The Fire Consuming

Astarlane was not with them. She was gone, folded into her cloak on the other side of the fire, her mind somewhere else entirely. She had been here before, in brief moments and scattered audiences, but she sensed this time was different.

She floated towards a throne that was not a throne. She saw a face that was not a face. She heard a voice that was not a voice. Such solid thoughts gained little traction in the not-reality. Important here were the concepts of things, authority given simply by consideration.

There was an exchange. It happened instantly, but Astarlane would later rationalise it for the sake of memory.

You have done well. I am pleased.

Patron, you are gracious to grant an audience.

There was an abstract sense of blessing. You have power. I intend to add to it.

I am but an instrument of your will, Great One.

Good. I will send word soon, through a lesser messenger. Rest now.

Astarlane delicately backed away from the not-a-throne, allowing the vision to evaporate.