I’m engulfed in an inferno of my own creation. The orange sparks circle me, and my fiery hair flows freely; some strands lash at my face, while others dance with the ever-spreading fire. I can hear the cackling of the flames — a melody that has never failed to bring me solace. While my flames are sometimes fatal to the picturesque valley surrounding me, they compose me. I’m Ignis, the fire entity. My long, red hair fades out into a light orange toward the end; my light orange skin color vibrates with heat and cannot tolerate the cold; flames flow through me, injecting me with life. 

The fierceness in my eyes masks what I yearn for deep inside: a friend. Children who reside in the neighboring village and spend their time exploring the terrain fear me. Stories portray me as a demon, as a monster who sucks out people’s souls. People think I use my flames for harm, for evil. No one understands that I’m as friendly — and as pure — as Aqua, the water entity who the One above created to save the village from a devastating drought a year ago. 

A girl walks toward me; she’s small, about half my size if I were to approximate. Timid, her face seems pale; her steps slow down and she becomes hesitant, as if she’s considering whether she should turn around. 

She’s quite beautiful. I immediately dissolve my flames, and my lips curve into a small smile. The girls’ eyes widened at the action. Before I can do anything, she turns around and sprints, her blue dress flowing outward as her dark brown hair is blown by the wind. I sigh. This wasn’t the first time that I’ve seen the girl; she often runs across this valley, stealing a glance at me before fleeing in the other direction. The villagers will always be afraid of me. