A young unicorn hurtles frantically forward, hiking over one slope and away from a Lacinus village, then scrambling down the other side without even breaking stride. At first he can hear nothing beyond the pounding of his own blood in his ears, then a long, low howling fills the night. Behind him, he hears the loping of running wolves, snapping and howling, and he fancies he can feel their hot breath against the back of his neck.

The little unicorn, too scared out of his wits – and not yet out of breath – to think of keeping quiet right now, shrieks for all he's worth, "DON'TEATME DON'TEATME DON'TEATMEEEEEEEEEE!" and scamper-scrambles for all he's worth in what he hopes is still the direction away from the village. "HELLLLLP!"

In his headlong flight, the terrified apprentice trips over a rock, and sprawls forward on his stomach, screaming.

He manages to get his hands out in time to catch himself, and glances over his shoulder as he tries to scramble back to his feet. The eyes of the pack of canines loping towards him seem to glow red as they close in on the fallen runner, forming a semi-circle around him, jaws parted for the kill. As he tries to regain his feet, suddenly the largest, meanest, most vicious of them all leaps to the fore!

Alas, Rory was never taught the least bit about personal defense, even as much as he has play-acted being a brave and heroic knight, so the best he can think of is to curl himself up into a ball, flinging as much of the cloth of his robes over himself as he can manage, in the hopes that maybe one of the monsters will get a mouth-full of his robes and not like the taste of it, and leave him alone. Or maybe somehow the taste of a mage's robes is anathema to evil shape-shifting dogs from the nether realms.

But instead of jumping for his throat, the giant canid only interposes his body between that of the boy and the pack. Turning on his fellows, the were-Lacinus snarls at them, snapping his jaws as one or the other tries to circle around the big animal to get to Rory. After a few efforts by various members to bypass their leader, the pack seems to calm, if a little sulky. At the barks from the big canine, they slowly turn from their quarry and head towards the forest. A few of them cast backwards glances, but turn quickly away at warning growls from the giant.

Mage Canticle approaches, panting. "Rory?" he calls out on spotting the unicorn, but he pauses at the sight of the massive Lacinus, still interposed between Rory and the village. Having chased off the rest of his pack, the canine swivels his great head about to gaze at Rory with strangely lucid eyes.

The little unicorn, upon seeing that perhaps he's not going to be torn to shreds after all, is nonetheless still quite frightened out of his senses, and keeps himself curled up, burying his face in his floppy sleeves – partially to shut out the outside world, and partially to hide the fact that, though he figures he's supposed to be too old for such things, he's presently dampening them with his tears.

The wolf-like beast lowers his head, looking almost … abashed? He makes a whuffling noise, backs a few paces away, then turns to lope after his pack, leaving the raccoon to approach the young unicorn alone. "Rory?" Canticle hurries to the boy's side as the canid departs. "Are you all right?"

The unicorn can't think of a way to answer that question with a simple "yes" or "no" without being misleading. "I'm … I'm not hurt," he says. "Am I safe? They're not going to eat me?"

The mage kneels beside Rory, patting the boy on the back awkwardly. "No, I don't think so. I think they just got … carried away. Their leader was talking to them, saying, 'Have you lost your senses?' and 'This is our guest! Leave him be!' I'm not sure. Perhaps they had the instinct to chase when you ran? For a moment after you bolted they all just stood there, then some of them took off after you." Canticle sighs heavily after loosing the torrent of words, and Rory can see that the older mage is shaking a little himself.

Rory takes a moment to ponder over this, and then recalls all the things he was told not to do when faced with a grok. "Oh," he says. "I'm … I'm sorry. I … I didn't mean to cause any trouble. I … uhm … " For the life of him, he can't think of anything worthwhile to say about the situation, so he just digs into his robes, pulls out a handkerchief, gives his nose a good blow … then slowly and shakily rises to his hooves, head low. "I'll … uhm … be more careful."

Canticle helps him up, circling an arm around the boy's shoulders for support and patting him again. "Don't be so hard on yourself, now. I'd've been tempted to run myself, really. That was … uh … very spooky." He pats his free hand against his own chest. "Whoof. Quite a scare." He looks in the direction of the village, hesitant.

