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Description

I wanted to cry, but a Firestarter cannot cry. The flames consume everything, especially tears, and will not allow them fall from my eyes.

It would be easier if I could cry for all that's been lost, for all I know will be lost.

Standing in the field, I can see the house about a mile away from me. Why I'm returning to my prison, I cannot say, but I'm compelled to see what I've left behind, to ask myself if it really is all in my past.

There's only one way to know, and that is to stand there, like I did before, and gaze into the eyes of my once captor.

Everyone wants to capture a Firestarter. Mesmerized by my flames, many have tried to harness that power, but none can touch me. I am a Firestarter. I destroy and consume everything that does.

He had tried to capture my flame, to capture me, but only succeeded in holding me prisoner for a time. I escaped, but now I have to face him. Only when I face him again can I know that I am free, no longer held captive, no longer chained to a past that will never be forgotten, but need not be remembered.

I walk forward, and as I do, I see the sun above me change from bright to overcast, growing darker with each step. I'm scared, but I keep walking. Nothing can stop me from my purpose. I have to see if my nightmare was real or if I only dreamed it.

By the time I reach the door of the house, it no longer looks like a house to me, but a dungeon - dark, damp, foreboding. The sky is black, and I feel the wind blowing against my face, whipping my hair around to cover my eyes.

It's just as well, really, because I don't want to see this... but I have to; I have to see.

I reach a trembling hand out to touch the door and it opens before me. I really shouldn't be scared. I've been here before. I've done this before. This won't be any different than the last time.

Peering into the darkness, the only thing I can see are the glowing green eyes of my once captor, staring back at me, a smile on his face, a grin really.
"I knew you'd return," he said.

"I'm not here for you, but I can save you," I say, as I push past him and walk into the room, seeking the corner where I had lain chained for so long, unable to move, unable to speak, unable to feel anything.

He watched me while I walked around the room, looking at my past, until finally, my eyes rested on his, and he laughed.

I smiled back at him, no longer afraid, and said, "I came to set your free."

He didn't understand, that was obvious, but he was curious, so that meant I had a foothold. I extended my hand, the fire already burning on the tips of my fingers, and I turned to light the long velvet curtains that once blocked out my sun and set them ablaze, the only thing in the room shining other than those amazing green eyes, which were now much wider than before.

"What are you doing?" he growled at me.

But I only smiled and continued to light anything that would burn on fire. I can feel the heat, but I am not afraid - I welcome the fire, welcome the burn, welcome the destruction - or salvation - not sure which it would be, I only know that one or the other had to happen - now.

"I'm walking out that door," I said, pointing toward the heavy metal backed door with a wooden front, "And you can either walk with me, and leave this past behind, or you can stay here and burn in your hell."

I hold my hand out to beckon him and I wait patiently.

His eyes burn into me as bright as the flames lapping at that walls around us, but he refuses to reach out for my hand. I take a step closer and say, "You have to choose now. I'm leaving... are you coming with me?"

He took a step forward, and for a brief moment in time, suspended there with the flames glowing all around us, I thought he might just choose his freedom with me, and together, we would walk to safety, leaving our shared prison behind us.

But it wasn't meant to be.

From somewhere in the darkness, I hear a demon's voice calling to him, just when he might have reached for me, and he turns and runs to find her.

And I, standing there with my hand outstretched, knew that he would never gaze upon my flame again.

Looking down at my hand, I clenched it into a fist, fighting back the knowledge at what I had done, the destruction I would leave in my wake. I wanted to scream, but the flames were growing higher now, and I knew if I hesitated one second longer, I would surely perish in the fire.

For you see, a Firestarter is not immune to her own flame.

I made my way to the entrance of the dungeon, and taking in a shaky, wavering breath, I pushed the door open one last time, peered out at the dark storm brewing and forced myself to walk out into that blackness.

The wind howled, the fire burned, and the unshed tears were deep behind my eyes, unable to be cried, welling up inside of me like hot rivulets of molten emotion. If only I could cry, perhaps I would feel something when I hear his screams echoing behind me.

There was nothing more I could do for him now. There simply were no tears to shed inside of me.

I did not look back at the destruction. I'd seen and set far too many fires in my time to ever need to watch again how deeply the fire could consume. I walked away, head held high, heart broken, but still beating.

As I walked, feeling the heat at my back, the sun slowly began to appear from out of the storm, and I followed it to a place where the storm stopped, and in the clearing, I found another set of eyes, so bright, so blue, laughing, oblivious to the damage I'd just left behind me. I stopped to play with him for a time.

