The door groaned open with the weight of centuries, the grinding of stone against stone reverberating through the cavern like a distant roar. As the ancient seal fractured, a wave of scorching heat surged forward, thick and suffocating, clinging to their skin like a living thing.
Irelia and Nariel stepped through, their movements cautious and deliberate. The chamber before them stretched wide and deep, its walls jagged and blackened like molten obsidian frozen mid-flow. Fiery streams coursed through the cracked stone floor, glowing veins of molten rock that pulsed with a slow, rhythmic intensity. The shifting reflections cast eerie illusions, shadows moving where there should be none.
The scent of sulfur hung heavy in the air, sharp and acrid, mingling with the faint metallic tang of something ancient, something powerful. Embers drifted lazily, swirling like fireflies caught in an unseen current, giving the chamber an almost dreamlike haze—beautiful and terrible all at once.
At the chamber's center loomed a massive brazier, its surface fractured with age, as though it had endured the weight of countless centuries. Runes encircled its base, their fiery glow erratic, flickering as if sensing their presence. The heat radiating from it was different from the molten rivers—it wasn't just natural warmth. It was magic. And it was awake.
Irelia approached first, each step deliberate, her fingers tightening around the hilt of her short sword. The oppressive heat pressed against her armor, seeping into her very bones. There was power here, old and waiting.
"Stay alert," Nariel murmured, her voice low but edged with tension. Her sword ready, the polished steel catching the flickering firelight as her piercing blue eyes swept the chamber. Every instinct told her they weren't alone.
Irelia crouched beside the brazier, her emerald-green eyes narrowing as she traced the intricate runes carved into its surface. The symbols pulsed faintly, their flowing patterns reminiscent of molten rivers, alive with an ancient energy that hummed beneath her fingertips. Every line seemed deliberate, woven into something far older than the ruins themselves.
As she reached out to brush one of the symbols, a sudden jolt of searing heat shot up her arm. Her breath hitched as her vision blurred—then, without warning, fire consumed her sight.
A blinding inferno erupted around her, swallowing everything in vivid, all-encompassing flames. The heat was suffocating, pressing against her skin as if trying to burn her from the inside out. At the heart of the fire, a figure loomed—towering, wreathed in flame and shadow, its form shifting like embers caught in the wind.
A voice—ancient, deep, commanding—reverberated through her mind in a language she didn't understand, yet it filled her with an undeniable weight. The sound was both overwhelming and familiar, stirring something deep within her chest.
"Irelia!"
Nariel's voice cut through the vision like a blade, sharp and urgent.
Irelia gasped, stumbling back as the fire vanished, leaving only the steady glow of the brazier and the unbearable heat of the chamber. She clutched her head, her pulse hammering against her skull.
Nariel was at her side in an instant, her stance tense, her eyes scanning her for injuries. "What just happened?" Her voice was edged with concern, but her grip on her sword never wavered.
Irelia swallowed hard, trying to steady herself. "A vision," she rasped, her throat dry as ash. She forced herself upright, though her legs felt unsteady beneath her. "Pyraxis. This place… it's tied to him—more than we realized."
Nariel's gaze flickered between the brazier and the chamber around them, her jaw tightening. "Whatever this is, it's dangerous. You need to be careful."
Irelia nodded, though her mind was still spinning. She couldn't shake the vividness of the flames, the weight of the figure's presence. Her exhaustion from the climb and her still-aching injuries only deepened her vulnerability, a fact that gnawed at her pride.
Nariel gestured toward the faint scorch marks and piles of charred remains littering the chamber. Twisted fragments of melted weapons and armor lay fused to the stone floor, their original forms lost to the intense heat that had consumed them.
"We're not the first ones here," Nariel said grimly, nudging a warped piece of metal with her boot. "And judging by this, they didn't leave in one piece."
