Soaring Rivers Secret Plane.
At the far edge of the horizon, where the grasslands touched the blue skies, a crimson-haired figure stood before a mountain scarred with deep burn marks.
Anna stood at the base of the mountain, a wide circle of scorched land marking the ground beneath her feet. Her crimson hair was tied back roughly, though a few strands clung to her sweat-covered face.
She raised her hands, fingers spread. In the next heartbeat, they blurred as she weaved the physical component for her spell. A stream of flame burst forth, striking the cliffside with a loud crack. The stone blackened, glowing faintly at the edges as cracks spread across its surface.
