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waxnoun (3)Definition of wax (Entry 5 of 5): a fit of temper : RAGE Ellisorielle roams the city of Kugane, after months of living there, she starts to get her way in the massive merchant port. Her eyes are still red from the crying while a massive anger grows in herself. The lid of his hatred and anger break into a thousand pieces. Clouded and misguided her thoughts race in her mind, trying to understand why her friend, someone who protected her for all those weeks and months, now is sending her away. Maybe this is the real Zhan’a, the one the owner of the book she stole spoke about. She shakes her head and wipes away the remaining of her tear, trying to keep a semblance of control over her fiery emotion spewing from her small body. 

She feels like a volcano who its about to erupt. Her vision is red, unable to distinct anything around her, her ears only hear those dreaded words, that she is useless to him. Ellisorielle’s steps stop in the middle of the street, for a moment, clarity seems to return to herself, her faithful companion near her, keeping her safe from anyone who dare approach her. 

She blinks and turns her eyes toward a sound coming from a small shop; there in the middle of shop, a blacksmith is hammering steel and iron, the heat of the furnace blowing on him. The old hyur removes the sweat from his forehead after a long evening of working on his new creation. He gives an approval look at his work, smiling for short instant before he dips the sword into the water near his anvil and smiles.

 His eyes glances toward the street when gentle footstep comes closer to him. He smiles and looks at the young woman, closing on his shop, her eyes glowing strangely in the dim light of the night. He blinks and tilts his head, unsure. “Are you alright Miss?”  His guts react first. years of war and training as a soldier; he reaches for a blade when he sees the looming shadow appearing and englobing behind the young woman. 

It was over before he could act or screams, the flame has charred the whole body, the poor man, clenching the steel toward the exit of his shop, a look of horror and anguish glue on his face. She pushes it aside, making the whole sculpture of ashes break on impact, leaving only the imprint of the shape of the man on the wall near the entrance. Her eyes focusing on her prize, still glowing near the furnace, the shard of fire aether, that are being use by crafter around the world to create marvelous thing. She will make marvelous thing, too.