The atmosphere grew tense, hot, stymied in the humidity of their argument. What tempers were believed to be naught but ash peeled away to reveal ember ire. It was a contentious flash point, lightning struck straw dry nerves and ignited an already droughted alliance. Elemental fury was emblazoned in their coal-black eyes rendering their hammer blow words an afterthought of intent. Lips fell still, hands moved on their own to sheaths, it was left to metal to drive the point home now.

Thunder echoed through the halls, replaying the exchange a hairs-breadth delayed from violent reality. The singing of steel became screeching, vibrant and red-hot notes careening across weathered basalt. Then without warning the clashes became wails, weeping at each strike, mourning the hands that wielded them so. Until sword met stone and its clattering fall crept like despair through the caverns.

No tears were shed to mingle with the blood, it would only be a waste of water. Nostrils flared to catch the upwelling current of sulfuric fumes and now salient iron. A gentle arrhythmic bubbling now patterned against deep erratic breaths counting the unknown seconds. There was no room in these empty halls for two, not with eruptions so often.

The remains were left to desiccate, the mummified remains a warning and promise writ large for all travelers. It was in fire and sweat this place was carved and by blood and flame it remains.