Cyro's arms wrapped around me as I turned around once again to face the never tired fire , that, even after so long, was burning as brightly, spreading warmth, just like the man behind me did. My back was pressed against his chest and he was holding me securely, his fingers drawing random patterns on my skin, while I did nothing but recollect memories that would surface in a steady stream.
There were faded faces that would watch me from my memories. With hunger, with a strange worshiping attitude that was always directed right at me and whatever I was considered to be. I did not figure out entirely who I was or what my purpose was here, besides being railed by Cyro. Yet, despite this aching question, I was a bit skeptical about asking Cyro. He might hesitate to tell me the truth in its e
