The Witcher's Igni

The mist hung low over the lake, silvered by moonlight, as if the night itself held its breath. Geralt stood at the water’s edge, still as carved obsidian, his hand raised in quiet fury. When the Igni sign burst forth, it wasn’t fire alone, but judgment. The drowner shrieked as flames engulfed its wet, glistening skin — thrashing, burning, and scattering embers across the mirrored surface of the lake. The light of the blaze danced with the moon’s reflection, and for a moment, the darkness dared not move.