Spirits of Flame

Even the intangibles, even the invisibles can follow life cycles just as strange as the flesh-kind. Look to the scorched desert. See the golems of walking lava. Witness them hurl gobbets of flame through the air. They fall as meteors.

But look. These patches of fire have agency. They move. The golems reach sideways, just past your dimensions, and grab a hellish spirit of fire, casting them into the sky. When these animate flames land, they roam about with purpose. There is something they desire.

They desire what you have, sweetling. Sensation. When they find the unfortunate corpses of the cultists of Aten, they possess them. Imagine their hungers and thirsts and infernal joy at the feeling of wind on flesh. Some have only known the howling voids and sightless zones. They walk, fire spirit fused to soul, Pilgrims of Flame. But the star that burns twice as bright burns half as long. The devil rages when he knows his time is short. The bodies blister, simmer, and cook — eventually falling to ash and blood steam. And then those spirits of flame go back into the burning dark, awaiting another eon for a time when they might be plucked and dragged out into the land of the flesh.