The air burned.
Smoke curled thick over the streets of Ignisia, twisting into the night like the breath of some slumbering beast. The town groaned under the weight of destruction—timber crackled, beams splintered, the distant wail of the wounded was nearly swallowed by the roar of encroaching flames.
Then—the inferno moved.
A shape emerged from the blaze, taller than any man, its molten form shifting between solid rock and flickering flame. The Djinn stepped forward, its clawed feet sizzling against the cobblestones, leaving molten footprints in its wake. The fire pulsed beneath its semi-transparent form, embers flaring with each slow, deliberate movement.
Its eyes burned like miniature suns, twin orbs of smoldering heat set deep in a shifting, inhuman visage. It turned its gaze upon the street—a predator surveying its prey.
The mere presence of the Lesser Fire Djinn warped the battlefield.
Walls of flame erupted in its wake, swallowing escape routes, cutting the town into isolated pockets.
Buildings collapsed as their supports burned through, sending embers scattering like dying stars.
Civilians huddled in whatever cover they could find, some trapped behind fallen debris, their terrified cries lost in the storm of fire.
A group of townsfolk cowered in the shadows of a half-toppled market stall, their backs pressed against the unyielding wall of a burning building. The fire was closing in. They had nowhere to run.
At the center of it all, Thalric stood his ground.
His warhammer hung at his side, the leather-wrapped grip warm from the ambient heat. He rolled his shoulders, exhaling slowly, ignoring the sweat beading beneath his armor.
Across from him, Nariel stood ready, her blade gleaming against the firelight. She shifted her stance, her body tense, poised for action.
Their eyes met.
No time to plan. No time to hesitate.
The Djinn tilted its head, watching them, curious. Then, it lifted a molten hand—
—and the street exploded in flame.
The screams reached her first.
A small group of civilians were cornered against a collapsed building, flames licking hungrily at the wooden wreckage behind them. Cultists prowled forward, their ember-colored robes flickering in the firelight, blades drawn, faces alight with the zeal of those who believed in nothing but ruin.
Nariel's grip on her sword tightened. She could stop them. She had to.
But she turned—Thalric stood alone against the Djinn.
The creature towered over him, its molten claws flexing, flames coiling around its semi-corporeal form. Fighting that thing alone was suicide.
She hesitated.
Thalric growled, eyes never leaving the Djinn as he tightened his grip on his warhammer. "Go!" he barked, his voice cutting through the fire's roar. "I'll hold this oversized candle myself."
Nariel clenched her jaw. "That's madness."
Thalric finally glanced her way, flashing a grim, lopsided smirk. "Then you better hurry back before I do something really stupid."
A moment. A choice.
Then—Nariel turned and ran toward the civilians.
Thalric exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders as he faced the Djinn alone.
"Alright, then." He lifted his warhammer. "Just you and me."
The Djinn moved like fire itself—unpredictable, shifting, fluid.
It vanished—a flicker of flame, a blur of molten shadow—
Then, it struck.
A massive molten fist slammed downward.
Thalric barely raised his shield in time—
BOOM.
The impact thundered through the street, a shockwave rattling through the cobblestones. The sheer force of it sent Thalric skidding backward, his boots carving trenches into the stone as his knees buckled under the blow.
His shield glowed red-hot, the metal warping under the heat. The air shimmered, his lungs burned from the sudden spike in temperature.
But he stayed standing.
With a grunt of effort, Thalric planted his feet—
And swung.
His warhammer cut through the air in a crushing arc, aiming straight for the Djinn's chest—
Miss.
The Djinn shifted, its body dissolving into smoke, reforming behind him.
Too late.
A fireburst erupted.
The explosion ripped through the street, a wave of heat surging forward. Thalric barely threw himself aside before the flames engulfed the space where he had stood.
His armor sizzled, parts of the metal glowing with dangerous heat. If he took another hit like that—
No. He wasn't thinking about that.
The Djinn's laughter crackled like a bonfire, its voice layered—many echoes, all distorted by heat and flame.
