Conjurer's Hubris

Yeva stared wide-eyed as the forest burned around her.

The Conclave Arcana's mercenaries were pushing toward her through the tree line and the forest was burning and it was her fault, the fire elemental had been too much, too fast, she'd lost control of it and now the canopy was an inferno and she needed water, she needed it now.

She drew a circle in the dirt with her boot heel. No components. She knew the risk and she chanted anyway, reaching for the Plane of Water.

An arrow took her in the shoulder. Her concentration broke.

The water elemental came through outside the circle. It came through in the same place as the fire elemental. Inside the fire elemental.

They collided and merged and the sound was wrong and horrible, and there was one creature where there had been two, screaming at itself and tearing at itself and steam rising from the seam that should not have been, and the steam smelled like scorched iron and cooking flesh.

Then it looked at Yeva. Both of them looked at Yeva. She took a step backward, then another.

A moment later, Yeva was screaming too.