The unicorn shakes a bit. "I should have told you … sooner. I'd heard about it before … just … never saw it. I … uh … sometimes get play-pretend things mixed up with real things."

The older mage nods soberly. "I've noticed. You should learn to remember the difference between what you believe, and what you know." He looks at the sky again. "Then again, so should we all, and most of us don't have the excuse of being young."

At last, Rory recalls that – oh yes! – they're on a mission. "Uhm … did you learn anything? You know, from them? About the hedge wizard?"

The raccoon smiles at Rory, and nods. "Quite a lot, though I'm not sure how useful it will be. Let's … ah … find somewhere to sleep, and I'll tell you all about it."

Rory leans against Canticle, hugging him about the middle. "Thanks for rescuing me. Or, you know, coming running and all that." He then tags along with the mage, following his lead.

Although he seems to have a few misgivings about it, Canticle opts to take advantage of the Lacinus' offered hospitality. When they get back to the village, they find the remaining canids sacked out in a heap in one corner of the tent, snoring away, save for one who shovels dirt over the coals of the fire with her paws.

After peeking warily into the tent, the raccoon sits next to the embers by the hearth, and pats the ground beside him for Rory. "We won't wake them out here with our conversation," he tells the unicorn. "Now, let me tell you what I found out about our hedge wizard. They call her 'The Daughter of Flame' and seem to revere her as a goddess." The raccoon next makes a bark-snap-growl sound that is uncannily like the Lacinus language, " – says that his grandfather told stories of when the 'Fire God' came to the forest. He demanded tribute of the Lacinus villagers – which includes this group and three others, from what I can tell – mostly in the form of harvested wood and food. They bring these sacrifices directly to the god's home, a place they call 'Crucible Rock.' According to – " a snapping growl, distinctly different from the earlier sound even to Rory's untrained ears, " – the Fire God had also asked for Lacinus sacrifices."

The unicorn's eyes widen. "And Snapping-Growl said that they refused, right? Right?" Despite his recent encounter, he still shudders in horror at the thought of any of the Lacinus being sacrificed.

The other mage shakes his head. "We-ell. According to the Lacinus, they've pretty much always done what the Fire-God asked. But… " He pauses, tilting his head to one side. "I'm not exactly convinced that SnappingGrowl's tale about that is true. Sometimes people make things up, or exaggerate things that did happen, until what really happened is forgotten. And Barksnapgrowl said that their tribe had never offered a Lacinus sacrifice to the Fire God or his Daughter. Several seasons ago, the Fire God had ordered an elderly Lacinus woman from the tribe into his service, but Barksnapgrowl said she was not harmed, and seemed happy enough in her new duties. She came back to visit periodically. Snappinggrowl said that the Fire God killed her eventually; Barksnapgrowl seems more of a mind that she died of natural causes."

Rory frowns. "So … we have conflicting stories. Oh swell." He rests his chin on his hands and makes a raspberry noise. "But we do know that … uh … 'Daughter' went poof on a whole village. Do they know anything about that part?"

"You always get conflicting stories, whenever you ask anyone about anything. I bet that even Silhouette would not have reported the same things about the village that you did, when I asked you to scout," the mage notes.

The unicorn's ears droop at the remembrance of his … creative report of the village.

"Any road, yes, I've got something more on that," Mage Canticle continues. "The Fire God asked one other thing of the Lacinus tribes: every eight seasons, he would order them to abandon their homes and settle elsewhere. For the next sixteen seasons, the ground they had previously lived on would become 'Cursed Land' and they would be forbidden to touch it. Their erstwhile homes would be burned to the ground by the Fire Serpent.

"This seems to be what we witnessed through my spell. Barksnapgrowl didn't want to talk about the incident, or why he resisted leaving. All he would say is that 'It is not for Lacinus to question the will of gods. I was wrong. The Daughter was merciful.'"

"How strange," the unicorn apprentice comments. "That sounds like something magical. Or religious. Or both. I don't know anything about fire magic. Is there anything symbolic about having to move around like that?"

"I don't know. I do know that a lot of primitive people move their homes periodically – usually at the change of seasons, but some will stay in one place and then leave when the hunting gets harder or there's less to be gathered up. Or they'll have some reason like the Lacinus – that the gods or another omen dictates they should leave now. This is the first time I've ever seen it actually enforced by a living god, though," the mage admits.

