Magick, Monsters & Murder

Riniock, lost in the aftermath, hadn't realised someone was standing behind him. The figure remained silent, only the faint scrape of dirt underfoot giving them away. 

 His heart raced as he spun around, the cloth that had masked his face now absent. His lips trembled as he stammered, a weak voice escaping him.

 'Linry?' he murmured, barely audible. The enormity of his actions, the risks he had taken, now weighed heavily on him. He hadn't prepared for this moment – for being caught, for being questioned. 'I can explain…'

 But his fears were misplaced.

 Linry wasn't looking at him. Her gaze was unaverred from the inferno, her expression a mix of fascination and quiet reverie. She seemed just as entranced, captivated by the flames that devoured the remnants of Jorian's chamber.

 Riniock froze, unsure of how to react. She moved past him, her focus wholly on the blazing spectacle. It was as though the fire had drawn her into its hypnotic dance, like a child enchanted by the fluttering of a butterfly.

 'It's beautiful,' Linry whispered, her voice barely carrying over the crackle of the fire.

 'Yeah...' Riniock replied hesitantly. 'Watching fire…it feels profound.'

 'You see it too?' she asked, her tone soft yet earnest. 'How each flame is like a brushstroke on a canvas?'

 For the first time, her words gave voice to something Riniock had felt but never articulated. Moments earlier, he had been similarly transfixed, unable to tear his eyes away from the fiery destruction. Now, through her perspective, he saw it anew – not as destruction, but as art.

 'I see it,' he admitted, a strange honesty in his voice. 'I see it too. But to do it, I had to –'

 Linry's lips curled into a faint smile. 'That man's death…it was irrelevant. If anything, I should thank him. His end created this masterpiece. And it brought me to you.'

 There was no trace of deceit in her tone, no malice in her words. Just simple, honest truth.

 'I've lived my life worshiping the flame in secret,' Linry confessed, her eyes never leaving the blaze. 'I always feared its power would alienate me, that others would shun or even condemn me for it.'

 'They wouldn't understand,' Riniock said quietly. 'They don't understand us.'

 'No, they wouldn't,' Linry agreed, a hint of sadness shadowing her expression. 'But you, you don't hold back, even at the cost of being ostracised. That's very selfless.'

 Finally, she turned to him, her gaze meeting his for the first time. She stepped closer, the warmth of her presence brushing against him. Gently, she took his hand in hers, lifting it towards the flames.

 'Look,' she breathed, her voice intimate and reverent. 'Feel how the fire flares at your fingertips. It's as if it bends to your will, but it's just as unfettered as you are.'

 Riniock felt the heat dancing along his palm, the fire responding almost as though it recognised him. For a fleeting moment, it wasn't destruction or danger – it was power, beauty, and connection.

 'I want to be like that – free, untamed, and unbound, like fire. Like you, Riniock.'

 'Like me?' he echoed, a note of surprise in his voice.

 'I felt it during our duel,' Linry continued, her gaze steady. 'You're no ordinary maegi. I even warned my peers and master against you, but now I see things differently. I want to be like you – someone who can express their deepest, darkest desires without hesitation or fear.'

 Riniock hesitated. His recent actions had brought him nothing but trouble. Yet, beneath the turmoil, they had also given him a sense of exhilaration and fulfilment – a raw, unshackled satisfaction he couldn't ignore. And now, they had drawn him to someone who seemed to share his perspective.

 But there were more urgent matters at hand.

 'What should I do now?' he asked, his voice tense. The longer they lingered, the greater the risk of being discovered. The aftermath of Jorian's death weighed heavily on him, the fear of leaving behind traces gnawing at his thoughts.

 'Did you cast spells inside?' Linry asked.

 He nodded.

 'Then we need to erase any traces,' she said decisively.

 'How? The fire is too intense to go back in.'

 'I'll shield you while you work,' Linry explained, pulling out a small pouch and handing it to him.

 'What is this?' Riniock asked, peering inside. To his confusion, the pouch seemed empty.

 'Null dust,' she said. 'Any spot you stood on, or any place your spells touched or travelled through, needs to be covered with this.'

 'And it'll hide my signature?'

 'Completely,' she assured him. 'No one will be able to trace the spells back to you. But they'll still know foul play was involved once the investigation begins.'

 Riniock smiled, his earlier worries melting away. Something about the confidence in Linry's tone soothed him, making it feel as though the weight of his actions – murder on college grounds – had never existed.

 With her shielding him from the flames' searing heat, Riniock focused on every instance of magick he had cast in Jorian's chamber. Reaching into the pouch Linry had given him, his fingers brushed against a cold, intangible substance, invisible yet strangely palpable. Without hesitation, he scattered the null dust over each location, erasing any evidence that could lead investigators to him.

 'What now?' Riniock asked as they stepped away from the crumbling, flame-engulfed structure. 'Where will you go?'

 'I'll return to the main hall where my peers are,' Linry said calmly.

 'Then I'll head back to my dormitory,' Riniock replied. 'That's where I told everyone I was going.'

 'That's best,' she agreed. 'We should act as though nothing is amiss. Any deviation in our behaviour could raise suspicion.'

 He nodded, understanding the gravity of her advice.

 As Linry turned to leave, she paused, her movement halted by Riniock gently tugging at the sleeve of her robe.

 'Thank you, Linry,' he said earnestly, his voice soft.

 She turned back, her eyes warm and thoughtful. 'We both have things to be grateful for. I hope we cross paths again tomorrow, if fate permits.'

 'So do I,' he replied, releasing her arm.

 With that, they parted ways, disappearing into the night.

 By the time they were gone, the college was alive with chaos. News of the incident spread quickly, drawing students and staff alike to the scene. Groups gathered in a frenzy, working to douse the flames and make sense of the destruction. The uproar left the campus restless, and many spent the night wide awake, grappling with unease and unanswered questions.