Clerks’ Ward

We moved on, to another ward of the city, known as the Upper or Clerk’s Ward. I noticed a woman walking towards us, followed by a member of the Harmonium, almost as if he were a bodyguard.

She was an older, stern-looking woman, clearly on her way somewhere. When she noticed my approach, she studied me with a disapproving, tight-lipped frown. Although she plainly didn’t approve of something about me, I stubbornly plowed on.

“Greetings…” The woman nodded curtly, speaking in a tone cold as ice.

“Yes? What is it? And watch your words, for I am Diligence, Fourth Magistrate of the Ward.” I briefly wondered whether people in Sigil changed their names to match their profession, or if their given name determined their path in life.

“Something troubling about my appearance?”

“I should most certainly think so! Should the Apparel Regulation Act be passed, people of your sort won’t be permitted to traipse about in such a manner, half-naked and filthy as you are…” I could have been insulting, confirming her opinion. But I decided to follow a more diplomatic approach.

“I'm quite clean, begging your pardon, and… meaning no disrespect, madam… some cultures might find your clothes offensive.” She examined me skeptically for a moment, then nodded.

“Your point is well-taken… sir. Still, though, you cannot deny you are a rather rough-looking sort of fellow.”

“My appearance is merely the product of my environment, madam, and a difficult life. I shouldn’t be held accountable for that.”

“Oh, but you should! How easy it is for one to blame one’s life, one’s surroundings for their every failing! I can see by your manner you are well-educated, sir, yet you appear to insist upon a lifestyle of wandering and senseless violence. Why not settle in Sigil, become a contributing citizen, rather than some bloody-handed nomad in its streets?”

“The choice is out of my hands, I assure you.”

“Oh? How so?” Her coldness melted away into a look of curiosity.

My lips quirked in a smile. I had the time. I told her my story… or what I knew of it. At the end, Diligence looked shocked.

“That… that is quite a tale, sir.”

“Were it only a tale, madam. It is my life, and I've the scars to prove it — as you noted when we first met, I believe.”

“Yes, yes… quite so.” She smiled slightly… I had begun to wonder if she was even capable of such a thing. “I wish you luck, sir, in your undertakings. May you find yourself once more.”

She claimed the time I had already taken was more than she could spare from her busy schedule, so she left without answering any more questions.

I moved on to an outdoor café, circulating among the patrons standing near the bar.

I talked to a young, finely attired woman relaxing there, enjoying the outside air while sipping at a beverage. Her eyes widened slightly as she took my appearance in. She smiled uneasily.

“Ah… greetings to—” Suddenly, her eyes alighted on Morte. “Oh! What a cute little mimir!” I decided to have a little fun with Morte, for a change.

“Isn’t he? He likes to have the top of his skull scratched.”

“Truly?” She remained smiling, but looked suspicious. “Surely you jest, sir! ’Tis only a mimir…”

“What do you mean? Don’t they all enjoy that?” I asked innocently.

She shook her head. “No, none that I've seen. They’re merely objects, aren’t—” Morte interrupted her:

“Well, you see, chief, it’s all about differences in the quality of your mimir. Some — like me — are more enchanted than others, that’s all. More… uh… ‘self-aware,’ is the term.” The woman shrugged.

“That could certainly be.”

I questioned her about the Clerk’s Ward. From her and several other patrons, I learned most of the ward was filled with record halls and administration buildings. The part of the ward where I was now was different. It contained the Civic Festhall of the Sensates, a faction. There were several other buildings of interest as well. The Art and Curio Gallery, the advocate’s home, the apothecary, the Brothel of Slaking Intellectual Lusts, the tailor and an odd little curiosity shop.

Questioning her revealed a bit more about some of the locations. The advocate was Iannis, a lawyer. The brothel existed to pleasure the mind and senses, certainly a type of brothel with which I was unfamiliar. It was run by a sensate, said to be a succubus, which I thought to be some sort of a fiend. The Civic Festhall was most renowned for its sensoriums, where one could experience the experiences of others captured in special stones. Some areas of the festhall were resolved for members of the Sensate faction only.

