The flames licked above the rooflines of the South Bank, lighting the black clouds of smoke from below. The trees of the Grove of Mielikki burned like torches made for the purpose. Citizens and guards alike passed water along bucket lines, but the crackling inferno swallowed each pitiful splash. Shouting and chaos reigned, but above the thudding of feet and the roaring of flames, voices could be heard shouting that the Lady Tathshandra still remained within, perhaps trapped by the flames, perhaps trying to save her Grove.
One guard -- braver or less aware of the properties of heated metal armor than most -- plunged between the trunks and into the Glade. His screams began almost immediately. Almost as quickly, though, the sweet, commanding tones of the High Priestess of Mielikki rose above his cries of pain from within the heart of the inferno, cutting somehow through the raging fires and enwrapping his voice, too, disregarding one and muffling the other.
And the rains fell.
********
After, when the scorched trunks of the ancient trees stood over the sodden and smoking mess that had been the Glade of Mielikki, official booted feet tromped through the char. Words were said that included "skinny hin" and "firebug" and "arcane" and "last tenday at the Moonbridge a helmite...." and finally a firmly stated "No, that is impossible! It would mean that some arcane caster in possession of a Wards Token is going on a burning spree through the City....." That disputing voice was silenced, though, by the Lady Tathshandra herself.
"Fire," she said, "is a natural process. It takes fire to sprout some seeds. The Glade will grow again. But, Constable, this fire did spring from the hands of a hin. He stepped within the Glade and immediately attacked it. I will see this hin facing the mercy of the Lady for the intent to destroy. Let Mielikki decide whether he was a tool of nature or of desecration."
Firebug
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