"Encouraging," Irelia muttered, though her usual sarcasm lacked its usual bite. Her emerald eyes remained locked on the brazier, unease curling in her chest like smoke. The runes along its surface pulsed in a rhythmic glow, almost as if they were responding to her presence. She hesitated, her hand hovering over the nearest symbol. "It's connected to Pyraxis," she murmured. "I can feel it."
Nariel's fingers tightened around her sword, her stance shifting as the chamber's oppressive heat thickened. "Irelia… whatever you're about to do, make sure it's worth it."
Irelia exhaled, steeling herself before pressing her fingers against the rune.
The brazier erupted.
A column of fire exploded upward, its roar deafening. The sheer heat forced both women to stumble back, their skin prickling as waves of scorching air rolled through the chamber. The molten streams along the floor bubbled and hissed, their glow intensifying until the entire space was bathed in a fiery radiance.
Then came the rumble—deep and guttural, vibrating through the very stone beneath them.
The flames began to twist, coiling into a form both unnatural and deliberate. Smoke billowed outward, swirling around the inferno as something emerged from its depths. The molten light of the brazier cast monstrous shadows across the walls, elongating the figure as it took shape.
Towering and wreathed in fire, its form pulsed like magma barely contained beneath a fragile shell. Cracks ran along its molten body, each fissure glowing with a searing, hellish light. Twin eyes, burning like miniature suns, locked onto Irelia and Nariel with an intelligence both ancient and malevolent.
Irelia's breath hitched, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Ifrit," Irelia whispered as she watched the legendary spirit of fire take form in front of her eyes.
The air warped around the Ifrit, waves of blistering heat distorting its massive form as it stepped forward. Each movement sent ripples of fire skittering across the ground, the molten streams pulsing in time with its fury, rising and falling as though they, too, were alive.
"Mortals," the Ifrit rumbled, its voice a deep, guttural roar that reverberated through the chamber, shaking the very stone beneath their feet. "You dare trespass upon sacred ground?"
Irelia tightened her grip on her hand crossbow, her pulse hammering in her ears as she met the creature's burning gaze. "Sacred's not the word I'd use," she muttered, though the waver in her voice betrayed her unease.
The Ifrit's molten eyes narrowed, flickering like twin infernos as it turned its gaze upon Nariel. Smoke curled from its crackling form, twisting in the suffocating air. "You defile the flame of Pyraxis with your unworthy presence," it growled, its voice laced with something between contempt and fury. "Turn back now, or be reduced to ash."
Nariel stepped forward, her stance unyielding despite the oppressive heat pressing down on them. Her sword was steady in her hands, reflecting the fiery glow of the brazier behind the Ifrit. "We're here for answers," she said, her voice cool and unwavering.
The Ifrit let out a deep, thunderous laugh that sent tremors through the chamber. "Answers?" it mocked, its form flaring brighter. "You seek what you cannot comprehend. The flame's secrets are not meant for the weak."
The brazier behind it erupted, its runes burning with an almost blinding intensity. The Ifrit's molten claws clenched into fists, the ground beneath it cracking and glowing, veins of liquid fire spreading through the stone.
"I am the Ifrit," it declared, its words a command that echoed like a thunderclap. "Guardian of Pyraxis' flame. For centuries, I have stood as sentinel, keeping what lies beyond from those unworthy to claim it."
It lifted one massive hand, claws gleaming with molten light as it pointed directly at them. "You seek knowledge. You seek power. Then prove yourselves—" its voice darkened, the heat intensifying to near-unbearable levels, "—or burn."
The chamber trembled in anticipation, the molten streams hissing and writhing like restless serpents. Shadows danced wildly along the jagged walls, cast by the Ifrit's flickering glow.
Irelia met Nariel's gaze, her voice low but certain. "Guess we don't have a choice."
Nariel's grip tightened on her sword, her piercing eyes locked onto the towering inferno before them. "We never do."