I overheard another, older, patron expounding on obscure regulations to a younger companion who was looking somewhat dazed. The older man looked somewhat bookish. His clothing and accessories were extremely clean, neat and well cared for, and he often paused to brush some fleck of dust or lint off of them. A symbol resembling a stylized dagger, piercing upwards through a flame, was embroidered upon his tunic.

I interrupted him to get his attention. The man’s eyes passed over me, gleaming as they fixed on Morte.

“Oh, I say! Would you look at that! A floating skull!”

Morte turned and looked behind him. “Where?! Where?!” The man gasped as Morte spoke.

“By the unjust laws of Tueny the Merciless!” He suddenly covered his mouth and looked at Annah apologetically.

“Sorry, sorry… the man was a horrible tyrant, now long dead. His name should never be spoken so; ’tis rather vulgar. My deepest apologies, m'lady. I did not mean to offend.” Annah shrugged, rolling her eyes.

“Talk as yeh like, cutter; I care not a whit fer what yeh say… unless ye’re rattlin’ yer bone-box about me, that is.” He turned back to Morte.

“But behold! A skull, buoyant, levitating off the ground, cognitive of its environment, and possessing hearing, speaking and seeing capabilities.” He turned to me, as if I was suddenly a confidant.

“This is truly one of the reasons that the Planes shall never become dull to me, sir — just when you think you have seen everything, the Planes show you yet another corner to peer around, and…” He raised his hands gloriously. “…suddenly whole new, wondrous vistas are open to you.”

“I'm not sure if Morte qualifies as a ‘wonderous vista.’ “ I said sourly, aware it was probably a mistake to ever have attempted to begin this conversation. The man ignored me, looking to Morte instead.

“I say, skull…” he began when Morte gasped.

“Look, behind you — another floating skull!”

I resignedly let matters take their course. The man seemed to have forgotten me entirely, instead turning in shock to look for this ‘other’ floating skull.

“No! Where? Where!”

“Right where I'm pointing! There!” The poor fellow didn’t even stop to think that Morte had nothing to point with, he was so busy looking attempting to see what Morte saw.

“Where? I cannot see it!” Morte replied with mock exasperation.

“You just missed it! A whole parade of them! Probably never happen again in a million revolutions of the Great Ring!”

“I sense you also possess a peculiar degree of mockery,” he harumphed, having finally caught on.

“I prefer to refer to it as keen insights into human nature.” Morte bobbed slightly, as if shrugging.

I attempted to get the man’s attention again. He suddenly seemed to see me for the first time… The man’s eyes widened.

“By the unjust laws of Tueny the…!” He caught himself, looking apologetic. “I say, are you all right? You look…” He fumbled for the words. “…hurt.” I replied I was all right. Annah interjected herself into the conversation as well.

“Aye, it hurts ta look at ’im, it does.”

“Very funny, Annah. I had some questions, such as who you are.”

“Why, my name is Able Ponder-Thought. I passed my Administrator exam just recently, and have achieved the status of an ‘A9,’ a research consultant in the Hall of Records, one of the many aides specializing in Sigil’s physical laws and history. I research topics and laws of interest to others. It is quite fascinating, really…”

I quickly cut him off, asking about the symbol embroidered on his tunic.

“Why, ’tis the symbol of the Fraternity of Order. We are responsible for much of the law-making and running the courts here in Sigil. Many judges, advocates and clerks are members of our Order, and we are pleased to be able to help enforce Sigil’s laws and keep things orderly. We make a strident effort to learn all laws, whether they pertain to Sigil, the Planes or the multiverse itself.”

“The Fraternity of Order believes that the multiverse is governed by laws. When one knows all the laws, one will understand the multiverse. That is our goal. By understanding the laws, their limits, we learn to avoid certain laws.”

Perhaps he would be of some use, after all. I asked about the Lady of Pain.

