"I remember being in love hurt, it was terrifying. Knowing that everything you had before, have now, and will have in the future is completely reliant on another soul. That kind of love is dangerous. Dangerous to yourself, and, as many people discovered about me, dangerous to others."
A log on the campfire cracked with the hat and sent sparks flying into the air, with a casual wave of his hand the halfling compressed the sparks together and let them bloom like a firework. His mastery over all things fire had begun a long time ago, and the journey was not yet complete.
"I came from a town that had a pride in their college, their institute of learning they called it. They believed they were open minded, ready to look at the logic and reason of a situation before acting. It only took one accident to turn a number of normally peaceful students and teachers into a crazed mob.
I met her there, you know, in one of our first ever classes. Dull it was, I can barely remember it now, something to do with how to remember things. Ironic really, forgetting the name of that class. Our love was full of passion, we were consumed by it. And we revelled in each other's success at our learning, both of us aiming to become Court Bards, learning to recite the great tales in High Chant, dreaming lofty dreams of performing for kings.
Our love ended, as all things do, in blood."
He took a swig from the jack of ale next to him, his eyes didn't sparkle with the magic this time, instead it almost looked like they sparked, like a flame trying to catch some dry tinder.
"She was on a stage at a nearby tavern, we'd gone on our honeymoon you see, and she was telling the tale of Sir Robert the Strong and his defeat of the Dread Necromancer. Little did we know, that this particular tale had roots of truth in the area, particularly with one family who claimed to be descended from the necromancer and claimed it was a false witch hunt. I learned this in great detail later, after they let me out of prison the first time.
This lad, the one who took offence, stood up in the build up to the climax of the tale and yelled out an insult. Now, these are nothing new to those in our profession, hecklers come in all shapes and sizes, most often simply trying to bring a joke to the crowd. But this particular fellow, he threw his mug at her which left a great gash on her face. She cried out, a mix of pain, anguish and terror. At the very same time i stood from my spot at the back and yelled at him. What i said at the time was drowned in my true love's cry, what was strange though was the surge of energy i felt within my words.
The lad, and he was a lad, no more than 15 summers of age, burst into flames."
Tommy leaned back and drained the last of his drink, wetting his now dry throat, it was clear this time that his eyes had the beginnings of a fire within them.
"Now, given that my love had released her cry of terror at the same time as my fiery insult, the crowd believed it was her being some sort of witch that had burned him. They turned on her, grabbing her with intention on taking her to the town square to be hung, the body burned, and the ashes scattered in running water, such as a creek. Evidently this was their pagan belief on how to defeat evil.
Fortunately, or so i thought at the time, the local Lord intervened, demanding that a trial be had before any executions took place. Unfortunately, the trial was a farce, nothing more than an opportunity for the Lord to further solidify his own authority in the town.
When i found out the ruling given, i began to try to fight to get her free. I grabbed a sword from a nearby guard and ran towards my love swinging wildly as i went. A sharp thump on the back of my head make me see nothing but black for some time.
I awoke the next day inside a cell, somewhat disoriented. It took a few hours for all the memories to come back to me, for whoever struck me had done so with a great deal more force than was required. Apparently though, in my wild swinging i had cut his friend's leg and he was angered.
While i was trying to sort out the jumbled memories a smell of roasting meat reached my nose and my empty stomach began to gurgle. I called to the guard to ask what was being cooked for lunch and they laughed at me and said 'Why it's that Witch friend of yours'.
The memories, they flooded back in and i felt something die within me. Almost as though a limb had been removed. For a moment i was prepared to check my torso for an obvious hole. How could this happen, i thought to myself?"
He stood up from his log near the fire and went over to fetch another drink. Whilst walking back he said, "I'll spare you the story of me trying to deal with my initial grief and time in that cell. Suffice to say that they kept me in there for 6 months for interfering with the course of justice." Sitting back down he took another long pull of his drink and leaned forward to carry on the tale.
"When i got out i quickly learned that asking any questions about her remains was going to end badly, so i started lying. Nobody there knew we were married, such was the quick trial and execution. Instead, i learned names. The name of the lad i set on fire, he lived, though with some serious scarring, i learned the name of his family. I learned the name of the lord, and the names of his family. I had a plan for revenge.
