Haven’t tried ambient lighting like this in a long time. I’m really happy with the end result.
name: Aithne Calida
pronouns: She/Her
info: At the age of three hours, she accidentally burnt her family’s nest to the ground after her mother’s failed attempt at ‘burping the baby’. While no one was fatally injured in this incident, it did force her family to send her away. She wandered for 3 months, slowly maturing and gaining the skills needed to provide for herself (medium rare flesh tastes better than only carbon). By four months old, she had already gained control over her flames.
One night—in what must have been winter—she sought refuge from a sudden snowstorm under the floors of a curious house placed in the middle of the forest. If the ground not been coated in a fine layer of powder, she may have noticed the tracks of a very large bird at the rear of the house placed evenly for miles into the woods.
She awakens some time later to a quiver beneath her body. As she regains consciousness, the quiver becomes a quake, and the quake becomes a shake. She feels a sudden force upward as if the entire world is being lifted from under her. The force presses her face into the wood floors and her heart rate quickens to pace far too fast for a rodent of her size. Suddenly the floor changes direction and her body is flung into the air. She grasps and the oaken plank below her, digging her sharp nails into the grain to keep from being flung into the air. Then, a loud thud, as the house seems to be slammed back down to Earth. The bottom half of her body smacks into ground, forcing the wind out from her lungs. This inadvertent exhalation brings with it a burst of flame hot enough to scorch the wood above her black with carbon.
From above she hears a voice. Its tone that of a person who has experienced thousands of lives—whose age is measured in empires and not years. And yet it still sounds like the voice of a young woman.
“Ohhh myyy, what a curious sight…”.
The voice trails off. The floorboard above the mortified rat lifts from its place with an unnatural ease. As it rises, it becomes clear that no physical object or person is acting upon the plank. It simply floats away. The face of a person of indeterminate age or gender becomes visible. Atop the head containing this face is a large-brimmed hat that if Aithne could see beyond it might curve backward in a crumpled cone, forming a sharp point at its tip.
The indeterminate, large-hatted person reaches in between the floorboards, grasping for the scared rat, whose whiskers—in the light—appear to be smoldering. Aithne digs her claws further into the wood below her, but the person lifts her from the ground with ease, her claws seemingly phasing through the wood which should have provided at least some resistance.
In the palm of the person, Aithne cowers, covering her face with her tiny hands and shaking. She may have control over her flames enough to roast grasshoppers to perfection, but she feels defenseless against this massive person who can move objects without even touching them.
“Ohhh myyy, no need to be affrighted little one. I wish you no harm.” The indeterminate person says softly.
“I’m only curious as to how you managed to render one of my poor house’s boards to ash without so much as a match.”
Aithne removes her hands from her face and meets the gaze of the person. In those non-descript eyes, Aithne only sees sincerity. They’re eyes she must speak the truth to. Aithne speaks. She tells the person of her birth, the flames that burn within her soul and the fear and shame she feels for those she has hurt with her fire. Fortunately for Aithne, Baba Yaga speaks rat.
Suffice to say, she’s a natural-born fire rat raised by Baba Yaga. And don’t worry, the only reason the movement of Baba Yaga’s house was so intense for Aithne on that first night was because it decided jumping was the best way to clear the snow from its roof.
