"Come on, Cairn, admit it," Polaris said with a self-assured flick of his mane. "You like the torch."

The torch's cold blue flame had been a boon to their continued journey through the Furnace. Their encounter with the brazier in the halls' black marble annex had granted them a portable, glowing source of cool and light; the last of their candied fruit seemed a small price to pay for something that kept them at a reasonable temperature through this magma-lit level of the dungeon.

Cairn looked aggrieved. "I am terrified of that thing."

Polaris glanced sideways at his companion. Cairn had kept a constant physical distance from the torch, preferring to walk on Polaris' other side, or with at least a meter between him and the torch on the same side.

"I just don't know how much of the...brazier god, or whatever, is left in there. Whether it's watching what I'm doing or listening to what I'm saying. Is it just some kind of magic cooling spell, or is it a currently-benevolent deity ready to smite us if we do something wrong?" Cairn rambled.

"I don't think the deity would be quite so discerning in any case," Polaris said. "I'm just glad we're not sweating every minute of every day we're here."

Cairn let out a little hmm, but said no more.