves to sing, and can often be heard singing around Mycena for all to hear. Her voice is angelic, and many come to the cave to hear her sing. However, the small community support is not what she wants; she longs for more. She just needs to save enough to move into the city, so she can work on making her way into the industry. She loves nothing more than to make people happy with her voice and music, so she would love to have the opportunity to make everyone in Mycena feel that way and hear her voice.

Patchwork, also known as “Patch”, is a small Drasilis well known amongst the children of Mycena. Her appearance is very distinctive. She looks as though she has been sewn together using many pieces of material. Her eyes almost look like buttons, and she has patches of different colours all over her.

Due to her appearance, she looks extremely doll like. She looks as though she’s a stuffed toy, which makes the children absolutely adore her. So many of the sprouts come up to her asking for a hug, and stare at her in awe. It makes Patch a little uncomfortable, however she is happy to do it as she is glad she makes the children so happy when they see her.

Patch loves the way she looks, and even wishes she could add more patches, buttons or seams to her appearance. Growing up she loves when more appeared, and she really appreciates her uniqueness. She hopes to use it for good and perhaps have her own childrens show one day. For now, she is content learning the trade of sewing, and making little dolls out of pieces of material, that sort of look like her. She loves the patchwork aesthetic, so it’s doubtful she’ll ever stop sewing.

warning: implied suicide

By the time day breaks, she feels like she’s wandered to the edge of the world. The faint glow of dawn throws a golden light over everything, veiling the shadows and bringing out the colours that were lost to the night. When she first slipped away the night before, she hadn’t had a proper goal in mind—but here, standing a breath away from a fall that would shatter her every bone, she thinks that this may have been where she’d always meant to go.

How long has she searched for this? She can barely remember when the longing started, or the dreams; the softest whispers that crept in at the edges of her consciousness but fled whenever she tried to grasp them. If she focuses now, though, she feels like the whispers are within reach—a chorus of voices that sing softly, beckoning to her. Welcome home.

She laughs, the sound clear and vibrant in the empty valley. The wind whips her hair around her face as she steps forward, so sharp she wonders if it’ll cut her.

But none of that matters, not anymore. She smiles when she spreads her arms out, and when she takes the last step the sound of the wind whistling past her is a clarion melody. She can hear the voices so clearly, and it’s more beautiful than anything else she’s ever heard before.

She closes her eyes, and just listens.

Welcome home, Lydia.

Nightglo, referred to her best friends as Glo, is an aspiring astronomer or astronaut. She loves admiring the night sky, and looking for different constellations in the galaxy. The first birthday she can remember, she received a fancy telescope, which allows her to gaze upon the night sky to her heats content. If she could, she would make it always be night time so she can always look at the sky.

Her parents knew from the moment they saw her as a flower that she was obsessed with the night. Her flower reflected the moonlight, and she basked under it all night. In fact, she only ever seemed to grow during the night: she had some kind of special connection to the moon and the stars.

Glo eventually wants to have a career in astronomy, so she can get paid to look at the night sky. Perhaps she’ll one day become an astronaut, so she can look at the stars and moon up closer. Maybe even land on the moon one day. For now, however, she’ll focus on gazing upon them from the ground.

Queenie is a very special little ineki. Her appearance is very unique – she is white, with black paws, ears, and tail tip. However, she has a red heart surrounding her eye. She also has a red diamond on one ear, and a black spade and club on her chest, though she is unable to see these herself.

Due to the heart around her eye, it was often joked that she was the “Queen of Hearts” in reference to the card in a deck of cards. This is how she got the nickname “Queenie”, a name which she absolutely adores and which suits her completely.

When Queenie is upset, she is extremely fragile, as if she were a house of cards that could be knocked over at any point. She is extremely emotional, and wears her heart of her sleeve. This makes her an excellent friend or companion, as she cares so much.

In addition, Queenie also seems to be extremely lucky. She always has luck on her side, whether it be through actual gambling, silly games, or even just luck on the street by picking up some leftover nuggets or gems. No one knows how she does it, but she appreciates how lucky she really is.

by Chou!

