Dragonfire does not function in this way whatsoever.
From the moment that I was able to use the analytical equipment in the laboratories housed inside the College of Enchantment, I have spent some time trying to analyze exactly what dragonfire is. After a few months of researching the topic, creating and performing various experiments, and running samples of dragonfire through anything that can handle its naturally destructive tendencies, I have come to the conclusion that I have no idea what it is made of.
Likely, the materia that constitutes dragonfire is some blend of particles from the divine realm, which is how most naturally magical and homogeneous materials manifest. The issue lies in the fact that in the physics courses I have been tasked with taking so far, it has become wildly apparent that not even the vaulted center of learning of the Faeth Academy has managed to classify all of the particles that enter the physical realm from the divine. To my knowledge, only absolute monsters like my brother and gods are capable of actually observing the particles directly, and the best equipment developed by enchanters today is only capable of measuring them in very roundabout ways. Corinth could really revolutionize the world of magical theory if he had a mind to.
For the most part, modern academics reference the Divine Chapters, a book of knowledge gifted to a group of dwarves by a Goddess of Knowledge some fifteen hundred years ago. Much of the current understanding of magic is referenced back to this particular set of tomes. Many times, a young researcher believed that they had discovered something new or not referenced in the elaborate portraits and diagrams hidden within, only to discover that they were just the first to prove one of the concepts inscribed inside. According to the Divine Chapters, there are fifty-three basic particles that enter the physical realm from the divine. Just that small number combines to create every magical expression that exists in the world today. The more I learn about the world, the smaller I feel within it.
All of this is to say that the equipment to accurately determine the exact composition of dragonfire does not currently exist. A god probably could, but I’m not in a very trusting mood with them. However, despite not knowing what dragonfire is, I have been able to puzzle out some rules about it.
As far as I have been able to determine, Dragonfire functions like a medium.
Dragonfire(Rank 2):
Conjure flames of consumption, a fire that seeks to grow and consume all that it can reach. Dragonfire is a native ability of all dragons, and its aspects take on the properties of the user’s native mana affixes.
At first, I didn’t understand how I was somehow able to pull the fire affix out of dragonfire and add the cold affix or the corrosion affix. Magic tends to function on conceptual terms, and fire does not often work easily with cold. In fact, the two concepts often have an annihilating interaction with one another inside enchantments. Yet, when I actually took some time to look into dragons themselves, I found that there are records of dragons capable of performing the same feats. The Great White Wyrm Kalifrax once even froze an entire city with her icy dragonfire.
Actually, once I began to dig into dragon lore, I quickly discovered many strange things about the magical beasts, not the least of which being that the weakest adult one would easily be a match for any party of rank four magicians.
Dragonfire itself seems to be a medium for transferring the effects of concepts rather than manifesting them. When I hit someone with my cold dragonfire, it directly imparts the magical concept of cold onto them, which, when done powerfully enough, can be rather destructive. Since dragonfire is a medium, the concepts of others mediums don’t really interact with it, or at least my ability to create dragonfire doesn’t. Despite having gained the sword affix from my fight against Ferro, I still haven’t figured out a way to create sword-affixed dragonfire. Yet, the rule about mediums not mixing isn’t absolute. Despite fire being what I might think of as a medium itself, it is able to be used with dragonfire without any problems. This might be due to dragonfire being so closely linked to the concept of fire itself, but I can’t even begin to guess.
All of this is ultimately to say that finding a way to use the abilities granted to me by my essentia in a non-lethal way has not been an easy task. The best I have managed to figure out how to do is use steel-affixed dragonfire, as it doesn’t burn, or freeze, or corrode. Steel is another medium that dragonfire plays well with for some unknown reason, and the effect is that it is a very efficient way of converting mana into direct and potent kinetic force.
Dragonfire(Rank 2):
Conjure flames of consumption, a fire that seeks to grow and consume all that it can reach. Dragonfire is a native ability of all dragons, and its aspects take on the properties of the user’s native mana affixes.
“Get up, Taz!” Galla roars as the man is thrown across the ground. All through the cylindrical chamber, the crowd overhead makes a thunderous noise, but as the fight drags on, screams begin to overtake the cheering.
Taz’Colinar, the eighth strongest fighter in Faeth’s underground gladiatorial pit, is being knocked around like a rag doll. Honestly, I do feel a bit bad for the man, but that doesn’t stop me from firing more bolts of gray dragonfire at him.
“This truly is a nightmare, ladies and gentlemen,” Galla’s voice rings out. “Our beloved man, a paragon for justice who has stood in the path of many killers and thugs trying to make their climb through the run, can’t seem to get his feet beneath himself. Does this woman have no heart? Does she not care to show us any honor in this bout?” A chorus of booing follows closely behind Galla’s rushed words.
Proving the woman wrong, Taz flips to his feet and leaps out of the way of another bolt of dragonfire lancing down at him. The man’s hand flashes to the side, and the sword he dropped after taking my first assault flies through the air to meet his palm. Three more bolts of dragonfire strike down before it makes half the distance. The man manages to leap out of the way of the first, but the second catches him in the leg, and the third connects with his shoulder.
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A paragon of justice, this man is not. The dwarven man is more like those I have seen outside Faeth: a tan complexion, a long and plated beard, and fiery orange hair. He is no magician, and he seems to practice some path of power that I have never encountered before. His soul emits an aura of some kind, a roiling brown one, but for the life of me, I can’t pin down where his power comes from. The thing I am certain of is that he is not all that strong.
