There has always been a story that illustrates the footprints left in the dirt, sometimes the only detail that tells us we've walked that far. It would be cruel to say the flame had no prior existence, mentalities and personality created from mere thoughts and displeasure. She was carved mostly from emotion alone, living free as a wild burning creation that bloomed into a concentrated diamond of red. But the miniscule being she is now does not mean it was for the better, control never a good source of stability. All she ever needed was a little breathing room.

To pinpoint the beginning would mean to delve into an archive of shelves upon shelves of memories, but hers was simple. It began with a night of dark skies and fire lit tents, a celebration of new birth joining Ancients and humans alike. Their tribe had grown immensely, communicating with others that decided further ground needed to be covered. Within these travels, new beings were met and shared with. Resources no longer a commodity between Ancients and humans, but with those that came across the realms. It was a new being that had caught the fireling's attention, the gossiping teen chattering amongst friends of her brother's conception to a human before soon moltens would be kidnapped by a Demon of another breed. Between the highlights of flame he seemed to emerge, surrounded by friends of her breed and having a conversation of his own. She knew he was not a frequent visitor and curiousity compelled her to ask who he was.

Her friends would answer with shrugs and encouraging nudges, tempting the fireling to end her usual ways of modesty and procure interests. All she ever knew was a bond she despised, a strong relation to blood simply due to past history of interbreeding. The question of a new emotion entirely different from what she knew but it was enough to approach the Demon. At first it was all smiles and casual talk, dawn drawing no closure to the conversation they took to the oceans. They promised each other more time, more of themselves that night. It ended fruitful and the fireling returned with glazed expressions of budding love. Though the Demon traveled much and rarely came to her tribe except for business purposes, time was always made for just them when he did. Their long distance relationship held many trials; other love interests, arguments of insecure accusations, and fear.

It was fear because the Demon and fireling couldn't understand how their emotions compiled into such a great purpose. When they were alone, it was like the fairytale books, everything hazed and became nonexistent so they could be with each other. There was upset within the family because his breed was unheard of, they assumed it was "bad blood". But regardless of the warnings, she continued to see him and even promised herself to marriage. But when the time came to place the symbol upon her finger, she never showed at their designated meeting. He left erasing most of his memories of her and she carried on with everything kept of him.

It was months before she would see him again, already mildly infatuated with another that pursued her viciously. She wasn't expecting his visit, apparently he had joined some sort of Battalion and was visiting the local tribes as per his dutiable position. Though seeing each other held the same emotional height as before, neither continued it further. It was a simple "Hi and Goodbye" that the fireling would later regret when she had heard he married. Her heart sunk and she could no longer give any of herself to another while continuing to love the ghost that remained within her heart.

Disappointed, her family consumed themselves with her brothers accomplishments and paid no further mind to the flame. She had gone against their word, broken relations with other Ancients, and now she was sulking past what they deemed was adequate. The family made sure to keep her under reign, "yes mam and no sir" were the usual choice of conversation until word came of the Demon. How the grape vine reached her was inconceivable, letters of "running away" and "finally being together" came from the Demon. All enticing the flame to her breaking point. Once more she had fallen, blindly with fear being her only reason or source of support. The replies were short, afraid if she said more that he'd come and take her away. Problems had already been stirring in the tribe, talk of a Bewitcher leading the humans against the Ancients. She had to ignore the Demon's beckoning because her brother, Irry, was in the middle of the chaos. She never realized it would go as far as it did...maybe this was why her people rarely trusted others again.

Days of war would ensue, Irry had murdered his family to save them from the Bewitcher and faced dire consequences by the humans. It was believed the Ancients purposely planned this, all along carrying a hate for the fleshlings. Because they had helped to train the humans for possibilities of war, they were rather well at defense and offense. Many of her people died and the days where she consumed herself of selfish thoughts could no longer linger in her current mindset. She had to protect the legacy they were and the Demon came last to all of it. Years would pass, years of hunting the last humans who mingled with them. Bloodshed and hatred tainted her heart, the gaping void consuming everything she use to be and replacing it with a mindless machine driven only of her own desires. She would fill it with nights spent in different beds, warm bodies only kept until dawn's break in which she would flee to be alone...the way she felt it always was.

