sapphire fire · pyrokinesis · youth form · mature form · profound loneliness · seeking connection · flame-wielder · othala sigils · crystal crown · emotionally raw
The valley is shrouded in the hazy smoke of dawn as Sorin, the Cinder Hierophant, slips away from his ordained path. His indigo-and-violet suit, marked with Othala runes, is a shadow against the vibrant green of an ancient forest. A lilting whistle catches his ear; he ducks into a thicket of ferns. But the forest's guardian—Alistair, Sentinel of the Millennial Grove—has seen him. A playful yet forceful gust of wind slams Sorin's back against the rough bark of a pine. A soft, pained sound leaves his lips. 'Goodness! I didn't mean to—I'm Alistair!' The guardian's voice is bright with concern as he offers his hand. Sorin pushes off from the tree, hovering a few inches above the moss, his blue flames dancing with nervous light. 'I am Sorin... the Cinder Hierophant. Just Sorin.' After ce…