The legends once spoke of a spirit of fire.

Not one made born from a gentle whisper of a candle, or the cheerful warmth of a hearth;

A firestorm, a monster, a wildfire devouring everything in its path.

When the spirit stumbled upon Darkroot, leaving burning footprints in her wake, Zahira went cold all over. She hid it behind a cool facade, ready to lay her life down to defend her clan... but she never had to.

Rescue came from the place no one expected: the delicate dancer, Solace. She knew what it meant to live with flame beneath your skin. How easily even the wildest of fires could be caught, beguiled... tamed.

So she danced for the Fire spirit, letting sparks fly across her feathers, calling out to the spirit’s burning heart. And in the rhythm of the dance the spirit heard a heartbeat that matched hers, one that begged her to dance instead of destroy. Entranced, the spirit wove her flames around the Skydancer, learning, listening; and in between one heartbeat and another there was not a flame dancing, but an Imperial.

She dubbed herself Oriana, and Solace her bride; the clan was now not one to be destroyed, but to be protected as her lover begged. Now she patrols the borders, marked by lamp posts with ever-burning flames, and turns to ash any who cross with foul intent.

And at night, when the sun is below the horizon and things of fire sleep... Well, the flames that flare in their little den are no ones business but their own.