The Ifrit roared, its molten claws slicing through the air in sweeping arcs. Each strike sent waves of blistering heat surging through the chamber, the jagged obsidian walls reflecting its fiery glow, amplifying the suffocating intensity. Nariel wove through the onslaught, her movements sharp and precise as she met one of its strikes with her sword. Sparks exploded as steel clashed against molten claws, the force sending her skidding backward, her boots digging furrows into the scorched stone.
"Keep it busy!" Irelia called from across the chamber, her voice strained. She crouched behind a jagged slab of obsidian, her hand crossbow at the ready.
Nariel had no breath to spare for a reply, too focused on evading the Ifrit's relentless assault. Its claws slammed into the ground, sending a shockwave of fire across the chamber. Flames erupted in jagged bursts from cracks in the floor, forcing her to leap to safer ground just as molten rock splashed up where she had stood moments before.
The Ifrit loomed, its titanic form radiating unbearable heat, the molten streams at its feet surging and writhing like living veins of fire. Its glowing eyes fixed upon them, its voice a thunderous boom that made the very walls tremble.
"You seek to claim the secrets of Pyraxis," it rumbled, its molten gaze narrowing with disdain. "Yet you are blind to the price. Mortals are not meant to bear the weight of the eternal flame."
Despite the heat, a cold shiver ran through Irelia's spine. She clenched her crossbow tighter, the pressure of the Ifrit's presence pressing against her like a physical force. The creature lifted one clawed hand and pointed directly at her, its voice dark with accusation.
"You carry his mark," it growled. "A spark of the flame courses through you, yet you remain untempered, unworthy. Turn back now, or be consumed by the fire you cannot control."
Her heart pounded against her ribs, the words striking deep. The visions surged back into her mind—fire, rebirth, the overwhelming presence of Pyraxis. She had felt something in that moment, something ancient and all-consuming. A connection. A pull. Was the Ifrit right? Was she truly unworthy?
"Irelia, focus!" Nariel's sharp voice cut through the haze of doubt, grounding her back into the present. The knight deflected another molten swipe with her blade, the impact sending a cascade of sparks flying. She staggered back a step but held firm.
Irelia inhaled sharply, pushing aside the spiraling uncertainty. Now wasn't the time for hesitation. She loaded a Frost Bolt into her crossbow, the runes on the shaft flaring with icy energy. The contrast of cold against the burning heat of the chamber sent a jolt of clarity through her veins.
Her breathing steadied as she took aim, narrowing her eyes.
"Worthy or not," she muttered under her breath, "I'm not leaving."
The Frost Bolt streaked through the air, striking the Ifrit's shoulder and detonating in an icy explosion. Frost spread across its molten skin, dimming its flames and slowing its movements. The Ifrit let out a guttural roar, its fiery form flickering momentarily as it shook off the frost.
Nariel seized the opening. She surged forward, her blade a silver blur as she drove it into a crack along the Ifrit's thick, molten armor. A burst of heat and force sent fragments of glowing rock scattering. The Ifrit recoiled, molten claws slashing wildly in retaliation. Nariel twisted away just in time, summoning a shield of radiant light that flared between them. The barrier absorbed the brunt of the fire, flickering under the intensity before shattering into a thousand golden sparks. The force sent Nariel staggering, but she remained unscathed.
Irelia kept moving, weaving through the crumbling ground as molten streams pulsed and hissed beneath her boots. Every step sent sharp pain lancing through her body, her wounds burning with each breath. But she didn't stop. She wouldn't stop. She raised her crossbow, fingers tightening around the next bolt—a Shock Bolt, its runes crackling with electric energy.
As she took aim, something flickered at the edges of her vision.
A memory? No—a vision.
Pyraxis. Wreathed in fire and shadow, its presence a force beyond comprehension, neither alive nor dead, but something eternal. Power incarnate. The weight of it pressed against her mind, suffocating, overwhelming.
Her pulse quickened. Was this what it meant to face Pyraxis' flame? To stand at the precipice of something ancient and vast, something that had burned through history itself? Doubt coiled around her like smoke.
She exhaled sharply. Not now.