Rory nods, doing his best to remember classes he had at the college. "Sometimes, myths like that have a basis in … uhm … practical reasons. Like, say, I think I heard that farmers rotate crops because the earth gods want it that way, or something like that. If I were an earth mage, I guess I'd know more about that. Any road, I guess the point is that there was supposed to be a good reason for doing that, actually, gods aside, but I don't remember what it was, and it's kind of irrelevant to say that it's a myth, when you have the actual god right there telling you to do thus-and-such."

"Though," Rory says, "I think it's kind of strange that the Lacinus have a god that looks like a human. You don't see too many of those in Lamu."

The raccoon nods in agreement. "I doubt very much he is, or was, a god, though it would hardly be politic to say so to the Lacinus. The Fire God 'ascended' or 'left' – privately, I think he just plain died, but again I wouldn't say as much to our friends here – five seasons ago, leaving his daughter in his place. She appears to be our hedge wizard, and has assumed her father's place and role. That includes offering the Lacinus protection in return for their obedience, which according to all of them they do get – she scares off other tribes from their lands, and according to them, has fought off wild animals and plagues of monsters. Well, according to SnappingGrowl, anyway. Barksnapgrowl didn't contradict him, but he kept his own tales of her feats somewhat more modest."

The unicorn nods. "Uhm … do they have any legends about when the Daughter of Fire … uh … came to be? Or if there's a Fire Goddess? You know, a whole Fire Family?"

Canticle smiles. "No, there doesn't appear to be a Fire Mom in the picture. The elderly Lacinus who went to serve the god appears to have been her … uh … nursemaid, perhaps, though that's not the way the Lacinus put it to me. She said that the god forged the girl in his furnace, that she might take his place when it was time for him to go. Oh, and here's another thing. I'm not sure the Fire God was a human. According to Barksnapgrowl his face was too bright to look upon, and he always appeared as a pillar of flame – maybe with limbs. It was hard to get my meaning across exactly."

"Was it anything like that fire-dragon we saw in the vision?" Rory asks, fascinated.

"No, I don't think so. The Fire Serpent we saw appears to be a separate part of the mythology. The Fire God rode it, just as his daughter rides it, now. Not that she rides it a lot, mind you. The Lacinus don't see all that much of her, from what I could tell. Like her father, she lives at Crucible Rock; except to bring offerings to her, the Lacinus seldom venture there. Oh – they did say that the God never demands tribute of a tribe for two seasons after forcing them to move. It all seems quite elaborate, really," Canticle remarks.

The unicorn nods. "So … uhm … I guess we have to find Crucible Rock? Do they have any legends about it? Such as, you have to bow three times and knock on wood, or else you'll spontaneously burst into flames once you cross the holy threshold, and that you have to speak her name backwards to summon her, and that her pet fire serpent really likes eating crackleberries?"

A chuckle from the mage answers Rory's query. "Not exactly. They gave me directions to the Crucible, which is quite easy to find, in point of fact. It's in this forest, and the Daughter of Flame has her serpent cut a path between it and each of her tribes. There's no path direct from here, yet, but we can walk back along the forest's edge to find the one that led to their old village."

"I guess the paths are there so they can go to pay tribute, right?" Rory guesses.

"I'd think so. I didn't really ask them about what special rituals, if any, they went through when visiting her. But even if her pet snake doesn't like crackleberries, it might be advisable to bring something. Like lumber. Or food. Heck, maybe she would like crackleberries." The older mage scratches his head.

Rory nods. "I'll keep an eye out for some ripe ones." He grins, then sobers. "Uhm … what do we do when we find her? I mean … are the Lacinus all right with having their houses burned down? I'm not clear on that part. Does she have to pay College dues or something like that?"

"This would be the ticklish bit, eh? I would say that the Lacinus are not too keen on having their houses burned down, judging by what we saw in the vision, even if Barksnapgrowl isn't willing to say as much to me. Truthfully, it's my duty as the appointed surveyor for this area to apprehend her. She either has to renounce her use of magic, or I have to bring her back to the College so she can be trained properly, and to pay her dues." The raccoon folds his hands together and stares at the dead fire in the hearth.

