Before the Flame, Darkness reigned, and when it fades, Darkness will again seize the world. Yet when the Lords slew those who dwelt in shadow, when Light blazed through void, all had not been exterminated; even in the brightest of light, a splinter of shadow remains. It was this bleakness, this realm blighted and cursed in all tongues, that Or'do beheld as he crumpled, white flames reeling drunkenly from his body, his flesh crumbling away in long, shivering ribbons. The Darkness fled, avoided its destruction, and in this sanctuary they waited. A thousand thousand thousand worlds for just so many parallel realms where the Darkness lurked in patient stasis, waiting the moment when Flame flickered, and in that moment, they would retake this world forevermore.

Or'do reached forward with trembling fingers, dragging himself toward the distant warmth of a yet unlit bonfire, its coals glinting with promise, winking like mirthful eyes as he pulled himself onward. His body seemed wrought of cold, heavy lead, and with each shuddering breath, he felt it grow heavier still.

Ashen vapor hissed over his parched lips as he crumpled, pale flame engulfing his entire body. Pain faded, and his vision turned black as a world without Fire. In his last moments, Or'do realized that his greed, was his downfall; his lust for an end to the cycle, had only consumed him.