Once there was a woman with red hair done in messy braids. Sometimes her hair appeared to be an actual fire. The red colour seemed kind of fitting as it would come to define her life.
She was like fire personified, warm and comforting when needed. A guide to help others find their path like the smoke of fire. However, she wasn’t just cozy, she could be just as scorching as fire out to burn those who had hurt her.
She made life better for those close to her. She reminded them of childhood and innocence. Sometimes her red hair made her loved ones think of the changing colour of Autumn leaves. The thoughts would take them back to a time when they were children, playing and laughing as the autumn leaves fell. She was a breath of fresh air in what had once been a dull life. They wished they could protect her forever..
Red for love and red for hatred. Nobody could deny that she loved fully and fiercely. That is what made her all the more terrifying, for they knew how hurt she would be if she had unrequited love. More horrifying than that was imagining what would happen if she lost a loved one.
Everything she ever loved was ripped from her and torn into pieces. She tried her hardest to protect everyone but in the end she just wasn’t strong enough.
When she lost her last loved one, she fell to her knees and screamed. She screamed even as she cried. She screamed till all the corners of the world knew and echoed her immense pain.
When she screamed herself hoarse she slowly rose with determination burning in her eyes. A gentle wind blew her hair and made it seem like a gentle, comforting fire.
It was as the wind picked up speed that she set everything in her path aflame. She became a blazing inferno as she let her anger out. Soon smoke rose above the trees. Perhaps feebly she hoped the smoke would be a signal.
As the fires burned even higher than the trees and only the smell of ashes and smoke remained the determined fire in her eyes died. As the enemy finally fell and the world burned her eyes became dull.
She was so much more than just a woman with red hair done in messy braids. She was fire. But as the world continued to burn, she once more fell to her knees. She was no longer a blazing inferno or a comforting warm fire. She was now a dying fire and the only one left to bare witness to it was a grey fox with silver eyes.
Red was no longer just the colour that defineed her life, it was now also the colour that defined the end of the world.
But as the grey fox tilted its head, the woman and the fire vanished.
A moment later the fox was gone. The world once more looked untouched as if nothing had happened. But a girl stood there, astonished because this girl could have sworn she saw it all happen.
That’s how the stories of fire personified started. Everybody did however wonder what the fox was if the woman was fire personified. Whenever the story is told however a strange silvery grey mist or smoke fills the air…
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