1 The First Rule of Pyromancy

Waves of heat radiated through the desert dunes as the sun hung high in the noon sky. In the distance, a bird of prey trilled a cry as it circled a target only it could see. Not a single cloud hung in the clear blue sky to offer respite from the intensity of the weather. The hills of sand spanned on endlessly, broken only by the occasional boulder or bundle of weeds struggling to survive.

Amongst the dunes, a line of camels trod along under the vigilance of a group of heavily armed individuals. The gleam of metal could be seen at a great distance, and several people held their weapons as if expecting an attack at any moment.

A groan came from the center of the line of camels.

A young woman holding a burnt elm staff puffed out her cheeks as she looked at the small stoneware bowl in front of her. In the center of the bowl was a tiny tuft of dried brown grass. Mostly used to spread a fire, the grass was unchanged by her efforts. The woman tried raising the staff a little higher as the rocking camel beneath her continued to go forward heedless of its rider's efforts.

"Still trying your hand at fire starting, Rosa?" One of the men near her asked, smiling politely. His armor was a mix of tough hide and small stone beads. The hide wasn't special, but the beads glimmered with an unnatural radiance, marking them as magical items. There were ten in all - 2 on each shoulder, 4 along the collar, and 2 in the center of his chest area, all different colors to signify different potential uses.

The woman nodded, her uncovered, curled, brunette hair - a rarity in the desert - bouncing as she did so. "I keep trying, but the mana infusion isn't working. I think I'm missing something, but the bit on pyromancy I was able to find didn't mention any other requirements." She bit her lip in contemplation, then ran her free hand along the burnt elm staff once more. "I'm supposed to have an item with a memory of the element I'm channeling, a fuel source, and a sufficient amount of mana, but I feel like I'm doing it all wrong. I can't even get the grass to smoke..." She smiled at the man in hide armor, "thanks for asking, Master Emil. How are your men doing?"

The man shrugged, his facial expression becoming more neutral, professional, "Everything's been fine. Five days out and we've barely had a need to raise our weapons. I'll have to offer a discount if this continues." He scratched his scruffy beard in contemplation for a moment, then tilted his head. "I must say though, it's odd to see such a lack of wildlife. This region is certainly hostile to life, but I'd have assumed at least something could survive out here. If not for our magical equipment we'd have died of thirst by now." He tapped the canteen strapped to his camel, the magical seal etched into the cap shining faintly.

Rosa smiled at his observations. "We're lucky. I'm thankful for your protection, and I'm more thankful for not needing it. We should reach Dove and the Mage's Library in a few day's time." Rosa slid her staff into a holder on her camel's saddle and returned the bowl with the grass to an adjacent pouch, abandoning the pyromancy practice for now. Emil returned to his watchful position in front of her as she pulled out a hand drawn map and contemplated it.

Several hours later, the group decided to break camp near an outcropping of rocks. Most of the men sat in a circle and chatted back and forth in a friendly manner. Emil rationed out food for dinner, mostly dried scraps that were lightweight but hardy. After the meager dinner, the men brought their canteens to Rosa for refilling.

Refilling the canteens was an easy process for someone blessed with magical ability. Rosa would unscrew the cap slightly, leaving an opening for air to escape. She then poured her mana into the magical engraving on the cap, allowing the water in the air to condense and pool in the water jug. The excess, dried air, hissed out of the opening caused by the loose cap. The process wasn't fast, taking roughly an hour to fill all the canteens, but it wasn't mana intensive and Rosa often found herself chatting with the mercenaries as she did so.

Most of the men were just fortune seekers. Some sought to make their own group, others worked with absolute loyalty to Emil. They were all fairly young, but they knew more about surviving the desert than Rosa did. And more than survival, they were a mercenary group known for protecting caravans and providing security. This was the mercenary band created by the former knight Emil. It went by the name of Desert Rats. Each member was an orphan picked up and trained by Emil himself. Their family-like chatter made Rosa smile, and more than a few of the boys in the group worked hard to see that smile.

Rosa was the only one who got her own tent. The rest would sleep in shifts while protecting the camels and the tent. At first she had felt awkward, but Emil had insisted that this was how they always did things, so her refusals had lost their power and she had begrudgingly agreed.

