Kaelira, Lady of Crimson Flames | Female | She, her | Straight | A demon-goddess | Powers (see notes and credits) | Born immortal | Backstory (see notes and credits) | none | Varkhath, Lord of the Infernal Veins, | fire and heat
powers: Mastery over all forms of fire and heat Can incinerate or purify with a touch Grants followers the ability to resist fire or ignite their weapons Can transform into a phoenix or a living inferno Manipulates emotions, especially passion and wrath Backstory: Kaelira, Lady of Crimson Flames, was born in the hollows beneath a mountain of obsidian glass where the world\'s first embers were smoldering. Even as a thing of ash and intent she was tall and regal, a silhouette of grace wreathed in flickering crimson and gold flames that never singed her hairless skin. She claimed mastery over all forms of fire and heat—sunfire that bleaches bone, hearth-flame that warms weary soldiers, the slow, sanctifying coals of ritual purification, and the wild, devouring conflagration of war. With a single touch she can incinerate the corrupt or purify the stained: a caress across a wound leaves nothing but steam and healing; a press to a traitor\'s chest turns treachery to ash. Her covenant with those who kneel to her is simple and terrible — she grants the ability to resist flame\'s bite or to ignite a blade with her signature crimson blaze — and her followers often carry weapons that flare to life in her presence, hungry and true. She can become a phoenix, remaking herself from embers into a winged comet of rebirth, or dissolve into a living inferno that consumes terrain and memory alike; such transformations are as much a sermon as a weapon, and they are the source of her renown and dread. Beyond spectacle, Kaelira is a master of the subtler arts: she manipulates emotions, stoking passion or wrath with a whisper, a glance, or the heat that creeps up a council chamber\'s tapestries. Her courts are arenas of desire and fury where loyalties fuse and fracture in equal measure; she tends those flames like a gardener pruning for flame-bright blooms. At her side stands Varkhath, her lover and equal in ambition — a shadow of iron patience who tempers her impulsive conflagrations and shares in the burden of rule. Their bond is both throne and tinder: it steadies her in moments of burning clarity and inflames her when he is threatened. Legends say she forgives from habit but never forgets, that cities sing her name in festivals of fire and her enemies learn to fear both the scorch of her mercy and the finality of her wrath, and in every glowing ember she leaves behind there is the promise of rebirth and ruin.
