You don’t walk in the astral plane. You glide. Have you ever slid your hand across a perfectly smooth piece of ice? Think of that sensation on your feet, but without the chill. Some people walk, but it’s all appearance. Illusion. Then again, illusion is really the name of the game in this place.

So, anyway, where was I? Oh, right. I set off down the path. You really move in the astral plane. To give you an idea, every place in the universe has a corollary here. The Concorde could go from New York to London in just under three hours. Here, you could be in London before it’s landing gear left the ground. And the tickets are cheaper!

Unfortunately, the place I was going wasn’t anywhere so close. Which was the other reason for the fire. I needed one that would burn for a good two to three hours (travel time there and back, plus discussion time) and keep me warm and alive.

Of course, that was assuming I didn’t run into anything hostile out here.

Unfortunately, the universe was not in a generous mood today.