Sphira: Fire Stone

Across the sea of Faedor in a land called Furiaden lived a powerful mage named Hawrthorn. He was of average build with a fiery but dark red eyes, long black hair, and pale white skin from years of being in the dark. He only wore the finest of robes the color black. At the moment he was furious and not one of his minions would dare go near him.
“How did my spell go wrong?!” He yelled and threw a book at the wall.
The spell he was talking about was meant to bring him the one that would find the Fire Stone for him but instead of bringing the one he needed to him it sent them somewhere else. He didn't know where exactly and that just added to his already foul mood. He calmed down some after a moment when an idea came to him.
“Not all is lost. I know that they are somewhere in that disgusting place Sphira. I know their essence, yes this isn't so bad at all. Daevor!”
A large black bird swooped into the room from a high open window and landed on his metal perch.
“Ah Daevor my trusted companion. I need you to find who this essence belongs to.” He held up a bowl that was billowing white smoke underneath the bird's beak. Daevor tasted the white smoke on his tongue and shrieked.
“Now when you do find out who it is and come back to me at once. Do you understand?” The bird shrieked again and took back out the same window in search of who his master wanted.
Hawrthorn grinned,“I will soon have what I want and when I do no one absolutely no one will be able to stand in my way. Not even that dreadful Rozen.” He laughed which was heard all throughout his domain and made every living creature shiver in fear.