The unicorn nods. "Well … torching peoples' homes is pretty bad. And even if she can give a good reason for it, it's not like she really has the right to do that to people. They're not a bunch of groks, after all. Uhm … even if they sometimes act like it." His ears twitch at the memory. "I really hope she doesn't try to roast us. I mean, I don't think I could outrun that big fire-dragon thing."

The other mage shivers. "Me neither. On the bright side," he adds more cheerfully, "she seemed pretty peeved with Barksnapgrowl in the vision, and she didn't toast him. So perhaps she's not as bloody-minded as all that."

"Uhm," says Rory, looking faintly nervous at the observation, "yes, that's good. Well … ah … I wish I could think of something clever to do to prepare for things … but … ah … I guess I really ought to turn in so we can get up early in the morning. It's better when you make the most of the early morning, before it gets really hot."

The raccoon nods. "Fair enough. Let's get some rest." He stands and walks to the tent, opening the flap and peering in at the pile of sleeping Lacinus at one end. "Ah … I'll take the side near the natives, all right?"

Rory grins sheepishly, nodding quietly, and then timidly slips in, tip-toeing so as not to wake the Lacinus and prompt another … incident.

Grunts intersperse with the thud of an axe sinking into wood are audible, as a raccoon and a unicorn emerge from the blackened trail leading up the hill into the cleared area. The noises seem to be coming from around the bend of the hill, in the forest not far from the crucible's mouth.

The unicorn carefully treads his way along, his hoof-wraps carefully checked this time so he hopefully doesn't make a repeat of his little fiasco back at the burned out village. (Since they're going to "Crucible Rock", he reasons that he may actually have to walk on rocks, and hooves are kind of noisy for that.) He holds a couple of ethereal stick figures that bounce and dance in one hand, one of them looking like a child's drawing of a monster with a big "X" across its mouth and its ears, and the other has a big "X" across its eyes. He bravely … hides behind the large raccoon.

Canticle hesitates as he enters the clearing. He looks back to the boy walking carefully in his shadow, then squares his shoulders and turns to walk towards the sound of the chopping. A pair of balls of light bounce along on his tail tip as he moves, one glowing so brightly it is almost painful to look at directly, the other with a muted glow, and half-heard sounds like whispers coming from it, in some unintelligible language of barks and growls.

Rory timidly peeks around Canticle, watching for any sign of fire lizards, daughters of flame, fire gods, or, for that matter, bogeybeasts of any particular element that might be dangerous.

As they move around the curve of the slope, they see a dirty girl with ashes on her roughly-made tunic wielding a stone-bladed axe in both hands. She is using it to split logs on a level patch of ground. Flames crown her head, sparking and crackling, though no smoke comes from them, and there's no sign that they burn her. A dozen or so tree limbs, in various stages of defoliation, lie to one side of her, while a number of neatly broken logs and pieces of logs are stacked in a crude sled with "walls" on three sides to keep the logs from falling off. Her back is turned to the two strangers, and if she has noticed them, she shows no signs of it.

Rory resists a temptation to ask the raccoon any questions. He carefully scans the area for any obvious signs of danger, such as Lacinus tied up for sacrifice for dark fire gods (dark fire gods? Rory can worry about the contradictions in that one later) or that sort of thing.

The girl doesn't pause, continuing to methodically clear the foliage from her latest log, then split it into four neat segments. No evil minions leap from the forest to intercept them as the two come closer. The raccoon at last stops a few paces away. He clears his throat. The girl holds her axe over her head for a moment, then she brings it down. Chunk! Another log splits lengthwise at the blow. She grunts, then leans over to reposition one of the segments for a second strike.

Rory looks askance at the raccoon, figures that must be his cue, so he steps out from behind the raccoon and, in his most authoritative throat-clearing voice he can possibly manage, goes, "Ahe-he-he-hem!" … He keeps an eye on the axe, mentally trying to prepare himself to move aside in case the Daughter of Flame decides to give him a close-up view of it.

Chunk! The segment falls into two smaller pieces. The Flame Goddess bends over, resting her axe momentarily on her shoulder, and tosses the two pieces into her sled, then sets up the other large segment to be split. The raccoon returns Rory's look with a shrug of his own, and he starts sidling around to get in front of the young human. "Uh, miss, a word with you, please," he says, sufficiently unnerved that he forgets to release his prepared "Tongues" spell first.