This night, however, was not fated to end without event.

Rosa was startled awake by a combination of grinding noises and yelling. A small fire had been lit, and she could see shadows dancing across her tent. As she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, Emil rushed into her tent. "Miss Dupardoner, we have a situation-"

When he saw that she was already awake, he took a breath to return to his professional mannerisms. Lowering his voice, he pointed at the ground "Sand worms."

Rosa gasped as her mind raced. Sand worms were a rare species of monster, which only hunted at night. They used a mixture of vibration detection and heat sensors to catch their prey. The fire outside the tent had probably been lit to distract them. While they were not terribly strong, they had two deadly traits - they travelled in packs, and their pincers could easily dismember an average human.

"Now I know why this area was so desolate. We need to get to the top of that rock outcropping until dawn." Emil said quietly, helping Rosa grab her belongings. "The camels are half dead already. We need to move, quickly."

There was another wave of grinding noises and a camel roared loudly in protest. Rosa nodded her head in response, remembering to limit her movements. In times like these, she had been instructed to follow every order Emil and the Desert Rats gave her.

Leaving the tent, Emil and Rosa went towards the outcropping of rocks. Several of the Desert Rats were already there, while the rest were lighting torches and throwing them as distractions as they risked their lives to get the remaining supplies off the camels. The young lady felt vomit coming up as she sighted a pool of blood nearby and a severed limb not much further. Clearly some of the young men had already been hurt. Slowly, following the knight in hide armor, they cautiously walked towards the rock formation.

While climbing the rocks, more chittering could be heard, and several arm-length gray creatures could be seen attacking some of the torches. While watching the spectacle, Rosa tripped over one of the stones and her burnt elm staff clattered out onto the ground. Emil stopped her from picking it up and pulled her further onto the rocky outcropping. A second later, a sand worm emerged from the nearby sand and dived in the direction Rosa had been. If she had reached for the staff it would have fallen on her.

The sand worm was grotesque. It was covered in hundreds of small, curved spikes that appeared to be feet on the surface. In actuality, the spikes were what propelled the sand worms forward in the sand itself. At its head were no eyes, but one solid black beak about the size of a hand.

A scream sounded from one of the men trying to salvage the packs from the camels. A sand worm had taken his hand. Even as he screamed, three more sand worms leapt from the sand and tackled him down, taken more bits and pieces. Rosa watched in horror as the young man was devoured alive.

"Is this a pyromancer's staff?"

The question sounded almost like someone inquiring about the weather. It was so light and inquisitive, Rosa thought she might have imagined it. However, as she turned to look, she beheld something even more bewildering than the sand worm attack.

A man in a sand colored robe was clutching her burnt elm staff in one hand. He wore no decoration, nor equipment. His hair, a dirty blonde color that glowed in the firelight, was cut short and seemed be a disorganized mess. His face was unblemished and showed no signs of tanning. He had a knowing smile like he was in on a joke that nobody else knew about. His eyes were the color of tilled soil. Under his robe he had basic clothing on, and simple shoes. The man looked like he had walked out of a book and into the desert with just the base essentials.

While Rosa's mind tried to understand what was going on, the man looked her up and down and snorted. "Still just a trainee, huh? Unburnt. You still haven't even embraced the first rule, have you?"

Rosa felt like she was being looked down on. The indignation spurred her mouth to start moving again. "What do you mean, the first rule?"

The man turned his back to her, looking out at the ongoing sand worm attack. Raising the staff, the barest trace of fire could be seen coming from him. "The first rule of pyromancy," the man stated, as if reading aloud from a book. "If you're going to practice pyromancy, prepare to get burned."

The man waved the staff once. The motion was fluid and decisive, like he was swiping away a cobweb in front of him. A moment later, no less than 12 pillars of flame erupted from the sand near the remaining Desert Rats.

Rosa would burn the sight into her memory from then onwards. It was the first time she had felt mortal danger. It was the first time she had felt powerless to help. It was the first time she had experienced real pyromancy.

But most importantly, it was the night Rosa met Cyn the Master Pyromancer.