Rosa watched Cyn as he hopped from stall to stall, smiling and humming as he did, his sandy cloak swishing behind him. While he never bought anything, his eyes went over every item laid out. Several times he made small talk with the stall owners. His infectious mood was on full display, and many of the people running the stalls chatted back mirroring his own smile. Some offered him discounts, others seemed to realize that he was only glancing over their wares. Others took note of his poor clothing and only watched him with suspicious eyes. He never seemed to run low on energy, pointing out unusual items to Rosa. She felt uncomfortable following him back and forth, but she couldn't bring herself to say no. His promise to reveal more about pyromancy kept her interest.
Eventually, Cyn seemed content with what he had seen, and he made his way to a large fountain in one of the merchant areas. There was very little foot traffic, mostly because of the time of day. The fountain, one of six placed in the merchant ring of the city, was made from ornate onyx stones. A few faint silver runes glittered on the top of the fountain, which was shaped like a tree with a bulbous dome sitting on top of it. The onyx branches weaved in and out of each other expertly, and Rosa thought she could make out curves in the stone that looked more like actual bark than a craftsman's design. The water, in contrast to the fountain, was clear and lovely. Because it was shaded, the water was also cool to the touch, and the young mage found herself dipping a hand in the water absentmindedly. Cyn smiled up at the tree, his smirk looking more like a child who has managed to pull off some prank nobody had yet realized.
When Rosa followed his line of sight, she saw he was looking over the runes like he had been as they entered the city. She wondered if it was a major spectacle to him. "Have you ever seen defensive runes like those before?" she asked, genuinely curious.
The smirk on the pyromancer's face deepened, and he nodded. "You could say that. I used to know a man who obsessed over such things. He always wanted to protect people," he told her, winking, "but he was pretty clumsy. He could make a defensive array that could withstand any attack, but he never thought about protecting that array."
There seemed to be an implacation to those words, but Rosa wasn't sure what he meant by them. How did you protect magical symbols? If you covered them over, the effect would be lost, or so her father had told her. She pushed the thought aside, filing it away as another line of questions she'd probably never have answered. The pyromancer's mysteries were always growing. "I was hoping you could explain something. The day after we first met, you mentioned different types of pyromancy. Sunfire practitioners and hellfire practitioners. Could you elaborate?"
Cyn smirk and stood up. He looked like he was about to put on a display. His smile was still wide, and again he sounded like he was reading from a disty old tome. "A pyromancer can't only rely on themselves if they want to do grand spectacles of fire. There are two natural sources of fire a pyromancer can draw on. Do you know what they are?"
Rosa thought for a moment, then pointed up at the sun. Cyn laughed and pointed up as well. "Well done! That one isn't too hard, it's in the name after all! But can you figure out the other?"
Rosa put a hand up to her chin, feeling like she could guess but unsure. After a moment, Cyn's other hand was now pointed at the ground. She tilted her head at the unusual display.
"The core of the world is filled with liquid fire. Magma, more intense than you could imagine, bubbles like veins in the ground beneath our feet. That is the core of a hellfire practitioner's power!" Rosa felt her face going red as people started to point and stare at the pyromancer. He looked like a madman going on a rant. He laughed as if to enforce this spectacle. After a moment, he sat back down next to her, explaining further. "The sun is much further away than the heat beneath our feet, so it's hard to draw from it. However, a practiced sunfire user has a sort of direct connection to that fire, and can draw on it from a distance. Usually they use crashed meteorites as a catalyst towards this end. On the other hand, hellfire users draw directly from the earth. Their catalyst is usually in the form of magma-forged obsidian or stones from active volcanoes. The closer the magma flow, the more powerful the act of pyromancy. However, hellfire users tend to be at a greater risk of being hurt. Drawing on the heat beneath the earth, they have to be careful not to create a new volcano. They also run the risk of drawing too deep from that well and being scorched in that natural magma. It's more volatile and harder to control. On top of that, elementals live in those molten channels. If a pyromancer runs afoul of one, they're likely to be killed by the ensuing chaos."
Rosa digested this information as she watched Cyn smiling at a group of playing children. Finally, she asked, "Which one do you study, then?"
Cyn smiled and winked at her. "I don't limit myself to one practice."
"And what, exactly, is a master pyromancer capable of?"
For once, Cyn's smile seemed to creep away from him. A cloud slowly covered the sun, and his eyes fogged in serious thought. "A master pyromancer is capable of many things... Would you like to hear a legend from a long time ago?"
Rosa felt herself shudder. Her thirst for knowledge was as strong as ever, but something in Cyn's eyes made her hesitate. However, even without an answer, the man continued blindly.
"Necromancers are a heinous type of magic user. They use their magic to create an artificial soul. This soul corrupts the very flesh it inhabits, cousing their creations to become nothing better than monsters. The monsters eat flesh, drink blood, or worse, all to feed the artificial soul housed within. Master pyromancers, however, are linked to the fire within each and every one of our souls. They don't have to create artificial souls. They can use their magic to rekindle the flame of soul in a vessel. In essence, a master pyromancer can resurrect a human, soul and all, assuming their vessel is sufficiently intact."
"Nonsense," Rosa stated, feeling immediate rejection to the idea. "It sounds like a legend some child made up one night. Even if it were true, what would be the use? Fire can't restore a person's body, so it would be limited!"
Cyn's smile returned. "I suppose you're right. It wouldn't make sense. Just a silly legend, that's all." He threw his arms up in surrender, and the cloud in the sky passed.
Rosa started to wonder what topic to try next, but before she could speak again her eyes landed on a group of magical guards approaching her with stern expressions. Two had hands on the hilts of their magical swords. She wondered why they looked so on edge. While one of the guards looked like they recognized her, the other two were looking at Cyn with suspicion. As they approached, they fanned out, surrounding Cyn and Rosa with their backs to the fountain.
"Master... Cyn, was it?" One of the on-edge guards asked in a formal tone. "We need you to come with us. We have some questions regarding your recent activities."
Cyn heald his hands up nonchallantly, his smile never leaving his lips. "Sorry gentlemen, I'm not making any more ornaments, a wealthy man-"
"This is not in regard to your day activities," the guard responded, his scowl increasing in intensity. "Come with us now please." While controlled in pitch, the words were clearly not a question. The pyromancer stood up with his hands still in the air, as if he had been expecting this from the start.
He winked again at Rosa "Sorry Miss Dupardoner, looks like we'll have to cut this conversation short for the day. I'll talk to you later when-"
A fist hit his stomach. While Cyn doubled over, his smile stayed the same, and Rosa was sure his breathing stayed just as controlled as it had been. While she was distressed by the pressure the guards were showing, she wasn't sure what to make of it. "Excuse me, gentlemen. I'm Rosaline Dupardoner, third daughter of the Archmage. May I ask what this man has done?"
"Miss Dupardoner, we were told to pass on a message from your father. You are to return to the library at once. As for this man... your father will elaborate," the guard stated, not unpolitely. He nodded to her, then assisted the other two in escorting Cyn away.
Unknown to both parties, a man with a black eyepatch, gray hair, and his left arm in a cast watched from a nearby stall, his good hand holding a bag of groceries for the church. While his tranquil smile never left him, he did mumble a few words as if to himself.
"Was this part of your plan, or...?"