Ep. 15 Into Fire

The descent was brutal. Heat shimmered in waves around me, turning the air into a furnace that scorched my lungs with each breath. Sweat poured from my body only to evaporate almost instantly, leaving a crust of salt on my skin that chafed beneath my robes.

Despite my blessed body—enhanced beyond normal human limitations—I was approaching my breaking point. Fatigue pulled at my limbs like weighted chains, my muscles trembling with each downward step. Hunger gnawed at my stomach, and my tongue felt swollen with thirst, sticking to the roof of my mouth.

"One step," I muttered to myself, the words cracking in my parched throat. "Just one more step."

Hours crept by as I continued my descent down the volcano's treacherous slope. When the terrain finally leveled out into something resembling a plateau, I nearly collapsed with relief. I paused, hands braced against my knees, gulping in air that burned like liquid fire.

My moment of respite was short-lived.

About twenty feet ahead, a figure stood motionless against the backdrop of molten rock and ash. The silhouette was unmistakably human—or at least, it had been once.

What is that? I straightened, squinting through the heats haze. Who would be mad enough to climb this damned volcano? And more puzzling: how had they survived the blistering temperatures that had nearly broken me?

"Hello?" I called out, my voice echoing across the volcanic plateau.

The figure turned slowly, with deliberate, jerky movements that immediately set alarm bells ringing in my mind. I approached cautiously, one hand hovering near the hilt of my sword.

As I drew closer, what I saw made me stop dead in my tracks.

This was no ordinary person. Their skin was a network of deep fissures and cracks, like parched earth after a drought—but instead of emptiness, these cracks wept with molten magma that glowed orange-red against the skin. The creature's eyes were vacant pools of the same molten substance, streaming down its face like tears, lacking pupils or whites—just liquid fire staring back at me.

I halted my approach, instinctive dread freezing my limbs. "A-are you okay?" The question felt absurd even as it left my lips. Whatever stood before me, "okay" was not a word that could possibly apply.

For several heartbeats, the creature just stared, its expression utterly devoid of recognition or humanity. Then, without warning, it threw back its head and unleashed a sound that was part war cry, part tortured scream—a noise no human throat should be capable of producing.

It charged at me with unnatural speed, arms outstretched, magma dripping from its fingertips and scorching the ground wherever it fell.

My hand closed around my sword hilt. "Don't come any closer!" I shouted, a final warning I already knew would go unheeded.

The creature continued its headlong rush, closing the distance between us with frightening rapidity. In the split second before it reached me, a cold certainty settled in my mind: This thing isn't part of the main story. Killing it won't affect my journey.

I drew my blade in one fluid motion, the metal singing as it cleared the scabbard. With practiced precision, I sliced through the creature's outstretched arm, severing it at the shoulder.

There was no blood—only more magma pouring from the wound, splashing onto the ground where it hissed and bubbled. More disturbing still, the creature showed no sign of pain or even acknowledgment of its missing limb. It pivoted with unnatural quickness, its remaining arm swinging toward me in a wild, feral attack.

Magma drool spewed from between its clenched teeth as it lunged, moving with the mindless determination of a predator focused solely on its prey.

I stepped into its attack, meeting savagery with technique. My blade flashed in the volcanic light as I brought it diagonally across the creature's torso with all my strength, cleaving it in two from shoulder to hip.

The separated halves fell to the ground with a wet, sizzling sound. The magma that had animated pooled outward, cooling rapidly in the marginally cooler air away from its host body. The creature lay motionless, silent at last.

I knelt beside the remains, careful to avoid the still-glowing puddles of cooling magma. With practiced movements, I activated my holowatch, its blue light a stark contrast to the red-orange glow surrounding us. I positioned the scanner over the bizarre corpse, waiting for the analysis to complete.

The watch beeped softly, and text scrolled across its holographic display:

The Burning Men - Those unfortunate enough to be burned by the divine lava of the volcano are turned into its apostles for eternity.

I rose slowly to my feet, taking an involuntary step backward from the bisected creature. "What the hell kind of world is this?" I whispered, to no one but the volcano itself.

After a moment, I shook my head, forcing focus back into my thoughts. I had to keep moving. The port city awaited.

I resheathed my sword, the metal still hot from contact with the creature's magma blood, and turned to continue my descent.

I managed exactly one step before the ground beneath my feet began to tremble.

At first, I thought it was a volcanic tremor—not uncommon on the slopes of an active volcano. But then came the sounds: a chorus of groans and moans rising from the earth itself, as though the mountain were giving voice to ancient pain.

The ground before me split open in dozens of places, magma bubbling up through the cracks. But it wasn't just magma emerging from the fissures. Hands reached upward—human in shape but composed of the same cracked, magma-filled flesh as the creature I'd just slain.

One by one, they pulled themselves from the earth, rising like grim harvests from volcanic soil. Their bodies were encrusted with cooled lava and volcanic ash, suggesting they had been dormant for ages, buried beneath the surface until something—perhaps my presence, perhaps my killing of one of their kind—had awakened them.

By the time the last of them had fully emerged, I was surrounded by at least fifteen of the Burning Men. They formed a circle around me, their molten eyes fixed on my position, their postures tense and predatory.

"This isn't good," I muttered, drawing my sword once more.