(Scars do not appear to be cause of death –shock ... - Bad Request

The door clanked.
I stepped back as machinery roared to life, the harsh keening of metal on
metal piercing the harsh wind. The wedges clanked against one another, one
by one, until they folded fully like the strips of a fan.
Inside, my end waited.
~~~~~
Flecks of ash danced along Ignus' vision as he waited for his Master to
return. It would be safe here, in this portion of the Modron Maze that Master
had assured him quietly one final time before leaving. Patience was
something he'd learned well, though in truth it came easily to him ever since
he'd been bound.
He still remembered: Countless magelings and hedge wizards stinging at him
like wasps with their small magics until he'd been subdued, and the
punishment that was glory, the execution that was life. Others perhaps
would plead for power from the Gods, or scrape and force what they would.
No... now Ignus was the flame, he was both creation and destruction, fire
and ash.
Ignus breathed, and a swirl of pretty embers blew from his charred teeth. So
lovely. Ignus could be patient.
A clank sounded in the distance.
Ignus' focus snapped away from the raw elemental storm that flowed
through him. The walls of this mechanical maze were shifting.
No no no no! The walls bent in on themselves, with the stink of hot grease,
the clang of iron, the sharp taste of madness. Gears rolled and plates shifted,
drawing closer. Metal screamed as it closed in, folding around Ignus until
he'd be crushed...
Betrayed! Ignus wailed, and all became dark.
He shivered then, curled in on himself. Was this death, the cold damp grave
devoid of warmth? He hoped it wasn't. Only darkness surrounded him, so
deep and thick that even the flames of his body could do nothing to
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