“The Lady of Pain, yes, yes… she is the force behind Sigil, you know. Very impressive figure, but little is known about her.”

He began ticking off the points which were known on his fingers: “One: She is not just a symbol of Sigil, as some claim. She is very real and very dangerous. Two: She is believed to be the one that keeps the Powers… deities… out of Sigil. As long as she is present, the Powers cannot enter Sigil… Three: She also prevents unauthorized teleporting and gating into and out of Sigil. It prevents the outer planes creatures from bringing even more of their kind to Sigil outside of the conventional routes. Four: She has never spoken. To anyone. Five: She usurped control of Sigil from Aoskar, a Power now believed dead. Six: Anyone who threatens Sigil… or her… is punished, either by falling beneath her shadow, which results in a series of invisible stab wounds that can kill even greater baatezu, or by being sent to the mazes, from whence few ever escape. Seven: She does not like to be worshipped. Those that do are often found with their skin missing. And lastly: The sight of her is believed to drive others mad.”

I asked about several other topics, but found either his knowledge to be lacking, or explanations so long-winded he never came to the point. He failed to note my attempts to excuse myself, so I just walked away.

I moved to another patron, a tall, slender woman, sipping wine from a small ceramic cup. She appeared to be looking for someone. Her facial features were elegantly exotic and the woman’s ears, though partially covered by her long hair, could be seen to come to sharp points.

I greeted her. The woman turned to face me, violet eyes flashing like flawless chips of amethyst. Her speech was as music; I could hear a faint, musical tinkling, a hundred tiny crystal bells, as she spoke. Each word lingered in my ears, as if they were unwilling to relinquish the exquisite sound.

“Nemelle turned to face the scarred, dour stranger. She asked what he wished of her.”

“Wow, “ Morte commented.

“Pah!” Annah sneered at Morte. “Stop yer droolin', yeh leerin’ skull.”

“My,” Morte replied, “what a hot-blooded little chit! Starved for attention? I could drool over you, too, if you’re just jealous…” Morte started floating towards Annah, making wet slavering noises…

Annah stated, “Get a hair’s breadth closer, skull, an I'll see to it that not one o’ yer chatterin’ teeth lies within a hundred paces of another!”

Morte stopped abruptly, turning away while muttering unintelligibly. I tried to ignore their byplay.

“You’re Nemelle? I was told you know the command word for this decanter.”

The woman made no move to touch or examine the decanter, but only spoke. “Nemelle took it from the stranger, turning it in her hands. Had she seen its like before, she thought? Perhaps… yes, she remembered now. She returned the decanter, whispering into his ear as she did so…” I realized I knew the word, now — ‘Nildenosaj’ — though I was certain the woman never whispered to me, but merely said she did. She blinked at me.

“Would the stranger leave her, now, satisfied with what she had told him?”

“Not just yet. Are you looking for someone?”

“ ‘Where could she be?’ Nemelle wondered. Her companion, Aelwyn, was supposed to have met her here days ago.” The woman sighed miserably; the air around her grew chill with her sadness. “How long must she search this vast, foreign city before she finds her dearest friend?”

I nearly started at the name Aelwyn. When I first left the Mortuary, a citizen of the Hive recognized me, and accused me of an awful crime to someone of that name. But it couldn’t be the same person.

“I could help you find your friend. What does she look like?” Nemelle clasped her hands together and bowed her head to me.

“She would be so pleased to hear news of her friend! She told the kind stranger what Aelwyn looked like, so that he would know her should he come across her.” An image formed in my mind — a woman who resembled Nemelle, but with golden eyes and hair of fiery crimson.

Now that I knew the command word for the Decanter of Endless Water I carried, I thought back to the Smoldering Bar and the twisting corpse which gave it its name.

Ignus

We travelled back across the wards, to the Hive, and entered the Smoldering Corpse bar. As we entered, a man almost ran forward to meet me.

The man in front of me had large eyes and a thin frame. He seemed confused and frightened by the rest of the bar patrons, but he looked incredibly relieved to see me.

