The Return to Necia

[Weeta]

Just when Weeta thought she would explode from the pressure and the fire that was raging inside her, she remembered ... water.

With another terrified cry, she reached out instinctively to any source of water that she could. Fountains nearby surged their marble edges, and their contents soared into the air, entering the Oratorium in a giant wave that splashed mightily over Weeta and everything near her.

She collapsed off the horse, coughing and choking, the steam rising off of her still hot enough to scald.

[Ariadne Fyrian]

The sudden rush of water knocked her to her knees, but Ariadne doggedly slogged through the deluge. Her horse had fled the moment Weeta was on the ground, racing like a madbeast from hell itself through the great archway that led outside.

There was no room for thought as she skidded on her knees to stop at Weeta's crumpled figure. Steam rose like serpents to burn and scald her skin, and the Glaucan cried out as she grabbed a hold of the Mer's shoulder. Yet she persisted, feeling as the skin of her hands blistered, and without thought she moved to bundle Weeta in the sopping linen cloth that she'd been using as a cloak.

The heat began to dissipate, ever so slowly, and before long Fyrian found herself huddled in the center of the Oratorium, Weeta in her arms. Both were soaked to the bone, but the water had done well to quell the heat coming from the Mer's body.

Fyrian dipped her head so that it nearly touched Weeta's. Little Weeta.

She held on tightly, whispering soft words.

"I'm here."

[Csephion Draxus]

There were those among the throng who held allegiance to Igneon, God of fire, and those men hurried forward to brace against the onslaught, buying time until the Mages could arrive. They worked valiantly, but the fire affinity within the lantern was no trifle, and even the Fire Academy contained it with some difficulty.

Draxus took the Glaucan girl in his refuge, drawing back from the flame as there was nothing for him to do.

Through the halo of fire that dominated the forefront of the Oratorium, Draxus could see a group of red-robed men being hurried into the building. They joined the masses against the outpouring of fire, and with their aid, it began to subside.

[Erifa Nimshi]

Huddled against Draxus, Erifa watched from behind his robes as the Fire Mages worked to calm the powers within Weeta. She gasped at the sight of Fyrian and the Mer, both drenched with the water that the Mer had called to her. Emboldened, the little Glaucan whispered words to Denetion, and she slowly came from behind Draxus to solidify her hold on the cooling liquid that had settled.

She whispered sweet, pleading words to the waters, causing them to pool around the two in the middle of the Oratorium. Anything to keep the heat and volatile fire affinities from consuming them.

She still leaned into Draxus however, not wishing to leave his presence just yet. Her hands she kept close to her chest, driving the burning sensation away into the back of her mind as she continued to call upon Denetion.

[Weeta]

Weeta moaned, pushing Ari away as the fire mages circled in around them. Stupid Necians!

Her natural ability with water struggled against the more powerful fire magic that was raging inside her, and she was suddenly sick, throwing up the scant contents of her stomach. Weeta crabbed to the side a little, limbs jerking unevenly as she tried to move away from crouching mages, and then passed out.

[Ariadne Fyrian]

What could she do?! Helplessly the Glaucan looked up at the Fire Mages that now surrounded her and the now-unconscious Weeta. Scrambling away, Fyrian scrabbled backwards across the wet stones, the water cooling her burned hands. She stumbled upwards to her feet, continuing to back away. Cradling her hands close, Fyrian suddenly found herself unable to watch, and she turned away, her eyes falling upon both Draxus and Erifa.

Fyrian stood, feeling suddenly helpless in the midst of the Necian dragon that she'd so desperately ridden to meet head on.

Her features twisted, and unable to look at the Phressian Satrap, she turned back to stare at the circle of Necian Mages surrounding Weeta.

[Csephion Draxus]

With the pressing threat of immolation now passed, Draxus and other Satraps cautioned to the epicenter of the incident.

"This Mer woman is afflicted by the Lantern itself."

One of the mages looked puzzled at this.

"We must return her and the lantern to the Academy at once!"

Draxus nodded.

"I think the pressing emergency at present usurps decorum."

The chairman agreed, and called for a dismissal of the day's session.

Draxus gestured at one of the many hangers-on near the doorway leading outside.

"Fetch me a horse!"

He glanced back to Fyrian, hoping to steal some inflection from her expression that would lend meaning to this bizarre turn of events.