Death and pride

The marshes-

The burning marshes-

Although Theo thought of those as marshes- they weren't exactly marshes.

Just pockets of lava surrounded by black rock.

Endless.

And it was hard to tell if the rocks were really solid and could hold his weight or not.

Who knew how deep the magma ran-

And those awfully bubbly bits of lava weren't helping to calm him down either. 

He couldn't tell if it was day or night.

He couldn't tell if there was any light here either other than- just the redness-

No sign of life so far and no breeze.

Just hot- burning wind.

Hell.

And in a literal sense too.

All alone, left to burn- if this wasn't hell, then he didn't know what was.

Every step felt like he was inching closer to death-

Endless- hell.

Almost all hair on his body were singed and quite a significant portion of his skin was burned.

Thanks to his spell- Tenacity- he was still kicking.