A distant flame

“We cannot wait any longer. The flock grows restless. We must begin soon, mistress! Humanity must be made pure!”

The room is lit by a blazing fire in the center. The heat is intense, though the robed figures surrounding it seem unbothered. All of them are completely concealed by their red robes, save for one. Seated in a iron throne, the metal discolored as if from repeated heating, is humanoid figure. The flickering light of the fire obscures their features as they speak, in a deep but feminine voice.

“You forget yourself in your zeal, boy. We begin when I say we do. I have spoken with the Purified One, and I understand his eagerness. However, you must know your place. This order only exists by my sufferance. Without me, you are powerless. Do you understand?”

The robed figure immediately drops to his knees, bowing. “Yes mistress! We all serve the avatar of flame! In your fires we become pure!”

The other robed figures repeat the phrase, like a mantra. “In your fires we become pure.”

The being on the throne shifts, still hidden by shadows, though there seems to be a metallic sparkling as they move. “Good. Once purity is achieved, the ascent can begin. All will bow before the flame, or be consumed by it. Only humans can hope to achieve this. The lesser races are not fit for anything but fuel for the fire that rises.”

The figure rises from the throne, the fire roaring higher as they do. The cultists bow as the figure steps into the light. Illuminated now, the figure is revealed to be a woman, though in no way a human…

Coal black skin is offset by shining golden hair. Glittering golden horns curl from her head, above the face of a mature, stern woman. She wears little to hide her curvaceous body, a drape of fur barely concealing her breasts and a skirt of golden scales about her waist. With a slight sneer, she turns towards the exit, her golden scaled tail swaying behind her. Before she exits, she speaks once more.

“When the ailing king fades, our flames rise. All will bow before the fires of Hestia the golden. Your purity will be rewarded, my faithful.”

With that, she sweeps from the room, the fire dying to embers as she does.