"You think to break fire with steel, dwarf?"
Thalric spat to the side, the motion casual despite the sweat dripping from his brow.
He adjusted his grip on his hammer, rolling his burnt shoulder with a grunt.
"Steel? No." He bared his teeth in a fierce grin. "But I'll break you just fine."
The Djinn erupted into smoke, vanishing—
Only to reappear on the other side of the street, its molten core flaring brighter than before.
It raised both hands—
Flames surged forward in a blazing torrent.
Carts melted.
Wooden beams crumbled into ash.
Even stone warped under the heat.
Thalric braced himself, raising his shield as the firestorm swallowed the street.
The heat was suffocating—his armor was burning against his skin, every movement slower, heavier.
He was outmatched alone.
He gritted his teeth, eyes flicking toward the civilians. Toward Nariel.
"Hurry, knight."
The last cultist crumpled to the ground, her ember-cloaked body still as the light left her eyes.
Nariel stood over her, chest heaving. With one hand she wiped the sweat from her forehead
Around her, the civilians trembled, wide-eyed, staring at the carnage.
She turned, gesturing sharply toward the castle. "Go! Now!"
They didn't hesitate.
The group ran, darting through the burning streets, weaving past wreckage toward the only safe haven left.
Nariel barely had time to catch her breath before a new sound tore through the chaos—a roar. Not human. Something ancient. Something burning.
She snapped her head up, scanning the battlefield—
And her heart clenched at what she saw.
The dwarf.
His shield was glowing red-hot, his boots dragging against the heated stone as he struggled to stay on his feet.
His arms were burned, his breath ragged, his grip on his warhammer still tight but weakening.
And the Djinn—
It loomed over him, fire churning, molten claws reaching forward, ready to strike the final blow.
Nariel moved before she could think.
She ran.
Her sword gleamed with divine energy, the flames reflecting off its silver edge as she charged straight into the inferno.
"Fall back, blacksmith!" she shouted.
Even exhausted, even burned, Thalric still had the audacity to grin.
He wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his arm, shaking off the pain like a man too stubborn to acknowledge he was suffering.
Panting, he braced himself, rolling his injured shoulder with a pained grunt.
"Not happening."
The Djinn let out a crackling growl, lifting its hands. Flames coiled around its molten fingers, heat distorting the air—
It was preparing a fireball.
Not just any fireball.
This one roared like a wildfire, its size massive, the kind of magic meant to end battles in a single strike.
Nariel didn't hesitate.
Her shield flew through the air—
SLAM.
It collided with the Djinn's molten torso, knocking the creature off balance!
The fireball veered off course, launching upward—
BOOM!
It detonated into a ruined building instead of the battlefield, blasting stone and wood into the air—but harming no one, at least no one visible.
Before the Djinn could recover, Nariel followed up.
She raised her sword, divine energy surging through her grip—
A radiant blast erupted forward, dispersing parts of the Djinn's smoke-form, forcing it to solidify!
Thalric coughed, waving away the heat haze.
As Nariel landed beside him, her sword still glowing, she smirked.
"You're too stubborn for your own good, dwarf."
Thalric chuckled, shaking off the pain, despite the burns creeping up his arms.
"And you took your time getting here, knight."
They turned together, eyes locked on the enemy.
The Djinn howled in rage.
But this time, it faced both of them.
The real fight had just begun.
The Djinn's molten form twisted, its flickering body shifting between solid rock and ethereal smoke, constantly adapting to their attacks.
Nariel's eyes narrowed, mind racing.
She had fought creatures of fire and shadow before, but this was different.
This wasn't just a mindless beast—it was intelligent, dodging, phasing, and striking when they were most vulnerable.
She adjusted her stance, light flaring along the edge of her sword.
"It's dodging too easily," she muttered. "We need to force it to stay solid."
Thalric huffed, gripping his warhammer tighter. "And how do we do that?"
Nariel's gaze didn't waver. "My divine energy disrupts fire magic. If I weaken its smoke form, it won't be able to shift."