But as time moves on, the truth of a person must be told, and I had to tell my blue eyed companion the truth of my past, that I was the Firestarter, and that surely as I had burned a path of destruction behind me, that flame was soon to catch up with me, consuming all that was good, leaving only the charred remains.

The storm clouds began to brew again, but this time, only in my eyes, as I told him of the fires, the damage, the destruction, the total devastation, and then I waited for him to run away, closing my eyes to hide from the ultimate pain I knew I would feel, but knowing well that there would be no tears for this man either.

This is the way of the Firestarters. We burn beautifully, brilliantly, but one can only watch fire from a distance.

One cannot touch fire without being burned. It simply isn't possible.

Sure, the fire burns us too, we are always left charred, darkened, burnt, but the damage the fire does to us is nothing in comparison to the power of the fire when it burns outside of us.

We are not defeated by the fire, only changed by it. When I finished my story, I let the flames burn brightly so he could see them, believe me, understand I was a Firestarter. Touching me would surely lead to destruction.

With my eyes still closed, the flames building up all around my body, I waited, exposed, vulnerable, knowing that soon the fire would either make him run or consume him.

That's when I felt it.

I was not sure I had actually felt it at first, but there it was again... and again. Confused, I open my eyes, and no longer are my flames burning around me, but instead, I find myself enveloped in a cascade of warm water, not enough to douse my flame, but just enough to keep it from burning so hot that it was dangerous.

Into the water and flame he steps, reaching his arms out, wrapping them around me and pulling me to him, and he kissed me, forcefully, fully on the mouth, his tongue probing mine, his hands seeking flesh, until I was nothing more than a trembling woman, standing in front of him, the powerful flames now extinguished, but a new burning, deep in my soul, a fire like no other I'd ever felt, was threatening to erupt from me. For a moment, I was no longer a Firestarter - I was just a woman, feeling the aching desire to be touched by this man.

It had been so long since anyone had safely touched me.

"You don't understand. I'm a Firestarter. I will consume you, without even meaning to. Please, don't touch me."

His eyes were like pools of shimmering water as he gazed into mine and I could see the flame still flickering in my own eyes, reflected in the watery orbs that gazed at me so longingly.

His lips close to mine, I could feel the heat of my fiery breath mixing with the cool mist of his own. He claimed my mouth with his once again, and I felt the rising flame coming from deep inside. I tried to pull away, but was powerless to move.

"I am a Firestarter," I said, though the words no longer seemed to mean anything.

"And I am a Waterbearer," he mumbled breathlessly, before his mouth once again claimed my flames, and we sank together to the ground, where we made love, his cool liquid mixing with my hot fire, leaving the most beautiful blue flame dancing around us in the night air.

When he had poured himself into me, and my flame only smoldered inside, I looked at him, right into his eyes, and said, "I had been told you were not real, that you did not exist."

"My lovely lady," he replied, "I'm as real as you believe me to be."

Wrapped up in each other, I again wished for tears, realizing that what I had sought all along was this Waterbearer — one who could control my flame without extinguishing it — but alas, I was a Firestarter, and everyone knows a Firestarter cannot cry.
Long ago, I had met a Waterbearer, but he had disappeared, and there were times in my memory I wondered if he was but a dream. My quest in life had been to find this one - one who would not be burned when he touched the fire. One who could embrace it and me, and still stand before me, whole, complete, unscathed.

"Follow me. I want you to see something," he murmured.

I did as he bade me do, without even a consideration of an option. A Firestarter always burns her own path.

She does not follow.

Yet, I follow, willingly, longingly, lovingly.

He leads me to a place familiar to me, but I do not recognize it. The sun shines brightly here. I look all around me and realize in that moment where I stood.

"This was my prison," I say.

"Only of your own making," he responds. "Come, look."

Through the charred, burnt remains, I see the beginning of new life. Green plants beginning to grow where once was only black.

"I destroyed this," I state.

He knelt to pour his water on the ground as I watched the leaves and blossoms of flowers grow right before my eyes from the remains of the dungeon prison I had burned to the ground.

"No, you merely allowed for this to be created," was his response.

He comes to stand next to me, and together we watch the new life grow where there had been nothing but death before.

With his arm around me, holding me close, he reaches up to touch my face and wipes a tear from my cheek that had fallen from my eye.

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