“Greetings?” He seemed familiar, yet I was sure I had never seen him before. He chuckled lightly and rolled his eyes in a ‘you wouldn’t believe what happened to me’ look that I found strangely familiar.

“ ‘Bout time, friend! I thought I might be here all day waiting for you.”

“Uh… do I know you?”

“Why, yes.” He gave me a peery eye. “At least, I think. I… uh… well… can’t recall everything about you, but…” He frowned in thought, then shrugged. “…anyway, it’s good to see you. I'm Adahn. We’re friends, I take it. Excellent! I could use more friends like you, it seems…” He looked around in confusion. “Since I don’t appear to know anyone in these parts, much less how I got here.” Adahn! I certainly recognized that name.

“Where are you from?” Adahn seemed surprised, and his confusion resurfaced.

“I… hmmnnn.” He frowned. “Well, not from around here, I don’t believe… or do I? I think I would have recalled such a place. Don’t really right recall where I'm from, or where I'm bound…”

“Do you know who I am?”

“An… old friend?” He sounded like he was testing the water. “Aren’t you?”

I was sure now. Belief had power on the outer planes. Now I was creating beings, drawing them into my tormented circle, as if enough strays weren’t finding their way to me on their own. I was careful to say nothing that might further roil his inner confusion.

“Yes, yes I am. Say, I had some questions for you…”

“Oh, and I had some for you, too…” He frowned. “Except I can’t seem to get a handle on ‘em.” He shrugged. “Questions — who needs ‘em? All that matters is the answers anyway. I think.”

I reconsidered, and thought it would be better for him if he had as little contact as possible with me. “Well, it’s been interesting, Adahn, but I have to leave. Farewell.”

“Hey… uh…” He frowned. “Look, before you up and fly away to wherever abouts you’re going, I've something for you… at least I think so…”

“What is it?”

“I'm not sure.” He dug in his pockets, and frowned. “Pockets too damned small to keep anything in…” He scratched his head. “Maybe…” He pulled back his sleeves, first the left one, then the right one, looked angry, then let both sleeves fall back to full length. I had a peculiar thought, as though we were acting out pre-written lines.

“Why don’t you check the left sleeve again? I think it might be there.”

“Really?” He pulled back the left sleeve again, and this time, I saw a package tied to his wrist. He smiled in relief, untied it from his arm, then handed it to me. “For you, friend. From me, for you… a thanks of sorts!” He nodded as I took the item. I studied it… it looked like a ring of some sort. I could almost see the script as I asked another question.

“Wasn’t there some money to go along with this?” He snapped his fingers.

“Yes, there was, yes there was.” He looked down at his belt, where there was now a belt pouch. He untied it and passed it to me. “It’s all there. All hundred coppers.” I took the bag, and opened it. It all looked to be there.

“What about that enchanted item you wanted to give me?” He looked puzzled for a moment, then smiled, as if remembering.

“Why, yes, there was one, wasn’t there?” He reached into his right sleeve and pulled forth a long, slender dagger. “Here you are.”

As I looked up from my gift to thank Adahn, I suddenly noticed he had vanished. I didn’t even hear him leave. I wasn’t sure whether I should be glad he had been spared the bittersweet pains of existence, or saddened he had so little time to live and perhaps find his own way to happiness.

I examined the dagger and ring Adahn had given me. The metal they were made of looked extremely thick and heavy, but was almost weightless. It shifted coloration as I watched, changing from silver, to bronze, to gold.

I shook my head, and continued forward to fulfill my reason for coming here, the crackling, billowing creature, who must be Ignus, twisting slowly before my eyes above an iron grill upon the floor of the bar. It may have once been human, but now its skin was charred beyond recognition. Streams of fire formed a wreath around the creature’s body, and the flames licked at the few remaining pockets of flesh, causing them to bubble and run like wax down the creature’s skeletal frame.