How could love do so much damage to one's heart' How could hopes and dreams of having what everyone believed surreal to be reality cause the void? All of this she asked over and over again, the flame consumed of it's radiating aura to nothing but a withering diamond of red and orange alike. It's only way of survival to feed from others, take what they would give her and consume until they are nothing. Because always in the end, no one could sate her. A Demon had her heart, the oxygen to the life she dully lived.

"Mmm..." A tousle of caramel and satin, writhing together in twines of tangled affection just barely catching morning's bliss. The thin wooden panels did little to hide sun's light, but her bed warmer had opened them most likely to wake her sooner than usual. The flame tossed in the sheets, pushing back the deep seas to allow her nudity freedom. Hands clenched the mattress and brought her up from her belly, curtains of red and golden locks shielding smoldering ambers as they stared at the vacant bed.

"Oh my..." Poor satin sheets, destroyed by her infamous claws of obyrith nature. Hopefully the man that made her vocals ache didn't suffer the same damage. A roll of her head and finally the curtain was lifted, lips rubbed together seeking moisture from her lavishing tongue. She lifted herself from the bed and wavered toward the bathroom, a splash of icy water bringing her back to reality. "How long can you..." Spoken words to a reflection she was beginning to forget, the resemblance gone replaced with a shadow of currency she no longer knew how to spend.

"Adrian?"

A call to the one that kept her warm, hope hidden somewhere in those monotone cords that were plucked with repeated precision. Emotionless. That's what everyone called her. The bitch that knew only herself. But how she gave, each bed offered countless hours of attention and adoration she only spared in the moans of her weakest state.

"Guess he went to work early again."

How many lovers had she consumed" All of different races and none willing to harbor the wild fires. One was so close, the Swiss had her at the edge of giving all right before he lost everything of his own. She was traded for a Doll and regarded as nothing more than an admired bed warmer. Now she remembered as she splashed herself with water why she is who she is. It happens every time.

"How long can you..."

Another whisper, her voice croaking before she rushed to the bedroom to snatch whatever pieces of clothing could be recovered. A long sleeve cotton blouse and a pair of torn jeans, messily applied without regard to all the buttons. A hand through her hair was all the grooming she would offer after brushed teeth, feet knowing well where they wished to go. Adrian was only a filler, he had his family and children. And she was simply the added liquid to his half empty glass that he kept greedily consuming. The front door was nearly slammed open and she was retreating like a broken hearted lover. Quick, flame. Run quick. You won't feel it as fast. It won't hurt as much if you run and don't look back. But she would eventually come back. Because all she knew was how to warm a bed, be the filler to an empty glass.

So many memories. Once she was wanted, needed. And even though she called for the Demon, he never came. Jared became a mirage in her deserted mind, an image she could only keep for so long before needy hands clenched to another dream. A crack in the glass and it was lengthening with every unfortunate adventure, every man that took from her and gave nothing back. Her mind was lost on the journey back home, the demoness climbing up the side of the mansion to avoid everyone and everything. She snuck through the unlocked window dashing toward the deepest corner of her wardrobe. A box was pulled and held over her bed in a high threat, letters eventually pouring as those hands shook feverishly. Reminders, teasers, curses, a knife to her heart. Damn these letters.

"Damn you, Jared! Damn you!!!!"

She cursed and threw the letters all over her cotton sheets, flames igniting and burning her only memories of a once renowned lover. Tears poured for both the pain she felt giving away such memories to anger and for being left to her own hazards.

"How long can you let me wait! How long can you let me think you don't love me anymore! How long can you hide?!" Her words no longer were relevant to the human language but now echoed foreign growls of her ancient trace. Eventually her bed was swarming with the red fires she was born from, arms encasing her from behind without her knowledge. Lost in the savage golds and oranges, writhing in burly arms to be released...to burn with those memories that wouldn't leave her even if she burned their last physical trace.

"Shh...Saphyera..." Irry. The only one that understood, that knew of her risque behavior which caused her expulsion from ancient roots. He knew why she screamed at meaningless parchment, why she burned expensive linens and antique wood carvings. He knew and it was why he stayed risking too hot temperatures and flames licking at his arms. There on the floor she was rocked through heavy sobs and overflowing tears, numb to his presence and her degrading state. All she knew was the glass breaking, the flames melting everything she once knew to be her only savior. The fire had been put out and she had been wrapped in a blanket, still held close in her brother's arms. Dull eyes that were once faceted hues of molten lava now stared blankly at the floor. Over and over she repeated...

"How long can you..."