Nearer to the Flame

The ceremony for the children was brief, and after Mercurion had recited his prayer, everyone agreed it was time to take a breather. Rahsaan was about to approach the paladin to compliment him on the wake, but stopped as he felt a slight burn in his chest. He looked down and noticed the mask rubbing against his skin, now emitting a faint blue glow.
“Voriel, what are you doing?” He asked softly, though the angel gave no reply. Come to think of it, he hadn’t said anything since the encounter with the shambling . . . whatever that was. Rahsaan rolled his eyes as he sat down in place cross-legged, and stared directly into the tarnished silver face.
“If you’re not going to come to me, I’m going to come to you.”
Within seconds, tendrils of colorful smoke drifted off the mask, as if it was dissolving in his hands. It stayed intact however, and Rahsaan looked up to see the area before him was similarly affected; streams of smoke carried away by an unfelt breeze radiated from the gravestones and the oaks that hung above them. His companions were gone, and he could only see for several feet in each direction, anything beyond that was just an endless gray haze. However, Rahsaan could soon see a faint white glow radiate from the murk, steadily growing brighter. He stood up and strode toward the light,  and a second later a blue flame emerged out from the fog, similarly whipped by by the wind. It coalesced into a humanoid figure, a pair of silver eyes flaring to life in the closest the thing had to a face. The creature stood over Rahsaan, though did not speak first. For his part, Rahsaan kept his casual composure.
“So this is what you really look like?” He asked.  
“Actually, no.” Voriel replied. His form didn’t move as he spoke and he had no discernable mouth, instead Rahsaan still heard the voice in his mind.  “ I am still a spirit drifting through the mists. What you see is a projection I am able to send to you, a result of our bond strengthening.”
“How did that happen? Rahsaan asked, “Was it just from reading that book?”
“In a way.” He looked at his flailing appendages, which were his closest approximations of hands, “Seeing the language of the heavens reinvigorated me in a way I have not felt in a long while. While it is a pity it turned to ash, there may still be other ways to further restore my power-”
He looked back up to the young man, “-and allow me to pass it on to you. I would have preferred that you fought back against that fiend in the basement, instead of merely fleeing from it.”
Rahsaan frowned, “We all survived, laid the children to rest, and made sure no one else will ever become a victim to that damned house. I couldn’t imagine that going any smoother.” He paused, “Well, besides keeping my footing on the roof.”    
Voriel gave a nod, “I agree, you did well escaping the clutches of that cursed abode. Yet, my elation is tempered; for you see, what transpired here is only the beginning. There are far more horrors to be found in Borovia.”
While he only had a vaguely humanoid form, the angel turned from Rahsaan and gazed into the mists, “When you escaped Nova Vaasa, I thought we might find refuge, a place where we may avoid the prying eyes of your enemies. There, undisturbed you may have been able to reach your potential. If what you just survived is any reference, we have come to a domain that presents even greater danger. Though we may be beyond the reach of the Iron Faith, there are others here far more eager to strike down a champion of light.”  
Rahsaan gulped uneasily, “Then, we have to run again, seek out another land?”
“No. We are not going to run.” Voriel said, turning back to Rahsaan, “I realize now that finding a secluded place where I can hone you into a weapon is impossible. These mists will not allow it. It is not enough to merely exist, you just fight back against this darkness, despite your physical limitations. While I would prefer to wait, the time must be now.”
Voriel’s form dissolved into a tall pillar of blue flame, reaching high over the aasimar.
“You are a torchbearer, wielding the cleansing flame. You will no longer hide in the misted shadows, you shall stand in the light. Those who dare oppose you shall face the fire of divine judgement. Reach out and accept my power.”
Rahsaan took a step toward the roiling pillar, yet he paused before taking another, “Must I be a wildfire, burning all in its path?”
“This will allow you to reach your potential,” Voriel replied, “to become a champion worthy of the celestial blood within your veins”.
“But there are many uses for fire!” Rahsaan said,  “Torches that light the way for others, campfires that provides warmth and fellowship. Can I not wield that kind of light?”  
Voriel let out a patient sigh, “That will not be enough, Rahsaan. Your enemies are not those who can be won over, or be reasoned with. You must be able to destroy them, before they destroy you.”
Rahsaan still held his ground, starting into the pillar of fire. Why did Voriel fail to see that there was more to be done than just striking down evildoers? Couldn’t the angel give him the power to heal and protect? Still, he knew it would be foolish to turn the spirit down; if only greater peril lay ahead, he needed all the help he could get. Rahsaan took a deep breath of the tasteless air; and reached his hand into the flame.
The flames streamed through his skin, surging up his arm. In shock he cried out and pulled back, his entire right side of his body wreathed in the unnatural flame. And yet, he felt no actual pain- his heart still raced as if it hadn’t realized he hadn’t actually been scorched. The fire soon died down, and the young man was left staring at his open palm, pale sparks dancing through the air.
“You now wield the flames of heaven. Should you face a foe you cannot defeat, call for me, and I will aid you in battle.”
Rahsaan opened his eyes and looked around, finding himself seated on the ground, the mask still cusped in his hands. The landscape had returned to its normal dreary self, a gentle breeze rustling through Rahsaan’s hair. The glow from the mask faded as Voriel said, “Now, maybe get some sleep. You’ve had a long day.”
Voriel didn’t have to explain what he had done any further- Rahsaan knew instinctively what he was now capable of.
“More ways to hurt, kill others?” Rahsaan thought to himself, letting out a sigh. Regaining his senses, he looked in the direction of the so-called 'Unbribable Borcan.'
“Does your God not give you what you want, either[?”

"How now, my muttering friend?" The armored man held his helm by one of the curving horns in an almost lazy grip. His grin was creased with weariness, grime and soot making strange patterns across his neck and cheeks. "Oh, you speak of the goddess Ezra- she sustains me; no more, and no less." The battle-worn paladin took a breath, as if to continue, but he checked himself, adding almost as an afterthought: "It is not my place to question her mysterious designs."

Rahsaan looked up at Sir Mercurion, briefly caught off guard by the response. He realized he hadn't poised the question to himself and instead had stated it aloud. He climbed to his feet and brushed the hair from his eyes and said, "I'm just . . . the blessings she gives you; did you ask for them specifically, or do you accept what you receive?"

Rahsaan held a searching gaze, as if he was trying to deduce the answer before the knight could reply.

"A curious question. What choice does one have, other than acceptance?" Genuine wonder tinged the knight's voice. "Her gifts were spontaneous, an outpouring of grace into an undeserved vessel. I ask only for the courage to face the unrighteous world. As the First Book of Ezra tells us, flesh and steel may fail, but the light of faith shines forever." Mercurion's gaze drifted away from his companion, looking out over the somber but peaceful graves.

"Or perhaps that was the Second Book of Ezra." Mercurion's attention snapped back to Rahsaan, his murky brown eyes intense above that chronic grin. "Either way, it is a good passage and my point stands." The Borcan chortled and slid the fearful spined helm back onto his head. He regarded the monk for a moment. "Does that help matters any?"

Rahsaan followed Mercurian's line of sight, reflecting on the knight's reply. What choice did Rahsaan have? Either accept Voriel's gifts, or die at the hands of some eldritch fiend.

Or run and hide, protecting his own skin.

He resumed eye contact upon realizing Mercurian was staring at nothing in particular. "Perhaps, maybe. With one question answered, more are revealed. But, I understand that you may be even wearier than I. We should both take some time to rest, unless we plan on becoming martyrs."