Red Winning Entry

The wave struck Mistica at a most inopportune time. Of course, heat was to be expected in the summer months, when the days grew long and the sun sweltering, but none had guessed that the weather would take such an inclement turn this season.

The denizens of Inferno Terrain, however much they commiserated with the populations of Darkwood Hollow (the rivers had all but evaporated, and the lakes were at a decade's low) and the Quarry (much worse a situation, seeing as there was little enough water there in the first place), were beyond pleased at the warming trend. It was after all this sort of environment in which their bodies were the most comfortable. All across the Terrain ran jubilation, as Cheran and Belragoth alike lazed about in the severe sunlight, the flames at their manes and at their tails roaring. It was indeed a beautiful time for individuals given to the fire, the heat.

But the secluded celebration didn't last for much more than a week. Weather, as Mistica had come to know, is as sporadic as fish in the sea; even Pandoria had minimal influence on the patterns of warm and cold. But after seven days of inexhaustible dryness, seven days filled full with reports of spontaneously-combusting crops and third-degree sunburns on Mandoran, the goddess decided something had to be done.

She met with her good friend Rae the next day. Given that the entirety of Ravii Sorin had long been abandoned to the merciless sun, the pair met in the cooler regions of the Blizzard's Realm. Even there, the heat's mark was much in evidence; only slips of ice remained here and there, scattered unevenly about the otherwise rocky, dry landscape.

It was in this condition that they began their negotiations. A dry wind swept about them, disfiguring the exact words, but after many hours an agreement was reached, and confirmed with an open-hearted embrace.The friends (though it was more adequate at this point to call them sisters), parted ways, with each returning to her workshop. For indeed, there was much work to be done.

Day shriveled into dusk, and dusk into dawn, seven times over again. The heat persisted, snapping caustic jaws over all points of the globe, stirring sandstorms to life as one might cackle, and further debilitating the bustle for which Mistica had once been known. Food grew scarce, as an inordinate number of farmers fled their lands for hope of respite further north, and a general sense of paucity enveloped the land. Resources were hard to come by, save for those who had portended a disaster.

But by and by, Rae and Pandoria finished their projects. They had come close a number of times and been forced back an even greater number, but now indeed were they prepared to unleash their creation upon the ailing world.

And as the colors of the eighth evening settled into an engulfing night, the goddesses spread their arms from two opposing points on the globe, and released into the atmosphere a sampling of their magical prowess. Though they could not see one another (for they were indeed far apart), they were connected in this instance by an odd sort of kinship, an undying desire to expunge the swelling scourge that had befallen their home. Here they paused a moment, synchronized, and removed of their robes some amount of sand, contained within a hand-sized bag.

From this point Pandoria called forth the inferno Kratork who had been waiting attentively at her side, the Kratork who had offered her craftsman's touch to the benefit of the world. Of course, this Kratork had much enjoyed the weather; her tail was flaring incredibly, and about her wrists sparks danced robustly. But the weather, boonful as it had proved for her health, had also annealed the sand from Itzair to the Quarry into glass. It was thus a challenge insurmountable to scavenge much more than a bagful. And, to be truthful, this Kratork was proud of her flames, but not nearly as proud of all the wood carvings she'd burnt by workshop accident.

This Kratork was named Sheila, and she grasped in certain hands the proffered sand.

Rae did not have a Kratork, nor did she have an inferno pet. Rather her assistant was a Mandoran, long cursed by winter's touch. His name was Markus, and like Sheila he was much willing to bring the heat to its closure. He was a solemn creature, and accepted Rae's sand with grave necessity. Then, like Sheila, he went to work, all the magic in the world to his disposal.

They finished at the same moment, and unveiled their fashionings at the same moment to the Goddesses of Mistica. The orbs were of course not replica, but they were similar enough in their assiduous craftsmanship and stout framework. The goddesses gave due praise to the creations, and due embraces to the makers. With words of promise and of power, Pandoria and Rae departed for the meeting place in the forest.

It was intensely hot; no, unbelievably hot. But still the sisters came together, each with their precious orb to hand. Their greetings were terse, and evenly exchanged; but then they approached business.

On a tall tree-stump they placed their orbs, which were at the moment empty save for a dim glow of red or blue about their circumferences.

And then they thought, because this was not a matter that had an easy solution. Even for goddesses, this was a complicated work. They touched the orbs whenever they felt the need, and commented upon the differences therein. The sun beat upon them as the discussion lengthened, became something of speculation.

But by night's end, they had some collection of what they would do. The orbs were of course pivotal to the plan. One was fire, Pandoria had made certain of it, and contained within itself all the heat of the stretching, scorching day. The other was ice, taken directly of a cursed winter. Brought together, then... they created a Grace with strength enough to end the Long Heat.

This the goddesses knew, and acknowledged. But they also recognized this Grace, magically-charged as it was, represented only the first step up a winding staircase. The second, and perhaps the most integral to the plan, was finding an individual to intake the orb. But as yet, they did not know who, or when.

But the promised would come, one day, and when he arrived the world would rejoice.