The god of dusk - 780 words

The rumors of the god of dusk’s statue crying is entirely unfounded, the priests say. They prevent anyone from entering the shrine from the time the sun has disappeared from the sky to the time when the sun rises again, so no one’s really sure, because if they were they’d be executed where they stand for admitting to trespassing during restricted hours.

But those who have snuck in agree - the god’s statue cries at night. The figure of the slender, feminine god standing on a dais with a sliver of moonlight on his face and crying silently is more than enough to pull the heartstrings of most visitors. One girl watched as the priests offered more and more to the god’s feet in an attempt to stop the tears. They left golden lamps, jewels, incense, and silks - they draped new, elegant damask banners around the shrine. They lit new candles, brought in fresh flowers, had a beautiful young woman sing and dance - but the god did not stop crying.

The priests left around midnight, disheartened. The little girl climbed down into the shrine and cautiously approached the statue, dropping to her knees and looking up at the god. “Why do you cry?” she murmured.

“I have not seen the moon for a very long time, child,” a voice replied.

The girl stumbled backwards in fright, nearly knocking over offerings. As she watched the statue, another version of the god seemed to step out of it - slightly see through and in full color. His long hair was a white-silver, and his skin was tanned, just like hers. He smiled sadly and glanced up at the nearly-closed covering above his statue before looking back down at the child. He knelt before her and held out a hand, and though he did not touch her, she felt a warm breeze that gently lifted her back up into a sitting position. “M-my lord?”

“Do not be afraid,” he said softly, “I was once a human, you know, at one point not so very different than yourself.”

Gathering her courage, the little girl nodded and then asked again; “why do you cry? Can I help?”

The god looked surprised before smiling again and pointing to the roof. “That covering has been blocking out the moon and interrupting my connection with the outside world. Did you know that this shrine is made of stone meant to block me in?” The little girl shook her head. “It didn’t used to be this way. Once, there were no walls here. But the desire for a god’s presence is a very powerful and very dangerous thing.”

“Why did they want to keep you here? You’re a god, aren’t you? Can’t you tell them to let you go?”

“The priests now have forgotten why their ancestors locked me away, child, and it’s best if they do not remember that I am here.” The god took the little girl’s hand and helped her up, standing before her and glancing off to the side. “I am tied to my statue, and I cannot move from this dais. Will you open the covering, child?”

The little girl nodded, determined, and ran over to the wall, cranking the lever for the roof covering with all her might. The rusty chain clanked and groaned as she threw her weight against it, and soon she could hear a commotion outside. The priests! She glanced at the god frantically, her eyes wide - she would be killed if she was discovered here! But the god just smiled and held up a hand. “I will protect you,” was all he said, and the girl nodded.

By the time the priests opened the door of the shrine, the little girl had pulled the roof covering off. As the bright moonlight hit the statue, it glowed and the god seemed to become solid. The priests stopped on the blue and gold runner and knelt immediately, though one grabbed the little girl by the arm and pulled her down to a kneeling position roughly.

“Let her go,” the god said firmly, and the priest shrank back. The god approached the girl and pulled her up by both hands before brushing her bangs away from her forehead and kissing it. A golden mark appeared and her clothes transformed from dirty hand-me-downs to royal blue and gold robes, golden jewelry adorning her arms and ankles. “Thank you, child,” the god said. His body faded slowly, then, until there was nothing left but white and silver sparks that floated out of the shrine. As they left, the child just barely heard a whisper in the wind; “live on with my blessing.”

It’s no secret that dragons hoard treasure. They rain fire and frost and a myriad of destructive energies upon hapless villages to find even the smallest trinkets, bury themselves in centuries of accumulated wealth, staring mesmerized by glittering gems and shimmering gold and priceless artifacts late into the night. Opaline was no different, and yet, her picky nature set her a touch apart. As her namesake suggested, she craved opals and surrounded herself only with the finest of the milky iridescent gemstones.

Deep within her cave lair, with the crash of ocean waves echoing off the damp walls into her twitching ears, Opaline curled like a serpentine cat upon a cushion of crushed velvet on a slab of solid gold and surveyed her vast treasure. Vibrant hues caught torch fire, reflecting lightning-like glitter in every color imaginable. She smiled to herself, cat-like once again, and settled herself to sleep with shimmering opals playing upon her dreams.

