Silence the Flames

“Those candle flames were like the lives of men. So fragile. So deadly. Left alone, they lit and warmed. Let run rampant, they would destroy the very things they were meant to illuminate.”

― Brandon Sanderson, The Way of Kings

There was a caricature of silence in the realm; a void of absolute nothingness that demanded the ears, eyes, and tongue to reach out and grasp the space’s meaning. It was the first observation that Runa could obtain in her mind as she passed through the roots of an ancient doorway.

Runa wasn’t confident she was moving, but the familiar sensation of muscles contracting underneath her skin calmed her anxiety. The one piece of advice that Runa had received prior to walking through this portal was that the only way through the abyss was forward. She planned to plow through any obstacle - or lack thereof - to make it to her goal: the cradle of the Bolvanir.

Seconds stretched into minutes as she walked, and minutes led into hours, and hours made way for days, and days bowed before weeks and months; eternity was every inhaled breath in the choking darkness that refused to release its commanding grasp from Runa’s senses. She could only tell the passage of time from the way her limbs stiffened and began to creak with each step.

Warm light broke the monotony and began flickering in the void. Here, Runa could finally see what she had journeyed through this endless darkness for.

Seven flames roiled against the darkness, each set upon a cracking, eroded pillar of stone. At the base of each one, hundreds of tiny lights like fireflies danced, awaiting her outstretched hands like a wish yet to be dreamed.

With patient eyes, Runa observed as the pillars groaned and cracked further before her eyes. Smoke billowed out in long plumes, choking the empty air around her with ash and soot. This is what she and the others needed to see; the cost of letting these flames run rampant.

This was the cradle of the Bolvanir, where the souls of all the cursed who walked their world resided, and Runa was here to dim these fires and save the pillars from ruin.

With curled fingers, she scooped up the little 'fireflies', their warmth tickling her skin. She shoved them into pockets and pouches, hastily covering their light, but as she did so, the fires upon the pillars grew more erratic.

Steeling herself, Runa put her back to them, her pockets full of the little souls, but there was to be no retreat, for the seven flames shot out, their appendages seeking the warmth of the children she sought to take.

Within their embrace she ignited, her body engulfed by a multitude of colors and heat. The tiny lights she had coveted flew out of her pockets, joining in with the flames to swallow her whole.

In the quiet of the void, a new flame kindled and danced in the endless darkness.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE:

I'm beginning to love these shorter challenges, as they lessen the stress of trying to flesh out every detail of my world-building. A 500-word limit for a High Fantasy story was something I had to try, and I think it came out pretty nicely! Thank you, Matthew, for the amazing prompt!

A huge thank you to Ian Read for being my second pair of eyes and for helping me brainstorm for the title! c: You can read his hilarious entry below!

And if YOU dear reader want to try this challenge for yourself, go check out Matthew Fromm's article below for the details, and also consider checking out his other work too!

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