Chapter Text
As the nighttime mist settled into the landscape, a group of workers, weary from the days labor and seeking to chase away the spirits of the dark, gathered around the campfire. There, they shared the past days' troubles, news, and complaints. Who injured themself doing something stupid, whose beer had turned bad, who was caught in bed with who.
More and more, it seemed like the complaints reflected anger to the local lord, the taxes that steadily crept upwards, along with the price of food.
It was this and that, until one of them spoke up:
"I heard the Firebearer has shown up around here."
Another one snorted.
"The Firebearer? That's some myth."
"Nah nah," one waved a hand to him. "They're real. I've seen'em. The wanderer with the lantern, yeah?"
"Oh yeah?" He made some grand gesture with his hand. "And did they 'carry the flame of justice and set ablaze the hearts of the masses' like the stories?" The other snorted.
"Nothing like that, but what is true is wherever they go, things get stirred up."
A third grunted in agreement. "Heard about it from my cousin. Three days after they showed up in town, the lord's mansion was ablaze, people cheering in the streets."
"Ha!" One of them slapped her knee. "Well, wouldn't that be nice to have 'em come down here, then!"
"Dunno about that," another muttered. "Heard strange things about that one." The one beside them grunted in agreement.
"Keeps their lantern lit, even at midday."
"Maybe it's a religious thing?" One suggested.
"Could be that it keeps spirits and ghosts away," another commented. "Charms and such that.
Everyone nodded along. They seemed like reasonable theories.
But those were boring answers.
"…I heard-" one of them began. "They keep their soul in there, so no wound can kill them."
"I heard its a genie," another one added quickly to counter. "It can grant wishes but demands sacrifice."
The third chuckled and swept a hand through the smoke from his pipe.
"I've heard its a demon, that they're feeding their own life force to for magical power."
"Ain't never seen them cast magic, though."
"Never seen who cast magic?"
A new voice, one that had everyone else falling silent. A figure strode out of the night mist, lantern clinking at their hip. The lanterns was coated in decorations: drawings stenciled on the glass, little bits of shiny rocks and metal hanging from the edges. One drawing in particular featured an orange skull, drawn across an entire pane of glass.
"Heard the voices, saw the fire," they said, tone cheerful and easy-going. "Could use some warmth and company, if I'm not imposing."
The group shared some uneasy glances and noncommittal, muttered responses, though their answers became warmer when the stranger produced an almost-full bottle of whisky, which they were happy to pass around. The stranger pulled out another flask, but this one turned out to be just lantern oil, which they used to top off their lantern.
"So!" Rust plopped down by the fire, propping their legs out and setting their lantern down by their knee. They grinned, flashing wide, bright teeth. "How's life been, out in this corner of the world?"