“Honey, come look at these hats! Your baby sister would look so cute in one, wouldn’t she?”

Callie shot her mother a blank stare, gazing with unspoken but very obvious disgust at the rack of flimsy sun visors and tacky straw hats. Her mother paid no mind, donning one colorful eyesore after another, chattering as much with her mirror reflection as the bubbly saleswoman who joined her.

With an admitted dramatic sigh, Callie wrapped her beach towel tighter around her damp frame, trudging around the boardwalk gift shop in hopes, however fleeting, that she would find something and and her mother would be done soon so they could return to the beach.

“Miss, may I help you?”

Glancing up at the silken voice by the register, Callie found herself lost in a pair of deep green eyes. Fearing herself blushing, she tore her eyes away from the attractive clerk, finding her gaze locked on a glass case full of pounds upon pounds of homemade fudge.

“We offer samples of the fudge if you’d like. See anything you’re interested in?”

Oh, she saw something she was interested in all right… “The…” Callie stuttered, staring down at her brown and green swirled bikini top and matching beach towel. “The… mint chocolate?”

The clerk gave her a lovely smile, enough to make her heart melt, before breaking off a small square of green-swirled fudge. Callie nibbled at the mint chocolate bliss she was offered, sharing a smile with someone just as wonderful.

Millie climbed up onto the beach, shaking her body as it reappeared behind her, reforming itself into a solid mass now that she was on dry land. She looked over at William, brooding over not being able to swim with the others. She sighed sympathetically, deciding to head over to try and cheer him up. She walked over, tilting her head around his to look into his eyes upside-down. “Heya Willie.” He grunted in response, looking up at her. Eye contact! It was an improvement at least. “Come on, cheer up. Being magic isn’t all bad, you know.”

The red-hot Kelph just looked at her for a moment, unimpressed, before rolling over in the sand. Millie groaned a little in annoyance, jumping over him and sitting down in front of him. “There’s so many cool things you can do with your powers. Like watch this.” She focused, liquifying her arms and linking them into one long watery appendage, which she twisted around to drink. After she’d drunk her arms off she pushed out from her sides, new arms bubbling out between her scales and solidifying themselves at her sides. “Tada!”

William sat there for a moment, not looking much better. He sighed. “Millie, that’s different. You can actually control your powers. And you’re not the only Kelph in the cave who can’t swim, despite really wanting to. You know as well as I do that if I got into the water it’d just evaporate.” She sat in stunned silence until he rolled his eyes and turned away from her. Her heart skipped a beat, he actually responded! And said her name! She scooted closer, putting a claw on his side and immediately reeling back in pain, her claw sizzling and half-melted.

William turned around, looking furious. “IDIOT!” Flames leapt off his spines and legs with his every movement, and his eyes lit up. “Don’t touch me! Don’t ever touch me! It’s too dangerous Millie!” She shrank back, holding her still sizzling hand, her tail liquifying under her and into the sand as she backed into the ground away from him. “I-I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking, I just-” “No, you weren’t thinking! You know I’m too hot to touch.” He looked down at her, coiled up against herself and half-melted into the sand and realized he was scaring her, so he backed off. “I’m going home. Sorry.”

She watched him leave, collapsing into the sand where he was just laying and letting herself melt into a stream, flowing back into the lake to cool off and worry about what he’d gone off to do on his own.

This particular Kelph is a force to be reckoned with. He is a true warrior, and for that, he has a warrior name: Ajax. No, not Kevin, Bruce, Scott or Mitch. And certainly not Francis, but Ajax.

He is not a superhero, nor a villain, but just a warrior whose sole aim is to protect himself and survive. With his skills, he’s become a target by many. Despite seemingly having a target on his back, Ajax carries on and annihilates all those who dare cross him, or, if they get that far, attack him.

From his fights, he has many scars. His blue appearance is littered with red scars or sections, which match his red eyes perfectly. Over the years, he has perfected his skills. His main weapon of choice, and most prized possessions, are his Scythes. He never lets them out of his sight, and this habit of always having them on hand has definitely got him out of some very hairy situations.

(No, he was not named after the dish soap either!)

He’s tired of seeing this little square room.