Startlingly, the girl whirls around to face the raccoon after he speaks. "Who are you that uses the tongue of Gods?" she demands, in perfect Rephidim Standard.

Rory silently mouths an arcane magical phrase of "Uh oh!" and flattens his ears back. Self-proclaimed deities are so easily offended. He starts to say something, but then realizes that using the Tongue of the Gods would probably only make things worse. Goodness, but deities can be so difficult! Instead, he opts to just take his free hand and wave vigorously, painting as friendly of a smile as he can on his face, but not showing any teeth – He's not sure if a human would take that as threatening or not. It's hard to keep track of all the different species.

"Uh… " The mage glances to the waving, smiling Rory, as if for support, then back to the girl. He coughs. "I am Mage Canticle of the Collegia Esoterica," he says, opting for honesty. "May I inquire as to your identity?"

Rory volunteers, "I'm Rorschach, of the Sphere of Shadow, Life, and I'm working on Light, too. I'm studying under Koshiro. He's the Shadow Dragon who lives in the cave. Well, I was studying under him." At the introductions, he goes into chatterbox mode. "You see, I'm going back to the College, to learn more about magic. Do you use magic, too? Like, say, fire magic? Maybe you could come, too, and we could study together! That would be really dark. I mean, nice. 'Dark' is what I say to mean something is nice, that is. Well, not nice, nice, but nice. Uhm … skip that."

The unicorn fumbles over what to say next, and instead just makes a nervous laugh, and goes back to smiling in as friendly a manner as he can manage.

The girl straightens, and she does have a strangely compelling aura about her. Maybe it's the crown of flames.

"I am the Daughter of Flame, Goddess of the Four Tribes, and Keeper of the Crucible," she says. She eyes the two newcomers, one after another, her gaze lingering on Rorschach. "You speak in the tongue of the Gods, yet your manners are not familiar to me. You come holding your powers open on your bodies. Do not think that you can take my lands or place. My powers are greater than yours," she states, flatly, resting her axe against shoulder.

"I assure you," Mage Canticle says quickly, "we have no designs on your home or your people."

"Yeah," Rory pipes up, trying to be helpful. "Besides, you keep toasting them all the time anyway."

The raccoon gives a sharp glance to the unicorn, and the girl pivots to face him squarely, glaring at him. "You," she says. "You are a God of Shadows." She advances a step towards him.

"B-b-guh-ba-ba-guh-buh-muh-wha?" Rory blabbers, shaking on his hooves, and gulping hard. He points at himself, and in a squeaky voice, says, "me?" He quickly scans his surroundings for any convenient rocks or other fire-resistant obstacles to dive behind.

"Is that not what you said? Whatever words you used – 'mage' or 'sphere'. It is all one," she says, dismissive. Mage Canticle looks nervous himself as she continues, "Your familiar bold enough walks at your side, though she thinks herself hidden. I have a familiar, too. Would you like to meet him?"

Rory's expression does a dramatic shift. "Hey! You leave Silhouette out of this! She's not doing anything to hurt anybody!"

The girl sniffs. She points to the floating stick figures in Rory's hands. "I suppose they are doing nothing to hurt anyone, either. Yet. You say you have not come here to take my lands. Why are you here?"

Rory says, "They're here to protect me, in case you try to roast me as a sacrifice or something." He frowns. "You've been hurting lots of people, and burning up their houses!"

"Who have I hurt?" She narrows her eyes at him, then shifts to glare at Canticle.

Rory says, "Burning down villages tends to result in people getting hurt, you know! And I heard that there was some old Lacinus lady who your father demanded as a sacrifice or a tribute or something like that, and what about all the bossing around of the Lacinus that you do?"

"They are my people! It is my obligation to command them! It is their duty to obey me!" She stomps one foot against the ground. "That is the Way!"

Canticle clears his throat. "Well, that's sort of what we're here to talk about, you see. The way things currently are, and the way they might, uh, be changed.

Upon noticing that Canticle is speaking now, Rory's ears blush – he finally realizes that he's been doing an awful lot of talking, not very much listening, and not letting the adult get in a word edgewise until now. He alternates between trying to look very small, and then trying to stand tall and look as if he's fully backing up whatever it is that the raccoon has to say, nodding at what he thinks are the appropriate moments.