Unfortunately, i was a storyteller, not an assassin and so my plans were based on the great tales i told, the heroes and their epics. I knew nothing of the gory details or just how much blood could be contained in a single person. My first and only victim was the Lord's wife. It seemed fitting to start with her. I created an elaborate plan involving a massive distraction and a kidnapping, but it all went wrong from the very first step. The distraction never worked like i thought it would, and me being a halfling had no actual strength to grab a 5 and a half foot human woman. I panicked and cut her throat.
The blood, i'll never forget that warm feeling of it pouring down my chest, the salty taste of it as it sprayed into my mouth."
He grimaced and made the fire dance into some shapes, a woman clutching at her throat as she fell to the ground, a halfling cowering in fear of a handful of guards. The images flickered in and out of existence, telling the next part of the story in a rapid series of images, burning themselves into the retina.
"The Lord decided that execution was too good for me. It turns out he had some connections with less than reputable characters and sold me into slavery. Given my size and the predilection of carnal desires a certain number of the sailors had my journey was less than enjoyable. That went on for months before our ship was boarded by pirates, the crew of our ship, being regularly drunk and useless were no match for hardened raiders. Raiders that oddly had a negative view towards slavery. They freed me, and i spent the next few months sitting in the crows nest. I always wanted to be away from people at the time, and the fresh air was always a joy.
One day i spotted land, an unchartered island. We weighed anchor in an alcove and made our way ashore. Little did we know the island was inhabited by a rather vicious tribe of cannibals. The crew was captured piece by piece as we never stayed together, and it was days before we even figured out there was a threat. There was another halfling on the ship with me, though we didn't really talk to each other much, and it seems the natives weren't sure what to make of us so they kept us chained up till the end.
It was the last day for us, or so we thought, till a bunch of bedraggled looking mercenary types wandered into the camp covered in blood. Evidently they had slaughtered most of the tribesmen. They freed us, and we've been with them ever since."
Tommy looked around the fire, wondering how the story would be taken. He bowed his head and got ready for the final part.
"That was somewhat long winded, i know. But you had to know that part, for you already know the rest. You see, i have a fire within me. A burning desire for vengeance, the cost of which does not bother me. I was ready to forget about my past life, but the atrocities that happened in this land renewed the spark. That time in the dungeon gave it fuel. And the final showdown did not quench this thirst, it only seemed to convert it into an everlasting flame.
I know i'll probably never see that town again, or if i do, half the people i had planned on killing are already dead or won't even remember who i am. But it's ok you see, because i have found love again, only this time it burns, because it's a love of fire, and the desire to burn anything that stands in my way.
And i want to know, will you burn them with me?"
As he finished this line he stood, waiting on the reaction of his audience. The single flame elemental flowed in and out of the campfire, his only audience for this speech. It looked toward him and spoke. It's voice was the crackle of logs, the roar of an inferno, inflected with high notes like sparks striking off a piece of flint.
"I WILL JOIN WITH YOU ON THIS PATH IF YOU SO DESIRE. BUT KNOW THIS MORTAL, ONCE BEGUN, THE PROCESS CAN NOT BE ENDED."
The halfling's stance became firm, he stood straight and tall, his voice loud and clear with no hint of hesitation.
"I accept the bargain, let your essence become mine."
The campfire began to whirl, forming a tornado of coal and flame, the air around the site flowed with the flames. The logs that had been used as seats crumbled into ash and melded with the inferno. The sound was unbearable, Tommy tried to stand tall but could not resist attempting to cover his ears. He was unable to breathe as the very oxygen from his lungs was ripped out to fuel this ritual. The coals were no more, his clothes were no more, everything had gone to feed the fire eternal, the sound grew into a cacophony so immense it could be heard leagues away.
At last, he thought he could bare it no more, he opened his mouth to scream his last breath when the twisting tower of fire pivoted and poured in, scalding his very flesh and yet it filled his body with energy. In what felt like hours but was in fact mere seconds everything within a radius of a few metres that could be burned was. Except for Tommy. He stood naked, but not afraid, no longer afraid. The camp fire had gone out, it was dark now, but he had no need of light, for the fire in his eyes was bright.