Honestly, how long has he been here? He can’t remember anymore, and he gave up the notches a long time ago—it wasn’t as if they stopped the days from blurring into each other (plus at some point, he’d sort of lost track of when they started and ended). Maybe he should have kept them up after all, though. Counting them would have been more interesting than just sitting here staring at his white cinderblock walls or the (probably not really wooden) floor that had just a tiny bit more colour.

He thinks that once upon a time, he must have tried harder to escape. That was pretty stupid, when he thinks about it. It really isn’t worth the effort trying to escape from a room without a door or window, right?

…How long has he been here?

“Hello,” he says aloud, not entirely sure who he’s addressing. The room? The walls? Himself? Some unknown entity outside, beyond his white cinderblock walls?

Why does it matter, really?

He sighs, stretching. “How are you?” There’s no answer.

Whatever. It beats staring at the walls.

By [@Lady Hawkwing]

“And then, the mast shattered into a hundred pieces- No wait! A thousand pieces!” The cat lifted her paws wildly in emphasis as she continued her story. Her ears were pointed straight upwards, whiskers vibrating in excitement. “And then..” The retractable claws in her paws slowly slid out, lip twitching upward to bear her fangs. “The shards fell back down towards the ship, and there wasn’t enough time to get out of the-”

“Wait, hold up now, Itsy. I thought you said that a giant octopus was involved when you lost your eye.”

Itsy’s ears fell down against her skull as she looked towards the crew member who spoke. “Well yes, I um, I haven’t gotten there yet!” She took a step up onto a lone barrel as she tried to shake off the interruption. “Just as the shards were falling, as I was saying,” she shot a look towards the other, “a giant octopus latched onto the side of the ship and blocked the shards with its tentacles-!”

“I thought you were at harbor when this happened, not in open sea where the giant octopuses live.”

“I haven’t gotten there yet.” >8|

by Rhyme!

Solstice night - 828 words

“Today is an unlucky day to visit, ladies,” the old woman said when Erina and Yirn paid for their room at the inn.

“Why?” Erina asked as she slid the coins towards the woman.

“It’s the solstice,” the old woman said matter-of-factly, pocketing the coins and leading the way up the old, creaky stairs. “There are fair folk here, you know. Or, well, there used to be. There was even a changeling boy found in this town. Can you believe it?”

Erina and Yirn exchanged a look and Yirn spoke up, shifting her pack on her shoulder. “A changeling?”

“That’s what my gram told me,” the old woman said. She stopped in front of a room and opened it before stepping back, gesturing towards it. “The townsfolk back then trapped him in an iron room - a sort of warning to the rest of the fair folk in the forest. You know. Here’s your room. And heed my advice, won’t you? Don’t go out after dark tonight - it’s tradition, and nothing good ever comes from breaking it.”

Erina and Yirn nodded solemnly, but as soon as the door was closed Yirn grinned. “We’re going out tonight.”

—

Sneaking out of the inn wasn’t as easy as they thought it would be. The doors and windows all had iron latches, and there were people milling around (all hiding iron daggers in their sleeves, Erina noticed). Yirn had to cast a stealth spell for them to even get downstairs, and Erina had to use nearly half of her emergency supply of lockpicks.

Once they were outside, it was dead quiet. All windows and doors were bolted shut and covered, and no one was around. It didn’t even seem like there were any animals around.

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” Erina whispered.

“Nonsense,” Yirn said, leading the way confidently towards the edge of town, “have there even been any reports of fae in the area? I haven’t heard of any kind of nonhuman activity around here for years, but if there is and I manage to be the first to report it to the college ...”

Erina sighed. “Yeah, yeah, you’ll get recognized and earn a place with the trackers. But say there are fae here - isn’t it dangerous?”

“Well, yeah,” Yirn said, “but I’m confident that we can take care of ourselves.”

“Wait,” Erina hissed suddenly, grabbing the edge of Yirn’s robe, “what’s that?”

Yirn squinted into the darkness, past the last house marking the edge of town. Someone was there, walking towards them at a leisurely pace. “A person ... a male? Oh. Erina, it’s a kid.”

As he got closer, the two girls could make out more of the male’s features. He was slender and small, an adolescent, by the way he looked, with brilliant golden hair, pale skin, soft green eyes. He was beautiful.

