Fen.
Two years. It had only been two years since the world had seemed to collapse around us—since the fire had consumed everything we thought we knew. And yet, in this moment, as I watched Astra, our daughter, laughing and playing in her small playpen, it felt like a lifetime had passed.
She was everything. Everything I had ever dreamed of, everything I had fought for.
Her tiny hands reached up, her small fingers closing into a fist as if she were trying to grasp the very air. The flames responded, curling around her little form, swirling like tiny embers around a candle. My heart stuttered, my breath catching in my throat as I watched the flames dance. They weren't like the flames that had threatened to destroy everything. These were hers. They obeyed her. They circled her, playful and gentle, like the flames were part of her very being.
