She couldn’t resist, she really couldn’t. The dream, it lured her back, she wanted those lost paths, that deadly dance, that fall into her own darkness. She wanted it, so when the words wove themselves before her eyes she could not resist, but opened her mouth and like a song, they wove their magic from her tongue, but what came next was not the journey of hidden dreams, but rather the failing final flight of the Phoenix …
There was no journey through the lands, no discovery, no dance and no graceful fall.
All there was, was the infinite stars, like a flat ocean above the waters of endless time.
The flicker of flame came slowly, snaking from the west with tongues kissing the stars, and igniting their power.
One moment, watching the flame from afar, the next it is all about, and all there is, is the burn.
The stars part, and the fire widens, gapping hole of blackness from underneath, begins to encompass all.
But still the burn, still the fire burns.
The fall is hidden beyond the flame, wait for water to kill it all, but the splash never comes.
The Old Ones are gone, or they never come.
Will it ever end? Burning and falling, falling and burning.
The whack of the ground is jarring. The flame has gone, but the warmth remains.
Black rocks, sharp and unforgiving surround the immediate vicinity.
What is this place? Where is it we have come?