Chapter Text
The sound of gunfire shook Sienna awake.
With an instinct born of countless battles, she leapt out of her iron bed, grabbing the staff that was always propped ready next to it. She stoked the fire smouldering in her chest, eager to devour any enemy in sight.
Then she groaned as she recognized the sharp, punctuated staccato of Victor’s pistol. One Eye was practicing his marksmanship. Again. And it was always before dawn.
The man was such a sadist.
Sienna reluctantly let go of her fire magic, smothering the blaze inside to a few embers. Flopping back down on the bed, she tried to fall back asleep, but it was no use. She was still too wired from Aqshy’s high, and the sound of Victor’s gun practice was like a chisel pounding into her skull.
Annoyed, she threw on a scarlet robe and stalked out of her room. Sienna was determined to give that infuriatingly imperious Witch Hunter a piece of her mind. Shoes clacking as she descended down the crumbling stone steps, the bright wizard made her way to the entrance of the courtyard.
The exterior of the Keep was shrouded in the bluish tint of a pre-dawn mist. Far away in the horizon, a pink tinge behind the snow capped mountains signaled the arrival of dawn. Sienna breathed deep. The air was cool and fresh, the breeze bracing against her face.
Another round of gunfire broke the early morning stillness, and Sienna scowled.
Following the stone path, she soon saw Victor. The man’s back was facing her, his silhouette against the mist rigid and imposing. Despite the early hour he was already outfitted in full gear, the tall hat of his office on his head, body attired in a dark leather coat that went down to his knees.
Sienna rolled her eyes. She watched as he continued to riddle the training dummies with holes. One dummy already had its head blown off, while three others saw five perfect holes straight through the chest. Although Sienna would never admit it, the Witch Hunter’s marksmanship was impressive.
”What are you doing here, witch?” Victor suddenly spat, pausing in mid-fire. He did not turn around. “If you cannot tell, I am busy and do not wish to be disturbed.”
“Trust me darling,” she drawled, knowing full well that it would irritate him. “I‘m not here for your tender attention. What I want to say is- Can you stop making that racket in the morning? Normal, good folk are trying to sleep.”
“I would like to remind you, Fuegonasus, that we are currently fighting a war,” said the Witch Hunter through gritted teeth. “We are the last bastion defending the world from the hordes of chaos. Sleep is a luxury that we can ill afford.”
“Look,” Sienna said, pressing a hand to her tired eyes. “It’s too early for arguments. Yesterday’s mission was downright nasty, and it’s only going to get worse. We need all the rest we can get to keep a clear head, even if you don’t.”
Victor turned to face her then. He looked sunken, exhausted, and dark circles had formed beneath his eyes. However, the fanatical gleam in his good eye was clear and fierce. “This is exactly why necessity takes precedence over comfort,” he barked, voice showing no trace of fatigue. “Sigmar rewards unwavering discipline and dedication. With only one eye, it behooves me to practice even harder for all your safety.”
Sienna laughed, a smoky, guttural sound.
“Oh ho, why Saltzpyre, is that affection I sense? Have you grown to care for us after all? Will wonders never cease! I thought that only ice flowed through your veins.”
Victor jerked back as though he had been slapped. “Be careful, witch,” he spat. “Have a care that you do not hinder us with your complacency and heresies.”
“After everything we have been through, still you must berate me and insult me.” The wizard folded her arms across her chest. “Tell me, zealot, how many times have my flames saved you?”
“I have told you before. It is not your flames that concern me. Your power grows, and I see you dance on the precipice.” He stared at her, and his voice was as hard as iron. “Yet you will not heed me to discipline your magic. For your addiction and selfish pleasure, are you willing to let the rest of the world burn?”
Without waiting for an answer he stalked off back to the dungeons, leaving Sienna staring after him in his wake. She suddenly felt strangely guilty.
“Don’t mind the mayfly, Sienna. Yours is a gift to be cherished.”
“Kerillian.” The wizard acknowledged as the wood elf leapt gracefully and silently next to her. Wrapped in her forest green cloak, the elf looked nearly ethereal in the morning mist. She nodded in greeting, and Sienna noticed the worn bows clasped in her hand. With unspoken understanding, she fell in step beside Kerillian as they made their way to the Sternenlicht Forge.
“One Eye will not understand. His mind is narrow, and that limits his understanding,” the elf said, giving Sienna a sideways glance. Although the elf seemed to find in the wizard a kindred spirit, Sienna still felt unsettled when those obsidian eyes landed on her. It reminded her of a beetle’s jeweled shell.
“I know, but sometimes, I can’t help but wonder if he is indeed right. I told you before that I felt adrift in a sea of flame. It’s... getting worse,” she confessed. “It is becoming harder to let go of the flame. I fear that I would one day drown in Aqshy’s eternal cup.”
”Ah, I forget that you mayflies have such struggles,” Kerillian said loftily. “An elf wizard would never know such weakness.”
