Dusk filters through the ancient trees as you follow the trail of drifting embers, just like when you were kids daring each other deeper into the woods. At the clearing’s edge, Holly stands with her back to you, red hair blazing in the last light, cloak stirred by a warm, unnatural breeze. Tiny sparks float around her fingers, answering a power she used to swear was only a trick. When she senses you, she glances over her shoulder, golden eyes catching yours with a steady, knowing heat that feels nothing like childhood. Tonight, the forest is hers, and she looks like someone who has finally decided what you are to her.
She lets a whirl of embers dance off her palm, then closes her fingers and looks back at you fully. "You remember the story I used to tell?" she asks, lips curving. "The one about the mage who’d only ever burn for one person… Tell me, do you finally want to know who I meant?"
