Meghana and the Glassplains Hellkite

[shaker_e]

"A mage who meant to sign up for the course on worm studies, not the course on wyrm studies!" - Making Up Adventurers, Cohost, 2023

The first prompt I made, and the first story I wrote!

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"I'm not-" wheeze "even supposed-" gasp "to be here!" Came the huffed protests of the little mage trailing at the back of the group.

Meghanna The Magnificent (or 'Meg the Mole' as other apprentices referred to her behind her back and also to her face) was not dressed for an excursion onto the Glassplains - she was more prepared for an afternoon working in the Academy's botanical sanctuary. Robes reinforced for kneeling and working in the soil, an apron with sample cups and empty jars, a pack full of tools and the various accoutrements of a mage in the studies of earth and growing were in stark contrast to the tough leathers and spell-woven shields of her classmates. She took care to avoid following the footsteps of the others, whose hard boots broke the thin crust of glass that covered much of the soil here, leaving splinters that could shred her thin shoes to ribbons.

Magister Porphyry, the wizard leading the group, signalled a pause and folded his arms impatiently as he waited for Meg to catch up. "Magus Meglana- "

"Meghanna." Several mages snickered quietly.

"Magus Meghada, that is enough!" He managed to snap and whisper at the same time. "Mixups regarding course assignments are not my problem, they are yours. What IS my problem is that you are slowing us down, making an appalling amount of noise, and generally being a real DRAG during what is supposed to be one of the highlights of this course - the field observations of the Glassplains Hellkite." The irate wizard's volume began to climb, and Meghanna cringed into her robes. "I am solving MY problem right now. If you insist you do not belong here, you may wait right here in this spot. Silently! When we have completed our observations, we will return this way and you may accompany us back to the designated Longjump portal site. Otherwise, come along, and attend. You may learn something of use to you in your, your... worm... studies. I will hear nothing further from you!"

Without waiting for a reply, the Magister turned on his heel with the crunch of splintering glass and stomped away, the other apprentices in the group smirking as they followed along, till Meg was left alone for a moment before shamefacedly trailing after the rear of the group.

Meg found herself unable to really hear Porphyry's whispered descriptions of the Glassyard Heckflier or whatever it was called, however, and instead found her gaze fixed on the ground. The glass was broken here and there by short, small leaves shrubs that pushed their way up through the crust, with thin bark that showed signs of surviving many, many fires. Small sticks and twigs lay in the ground below, long burned, studded with seedpods that had burst open in the heat. "Fire ecology," she mumbled to herself.

She knelt down, doubly grateful for the kneel padding on the front of her robe on the dangerous surface, and poked with growing curiosity at the exposed soil with the tip of the trowel she had brought, turning some over. A surprising amount of creatures began to squirm back under cover - beetles, ants, an earthworm of surprising charcoal black shade. She gently plucked it out, letting it wriggle in her palm. The soft body went from glossy black to ashen grey as she held it, and began to glow just beneath the surface, looking for all the world like a twig of ember in her palm. "Lumbricus... lumbricus ignis. Bonfire worm. Beautiful..." Something about it's presence unsettled her, though. She gently dropped it into a specimen jar with some soil and pocketed it. Bonfire worms. What was it about them?

She dusted herself off as she rose back to her feet, turning back the way the group had come, and froze. The footsteps left by the group positively WRITHED with the black worms, wiggling up from below and spilling onto the surface. Meg took a step back in alarm, sparking a grouchy protest from the apprentice she bumped into. The earth under the nearby bushes was also beginning to shift and churn as bonfire worms erupted to the surface. She suddenly recalled the other name associated with Lumbricus ignis. Wildfire worms. They had a mild mystical property of emerging in the moments before a fire broke out. In some lands they were used as a last moment warning system of sorts to prepare for a burn.

The gathered wizards startled as Meg's voice - usually described as "squeaky" or "mumbly" blasted loudly through bespelled hands. "EVERYONE TAKE COVER RIGHT NOW!" As they turned, they saw her summoning ghostly mole-like claws to the end of her hands and burrowing rapidly into the soil, ignoring the glass cutting her fingers. Then the wise among the group immediately ducked behind their shields, spells flaring up with protection against fire.

Porphyry, angry at this new interruption, began to shout a rebuke, and failed to notice the truly splendid example of the Glassplains Hellkite, crimson and scarlet, sweeping towards the group. Flying barely ten feet above the surface, it began to spew a wall of flame that swept over the group before it, roasting the flatfooted Magister in a single (mercifully short) moment. The surviving magi saw the beast snatch him up with it's claws in a motion described as "elegant" and "graceful" by many of them.

After a few minutes, the limited amount of fuel on the ground burnt away, and other than the smoke, soot and a brittle, thin coat of fresh glass in the sand, most of the evidence of the fire was gone. The worms retreated to the soil, and Meg the Mole poked her head back up from the ground, blinking in the bright light and hot air. "...if anyone is looking for something to fill the gap in their schedule now, I think there's still seats available in Mystic Vermiculture."