ORIGIN

Fireheart paced through Polaris, peering up for a moment at the towering shimmer of the Spire. Something was... strange, here; there was a sensation of potential in the air. Was it just Polaris, as usual, or was it something... more?

The white wolf considered, coming to a halt to gaze up thoughtfully at the crystalline structure. He'd always wondered about it, despite the rumors; there were those that said it was a prison, with something trapped within or, perhaps, that it trapped them here, somehow. He didn't understand that, though he thought about it often. Others said it was the source of all magic, or all life; was this simply superstitious veneration, or did it have a grain of truth to it? Fireheart did not know.

He shifted back into motion, padding further in, feeling the warmth of his element--so strong, here.

Warmth shimmered from him in waves, and his already ember-colored eyes took on the bright glow of flame.

Now that is interesting, he thought.

He retained the eye-glow, the heat, and he could feel it emanating off of him as he paced gracefully closer to the Spire.

Fireheart hadn't ever done that, before; he supposed it was a milder version of the other fire magic he'd used, but it was still powerful enough that he took note, a little concerned. He wasn't sure if he could "turn it off," as it were; he hoped it wouldn't suddenly roil out of control and burn him, or the like.

Just in case--to test, and to 'vent' the heat, a little--he concentrated on his paws, trying to let a little of that searing heat out via his extremities.

Nothing happened, at first; and he shrugged this off. If it is not dangerous enough to easily vent from my body, then it must not be intense enough to be dangerous, he reasoned, and his anxiety on it lessened some.

Fireheart's head came up and around, and he blinked, peering for the source of the voice. He spotted the other canine at once, and tilted his head at her inner glow, studying her for a moment. Is she attempting to insult me..? he wondered, briefly; but it did not particularly matter, and anyway, she was being civil enough otherwise.

"Mm. A pleasure to meet you too, I'm sure. Fireheart," he offered, sardonically, inclining his head politely but amusedly. "And yes, it's fire; and no, it does not hurt. I was on my way to look for someone said to be a master of flame," he explained, and turned back to nod at the Spire. "But I'm afraid I was rather distracted by the Spire's power."

Fireheart turned, extending out one paw, and this time his magic flared up: a white-hot glow at his extremities, the stone beneath one paw turning to smoldering ash. "This hurts."

He had little reason to show off, himself; it was a simple enough, and honest, answer. But he was curious about whatever Hargrave had just done. It wasn't something he'd seen, himself. It was somehow reminiscent of what he'd done--making his eyes glow, somewhat--but it was brighter, hotter. "So, tell me--your name, if you wish; but also, what was that magic you were using? I presume that was fire, in turn? Does it cause pain?" he asked, curiously.

He listened, dipping his head at her introduction. "Ahh... do you know this dragon's name? I was told to find 'Dragon,' in Cetus; I hope he is not gone." Was it the same-? He thought that Pride's description of Dragon would have included wings, and black scales--hadn't he said he was some sort of lazy lizard? -Did lizards have wings?

Hm.

His gaze flicked down to Hargrave's extended paw, though nothing came; he shook his own head, a little. "Magic seems a fickle thing, no?" he offered, with humor in his tone. "An inner flame? Hmm." It sounded vaguely like his own magic, but more intense, and he wondered at it. If it were, perhaps, something he himself could learn. After a moment, he stepped back, and turned his head. Jaws opened, and a blast of superheated air boiled forth, shimmering powerfully. He winced, a bit, at the pain of it--and then grimaced again and turned to Hargrave. "That is something else that I know, though I'm unsure how useful it actually is. Your inner light seems far more practical, I'll readily admit; I wonder if I can learn to do the same." A pause, and Fireheart tilted his head in thought, studying the dog. "I wonder--I've no idea how old you are; but have you any idea why some of us know fire, and others do not? I've met those who work with plants, or water; but it seems to be innate, from hatching. Is there some reason for it?"

Fireheart considered, and inclined his head. "Dragon, yes; I believe so. You're welcome to come along with me, if you like--I know the way--though I've no idea if he'll accept either or both of us for any form of teaching." He eyed, then, Hargrave's paws, trying to imagine why such light would not be useful in the dark--but perhaps she hadn't yet found herself in such a situation.

"It does seem a tad divided, I suppose, though I have met those with some overlap. The leader of the Seven--they are a group in Orion, who call themselves guardians, and train in magic--his name is Pride. A white stag. If you are interested in speaking to him, he seems to bear some knowledge of a few various types of magic."

He turned, magic flaring up like a shimmering dome, a shield, held up before him. "Like this--a shield. Hit it, if you like," he explained.

Hargrave's tail waved in the air, and something about her enthusiasm struck Fireheart with a sort of sympathetic, if more distant, joy; his own tail swayed to and fro, for a moment, as he watched. A little more warmed, feeling that he knew this stranger somewhat better, now, he answered her questions. "Pride suggested I seek him out. He strikes me as skilled, but he said he has little knowledge of fire, and apparently this Dragon does." And, regarding the shield--he allowed it to drop, amused. "It's useful, isn't it? He said there is other magic that does similar things, too, other forms of barriers, though he doesn't know them all. He said that he imagines magic can be shaped creatively to any purpose we see fit."

He turned, idle, and nodded to the air; a bright burst of phosphorescent light announced the appearance of a new wisp. This hissed like a brief escape of gas and then quieted, hovering there, flickering with its unearthly glow. "He showed me this, as well. A wisp, a light; I can move it around, and it casts a bit of a glow. It looks like fire, but I am uncertain that it is--it almost feels like it, but without any real heat to it. It doesn't burn," he added, and a nudge of his head sent the wisp dipping down to bob a couple feet from Hargrave, as if in invitation to touch it.

"I'm unsure what to make of it, actually, but I suppose as far as creating light goes, it has its uses. May I ask what you were doing here, if it isn't too rude a question? Do you live here, perhaps-? I know little about this cave, bar the potency of magic, here, if there is anything that you can share," and he tilted his head a little, hopefully.