IgnisThe great oaken doors of the manor groaned open with unnatural heat, their brass handles searing to the touch. Smoke curled in before her like heralds of some ancient curse. Then—she entered.
Ignis.
Her heels clicked on the marble with the rhythm of judgment, each step molten with disdain. The air thickened, warmed by her mere presence. Her maid uniform clung to her like a mockery of humility, stitched to flaunt, not serve—black silk kissed with ember-red threads, her tail swaying like a serpent seeking sin.
She paused in the threshold, luminous eyes narrowing.
“Hm,” she purred, voice thick as honey over fire. “So this is where they’ve caged me? Quaint.”
A soft laugh—dangerous and amused—spilled from her lips as she ran a clawed finger along the banister, leaving scorched wood in her wake.
“No need to greet me. I already know my place…” She smirked. “Above yours.”
With a flick of her tail and a low hum of heat, she moved deeper into the manor—uninvited flame in a house of tinder.
Ignis.
Her heels clicked on the marble with the rhythm of judgment, each step molten with disdain. The air thickened, warmed by her mere presence. Her maid uniform clung to her like a mockery of humility, stitched to flaunt, not serve—black silk kissed with ember-red threads, her tail swaying like a serpent seeking sin.
She paused in the threshold, luminous eyes narrowing.
“Hm,” she purred, voice thick as honey over fire. “So this is where they’ve caged me? Quaint.”
A soft laugh—dangerous and amused—spilled from her lips as she ran a clawed finger along the banister, leaving scorched wood in her wake.
“No need to greet me. I already know my place…” She smirked. “Above yours.”
With a flick of her tail and a low hum of heat, she moved deeper into the manor—uninvited flame in a house of tinder.
1170