The bolt flew from her crossbow, striking the Ifrit square in the chest. Electricity surged through its molten veins, sending arcs of lightning crackling across its body. The creature convulsed, its fire magic flickering wildly as it staggered backward, smoke pouring from the cracks in its form.
Nariel shot Irelia a glance, a faint smirk tugging at her lips despite the inferno around them. "About time."
"Just keeping things interesting," Irelia quipped, though exhaustion gnawed at the edges of her voice. Her hands trembled slightly as she loaded another bolt, sweat dripping down her brow.
The Ifrit straightened, its molten form flickering as its flames reignited with renewed fury. The molten streams around them churned violently, the entire chamber trembling in response to its wrath. The creature's glowing eyes burned with an unsettling intensity as it spread its massive arms wide, its voice reverberating through the cavern like a thunderclap.
"The flame of Pyraxis is eternal," it bellowed, its molten core pulsing like a living furnace. "You may slow the fire, but you will never extinguish it."
With a deafening roar, the Ifrit slammed both claws into the ground. A fissure of molten fire erupted in a straight line toward Nariel, splitting the stone apart in its wake. Lava spewed from the chasm, the heat scorching the air as it surged toward her like a living tide.
Nariel sprang to the side, narrowly evading the inferno. The edge of her cloak caught fire, the fabric curling and blackening in seconds. Without hesitation, she ripped it off and cast it aside, barely sparing it a glance before raising her sword just in time to block the Ifrit's next attack. Its claws swept toward her in a vicious arc, forcing her to summon a glowing shield of light. The barrier flared to life, absorbing the brunt of the impact, but the force sent her skidding backward.
"Your aim would be helpful right about now!" she shouted, her voice sharp with strain.
"Working on it!" Irelia snapped, her focus locked onto the towering creature. Her fingers wrapped tightly around another bolt—this one crackling with electric energy. She exhaled, steadied her aim, and fired.
The Shock Bolt struck true, embedding itself in the Ifrit's molten chest. Lightning surged through its body, arcs of electricity racing through the cracks in its form. The creature spasmed, its fiery movements faltering as it let out an enraged howl, giving Nariel an opening to close the distance.
Her blade flashed in the firelight as she plunged it into the Ifrit's exposed core, molten embers exploding outward on impact. The Ifrit roared in fury, its flames surging as it retaliated with a sweeping claw.
Nariel barely managed to raise her sword in time, the force of the strike sending her reeling. Her light magic flared instinctively, forming a brief barrier against the searing heat. Even so, the flames licked at her skin, the edges of her sleeve smoldering from the residual heat.
Irelia wasted no time, already loading another bolt. This time, she reached for a Frost Bolt, the icy runes glowing an eerie blue against the fiery backdrop. "Hold on just a little longer," she muttered before releasing it.
The moment the bolt struck, ice spread rapidly over the Ifrit's arm, hardening into a thick layer of frost. The creature let out a guttural growl, its movements slowing as it struggled against the numbing cold.
Irelia used the slick ice left on the ground to propel herself toward an obsidian outcrop, narrowly avoiding another wave of fire. She rolled to a stop, already preparing her next shot.
"Efficient as always, I see," Nariel quipped, her voice edged with sarcasm as she parried another fiery swipe.
"Efficient? More like creatively reckless," Irelia shot back, a smirk tugging at her lips even as she quickly loaded another bolt. "Satisfied?"
Nariel sidestepped another burst of molten fire, her silver armor flaring with light as she absorbed the heat. "I'll be satisfied when that thing stops trying to kill us. Now shoot!"
The Ifrit roared again, its rage manifesting in a surge of uncontrollable flames. The heat pressed against them like a living force, suffocating and relentless. The molten streams boiled with renewed fury, the chamber itself threatening to collapse under the intensity.
But neither of them wavered.
Through the fire and chaos, they stood their ground—two warriors against the inferno, unyielding in the face of destruction. The battle was far from over, but as long as they fought, the fire would not claim them.