The girl turns to face the raccoon again. "Change? What kind of change?" She doesn't look any happier.

The raccoon pats the front of his tunic. "Uh, well. In a sense … my companion and I come from … er … the gods. I'm sort of a … messenger from them, come to gather up young gods like yourself and Rory, here, and bring you back to … where you belong. Among all the other gods. I mean – aren't you lonely here, with no one else like you around?"

Rory scratches his head with his free hand. He's not really so sure about the implications of calling himself a "god". He imagines a certain group of seven bat goddesses hearing that, then coming down and playing lawn darts – with him as the dart. He cringes at the thought. He has a very vivid imagination. He snaps out of it, coming back to the conversation, and watching for the girl's reaction.

The young woman looks surly and unconvinced. "I belong here. This is the place Father made for me and left to me. I will not leave it."

Canticle looks momentarily at a loss, and he glances at Rory.

"Uhm," Rory says, looking quite put on the spot and bewildered. "Well … you know … you could always come back. I mean, I've got a house up there, next to Koshiro. Well, it's not exactly precisely mine, but I sort of inherited it. And I'm going up to the College now … but I can come back. Besides, trust me, it is so great up there! It's a sky island, and … uh … I know this fire mage." He recalls the poodle fire apprentice in question, and then isn't so certain that it would be such a good idea to introduce them. He shrugs off the thought. "Couldn't you at least try it out? Why do you think that the Lacinus can't live here on their own? I mean, all the Lacinus I know do just fine on their own. They even have a city! Sunrise City, that is. I mean, it's more of a town than a city, but it's pretty nice. You can get these really neat bugs there."

Rory digs around in a belt-pouch. "Oh yeah … Do you like crackleberries? I found some. They're a little green, but if you like sour ones … "

The Daughter of Flame watches Rory. She holds out her hand for the offered fruit, glancing to Canticle. "Why do you want me to go?" she asks again, suspiciously.

Rory tries to pick out the least green of the bunch, and puts them into the girl's hand. Not looking up, he says, "Well, you know, going around and setting fire to stuff all over is kind of the thing that fire mages aren't supposed to do, so I guess they'd want to teach you how to use your powers responsibly and not exploit the natives, and that sort of thing. Oh yeah, and I imagine you'd learn how to do those big color-swirly things that all the fire mages do every Unity Day."

"As I said," the raccoon mage answers, somewhat more diplomatically, after listening to Rory talk, "We feel that people like us belong together, so that we can share what we know and better understand ourselves. You don't belong here, among the Lacinus. They are good people, but they are not of your kind. You should spend more time among your fellows – then, if you decide you miss your tribes, you may always return, like Rory says."

Rory nods agreeably, giving the girl a hopeful smile. "If you haven't had crackleberries before, I figure you'll like these, being as you do fire magic and all. They're better when they're ripe. Just don't put too many in your mouth at once, or you won't be able to hear yourself think."

The unicorn then tosses the remaining green ones in his mouth. Sour or not, he's going to miss crackleberries when he goes back to the college.

The girl puts one carefully in her mouth. Her eyes go wide a moment later, and she spits it out, gasping and coughing. The raccoon blanches. She glares at Rory for a moment, then she purses her mouth … and pops a second one in. Her eyes go wide again, and she giggles.

Rory smiles hopefully, as the crackleberries live up to their name in his mouth. He can hardly hear a thing, for all the crackling and popping echoing through his head. It's not the taste, it's the weirdness that makes a crackleberry special.

The mage lets out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, as the Daughter pops another of the strange fruits into her mouth, and the two young people grin at each other over the sensation. "I will consider what you say," the Daughter of Flame pronounces, solemnly.

"Darrrrrrrk!" Rory says. "So you're not going to lob fireballs at us?"

The Daughter of Flame and Mage Canticle together turn together and look at Rory.

Rory blinks, horrified. "ThatWASN'TaREQUEST!" he blurts out!

"No. I wasn't going to lob fireballs at you, anyway," the Daughter of Flame says. She continues, quite calm and serious, "I was going to summon my Serpent and have him incinerate you."

To this, Rory does what seems to him at the moment to be the most sensible thing to do. He turns and runs away screaming. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"