She walked on coals to feel the warmth, the warmth that had been stolen from her soul. Flint against steel, sparks dying . Burnt fingertips and blistered skin.

Then she found the one to build up her fire, the one who had the power to produce flames through their hands. Igniting the spots their fingertips touched.

But then the fire was gone, stolen heat burning her from the inside out. Stifling heat overtaking her mind and soul.

Too much to bear, she extinguished her flame. Only ash, no more burns.

No more kindling.