Cloak and Flame

         The cloaked mage sets another piece of wood on the fire. Tucking his trusty old pointed hat, he prepares for a night's rest. Taking a trip into the forbidden mountains has taken more from him than expected. Flames begin to lap at the logs as his eyes close and exhaustion takes him.

         In the peace of deep slumber, the mage remembers his master speaking to him. “When faced with absolute despair, remember these words, Fire can be a friend so long as you show it respect.” says the teacher holding a small flame in his hand. He continues, “Should you show the flame you mean to bend or force it toward anger, you will certainly lose all control.”

         The flame in his hand shows a house burning, and people screaming in pain. Closing his hand the flame goes out. Upon reopening his palm, an egg rests in its place. “Fire is part of life, in this we must also have an accord with all elements. Only with this can true mastery be obtained.”

         CRASH!! BOOM!! The mage is shocked awake by a blast of wind and thunder exploding in the sky. Rain falls like a wave soaking the small camp and pushing him to pack in a hurry. In a snap and flourish of his right hand, speaking the words “Lux Maximus.” The mages pack rights itself and quickly collects his camp in a flash. Raising his arm an ethereal umbrella of sorts appears above his head, keeping the wind and rain at bay and light shows on the path ahead.

         He steps forward into the path ahead, he knows something must remain of the path he lost some time ago. Runes marked the initial steps at the base of this grand mountain range. Now, only traces of the once-honored path can be found as he pushes closer to the peak. Mount Craven, is named for the black and sliver winged birds that used to call this summit home. Where there were once well-tended nests. One would be lucky to find even a feather now.

         Looking up from the path, something calls out from the stone and shale. A single rune shows marked on the mountainside. The shape is almost invisible to the naked eye apart from one distinct feature. A silver vein or mineral deposit lies within the rune. With the flash of lightning, a glint can be seen showing the rune.

         Approaching the mountainside and touching the cold stone, its shows a curved “S” shape that could’ve been mistaken as a crack or pocket exposed by the mountain. Erosion or natural pressure over time shifts the rock. At this moment, the mage knows what he has found. Pulling from behind his pack, a concealed scrap of parchment. He traces the “S” shape now muttering under his breath a whisper that moves the rock slightly.

         A moment passes and the collected water streaming off the cliffside freezes over and passes into the rune. As the shape takes form, a rough outline of a door is crystallized by the frozen water. At last, as if the stone is singing, a low hum comes from the rock as a silver doorway appears. The mage places a hand on the cool stone, pushing gently, walking inside the mountain passage. The door closes behind him, frozen water dissolves leaving only the glint of silver in the stormy mountain air.