“Yes,” said Sienna dryly. “Pity we can’t all be elves.” She sighed. “Ah, what must it be like to harness all eight winds of magic!”
”Do not despair, wizard. Does a worm compare itself to the dragon? For a mayfly, you are talented enough.”
“Thanks.”
Their boots crunched over the stone path. Once smooth, the path was broken now, with grass slowly reclaiming the cracked slabs. Day had finally broken, and the Keep was bathed in golden light.
In companionable silence, Sienna watched as Kerillian worked on the forge, salvaging the two worn bows for materials. The heat from the forge prickled her skin pleasingly, and she longed to raise the flame higher and hotter. Just a little, she thought, and she began to build the fire within her, anticipating the heady magical rush...
For your addiction and selfish pleasure, are you willing to let the rest of the world burn?
Sienna turned away, feeling the hopeful flame fading to bitter ashes in her mouth.
No one mentioned it, but everyone knew that the time between each mission was getting shorter, and yet the hordes continued to be relentless, bottomless.
Just a few months ago Sienna would have welcomed this development with open arms. More battles meant more magic, more highs, more dizzying intoxicating ecstasies.
But now, the bright wizard was not so certain as the horrors and death count climbed steadily upwards. Always the heroes seemed to arrive too late, with decaying corpses already choking the streets and fields. Every scrap of victory hard fought and won seemed just that, a scrap, a mere pebble in a boot that was crushing out all life beneath.
With practiced ease, Sienna pulled on her scarlet battle robes. Whispering a mantra of protection, she felt the enchantments tightly interwoven in each seam flare slightly. She had paid a king’s ransom for the garment, but the crone who sold it to her swore that it would never catch fire in battle.
Buckling a thick leather corset around her waist, the fire wizard then wound several rounds of stout chains above it. Holding each end of the chain tautly, Sienna focused her flame into it, pouring more and more until the dull chains glowed a dark, pulsing red. She smiled grimly. Any vermin that tries to grab her from behind would be in for a nasty surprise.
And finally, almost reverently, she put on the Pyromancer Candlegate. The burnished steel gorget augmented the wizard’s power, allowing her to draw even more from the winds of Aqshy. Sienna relished the sweet rush of magic burning through her veins, feeling it manifesting as shining points of light dancing beneath her skin. Power continued to build in her, and the candles arrayed in their holders around her head came alight. A circlet of fire.
With a sword sheathed at the hip and her fireball staff clutched in a mailed fist, she looked every inch a vengeful battle spirit.
Satisfied with her gear, Sienna made her way down to the center of the Keep. It was time for another mission briefing from their enigmatic host, Lohner. Despite his easygoing manner and facade of a simple, aging innkeeper, make no mistake, he was the brains behind the entire operation.
Lohner’s usually affable face was grim as he surveyed the Ubersreik Five. “I am sorry,” he said, crossing his muscled arms across his chest. “But there is no time to rest. We have a problem.”
Turning around, he tapped a finger on the detailed map of the Reikland pinned to the crumbling stone wall.
“Fort Brachsenbrucke is under siege,” he began. “I don’t think I need to remind you how critical it is for this fort to remain in imperial hands...”
Sienna let his words wash over her. Her mind was already on the killing, her blood quickening in anticipation. Thinking of the burning bodies that would soon be piled high caused her to tremble. Clenching her fists, she willed herself to calm down, to pay attention to the mission.
Focus. Deep breaths. She can control this.
As Lohner droned on, an instinct caused her to snap her head up, and straight into Victor’s unwavering eye. The Witch Hunter was glaring at her, his expression accusatory. Guilty, but refusing to be cowed, Sienna stared back just as fiercely. She also threw in a wide saucy smirk, just to infuriate him.
Victor’s eye twitched. Seething, he opened his mouth to bark a caustic comment. “You wi-“
“Aaaaand that’s it, everyone,” Lohner interrupted loudly, clapping his hands together. “I wish we had more time together, but the Reikland is burning and all that.”
”Yes,” echoed Markus, enthusiastically steering Victor in the direction of the Bridge of Shadows. “Let’s make these heretics pay, sir!”
“I’m not finished-“
“Aye, Azumgi!“ Bellowed Bardin, clashing his double axes together and following after them. “That’s the spirit! I can’t wait for my axes to bite into those wazzocks! HYYRGGH!!”
“Must you all be so noisy? Mayflies and Lumberfoots, the lot of you!” Kerrillian sniffed scornfully as she whipped ahead, twin daggers flashing in her hands.
“You are all testing my patience-“
“Hurry up,” shouted Olesya. “I can’t hold this thing open very long. Get in, quickly!” The Bridge of Shadows loomed open, its dome of blue energy shimmering before them.
Sienna bit back a guffaw as she saw Victor being unceremoniously swept up in the rush to the portal. The look he shot at her was murderous.
Readying her staff, the bright wizard took a breath before plunging into the pulsing maw of the waystone.