When the first fighter walked out into the arena, and I saw that he was barely of the second rank, I had been a tad confused. Thinking about it further, it makes far too much sense. For any person who completes a full set of essentia, hitting the second rank is simply a matter of time; it is a guarantee. Any progress past that requires real challenge, usually in the form of risking one’s life in life-or-death battles. This arena is a show put on for a cheering crowd, so unless fighters were visiting the monster-infested lands that Faeth flew over during their off-time, they likely wouldn’t make much progress here. Whatever power that Taz’Colinar uses for himself seems to likely work the same way, as he is not any stronger than Raez had been.
Well, perhaps he is, but it is impossible to tell when I don’t allow the man to stand for more than two seconds at a time. At the very least, Taz has taken many more blasts of my magic than Raez managed to. After injuring that man, I have reduced the mana I pour into each individual blast to a mere three hundred mana. They travel much slower, but the odds of me accidentally killing someone are also much lower.
Taz’Colinar screeches in pain as another blast of dragonfire knocks him to the ground. As he tries to stand again, his hand falls to his hip, and he lurches forward, barely managing to stop his chin from colliding with the stone. As black-clad medical staff appear in the arena, I see the issue with the man. The last black of magic seems to have dislocated his hip. The pain of that must be excruciating.
“And our champion has fallen,” Galla calls out to the crowd. “What a fate! What agony! However, if I know this man at all, we can expect to see him back here again tomorrow with his head held high. Everyone, let Taz hear just how much you love him!” As the man walks toward one of the wells of light with a member of the medical staff helping him hobble away, he lifts a fist toward the sky. The crowd erupts in cheering. The people are so distracted by voicing their support for the defeated man that very few notice Galla putting her hand over her lizard’s mouth and muttering to herself, but I do.
“Stall?” she harshly whispers as she also covers one ear to block out the roaring approval of the crowd overhead. The woman’s eyes look down at the stone near her feet, but they are focused on the middle distance. A flare of magic sparks from the earring hanging from her left ear. “You should have taken his booze away more than an hour ago. Are you not seeing what I am seeing?” She pauses for a moment. “Just clean him up enough to lose gracefully.”
The woman lets out a yelp of surprise as I land right in front of her. Galla takes a few steps away as she tries to regain her balance and composure. “Can I help you, Ms. Devardem?” she asks. With a flick of her hand, the magic pulsing from her earring dies away.
The communication enchantment built into the piece of jewelry is rather interesting, but I turn my mind toward a different topic.
“Is my next opponent delayed?” I ask, causing the woman’s eyes to widen.
“Yes. The delay is minor,” she answers. “We were not as prepared as we thought for how swiftly you have managed to win in our humble arena, and as I informed you up front, Hart wasn’t able to make it today. It appears that might have caused some timing issues.”
“Well, if we are waiting, would it be alright if I addressed the crowd?” I ask, turning to look up at the audience above. Rather than returning to their booing of me, the people up in the boxes seem a little bored. Most are distracted by talking to their neighbors, while some leave to either use the facilities or place an order for more food to be brought to them.
Galla’s face lights up. “I think that would be an excellent idea,” she says. “Engaging with the audience directly often leads to far more investment in the fights we put on.”
“I’m assuming that is a double entendre,” I say.
Galla smirks at me and takes her hand off the lizard’s mouth. She turns, addressing the audience and pulling them from their bored waiting. “My good sirs and ladies! It would seem that our challenger, the Nightmare Artist herself, would like to say a few words. Let us take a moment to humor her.”
The range of reactions from those sitting above is mixed, to say the least. Some lean forward in their seats while others continue to filter in and out of the viewing booths. Galla turns and faces back toward me, picking up her loudmouth lizard and depositing it on my shoulder.
I take a purposeful moment to stare up at the faces above me. My emotions aren’t easy to sort. The contempt I see on some of the faces makes me want to throw the whole city out, to label these dwarves as those that hate me just for being human, but it isn’t really that simple, is it? These people are here for a show. Yes, they might not like humans; there is certainly no short supply of those who harbor such prejudice in the city, but that isn’t the case for most of them. To them, I am just a villain that it is fun to boo against. The fact that I am human is just the icing on the cake.
I hum, and when I hear the vibrating sound projected across the arena and know that the lizard perched on my shoulder is doing its job, I begin to speak. “I’ll keep this short and easy, just like all of my fights in this arena so far.” The words get a few of the people above me to throw some booing down, but those individuals are quickly hushed by their neighbors. “A few hundred years ago, the entire world fought together against us. All of you were afraid, afraid of our strength, afraid of our civilization, afraid of our power. You worked together to turn us into serfs and slaves, and now, when one of us appears in front of you, you feel no problem throwing your hate down at us. But, you seem to have forgotten that humanity is something you need to fear.”
The audience above me is deathly quiet as I point up at them. “You forgot why it took the entire world to stop us. You forgot the reason that when children are tucked into bed, they are warned that a human might get them if they misbehave. Tonight, I am going to do all of you a favor and remind you. Every single fighter that you send against me will have to be dragged off of this stone floor, and when they are all spent, you will ask yourselves why you didn’t throw them all against me together. Then, when I stand in front of you, you will remember why you are supposed to be afraid of us.”
In an instant, more than a thousand mana worth of dragonfire condenses in my hand. It crosses the distance between me and the wall of the arena in the blink of an eye. Multiple layers of magical shielding spark to life as the burning fire infused with the growth affix spreads across the shield in a rippling wave. I doubt any of the heat from the flames manages to penetrate the shields, but the spectacle of it earns a few screams of shock and terror from the audience on the other side.
“Here you are,” I say to Galla as I set the lizard in her hand. The woman is still looking up at the burning fire stretching across the side of the arena as it slowly begins to fade. Turning back toward the lights throughout the stone chamber, one begins to ripple as a head starts to emerge from the stone.
“Who let this drunk in here?”
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