While we walked through the tunnel, it nagged at me that I had spent far too much time outside the real world.  With various scare quotes and philosophical constructions of what determined “the real world” (which we codename “reality”) versus the place I (my physical and determinative self [which was also a matter of scare quotes and philosophical constructions]) seemed to be.  Part of me wondered how easy or difficult it was to create another world, and the limits thereof; if we walked far enough, would we have looped around somewhere?  Was this Nellie’s lair part of the place Ivan opened or had we passed more thresholds?  Did the rules of portals imply a kind of Zelaznyesque reflection of the worlds and soon we would run into another Viktor or even another Nikolai? 

The ideas of “intent” and “will” and even those of “imagination” run into the argument here as well; my DM has created a world with years to add depth and the effects of our journey in it, and for the purposes of my gaming it is as real to my character as this one is to me, even though at the time we play I’m not experiencing the darkness, or the thrushing sound of Artur’s treelegs (like sea legs, only…not), and the hot wind the way I am here.

I am well aware that I use this kind of philosophical meandering to fill up my brain’s idle sessions.  It’s a great way to be too full for fear.  Alas, if you were going to measure the overall emotional effect of meandering versus a single instance of fear, I think the fear generally wins.  We are wired for fear.  We aren’t wired for philosophy.  (Although I might suggest it for a new race in the aforementioned DM’s worldbuilding.  “Fight, flight, or ponder.”  Nevermind, they were all eaten by sabretooth’d tigers.)

I was able to tell that the light ahead of us was some kind of flame from early on in our walk.  I saw the cage around it as we got closer.  Bits of fire stretched out of the bars, and in the center was some kind of intensity that hurt my eyes to look at directly.  The heat was near blistering, and I would not be surprised to find that I had some sunburn or equivalent on my exposed skin as we moved around it. 

“It wants to be let free,” Artur said.  He stood near it to apparently no ill effect.  It didn’t seem to bother Nikolai either, who sniffed near it.

“What is it?” I asked.  I didn’t offer to go near and unlock the cage or anything crazy like that. 

“It’s an… elemental .  It’s offering to not raise the alarm if we let it go.”

“How can you tell?”  I didn’t hear anything, but then again, I wasn’t part tree.  Or wizard.  Or anything but an idiot for getting myself into this situation.  What’s the worst Peredur could do?  Chew me up before he swallowed me whole? 

And there’s the kind of philosophical meandering that brings on fear.

“Besides,” I continued, “won’t it blow things up if it’s let go?”

Artur didn’t answer. 

“This is one of those moral stances we talked about,” I guessed aloud.  “You’re morally opposed to living a long healthy life or something that you’re telling yourself is more against imprisonment or some other kind of important point.”  I sighed.  “You’re the wizard,” I reminded him.

“Yes, I am,” he reminded me in return as he reached over.  Nikolai pushed me against the stone wall as the light became too bright, even as I closed my eyes, even as I put my hands over them, and I felt… protected.

The dog barked as the light receeded.  “I got it.  Good doggy.  If I had a bone or a scooby snack I’d give you one,” I said.  I couldn’t see anything for a moment, but I could see that I couldn’t see anything, which was hard to say, but at the same time, it made me feel better.  If I couldn’t see that I couldn’t see I would have been blind, you see?

Um.  Yeah.  Nevermind.

“Quick,” Artur said.  “It’s moving inwards.  I think it’s looking for something.”

“Yeah, revenge.   The problem is, revenge here is super-sized and I only ordered a small.”  I kept blinking and there were spots, but I could see we were in increasing darkness.

“Looks like you got a bargain.”  Artur started to move, so I kind of aimed myself at the sound of his rootlike feet.  I tripped over Nikolai, who gave me the kind of look you can only get from a dog when you step on them, and he pushed ahead away from the clumsy human.

 We followed the elemental around a large column and into a grotto of fire.  Well, I suppose in someone’s viewpoint it was probably romantic, and if it had been candles and soft music I could see bringing a non-combustible girl I liked there.  It wasn’t though.  It was screaming and fire, fire in cages, fire in bottles, fire in …

I took a deep breath and tried to focus my watery eyes on it.

The intensity of some of the light was similar to the flare we’d just experienced.  This was one of the reasons why wizards don’t get great health insurance plans.  Extended life, some varieties of magical healing, sure, that was all good, but I was going to get skin cancer just from standing in the entrance of this room.

“It’s a firebird,” Artur breathed.

All the other flame in the room seemed to give attendance, some kind of attention to one reddish-rainbow.  Our hovering elemental guy was dancing around the large cage.  How Nellie had managed to trap the kin of a phoenix… well, maybe Doloise was just making some kind of obscure collection for her. 

I tried to find words to describe it.  Fire is fascinating.  This was more than just the brilliance of light, though.  It was the scintillating blend of colour and feathers and a sense of presence on its own.  Words like “beautiful” seemed too obvious.  Words like “brilliant” were too pale. 

“I’ll do it,” Artur said.  He walked across the room and opened the cage.

All the lights went out.