The Fire of Creation

Something is burning on the mountaintop.

There, in a stone chalice, raised on a plinth of granite, at the very highest point in the world, is a flame. It cycles through dozens of colours, from orange to green to violet to hues you couldn't even give a name through. The Fire of Creation itself.

As you watch, Zora plunges her hand into the chalice. You stifle a gasp as she removes a portion of the flame. It sits in her open hand, not burning her, just dancing between her fingers as she turns it this way and that. The very essence of creation, the most powerful substance in the universe.

She smiles. And you realise something bad. She's smiling at you.

"Foolish mortal," she says. "Do you really think I couldn't see you?"

"Yeah," you admit, as you release your invisibility spell. It's obviously not doing you any good. "Guess I was wrong."

"You come here to challenge me? Zora? She who makes the very laws of physics themselves dance at her command? With the power of only a few meagre... undergarments?"

When she puts it like that, it does sound pretty stupid. You shrug. "Guess so."

"And you thought you could take away my clothes," sneers Zora, the tone of ultimate authority in her voice. "Like you did with that ridiculous little woodland pixie. I'm not just some spirit of flowers, Raider. I'm the goddess of everything there is. Did you think you were the first male to try to shame me?"

"Maybe? I don't know."

"I've faced down gods. Demons. Elder dragons and creatures from realms you couldn't even comprehend. All of them wanted to steal my pride and usurp my rightful place as ruler of creation. All of them failed. I crushed them beneath my bootheel and made them my mewling little slaves. And now I'm going to do the same to you."

She snaps her fingers.

As all your clothes crumble to ash, you're stumped. For the first time in your entire life, you can't think of anything to say.