On the snowy peaks near the village of Bright Port, a young man stared at a flame that lived before him to warm him through the cold, his face hidden under a blue hood and scarf. For seconds, he simply stared with mere interest before extending his hand toward the fire, breathing as he focused.
The fire came alive as it flowed out of the hearth, swirling about the man's hands and began to encircle him with a burning embrace before the hand pounced and grabbed a piece of the fire, the circles dying as he open it to a single flame that started to form into a sprite, a calm, yet commanding tone given in the man's voice. "Is there any trouble that you have come to me to correct?"
"M'lord, the presence of evil looms over us all as the shadows seek to destroy the world..."
"No, such energies still are chained in the darkness of the Nether and pose no greater threat than mere spirits of doom." The man made to close his hand, but the sprite spoke again, scared for its life if he did close it.