Erina sighed. “Oh. Man, you scared us,” she said as the boy got closer. “Are you lost?”

The boy shook his head. “No, sorry. I was just taking a walk.”

“Even though the town is locked down for the solstice?” Yirn asked.

“Yes, even so,” the boy said. He turned and looked out towards the forest. “I live here, and I always go out during the solstice, and I’m fine. Are you visitors?”

“Yeah,” Yirn said, looking a little disappointed. “I heard that there were fair folk here, and we were hoping to see if that rumor was true or not. I guess it’s not, if it’s safe on the solstice.”

“Hm ...” the boy paused, and then smiled. “Well, there are some ruins in the forest from the fae court that used to live there. I can show you, if you like?”

Yirn jumped on the chance, agreeing instantly and tugging Erina along, ignoring her friend’s misgivings. Something tugged at Erina - something was wrong.

—

The empty thrones were gorgeous, even if they were overgrown.

“So?” the boy asked, smiling mysteriously, “what do you think?”

“They’re amazing!” Yirn said, bending to examine the inlaid jewels.

“Shouldn’t we be getting back?” Erina said quietly, leaning over to speak in Yirn’s ear.

Yirn rolled her eyes. “It’s fine, Erina! We’ve got a trustworthy guide, after all. He’s ... oh, um, we never actually got his name.” Yirn straightened and turned to the boy, who tilted his head. “Er, sorry! We never got your name or introduced ourselves. I’m Yirn, and this is Erina.”

“It’s a pleasure,” the boy said, his smile growing wider. Something was wrong, and Eria reached for her dagger, but one of the vines growing on the nearest throne grabbed her wrist. Soon, more vines reached out and pinned both her and Yirn where they stood. As they watched, the boy’s clothing shifted and morphed into silk garments, a cloak materializing around his shoulders and a golden crown winding itself around his forehead. “My name is Omelas - the prince of this fallen court. Say your farewells, Yirn and Erina, for tonight, you are our prey.”

Ophelia is a delicate little Ineki. She is very fragile, both physically and emotionally. She is made of glass, so one small knock could quite literally break her. For this reason, she has been sheltered for her entire life. She has been unable to play with other ineki, for fear of them being too rough and breaking her. So instead she has been restricted to safe activities and hobbies; writing, drawing, sewing. Basically, anything where there is no fear of getting knocked over or hurt.

Due to this, Ophelia has taken a particular liking to writing; specifically, poetry. Poetry is her way of getting her feelings out into the world. Her feelings of feeling isolated, being treated like she is delicate and fragile, unable to do things for herself. Her poetry is becoming particularly popular, as it has a lot of her emotions threaded throughout each piece. Each piece of poetry she writes tells a story, and connects to other people. This is her way of getting her feelings out, without having to say it to someone, for she is very delicate emotionally.

Wally is a small robot ineki. He has grown from a small flower into a young sprout, then into an adult. Despite being an adult, he still remains small in size. This is due to the lack of parts when constructing him between each stage, though he is not aware that there was a fault in his manufacture.

Due to his size, he got bullied a lot. He also got bullied for being different, and unlike all the other ineki. He did not have their soft fur, or beating hearts. Instead he had a rough metallic exterior that made clanging noises when it was hit, and he had wiring instead of a heart or brain.

Despite being a robot, Wally has developed feelings and tries his best to be aware of others. He is very emotionally connected with other mycenians. He has particularly warmed up to Eve, another robot he’s met. Although she is quite the opposite of him, he knows deep down she has a good heart. He hopes to be a talented robot like her one day, but to use it for good rather than evil.

Sun blazed down where there was no sun
And fractured in rock without breaking
Rainbows for joy and for hope and for promise
And glory to set your heart aching.

There is sunlight in Mycena Cave, but it still a cave. The light is magic, showing what lies above the stone (you can fly out into space, but it is still a cave) or created beneath.

But the sun, cold and barren though it may be, still lies above the rock.

And once (at least once) a ray of its light found a way

through the clouds

to the ground

through cracks perhaps

through clear and translucent stone

and most importantly, of course, through the magic.

