Disclaimer: KingsIsle owns everything presented here. Obviously.

Disclaimer 2: It occurred to me recently that I should probably make this known. My characters, for the purposes of this story, are around college age. I view Ravenwood as more of a high school/college sort of institution, even though the game constantly calls the students 'kids' and 'children'. This view is because I try to bring game worlds I write about to life, and having Ravenwood as a college nicely covers many things. Such as why everyone can read and do math without taking such classes. It also nullifies the slightly disturbing notion that the faculty and staff of Ravenwood, Pigswick, and probably Dragonspyre once, are all more than willing to put children into dangerous situations, rather than handle the dangers themselves. I am also of the opinion that taking on Malistaire took a few years, not a few weeks. These views make the subject matter of this fanfic a little more appropriate for the characters than if I was using 14 year old wizards. I realized some folks might like to know this, and I couldn't think of how to present this in-story without it seeming terribly contrived and out of place.

Author's Intro: I would like to explain a few things before one begins the reading of this story. First off, you will not find explicit Wizard nooky in this fanfic, at all. While such adult themes will be playing a massive part in the plot, they are not important enough to detail. Rather, this is an exploration into the effects of love and its various complex emotions on a Wizard's magical abilities. Specifically on Pyromancers, who are a passionate breed. It is a dramatic, and hopefully deep, adventure into the emotional side of the Spiral, which is often untouched. It is rated M because it will be dark and deadly, not sweet and cheery.

While this story involves my characters (Talon Skullflame, Kane Darksword, and Miguel Spellblade) and my lady's (Rowan, Tasha, and Alia) from the Adventurum series, this story is not part of that series. Namely because this story is not short or sweet, but long and wicked. But also because it takes place well after any of the Adventurum stories. However, I most certainly think you ought to read the Adventurum nonetheless, as events from there may receive cameo mentions.

And now, I would like to invite you to join me in an exploration of love triangles, lust, jealousy, and what happens when one loses control...

The Fire Within

Talon Skullflame was an excitable, childish sort of fellow who never could stop seeking out fun, or control his impulsive behavior; the sort of guy who always seemed to stumble into trouble, or mess something up unintentionally. A cheerful, energetic pyromancer with a branching interest in theurgy, who once saw good in everything and everyone, even the worst people; the sort of man who kept anger under control through optimism, humor, and a touch of naivety.

Until tonight.

Tonight, Talon and his five 'friends' –Miguel Spellblade, Tasha Stormcaller, Alia Sunsword, Kane Darksword, and Rowan Skulldreamer- were staying over at the girls' childhood home in Grizzleheim. The owner of the estate, a land baron by the name of Stag Stormsword, was the father of the twins, Alia and Tasha. Their older sister's father was Roderick Skulldreamer, but from what Talon could understand from Rowan's storytelling, he died when she was born. Their mother, Marie Suncaller, had eventually remarried and had the twins, but while the girls got used to Rowan's uniqueness early on, Talon could tell that even now, Stag was not entirely comfortable around his necromancer step-daughter.

Talon completely understood why; there was something unnatural about Rowan that made the Life energies within him uneasy. But he just couldn't stay away from her, even when he wanted to. Since the day he met that mysterious girl and set his eyes on her softly tanned skin, raven black hair and gorgeous emerald eyes, he'd been in love. A furious, burning love that consumed him like the flames he claimed dominion over. An unrequited love, for there was just one problem with this tall, dark, and beautiful creature.

She was undead.

According to Rowan, she had technically never even been born, therefore had never even lived. She was a stillbirth, taken by Death himself before she could even take her first breath. Her father was a powerful necromancer and –unwilling to let go of his first child so easily- had struck a deal with Death; his soul for her life. Death agreed, of course, but as was typical of such stories, her father had not been specific enough in their agreement. Death did revive Rowan, true, but not to full life. Instead she had become a sort of perfect undead, a being of death that would grow and mature like any child, never rotting or showing her lack of life in any physical manifestation. She didn't need to eat, sleep, or even breathe, and only did so to ease those around her. Ectoplasm ran through her veins, not blood, and her skin was like ice. Upon reaching maturity, she would never age, never die of natural causes, but be eternally beautiful.

Of course, when Talon first learned of her 'condition', it set his nerves on edge. But she was a good friend by then, and they had fought together against Malistaire's forces in many a battle. He felt he could get past that, somehow, and love her still. And while it still occasionally bothered him, he had managed to put that little problem aside.

But this… no, there was no getting past this. Not a second time.

The first time had been different. A sort of boyfriend-swap between the two sisters, Alia taking Talon and Rowan taking Kane, for reasons only the girls knew. At the time, Talon went through with it for only two reasons, and two reasons alone; Alia had him tied to a bed, and Rowan had agreed to it. But it still hadn't sat well in his heart. He had assumed that was the first –and only- time such a swap would occur, so devotedly avoided Alia's advances afterward.

Foolishly, he had assumed Rowan and Kane had done so as well. But as he walked down the hall towards the room graciously provided by Rowan's parents during the night, he passed by Rowan's old room, hearing a soft, distinctive sound. Until he had heard that sound, his world had been simple, a happy world where good always won.

How could she do this to me?! He wondered as he heard them, anger flickering up inside him, licking at the once strong core of hope and trust he had held towards his two friends. He worked so hard to show her that she was more than an emotionless husk of dead flesh, to show her joy and love and compassion, prove to her that she was more beautiful than her undead status implied, and this was how she repaid him.

Talon's anger took control, but not overwhelmed him; not yet. He forced himself to concentrate, to not barge in and make a scene. That would be the foolish thing to do, and his foolishness caused this. If he hadn't been so naïve, he would have known, would have seen the signs, and could have done something. But now…

Now he was going to make them pay, little by little. He was going to fill them with regret for what they had done to him. And it would start with a warning; simple, plain, and everlasting.

With a finger glowing orange with heat, Talon carefully touched the wooden door to Rowan's room, and proceeded to write upon its surface. He concentrated hard on ignoring the noises coming from the other side, focusing instead on his work.

In just a few short minutes, he was done, and stepped back to inspect his work with a grim satisfaction that was unusual for the pyromancer. Pleased with his message, he turned away, but not to his room. Rather, he headed back the way he came, and then left the house through the back door silently, walking with quiet determination through the gardens.

Marie was a Marleybonian woman, and made a point of bringing some culture to the untamed wilds of Grizzleheim. To that end, the estate looked like a piece of Marleybone dropped into the heart of a frigid pine forest. Talon only stopped to look back when he reached the back of the grounds. A few lights were on, but from this distance, he could not tell if his work was discovered.

Turning back to the wilds, Talon's shoulder blades began to burn, tongues of fire growing out of his back. The twin gouts of flame expanded before Talon crouched and then launched himself into the air. With a single powerful beat, the flames withered away, leaving fiery orange scales in their wake. Hovering for only a moment, Talon beat his draconic wings again, ascending over the estate walls and into the forest beyond.

Since he knew they would come looking for him, Talon made sure to leave scorch marks intermittently throughout the forest, a false trail to keep them busy. He wanted to be alone for awhile, preferably a long while. After an hour or so of travel, he touched down on the ground, uttering a single word. In a flash of fire he was gone, retreating to his own tree house refuge for the solitude he so desired.

Eventually they would find the message. And Talon made sure they would not quickly forget it, either, for with a precision more careful than he had ever been in his life, he had scorched the surface of that door with two words. The scorching was not deep in the wood, but he made sure that it was deep enough that scrapping the charred layer off would result in the slightest of indents in the wood. Indents that, in the right light at the right angles, would reveal those two words for as long as that door remained in that house.

I KNOW