She nodded at Thalric's weapon. "Once it's tangible, your hammer can break its core."
Thalric smirked. "Now you're speaking my language."
The Djinn shifted, its blazing eyes scanning them, the cracks forming along its molten chest barely slowing it down.
It lifted one claw, fire pooling in its palm—
Thalric moved first.
He feinted, swinging his warhammer toward the Djinn's leg—
The Djinn reacted instantly, shifting into smoke, letting the hammer pass through harmlessly.
A mistake.
Nariel was waiting.
Her blade flashed—
A radiant arc sliced through the mist, disrupting its magic, severing the Djinn's ability to phase.
The Djinn screamed, its body staggering as the divine energy forced it into solid form.
"NOW!" Nariel shouted.
Thalric didn't hesitate.
He gritted his teeth, adjusting his grip, and—
SWUNG.
A brutal downward arc—
His hammer slammed into the Djinn's ribs—
CRACK.
The impact sent molten rock flying, the core within its chest fracturing, liquid fire seeping through the widening cracks.
The Djinn roared, its voice splitting the night like an earthquake.
It lashed out, its rage manifesting in pure destruction—
BOOM!
A fiery explosion detonated outward, a shockwave of embers and molten air.
Nariel barely raised her shield in time, the force knocking her backward—
She slammed against a collapsed building, her ears ringing from the blast.
Thalric wasn't as lucky.
The wave of fire engulfed him, scorching his armor, sending him crashing into a burning cart.
He hit the ground hard, groaning as smoke curled around him, his beard singed.
Through the haze, Nariel pushed herself up, breath ragged.
The Djinn lurched, molten cracks spidering across its body—
But it was still burning.
With a snarl, it slammed both claws into the ground—
A circle of fire erupted around them, sealing them in, cutting off all escape routes.
The heat was suffocating, the air too thick to breathe.
Nariel clenched her teeth. They were running out of time.
She met Thalric's gaze.
They both knew—
This needed to end now.
She charged.
Her boots pounded against the stone, heat licking at her heels.
The Djinn's burning eyes tracked her movement, its body coiling, preparing to strike.
It lashed out—both molten claws swiping at her in a killing blow.
Nariel twisted, parrying the first attack, her shield deflecting the second—
She used the momentum, stepping inside its guard—
And plunged her blade into its shoulder.
Light erupted from the wound, divine energy burning away its magic.
The Djinn screeched, body convulsing, its molten core struggling to hold together.
Nariel held firm, pushing deeper, locking it in place.
Thalric forced himself to his feet, his vision swimming from the heat.
His arms ached, his body burned, but he ignored the pain.
He tightened his grip on the warhammer.
One last charge.
He rushed forward, pushing past the pain, past the heat, past everything—
He swung.
The warhammer met the Djinn's core.
CRACK.
The core fractured—
Then shattered.
A final, unearthly roar tore through the air—
Then, the Djinn's body crumbled—
Collapsing into a pile of fading embers.
The ring of fire flickered, then died, the heat vanishing into the night.
Silence fell.
The only sound left was the distant crackling of the still-burning city.
Thalric exhaled, rolling his burned shoulder.
"I hate fighting things made of fire."
Nariel smirked, wiping sweat from her brow.
"I thought blacksmiths liked playing with fire."
Thalric grunted. "Not when it's trying to kill me."
The embers faded, the heat vanished into the night.
They had won the battle—
But the war for Ignisia wasn't over.
A distant war horn echoed through the burning city.
Nariel exhaled sharply. "This is far from over."
"Aye" Thalric looked at the ruins of his forge, the place he had called home for decades, now swallowed by flames. The steady rhythm of his craft—the clang of metal, the comforting glow of the forge—gone. Swallowed by the same flames that devoured his home. He had chosen this quiet life far from everything. But as the inferno raged around him, the truth settled deep in his bones.
This was the end.
The end of peace, of routine, of the quiet life he had built for himself. The path ahead was uncertain, but one thing burned hotter than the fire consuming his home: Those who set his world ablaze would not live to see another sunrise.