Trylstrian's Punishment.

His fingers shattered and gnarled with the sharp, crackling sounds of murder in the joints as they bent completely backwards until his fingernails were touching the backs of his hands. Snang pulsed violently upon one, the pewter serpent coiling around the digit until he was afraid that he would be injured.

His murmurs slipped through the dim light of the cavern. He crouched on one knee, fingers rose parallel with each side of his head, hands upturned and shaking with the concentration that turned the air around him white-hot. Saliva leaked upon the tip of his lips, threatening to pool on the floor in front of him as he felt his throat convulse. And then came the flame.

Trylstrian's hands were an inferno as they slithered slow streamers of flame before him, blinding his mundane eyes with the illumination until he forced his other sight to take control. They saw the figure form in the inferno, a towering man with a wide, serene smile and oustretched arms.

"Hello, my child," he said.
"Master," Trylstrian said as his shoulders quaked, his hands pressed upon the floor now in a low bow.
"So long you have kept from me. If I did not know any better, I would have thought that you had abandoned me."
The words were said with such jeweled, smooth tones, and yet Trylstrian knew the truth of it. He could feel the oppression in the air like the smell of death, felt it seep into his bones and soil every unmarked portion of his body. His crushing, fiery gaze shot heat into Trylstrian's body and it felt as though he could not swallow; even saliva had retreated under this wicked presence.
"I have not abandoned you."
"So I see. So what progress have you made?"
"Master, I have established contact with the family and have crafted a cover that allows me for limited access to them. But-"
"Has there been any sign that living men know of me?"

It was the expected question. His master was careful above all other things, and any knowledge of him could present a political problem if they were to discover the Hidden Isle.
"I have received no such indication, but there is certainly an understanding that the past is not to be discussed in open channels. Things of that era are whispered out of sight in dark p-"
"Gain access to their library. There are no words of mine left in that place, but I cannot speak for anyone else who may have written about my actions there."
Trylstrian paused. This would be the difficult aspect. "If I have found no signs," he said, cringing at the sound of his own voice, "will Nharati have to fall?"

It was perhaps the wrong question to ask, for the fires that contained his master's likeness abruptly exploded into a disproportionate, fickle construct that threatened to consume Trylstrian entirely. He could feel the heat burning the hair of his arms as he put his hands up to shield his face.
"You question my judgement?" It was not said kindly anymore.
"No, my lord! Never! It is just that there is a princess here wh-"
It was definitely the wrong statement to make. The fire sought him and Trylstrian was burned to a crisp without hurting his body. He felt it, but did not burn as a scream wrenched from his lips and echoed throughout the lair. His body writhed and twisted, hands trying to beat back the fire despite how useless an attempt that was.

"Do your duty."

Trylstrian would not ask such a thing again.