Tumnus gazed off into the dessert sun that reflected into his eyes of the various pieces of sand. The fire in front of him burned brightly as the fire caught onto more of the larger pieces of wood. He had started the small fire from a small piece of his shirt and some other extremely small sticks and twigs. He had slowly built the fire into the blazing glory it was at the moment. And that was exactly what seemed to capture him, how a fire would have to be built for many minutes by man yet it would randomly come alive due to nature’s call. This is what Tumnus wished to do and what he hoped the Burning Fist’s training would allow him to do.

While he knew he would never to perform such amazing feats as a dragon’s fiery breath, Tumnus wanted to control the fire that was his cousin’s bane. While all the other species of trolls were deadly afraid of fire, Tumnus and his line of fire trolls had a power over all trolls. They were simply resistant to fire. While many other fire trolls had simply used this as an advantage to control other trolls, Tumnus wished deeply to use his natural abilities and the abilities learned from the Burning Fist to combat the wrongful deeds that his race had done and would continue to do.

After his slight reverie, Tumnus turned his full attention to his fire. The wind came from the north east, blowing straight into his face, throwing his hair back far behind his head. He quickly realized that the flames of the fire would soon start turning upon him and the blankets he had covered himself in. The blankets were thoroughly frayed from his long nights on the road which would only add to their attraction of the flames. Tumnus once again ran over the properties of fire in his mind, mentally preparing himself for his upcoming trials and training in the Burning Fist. The first thing that came to Tumnus’ mind was the dependency of fire on another source to give it the correct power to alight and grow strong. While a fire could spread across miles of forests and wreak havoc on whole cities and towns, a fire’s beginning was always humble. The conditions to which a fire could start were varied but they all began with a twig, dryness, and of course a spark.


Tumnus watched for many hours, the flares continually changing as the wind changed, until the only thing that was left was the very smoldering ashes that had once created the blazing fire. As Tumnus fell asleep, he replayed all of fire’s mysteries in his head until he went to sleep under the night stars. A final ember burned out leaving the pit completely grey and black where colors ranging from a raging red to a sunny yellow had been only a couple of moments before.

“Fires burning bright, fires burning low, fires burning not at all,” whispered Tumnus as he fell of into a deep slumber.