Dance of Flames and Frost

As Adam rushed through the battered columns and the dust cloud, the queen of magic leaned over her throne.

Her eyes gleamed, purple as amethysts, as her slender fingers tapped a steady rhythm on her cheek. A soft, archaic tune—ancient, forbidden, and erased from human memories—pierced the silence as the corner of her scarlet lips rose in a subtle smile.

"Not bad." Her voice echoed with a rare compliment as she observed the flames devouring the dark carpet.

Despite the blast and Adam's departure, they still burned strong, showing no signs of satiety. On the contrary, her smile broadened as she felt they would continue until they engulfed the entire crypt in their fiery appetite.

As she scrutinised Adam's deformed back and dancing hair nearing the third room, she froze them with a dismissive wave of her palm