And the light and the magic became a seed,

and the seed grew into a flower

with a gold stem shining with the light and an opal heart that shivered it into colors

that would bloom into a Drasilis.

Signa held up her lantern and looked at the unexpected bloom. “This is amazing and I have absolutely no idea how it happened.”

Ino peered at it. “It looks like you.”

Signa scoffed. “It does not.”

“Does too.”

“...I’m not doing this.”

“You’re not? If it’s going to be a baby, it will need looking after, at least for a little while.”

She spluttered. “That is not what I meant I wasn’t doing and you know it!” She huffed at her grinning friend, touched a shining petal wonderingly and tried to understand how it felt like a flake of stone and exactly like a petal at the same time. “We’ll come check it again tomorrow.”

“I’ll remind you to stop reading.”

“I know.”

by Kippie

Here is the sky in all its glory, here is Serass bathed in its presence. The stars, the stars! They ring their spectrums for all the universe to hear, would it listen like she. Whoever said the night was silent has never opened their ears.
The nebulae, their missing frequencies and spikes of sound where they emit and absorb only the notes they like. The pure tones that echo through the caves, unheard of from any Mycenian instrument, though not unpossessed by their own planet.
Serass knows. She hears it, too, the high ring of a paw pad around the edge of thin glass, the rotation of the planet’s core in its slow churn.
And oh, the stars, the stars! How do they sing! Hydrogen and helium, the thrumming bass of iron in the young ones who live too quickly in the moments before they vanish. Here is a song unique to her, as much as she wishes to share it.
Some days she wants to scream at them, listen, you children, this is your world, your galaxy, here it is speaking to you, but she can’t bear to break the sonata with her voice.
So here the universe sings on through the ice of night, and she does not cease her lonely vigil.

Aurelia is a very curious young child. She bloomed recently and is excited to explore the world around her. She’s very brilliant, interested in studying everything around her. However, she’s also very shy. She doesn’t like to ask too many questions or appear to be showing off.
She’s found the perfect solution to this problem. Every night, after everyone else has dozed off, she likes to explore on her own. This gives her privacy. She doesn’t have to ask questions or share what she’s doing and has all of the space to herself. She gets to sleep in as late as she wants, so it’s really quite perfect. (She’s not a morning person and absolutely needs her 9 hours of sleep in order to act in a civilized manner.)
Despite her modest manner, she does have her weaknesses. When it comes to her hair, she can be quite vain. She has vowed to never cut her beautiful curls. She can’t imagine having short hair, it would just be devastating to her. She spends a good portion of her morning and evening routine making sure her hair is in the best possible condition. She thinks that hers is the most gorgeous hair in all the caves!

By [@Lady Hawkwing]

They say the centaurs are long since gone from the land, their kind having been hunted and chased from their homes over the past few ages. They had been a docile race, eager to please and seek peace, but that had mattered little in the scheme of war. They were gone now.. at least that’s what the rest of the races of the world thought.

Deep in the old forests they hid, keeping to themselves as they remembered times long since passed. Valrim wasn’t necessarily a large centaur, but he was swift and agile. His coat was a mottled silver dapple, his skin pale, and his hair long and dark. His parents had been farmers and orchard runners, or at least he’d been told as much, but he’d traded in the farming tools of his ancestors in exchange for a bow. No longer was his kind docile, no longer did they only know peace.

They say you can find anything in the caves.

Jack is made of frost and steam and bloomed from a flower that blew out a moist breath into the freezing cold almost as an animal would, and the plume danced and frothed and left a glaze of frost on all it touched.

This was especially impressive since it was blooming in a maze of lava. Was the ice self-defense? Not really, it was so cold any normal plant would have died from the chill as fast as it would have incinerated two steps to the side.

Jack likes nothing better than to swim underground and climb out of the lava and watch the shock in the eyes of the Mycenians who came traveling so unwisely. They practically have to have fire magic of their own to survive where he lives (that or ice nearly as powerful as his), and he’s not very comfortable to be around, and people’s thoughts go inside-out trying to make sense of him.

No, there’s one thing he likes better: guiding them out. Because this is home to him, but the heat is dangerous even to fire-mages, and the heat-shimmer makes mirages and half the people who see him are lost.

Maybe he’ll tone down the cold and go visiting sometime.