27 The call of the Wildfire
"The concept of fire as a thing is somewhat paradoxical. The word is a noun, and nouns describe something different than verbs, but we have this flexibility when we ask something like 'what's a fire' and the answer is almost always along the lines of 'something burning'. The noun is a really verb in that sense, because fire isn't the thing that's burning either, but rather the burning itself. Something on fire isn't the fire, but is being transformed by it. The fuel doesn't matter either, because no matter what's burning, it's still a fire. Fire consuming and transforming everything it burns makes it distinct from its medium, but it also makes it metaphysical. A fire is always changing, it's a dynamic ongoing reaction, which then begs the question if a fire is never the same with no solid form and no specific fuel what constitutes a fire. If you build a fire and transfer the flame to another location is it the same fire? If you use the flames to ignite another fuel source is it still the same fire? If the universe started with fire and all life is a byproduct is fire itself the fuel for everything else?" Oberon stood in front of a lecture screen in an empty classroom.
"You definitely sound like a man obsessed."
"Spoken like someone who has never taken a class on the epistemology of magical elements, let alone taught one. I practice my lectures just like I'd practice any spell." Oberon snapped back.
"I can't help it, I never liked elemental magic. Magic for me is an expression of my art, so I much prefer to draw sigils and occasionally practice divination than waste my time trying to ponder what ifs about how it already exists. But this is why you're teaching and I'm not even taking the class. Regardless, you should really take a break. You know very well that this isn't even about this class, you've been really fixated ever since you had that uncomfortable meeting with Baldyre. Which, if you recall, was a result of your brilliant idea to marry a fire element. At some point you're going to have to stop asking the existential questions and start asking the real ones like if literally everyone who knows you is insane or if maybe they've noticed you're on your way there yourself."
"I think it's insane that you keep trying to debate this when you know that we both signed a contract." The half elf fire element materialized between them. "He has already fulfilled his obligation, I need to make good on mine. Everyone in protest seems deluded as to how magical contracts work, but we are both bound, what's more is that your concerns about marriage are equally unfounded. Did you forget how that works in your own realm? If I ever brought harm to him, this place, or anyone he cares about it would only be vested back unto me. Whatever concern you affectate is merely to obfuscate from the real issue for you which is that you don't like me because I'm powerful and different. It's truly amazing that he has been able to achieve so much with all of you constantly undermining him."
"A bheil thu a 'dol a thogail teallach gus a cumail? (Are you going to build it a fireplace?)"
"Tha aon aige na chridhe mar-thà. (He already has one in his heart.)" The half elf fire sprite shot back. The question had been addressed to Oberon, but was meant to insult. Asking Oberon if he'd built a fireplace for his fiancee that's a fire element was implying 'are you going to contain her' as if she was out of control. The sprite's reply which boiled down to 'he loves me' wasn't necessarily out of turn either despite answering instead of Oberon. It sent a message that she wouldn't be tamed because she didn't need to be. Anyone who truly understands fire knows you don't contain it, you feed it and give it space to grow.
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Lucky had managed to accompany Cerberus by deftly concealing herself with her form in flux. Being midway between as dragon and a chipmunk meant she was both and neither. Something you can't recognize is something you can't detect. So she passed through every magical search as if she wasn't there, because she really wasn't and was at the same time. She had many complex emotions running through her that she didn't know how to respond to because they seemed so rootless, but it was starting to feel like the part of her that is a dragon knows a lot of things and feels a lot of things about what it knows that she is not privy to. It was like ripples in a pond as the dragon would emerge and submerge in and out of her consciousness. Lucky did know one thing though, she had no trust. She did not trust Zion, she did not trust Oberon, she did not trust Cerberus, she did not trust the fairies, or Contessa or anyone at all. Lucky didn't even trust herself. And out of that mistrust came great opportunity both good and bad.
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Zion and their shadow were immediately detained separate from the others. Seen as an enemy of the state by most of the Fae, Zion could not be trusted, especially with the Fae King in his current confused state. As soon as Zion was alone with their shadow it came off the wall and started writing things in the air that disappeared like darkness does in the light. Zion watched half impressed. As they watched they felt an unfamiliar tingling in their eyes as drops of moisture rolled down their cheeks. It was in this moment they realized they were crying.
