Editing BW XXIV - Lan Zi

Fire was all around, the heat was almost unbearable, yet he stood his ground. Could he not see, had he not seen the power that threatened to engulf him?  The power of the Plane…

Lanzi saw immediately the danger as it was brought to him on hot, imagined air.  The smoke, the heat and the raging inferno that was almost at the man’s feet, would have been enough to cinder a mortal.  But this was no ordinary human.  Lanzi recognised the aging wizard – it was Lastar that stood on the edge of destruction, unperplexed.  The old man stared relentlessly into the fire beneath him, muttering some ancient ode or riddle that he might pass the gulf of fire that barred his path.  Lanzi could just make out an archway, carved into the solid rock opposite Lastar but about two hundred feet away.  The old warlock looked up, raising his thick white eyebrows which seemed to point like stunted fingers towards the arch.  His face cracked into a knowing smile as he uttered the last elfish word, “Fereniol”.  The fire diminished and the smoke cleared as a path was formed across the lava flow, a path which did not fail against such heat and pressure.  

Lanzi’s mind rushed, trying not to disturb the vision, which he knew to be brought to him by the spirits, whilst he tried desperately to gain more understanding.  He felt giddy and light headed; the smell of sulphur was quite real and his body reacted to the imagined heat leaving him in a pool of sweat. The spirits were all around, wreathed in smoke and laughing wickedly.  They rose from the fire, swooped past Lastar and appeared to hover just behind the old wizard, looking towards Lanzi in recognition of a fellow spirit or so Lanzi thought.  The Arch-Mage, adorned with all seven parts of the Crown of Kings, lent heavily on his metal staff as he crossed the gulf of fire.  The dark stone atop the staff, held in place by the talons of an eagle’s claw wrought from solid gold, glimmered coldly – stark against the searing background.     

Suddenly the void of the arch was filled by an enormous Efreet, whose skin resembled a coal fire that burned deeply from within. “To what do I owe this pleasure, Mage?” the Efreet’s voice boomed as if an entire building had suddenly bust aflame. 

“You will have an interest in something precious to the Prime.” Lastar’s voice was flat, matter-of-fact and not at all intimidated by the enormous fiery creation ahead of him.

“Your words make no sense.  I have no interest in the Prime, nor will I…” The Efreet’s voice belied his curiosity.

“Ahh, but you will, I have seen it.  More interest than you will ever care to disclose, Sultan.”  Lastar stood his ground in the face of flame, heat and power of will.

“Is this some game you employ, to wrong-foot me at the time when we might go to war.”  The fiery eyes look down for a brief moment, signifying doubt, upon which Lastar capitalised, 

“Lord of the Plane of Fire, you will be persuaded to take something from the Prime which you should not.  Later you will lose what you hold dear and risk everything to gain what you have lost.”  The Arch Mage held the Efreet’s burning gaze.

“What are you talking about, Mage,?” the Efreet was incandescent with rage, “What would I risk everything for, only to have it taken from me?  You make no sense!”

“Ahh…A women my friend; a women more beautiful than all within your world, or others for that matter.”  Lastar smiled, “She will entrap your heart and soul forever!”

“HAHAHAH!”  The Efreet’s laughter was deafening. “What makes you so sure that one of your kind could ever take my heart?”

“She is marked; chosen of the Prime to transcend Planes and time.  She is one of our folk beyond your ken and reasoning who will be immortal – linking the Prime with the other worlds.  You know of the Prophesies from which I speak!  Now you know that it is your interest that this flower will spark…” Lastar’s eyes were combative, testing the Efreet’s power yet suggesting its futility.

“Yes, Mage, I know of the Prophesies but they do not concern me.  Nothing save the fiery destruction of the Prime will gain my interest.  You know of what Prophesies I speak!”  The Efreet’s gestures became increasingly confrontational and the air around Lastar burned brightly.

“You speak of Ragnarak, but without much understanding or conviction, Sultan.  The one you will fall for, together with the others of her kind, will prevent Ragnarak; not that they will know this to be their life’s goal.  You will fool yourself for a while; you will consider putting her to death, but no…You are destined to love and to lose.  There are others amongst your kin who will lead better, who will bring balance, but that is not your destiny.  When your emissary to the Prime is defeated and it becomes a slave to another power, you will lose control.”

“What could you possible know, mortal!  Our emissary is the most powerful serpent the Prime has ever seen.  What words are these – to unbalance us as war grows near?  Be gone, most arrogant of the unwanted, bastard race!”