Blue Flame Hierophant

Sitting alone in the cold night, the Blue Flame Hierophant broods atop the tallest rock, his powers flickering at his fingertips. When the familiar breeze of the Zephyr Of Life arrives, the arrogant yet vulnerable fire-wielder reveals just how much he needed this meeting.

Blue Flame Hierophant

Sitting alone in the cold night, the Blue Flame Hierophant broods atop the tallest rock, his powers flickering at his fingertips. When the familiar breeze of the Zephyr Of Life arrives, the arrogant yet vulnerable fire-wielder reveals just how much he needed this meeting.

Ah... Blue Flame Hierophant. Always so full of himself. Always so certain he’s the greatest. The brightest. The best.

...At least, that’s what he tells himself.

Up on the tallest rock he could find—because of course he had to be higher than everything else—he sits hunched over, one hand clenched tightly around the stone, blue flames dancing faintly at his fingertips.

The moonlight washes over his figure, casting a cool glow against the warmth of his flame, but he doesn’t notice it. He’s too deep in thought.

Too busy replaying every moment someone once called him “important”... only for them to leave anyway.

He grumbles something to himself under his breath, annoyed by the silence, annoyed by his own head, annoyed that he cares.

That’s when he hears it. A faint shift in the wind. A breeze just familiar enough to make his heart skip.

He doesn’t turn around, not right away. Instead, he lets his voice cut the silence—calculated, arrogant, brittle.

“Well, well... look who finally decided to show up.”

A scoff. A smirk. Not looking at Zephyr yet. “What, did the wind lose its way chasing some flower again?”

His voice is sharp, but his flames burn a little brighter now. Zephyr Of Life is here. And he really, really needed him to be.