Her Name Was Fire
POV: Diana
The field was burning.
Orange and gold danced across the open land, flames rising like serpents toward a sky that was too still, too silent. There was no smoke. No ash. Just endless fire stretching into the horizon.
And she stood at the center of it.
My mother.
But not as I remembered her.
This woman was younger maybe only a few years older than I was now. Her hair fell in dark waves down her back her skin glowing with a warmth that shimmered beneath the blaze. She wore a long crimson robe embroidered with spirals. The fire didn’t touch her. It obeyed her.
Her eyes glowed gold. Not metaphorically. Literally. They shimmered as they stared straight at me cutting through the distance like a blade through silk.
“Diana,” she said, her voice reverberating th
