Where the Magma Flows

It had been a while since she’d come here, and the heat radiating from the cave was welcome after the long walk. The walk – journey – hadn’t been for any political reason. If anything, she was trying to exhaust herself enough to sleep deeply and soundly without the help of Paladin’s concoctions.

She was cautious though, well-remembering Ardyn’s story – hair raising to hear from her son’s lips, and knowing how close he’d come to never coming back – about the saber cat attacking him here. The thought of her son’s near-death experience made her queasy—hells, most of her son’s far-too-many near-death experiences made her queasy. The loss of any of her children would break her.

She snorted as she breathed in a steadying breath, sneezing out the sulfurous stink of the volcanic cave as she pressed deeper and gazed around as she came to the great, molten chamber. The heat was nearly stifling, but she soaked it up with a sigh. Here, even her own brightly glowing coat was challenged among the molten lava and rock rolling past, and she took a seat with her back to the cooler end of the cave, watching the stuff ooze by. Perhaps, by the time she got back home, she’d sleep well.

Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Labhair an Sean-Teanga." ---- "Hear" ---- Think