“Y’know, despite my proclivities for cryomancy, I’ve always loved the purity of the flame. There’s something beautiful about it—the warmth of a candle in the tavern, or the roaring inferno straight from a dragon’s maw. Energies of life and death, fused together by a single spark. Gods above, I sometimes wish I could go back to school and do my studies over. But alas, here we are.”
Twirling her hand around, Jalia created a snowball in her hand. The chill was pleasant, helping her fight back the day’s heat. And yet, that dichotomy also perplexed her. She slumped in her seat, imagining instead a mote of fire hovering above her palm.
“Sometimes, I wonder what it’d be like if the whole world just burned. Poof. Gone. Everything turned to ash.” She chuckled to herself. “I’d never get the chills again.”
She looked to her friend Erik, who stared back with a deadpanned expression plastered across his face.
“What?” Jalia asked.
“You’ve got issues, my friend,” he said, smirking all the while.
Jalia flung the snowball at Erik’s face.