The heat surrounding this… creature… was incredible. To my surprise, the iron grill the creature floated above had sagged and bent from the heat. At first, I thought the heat came from the grill… but now I realized it emanated from the creature. As I watched, flecks of ash drifted from the writhing corpse and floated slowly to the ceiling.

I tilted the Decanter of Endless Water over the grill and began to pour. A small stream of ice-blue water poured from the decanter, and touched the flames of the grill with a violent hissing and a rush of steam… as if in response to this challenge, the decanter seemed to lunge forward, falling onto the grill and shattering!

Hissing billows of steam and a furious crackling noise rushed from the grill, spilling over me and forcing me to cover my ears and turn away… there was a scream, a cackling, a terrible sound like a hundred buildings burning, people screaming, their screams being cut short by the roar of flame and melting flesh…

As I put my hands over my ears to block out the sound, I felt a stickiness on my hands, like hot cheese or candle wax… my ears were bleeding from the sound! I drew my hands back, and saw them covered with chunks of melted flesh filled with bloody swirls…

I was about to run from the bar, anything to get away from the sound, when suddenly all fell silent, except for a jagged crackling coming from the grill. I turned — on the grill lay the Decanter of Endless Water, now nothing but shards and steam. Above it was the creature, flames still trailing from its body, floating over the bar’s floor. It was staring at me, its eyes flickering like two torches…

Suddenly realization struck. I said, “I know you…”

The creature’s face split, charred flesh peeling away from its jaw so that it might speak. “Yessss…" Its voice crackled, burned, roared through the creature’s chest, and with every word, flakes of cinder and ash spit from its mouth and drifted into the air. I could barely stand to look at the thing — the blazing radiance surrounding it was terrible to behold.

“Ignus…”

“Yesssss…” The creature floated towards me, the air bending from the thermals surrounding it."Long have I ssslept… dreamssss of flamesss…" As if in response, flames curled within Ignus’ throat, and a tongue of flame streamed from behind his blackened teeth."I am yourssss… ‘til death comessss for ussss both…”

Ignus’ lover, Drusilla, had approached us. Ignus’ eyes flared up as he saw her, and before I could stop him, he embraced her. She returned his embrace, losing herself in his flames. She did not cry out. My last glimpse of her was burned into my memory: Her eyes were full of fiery passion and all-engulfing love. Nothing was left of her — not even ashes.

I was repelled by Ignus’ act, even though I knew I had done much worse things. I decided I had better talk to him right away, try to lay down a few rules.

“Ignus, what happened to you to make you this way?”

“Thissss way…” A small pocket of flesh on Ignus’ cheek popped, and ran in a steaming trickle down his jaw. “Thissss way… Ignussss alwayssss wasss…”

“But… you look human. Or at least, you look like you were human once.”

Ignus twisted, hunching his head forward as his body spun slowly above the ground… the effect was much like a fiery whirlwind, thermals streaming off his body and distorting the air around him. “Ssssstill Ignusss… alwayssss Ignusss…”

“I had some other questions for you…”

“ hssss’ sssss! ” My heart jumped as Ignus soared several feet into the air, and his jaw tore open, fiery trails spilling forth like a nest of snakes. “ no more talk and quesssstionsss! Ssssilence…!” I hastily backtracked.

“But I wish to speak of flames, Ignus, and of burning…” My words were like oil… and I watched them fill Ignus’ eyes, fanning the flames I saw there.

“Flamessss? ” Ignus drifted down slightly, the heat around him rising, as if in interest. “Sssss'peak… Ignusss will lisssten…”

I asked if it was true, whether he burned down the Alley of Dangerous Angles.

Ignus’ face split, the flesh around the corner of his mouth cracking, then re-melting into charred, sneering red-and-black pieces. “Yessss… a dream sssshall Ignussss ssshare…” A torrent of flames poured from Ignus, and I took a step back, the air bending from the heat.

