"How can you stand it in there?" Ifrit shouted to me outside of the ice cavern, "It's so damn cold!" Apparently he couldn't stand the cold for long periods of time. This made sense. He was a creature of fire. And normally nasty and violent.

The gene pool must be all screwed up. The impression I had of this particular ifrit was not the stereo-typical hater of light.

Rather he was slightly unintelligent, but sweet. He has a strong ego and a fiery temperament when he is angered, but truth be told, his temper doesn't affect my calm, unfeeling nature. His temper rarely shows though, oddly enough, and only damages the ice. I would never speak truly of how I feel about him or tease the boy, it is most unhealthy to deliberately insult even the most high-minded of ifrits. Ifrit is the most loyal of friends, he has never left me these past few months, despite my attachment to ice and his hatred of it. And the most relentless of enemies, I've watched him kill some of the monsters born of the Mist.

Ifrit is an intensely magical creature, and almost all of his kind are accomplished spellcasters. I need to ask Ifrit to teach me magic. Ice magic.

Ifrit has become a mighty wizard, relying more on magic than brute force. He mastered all of the various schools of magic, but avoided Healing and Enchantment spells as was unsuited to his violent temperament. As might be expected, spells of elemental fire were tremendously favored by Ifrit, and most of his spells are fire based.

Although he is not himself artistic, he is a connoisseur, who surrounds himself with rare and valuable things of craft and beauty. He brought several paintings and vases with him and has placed them in his caves. Must be why he tolerates the ice cavern. It is a most beautiful place.

I do enjoy his company, when isn't angry or sarcastic.

"Ice is my friend. Ice has always been there when you weren't here. It soothes my soul to see it's sparkling, cold beauty," I whispered softly.

"WHAT?!" Ifrit shouted back in reply. I rolled my eyes.

"Ice is my friend, it comforts me."

"I STILL CAN'T HEAR YOU!"

"Then come in here for a second."

"Noooooooooooo. . ."

Immature brat.

"Fiiiiiinnnne. . ." he groans as he trudges in the cavern and stands uncomfortably on the ice.

"I said ice is my old, old friend. Ice has always been there when you weren't here. It soothes my soul to see it's sparkling, cold beauty. It's shimmer in the moonlight. Ice's awesome power to take away lives and still be stunning."

Ifrit poked me,"Izat why your skin's all bluish?" I glared at him and sent a physic message not too touch me with his furry claws, and he shrunk slowly away from my glare.

"Yes."

"Didn't it hurt?"

"No."

Silence.

Then Ifrit left, and I continued work on my sculpture.