to leap through the flames or not -
T
here is expectation hanging heavy in the air, as you take your place among the other horses lined up at the start of the race. Your heart hammers inside of your chest, nearly in time with the drums that begin to beat out the time remaining to the start of the race. On either side the bonfires dance along to its rhythm, waves of colored light flickering along the backs of the people who have gathered close by. And through it all the song keeps weaving, in lilting tones that rise and fall with the flames. It’s captivating — and as you stare into the flames a thousand colors begin to leap within them. Reds and golds, violets and greens, blues and silvers, all of them twist together like plaits of a many-stranded braid. The air is thick with the smoke and incense curling around you, drawing you in deeper and deeper. As the tempo speeds up, you see a figure parting the smoke like waves.
The horse that stands in front of those who have lined up to start the race is the color of soot, with eyes that burn as brightly as the fires. Strange runes are painted (or are they scarred?) down their sides, shimmering as the light falls upon them. The stranger does not smile, nor speak — they only stare at you with their fiery eyes. There is nothing gentle about the look they give you, or about the way they seem to look through you instead of at you.
With a curt nod of his head, the music abruptly stops. The bonfires shiver in golden tones on either side, and the line of horses readies themselves.
A single cry marks the start of the race.
Every horse leaps forward as one through the smoke, and you with them.
The beginning of the race is a flat stretch, with each struggling to gain the lead. A row of fires lights the way, but perhaps the way they close in around you and block your path is cause for alarm. Or maybe you are one of those vying for first position, and do not notice the way the smoke grows thicker, and darker, and heavier, like something more than wood is burning, going into the first turn.
And yet directly ahead of you a new fire waits, like a hedge of flames waiting to be jumped. The fires reach hungrily for the air, for you, and something — perhaps it is instinct, or fear — tells you it will not be so simple. On either side of the fire is a path leading around, a slender space big enough for one to pass through at a time. Against the brightness of the fires, the darkness of the path on the right makes it impossible to see what lies in wait.
But to the left, there is a spark glowing red and hot.
To continue the race, you must reply to this thread with your character's choice. There is no word limit, and you can be as creative with the prompt as you'd like! The first obstacle features a fiery hedge that your character must decide to jump through or run around. The race splits here, and their decision here will influence the rest of the event for them.
Choices: run through the fire, take the right path, or take the left path.
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