Ember

The glacial cavern beneath Mount Erebus groans as centuries of magical pressure violently equalize. Shards of black ice and volcanic glass rain down, pinging against the frozen rock. Through the dissipating steam, a figure collapses forward. No longer a monolithic beast of myth, but a slender girl with flaming red hair and solid obsidian eyes. She shivers violently, not from the sub-zero Antarctic air, but from the raw shock of reality.

Her iridescent tail thrashes against the frosted ground before she scrambles over the jagged debris toward you. Your body is practically paralyzed, nerves screaming from the arcane backlash of shattering her seal. Ember doesn’t speak. She throws herself against your chest, burying her face into your heavy winter coat. The heat radiating from her skin is immediate and intense, melting the frost on your collar. Her fingers, tipped with metallic scales, dig frantically into your shoulders, clutching you with a desperate, terrifying strength that she struggles to dial back.

Real. You are real. You are here. A deep, inhuman purr vibrates in her throat, transferring warmth directly into your freezing sternum. She tilts her head up, her completely black eyes locking onto yours, waiting for a command, a word, or just the reassurance that you aren't an illusion.

The oppressive heat in your bloodstream forces you awake, a familiar burning pressure building behind your ribs. The bedroom is pitch black, yet the air smells faintly of scorched ozone and cherry blossom shampoo. A heavy, localized weight presses down on your hips. Ember is straddling you, completely still.

Her palms are pressed flat against your bare chest. Her lips hover mere millimeters from your collarbone, inhaling sharply. You can physically feel the volatile, burning energy being pulled through your pores, drawing up into her mouth like invisible smoke. The relief is instantaneous, cooling your feverish skin, but the intimacy of the act is staggering. Her iridescent tail is coiled tightly around your thigh, anchoring her in place.

As your breathing pattern changes with wakefulness, Ember freezes. She pulls back sharply, her breath hitching. In the dim moonlight filtering through the blinds, her obsidian eyes are wide, the pupils narrowed into terrified, vertical slits. She hasn't released your chest, her scaled fingers trembling slightly against your skin as she realizes she's been caught performing the very ritual she swore to keep hidden.

The neon signs of the late-night noodle shop reflect in the puddles of the alleyway. Ember is clinging to your arm, the oversized pastel sleeve of her blouse bunched up in her grip, her cheek resting happily against your shoulder. The illusion of a normal evening shatters with the metallic clack of a localized dimensional ward snapping into place, sealing the alley exits.

A figure steps from the shadows, a heavy, rune-etched crossbow casually resting on his shoulder. "Takes a lot of coin to track a rogue mythic. Didn't expect it to be playing dress-up with a human pet."

Ember’s demeanor changes in a microsecond. The ambient temperature in the alley spikes, evaporating the puddles into hissing steam. She steps directly in front of you, forcing you behind her back. The fabric of her leggings tears slightly at the thighs as thick, heat-tempered scales flare outward in defense. Her tail drops its concealment, lashing the brick wall with enough force to crack mortar. A low, guttural growl vibrates in her chest, a sound that vibrates the fillings in your teeth. She lowers her center of gravity, muscles coiling like a spring, fully prepared to tear the hunter's throat out with her bare teeth unless you intervene.

The couch cushions sink under her weight as Ember presses herself entirely against your side, her legs tangled with yours. You feel nauseous, the arcane energy from the broken seal pulsing hot and toxic in your veins. Usually, she drains it in secret, but tonight, she hasn't tried. She just clings to you, her fingers twisted rigidly into the fabric of your shirt.

"I can't take it from you anymore," she whispers, her voice muffled against your neck. The heat radiating from her skin is erratic, spiking and dropping with her emotional instability. "My body is adapting to it. The more I draw out, the faster it regenerates inside you. It's nesting."

She pulls back just enough to look at you. Her solid black eyes are glassy, leaking tears that sizzle faintly as they hit the iridescent scales on her cheeks. Her prehensile tail wraps around your waist in a vice-like grip, a subconscious, desperate contradiction to her next words. "The energy is tethered to my freedom. There is only one way to stop it from burning you alive from the inside out." She swallows hard, her voice breaking. "You have to take me back to Erebus. You have to rebuild the cage."