“Sssstreetsss at night… ssssso cold… Ignussss burnnn the buildingssss, the dwellersss… all ran from Ignussss, the flamessss, and the buildingssss were as flamessssss… screamssss as the dwellerssss became TORCHESSssss…”

“Buildingssss as skeletonssss… Anglessss, bodiessss as skeletonssss… redsss and orangessss and blackssss, the flamessss sssspreading, caresssing… sssuch lightssss…”

“Sss…” Ignus’ fury died, the wreaths of flames surrounding him ebbing somewhat. He seemed to be lost in thought — perhaps lost in memory. “Ssss… and Ignussss wassss pleasssed…” Once again, I was disgusted with him. I decided to switch to another topic.

“Ignus, your mastery of the Art… can you teach me any of your powers?”

“Ssss… Ignussss once knew much… no longer… Ignussss burnnssss… in sssuffering, Ignusssss learnssss…” A tiny flame gusted from his mouth, like laughter, and a stream of embers spat forth. “Ssssuffer… learn…”

I knew he meant to hurt me as part of his teaching. And I knew I didn’t trust him, that my body was unconsciously tensing, ready to attack him if he moved any closer. I couldn’t understand why, but it might have something to do with the growing feeling of familiarity with Ignus.

“Ignus, I spoke with a storyteller in the Hive, and he mentioned that someone taught you these things… who? ”

“Of learningssss and teachingsss you know…” Gouts of flame erupted from Ignus’ mouth, in a horrid semblance of laughter. “You have alwayssss taught Ignussss… Ignusss massss’ ter, you were. ”

“Me? Are you sure…?” Ignus’ voice dropped, and the crackling of the flames died.

“Yessss… it issss the only reasssson… Ignussss… obeysss you “ Flames rose around him in a crackling spiral. “‘til death comessss for ussss both… your wordsssss to me… to your sssstudent ignussss… Ignusss hassss not forgotten… Masssster…”

“Ignus, if I was your ‘Master'… can you remember anything about me?”

Ignus hissed… and for a moment, his features flickered — at first, I thought it was the flames, but it was not… it was the flickering of memory… I surrendered to the memory.

The crackling of Ignus’ flames subsided, lessening as the charred bones of Ignus’ body folded up, twisting into itself until his limbs lay motionless, becoming a stack of wood within a huge iron fireplace… I was staring into a fire, burning brightly within a vaulted room. The fire crackled and spat embers onto the stone floor, motes rising from the fireplace. Faintly, from the darkness behind me, I could hear the rasp of someone breathing.

In the memory, I spoke, “I can hear you… step into the light.”

There was the shuffling of sandals, and a frail youth stepped into the edges of the firelight. His wide, black eyes caught the flames and mirrored them. He was nervous — I could hear his muscles shaking, his voice trembling — just enough to increase my irritation. “Forgive my intrusion, master. I—”

“You have already intruded, supplicant. You did so with intention. I will hear it now, then you will leave me to my thoughts.”

The boy took a deep breath, and glanced at the fire. “Master, I… dreamed of flames again, last night… they felt real, and you said that we were to come to you if —”

“It was a dream, nothing more. Now leave.”

The boy did not move — his brows drew together, and slowly, he displayed his hands. The flesh around the fingers… blackened, burned.

“How did your hands come to be burned, supplicant?”

“I awoke and my hands were as ash.” The boy met my gaze; he was still trembling, faintly, but there was an eagerness in his voice which angered me. “I dreamed I soared above the earth and the ground and sky were as fire. The world itself was so bright that it… hurt to look at it, master. And when I awoke, my hands… they were burned, as if I had held a flame within my hands.”

“You lie, supplicant. You have come to me with a story, and now you are in danger of angering me.”

“No, master…” The boy’s face glistened with a sweaty sheen of fear. “No, upon my life, I do not!”

“You burned yourself with a candle, supplicant. Or thrust your hand within one of the pyres in the Vault of Currents. Now you come to me and tell me a dream burned you. I tire of your lies.”

