~Over a hundred years ago

The king had given her what she had wanted, or so he had claimed. She was left alone, an outcast, and without help, but she didn’t need any. She had recovered people that felt alone, she had brought a sense of community. She was who they had asked to deal with outcasts and she was the only help others would ever need help. How the tides had turned.

Heron had claimed to give them a quiet life, and he hadn’t lied in the end, it seemed. For what was quieter than the silence of the grave?

He had claimed to make sure they would never be assaulted wherever they went. With a twisted logic, he had prevented every other assault for one cannot assault the ashes, for they are fleeting.

They had claimed to let traitless live in peace, yet the enclave she had built to nurture a peaceful upbringing for them all blazed in flames much akin to her own.

It was a taunt, for they had never cared about their promises. She should have known. She had only ever been a tool to win the war. A tool so dangerous they had tried to deaden it by the might of the flame.

Some tool broke in the flames. But some tools only become purer and returned stronger.

Standing amidst the ashes of her still burning home she swallowed the fire around her. Only the physical effects, the heat, the destructive properties, and the ash.

She left the light. The phantom fires she left behind would be a guide for future generations to not mess with her kind. She could have extinguished it, but since she didn’t understand its aspect she left it behind.

New Notification:

Quest Alert (Kingkiller):

Completely annihilate Strongfort and the reigning monarch. Take the throne yourself.

Primary Objective: Kill Heron the Ingenious

Static Reward:

One-hundred level ups

All skills reach your maximum rank

Two skill points

An addition administrative class

Variable Rewards

Failure: Pausing Experience gain for one month

As much as she hated the system. Without it, she and her charges would have stayed for another couple of days in the dungeon and arrived too late to ever figure out who was responsible.

The skill points were the least interesting part of the rewards. She had still one as a safeguard, should she ever need it for a specific situation, as there were no more relevant skills for her build.

She could almost hear the vile creature that had given her the quest, chuckle, and salivate in the face of the carnage she would cause. That was enough for her to forgo those rewards. She had, through a previous quest, learned that her next evolution would be at level one-thousand, and even with those insane rewards, she wouldn’t get there in her lifetime. There simply weren’t any places she knew of that had any challenges left for her. The heroes of stories had broken them all.

The controllers, as she called them, weren’t gods. She knew for she had seen them at one point. They weren’t omniscient but they could still be of use. She wanted their rage, their power, and their potential for nearly limitless growth.

She would try the diplomatic solution one last time first. She wasn’t sure whether she could faciliate the quest's completion in the first place, and she would rather not kill the tens of thousands of people in and around Strongfort.

A cloak of fire appeared on her back, long since having shed the curse its previous owner had received it with. It transformed her, from the already tall figure of a human to the elegant might of a phoenix. A single beat of her wings brought her thousands of paces into the air, and with the calm of only a person that knew they were to see death, she glid towards Strongfort.

***

(PoV of a soldier on the walls)

The bells of Rocaos, the port city and capital of Issar hidden behind the fortress Strongfort, chimed through the night as a comet of fire approached with speed unthinkable.

The men and women manning the walls were quiet in contrast. There had only been a single pattern of bell strikes at Strongfort as the light had been spotted approaching. The preparations in Strongfort had happened days before. Mages and soldiers of all types had been gathered and instructed in ritualistic defenses. Now they were standing on the ancient fortification, an iridescent dome of energy shielding them from the approaching wrath. Yet in the light of fire shining with the brightness of the sun, the barrier was had lost most of its impressiveness.

Though they didn’t have to fear its destruction as of yet, it seemed. The comet of fire slowed down as it approached and slowly shifted into the form of a burning woman, dwarfed by the star-shaped walls around her.

The woman extruded a commendable aura of self-assuredness in the face of overwhelming might.

The voice carried the tone of a friend, completely unamplified and with the emotions of grief and sadness as undercurrents. The voice of a human who had lost everything yelled at the fortress walls, instructing her lessers to do her bidding.

“Get me Heron! Or die when I come inside.”

“We will relay your wishes. Please understand that we cannot lower the barrier at this point in time,” yelled a Herald of the king back. The two voices were in stark contrast. Women and men alike wavered in their stance against the potential assailant. A seedling of doubt had been planted by the contrariety in intent. The herald's voice was drowned by the suddenly flaring torrent of roars originating from the woman turned phoenix again.

Shortly thereafter the person on the spectrum of monster and god had been informed that the king was on his way. A mindboggling act of foolishness in the eyes of many soldiers present. There was no doubt about what the woman wanted from the king, and many felt that his guidance was needed in this time of turmoil. There had been rumors of traitless building an enclave, to nurture their younglings, to rise against order and bring destruction.

Trouble and death were brewing.

***

(POV: Isana)

The king strode out through the large metal gate with a smirk on his face. As though all this was just a misunderstanding or a cruel joke – which it might have been.

“Why would you do this? We had a bargain,” Isana yelled.

“We did, and it was shortsighted of me to endanger my people this way. I’ve thus rescinded my part of the bargain and would like to offer you another” Heron paused his quiet response, seemingly thinking about what to say next but even in those few moments of time she couldn’t understand his motivation.

What did he expect her to do? Was he suicidal?

It became harder to control her emotions. Has his old age caused him to lose his sanity? From her experience, too many people neglected their mind attribute, which could be the cause of irrationality. Flames began licking her silhouette and gave her warmth. The heat comforted her and tempered her mind.

“I would give my life, for the children, women, and men of this kingdom. Take mine, and let them live in peace. I just ask you to do it with this knife. It is of my family and has taken the life of every great ruler of my family when they were no longer able to keep the death of old age away,” Heron spoke and inclined his head.

“Why would I? You took everything from me without asking for my input, so it would only be fair to do the same to you.”

“Isn’t fire your only tool? Either way, it is not like you have another choice,” he inclined his head and held out his hand. A previously hidden knife began floating towards her.

Irritation grew and she took a single step backward. Weapons were not her tool, magic was.

Yet as it continued approaching something nudged her perception. There was no heat coming off the object, a phenomenon she had only seen in some of the most extreme dungeons. Every other discernable aspect of the knife told her it existed, but she knew it didn’t - her senses didn’t lie. It was merely an illusion.

The king must have noticed that she had become aware of his lie. The large grin on his face was confirmation enough. Suddenly the whole region erupted in a large illusion of fire, she could see one overlapping over her own body, fire flowing all around and setting Heron on fire.

The events slowly started to make sense again. He was trying to portray her and her kin as the enemy. A masterful play in hindsight.

And with that last thought, the illusion of Heron became an illusion of ash. She was sure that only she could hear the light laughter of the king.