“Yeah, I was told at the academy. I was kind of enthralled by fire since I was a little girl, you know. Maybe I intuited its import and likeness to magic long before learning my first arcane word. Wouldn’t that be something?” she wondered with a half-grin. The truth, however, was most likely the other way around: It was not fire’s likeness to magic that drew her in. For her, magic had always been a way to come closer to touching that radiant flame, ever so beautiful and defiant towards the human hand and will. Her Icarus flight promised that she would either become one with the sun someday, fully embraced by its searing arms, or become rejected and burn to nothingness. Or, if fate was cruel, a vile bird of prey would snatch her up mid-air to devour her very soul. This threat became more real by the day with the enemies she was making.

“They must be utterly insane,” Jillian concluded, “Not even I would choose to live on a volcano! But you know, Gerald, I wonder if I can show you some burnt stone. Orphid’s flame can melt iron and even steel quite efficiently. Maybe it’s just hot enough if I give it a minute or two. I bet you haven’t heard of this spell before either in all your forbidden studies.”

“Here, let me show you a little secret of mine,” she offered with an excited smirk. She outstretched her arm towards the campfire and began deftly flicking her hand and fingers in familiar patterns resembling arcane runes. If Gerald listened closely he might just hear her muttering the words under her breath, but the effort seemed half-hearted, almost unnecessary. The speed and certainty with which she casted the spell showed that the gesture had become more than mere memorization; they had become second nature to her, the very motions, bereft of meaning, ingraining themselves into her muscles. In mere moments within her hand, fingers curved as if cupping an imaginary orb, there appeared a slowly-churning sphere of bright green energy – fire – that seemed to dance like real flame as seen through slow motion. The orb’s heat was immense and even though Jillian kept her arm outstretched, the two of them could already feel sweat building up on their faces and bodies. Her face somehow appeared unnaturally lifeless and macabre in the chartreuse light.

“It’s a forbidden spell. The tomes containing it have mostly been destroyed. Don’t know why, nobody really knows anymore what this Orphid did. All we know is that he supposedly died a very painful death, and his studies were erased. Except, a few examples still remain, or parts of them. This one comes with an additional invocation to cast on top of the orb, turning it into a beam. You’ve seen it in Gariel Downs. Quite taxing if you do it overlong, but very effective and precise.”

Jillian spied around for a piece of stone and found a pebble not too far from the grassless clearing around the campfire. She got up and headed towards it, her hand leaving behind a trail of green, fiery fetters that seemed to disappear far too slowly in the air. She knelt beside the piece of stone and bathed it in the viridian sphere; the earth around it and the rock itself turned black within seconds.

“Also, don’t look directly at the orb for too long,” she warned, looking away herself. It was clear from her expression that the heat – as well as the too recent expenditure of magic – were not being kind to her. “It’s weird, but looking at it makes you sick. Maybe that’s a hint towards Orphid’s questionable character. Would love to know.”

A trail of white-grey smoke was accompanied by a gentle hiss as the rock took on a reddish glowing hue. The heat and light reminded Jillian of her youth again, being in her father’s forge. Back then, she had been really interested in his craft and it made her wonder if, had magic not existed in this world, she might have picked it up herself. Her sister and she could have continued the business on their own then, without the need for men even. Not that she, of course, was particularly averse to menfolk. Maybe in a different world and a different life…

After a little more than a solid minute, Jillian withdrew the orb and dismissed it with a whisper and a flick of the wrist. Even after being banished, little sprites of fluttering, acidic green danced on the evening wind with uncanny resilience for a handful of unnatural seconds. When the witch looked down at her work, she saw that the pebble’s glow was waning quickly, and although it had not entirely molten, the outer layer had definitely warped its shape to a more irregular texture, as well as becoming irrevocably black. Short flames struggled to survive around the rock where the earth had caught fire, like worshippers crowding a sacred altar and praying for salvation. A tinge of disappointment formed on her frowning face.

“Not quite molten I guess, although I think if I did it longer it would eventually melt. What a fascinating spell though, is it not? When I saw it, I could not help but fall in love with it.”

She returned to her place next to Gerald, wiping her forehead as she did. Washing herself earlier had turned out to have been a pointless endeavor after all. She beamed at him with what seemed like genuine happiness, hoping that he would approve of her. Gnawing fatigue visibly ate away at her smile like rust biting into metal.