Loncast's Diary Entry Essay: The Mysterious Fire

Crackling and sputtering, the scarlet fire gorged itself on yellow grass and piles of bodies, leaving trails of blackened meat and soil while metallic smelling smoke billowed to the clouds. Among the increasingly hellish terrain knelt a bloodied and charred man, practically cooked in his suit of metal armor. Even as steam surged from his melted skin and the soupy remains of his eyes dripped down his face, he still drew breath.
“You would rather die than save your daughter?” A robed figure asked, looming over the man with fists full of fire. “Perhaps I've misjudged you, Loncast. I assumed your Edicts to be absolute and thereby honored you with a death equal to your men. Now I must slay you in a different manner, one befitting a traitor of his
Despite the effort, however, the last of his strength drained away and his arms fell at his side limply. The sound of retreating footfalls brought a smile to Loncast's tortured face.
“Damn you,” the figure spat weakly and drew a knife. “I will be rid of you!”
Loncast's breathing stopped as blood filled his lungs, a jagged blade in his neck, damming the flow. Mouth open and spurting, he tilted his face to the morning sky and died standing. As the corpse of Devrun Loncast fell, his daughter, Theia Loncast, awoke in her
Now please, leave me be.”
Before Theia could respond, her mother buried herself deeper into the Bostlkin covers. Frustrated, she turned and walked back down the hallway and into the kitchen, stopping take a final bite of last night's Broiled Forta and to slip on her travel boots, before heading out the door.
The pillars of sunlight charging through the thick ivory clouds did little to actually warm the air and Theia found the morning to be unusually chilly. Thankfully, she had thought to grab her Bostlkin overcoat in case of midday rains and the thick fabric insulated her well enough. Despite the weather, the slush of the sea and the creak of the nearby docks calmed her nerves and brought memories of her father. Come home soon, she thought.
Letting out a cloudy breath as she gathered her hair into a high-ponytail, Theia strode down the small sandy beach behind her house to the largest wooden dock of three. She smiled as she climbed its steps and found her father's favorite dock worker sitting on the edge with a large fishing pole. As she approached, he jumped up and twisted around, the look of horror on his face amusing her to no