Kindle

A shortish while ago, during an evening downtime outside…

Holding his position, the bound Elemental; Dijonn flickers atop the tip of his vertical staff. He’d only recently learned to hold his position, when left unattended. He could no longer move independently but at least he could avoid the indignity of being laid flat out in the dirt or dust.

The sweet but tragically timorous Bard; Rifkin had been teaching the morally erratic Fortu to read over the last few months and it had peaked Dijon’s curiosity. Previously he’d only considered paper to be useful kindling but now, in his constrained state, he’s realised that the weird squiggles often scrawled all over it can hold knowledge, and knowledge equals power.

“Can you brighten your flame a tad Dijonn? The sun’s going down and it’s getting harder to see the printed words.”

The magical staff flares brighter behind the sitting Rifkin and Fortu. One of the compensations of his new bound existence is that he can’t now, ever burn out. The staff he inhabits sustains him, but the favour is unsatisfyingly bland, like an endless supply of cheap cardboard.

“Of course my fleshy fellow. I’m happy to help. Can you sing me the ‘ABC’ song again? I think I’m beginning to fathom these weird, black pictographs... ‘F’ is for; Fire!”