The boy fell silent, and to my surprise, his face clenched in anger. “No. I do not lie. It was the dream that burned me, master, as you said it might if we felt the power stirring. They were your words, and I came to repeat them to you and tell you they are true.” He held up his hands. “Look, master…”

Before the boy could react, my hand — huge in comparison — lashed out, crushing his burned hands in its grip, and the boy screamed, echoing in the vault. With a snarl, I hurled him to the ground in front of the fireplace, and there was a sharp crack as his knees struck the flagstones.

“Look into those flames, supplicant! Raise your head, look!”

The boy was shuddering from the pain from his knees… I watched tears blur his eyes as he raised his head to look into the fireplace. The flames cast his face in a red, gaunt glow…

“Is that what you wish to hold, supplicant? Is the shaping of flames what stirs your heart? Know that flames can burn, and if you would learn their power, you must suffer their touch.”

The boy was silent, staring into the flames. He seemed mesmerized. His tears had dried in the heat, and the shaking was gone. The flames were his focus. He was not listening to me, and I felt fury washing over me.

“If that is what consumes you, enough for you to intrude upon my meditations, then I shall teach you of the shaping of flames, supplicant.”

My hand lashed out and clamped onto the boy’s wrist. He howled as I dragged him closer to the fireplace, then thrust his hands into the coals — there was a crackling, a hissing of burning flesh, and his screams — such terrible, yet —

“To learn, you must suffer, supplicant. You must allow yourself to be burned by the power of that which you wield. Know its torment, and you shall know how to use it against your enemies.”

My vision cleared, the memory streaming away like smoke. Ignus was hovering above me, his head cocked to one side, and an insane, blackened grin smeared across his face…

“Masssster… Ignusssss hasss not forgotten your teachingsss…” I tried to move on to another topic, but Ignus balked again. The anger from my memory was still with me as I gave him an order.

“You will answer my questions, Ignus. I set you free, and I may send you back to your hell again.”

“Think you could ch’ain Ignussss…?" The flames around Ignus swirled like a cloak, then fanned outwards, as if seeking to caress me. “ kill you, turn you to asssshessss Ignussss can… for now, Ignusssss followsssss… but threatsssss… threatsss anger Ignusssss…”

“Actually, Ignus, you couldn’t stop me — you could burn me, but I'd keep coming at you until you were kindling. So enough with the threats…”

There was a crackling in the air, and Ignus cocked his head slightly, as if studying me, then hissed. “flamesssss will burnnnn the immmortality from you… you are not sssafe from my flamesssss…”

“Maybe you don’t understand what immortality means, Ignus…”

“You are not immmortal… Ignusssss can kill you… ssscatter your asssshesss to the windssss…” I watched as he flung his arms wide, and a heat poured from him, so powerful I was forced to shield my eyes — there was a great roaring, as the air fled past me being drawn into Ignus.

As I tried to shout at Ignus to stop, the tide of heat turned back upon itself, and a blazing heat washed over me. I felt my flesh begin to smolder, then smoke, and the beginnings of pain… I clenched my teeth, and over the pain, I could hear Ignus cackling… cackling, crackling laughter…

As I shouted his name again, the heat died — as I drew my arms back from my face, I saw that my skin had blackened from where Ignus burned it… and Ignus was watching me hungrily. I knew, more than anything, that whatever Ignus was, whatever power that had embraced him, it had the power to destroy me — if his flames were to kill me, there would be nothing left of my body.

I barely held myself back from testing whether I could kill him before he destroyed me. Part of my anger was spilling over from my previous incarnation, but I was unable to control it. Ignus didn’t seem evil, precisely, more of an elemental force. But in any case, I wasn’t the one to help him. If we remained together, the time would come when one of us would kill the other.

I left Ignus in the no longer Smoldering Corpse bar, resolved to walk as far as the Lower Ward before resting for the night. I hoped Ignus was able to find help on his own. I also hoped I wouldn’t hear of Hive blocks burnt down in the morning.

As I left him behind, Ignus called out, “You are all tallow for my flamesss.”