the other side of the fire

Cinders sat before the First Fire, her heart in her throat. She had stolen the ember from one of the recent burnings and brought it home, with no small amount of burns to her tongue and maw. Claiming that she created the fire, however, created a sense of reverence among her followers. She would have to keep the fire going, or risk losing that faith.

Her tail tip twitched. At least it was not winter, and the cold bite that would threaten her little flame was not a risk yet. She would have to tend to it carefully. Beam had already left to fetch tinder, and that left her watching it. Tired, and silently aching from her sores, her golden eyes drifted close despite her best efforts. She nearly fumbled forward into the burning grasses that fed the hungry thing.

At least it was easier than tending to a mewling kit. She adored Beam's children, but she had not a motherly bone in her body. She was a leader, a commander, a Pyre that lit the way.

Cursing as she recoiled from the smoke that stung at her eyes, she settled down into a loaf, keeping her breath shallow to avoid blowing out the small sparks. She watched the crackling lights, whiskers warmed by the tiny, brave little flame.

She did not know how long it would be until Beam returned. But the wait was long enough that she ended up falling into a sleep. That was when the first of the dreams began, and she awoke on the other side of the flickering light in a place of shadow and ash.

The world smoldered around her, as she rose to her paws, blinking blearily at her surroundings. The sharp taste of acrid soot filled her senses. The darkness of this realm was cast aside by the beacon of light before her: the First Fire continued to burn in her dreams, a true Pyre that burned as a tall beacon, as large as a tree. Maybe larger. Yet it was controlled.

Her own form was covered in ash, as she looked around for the signs of her camp, of her clowder, of anything. Only black spires of tree husks and soot-coated earth. This place was special, she felt it in her bones. It was like looking into the world that fires saw-- if such a thing was possible.

A gentle paw nudged her awake, and she jolted upright. "Wood for the fire," Beam rumbled, standing over her and nodding toward the now fed fire rumbling happily in the middle of the nest they had made for it. "I can tend it, kindling-heart."

"We need to talk," Cinders replied, suddenly lucid. She tried not to wince as her tongue stung fresh from the use despite her burn. "The fire will do well on its own for a moment or two."

Beam's whiskers twitched with bemusement, but they offered no protest. They bowed their head, and she rose to her paws and led them off to a quiet corner of their temporary camp to share what she had seen.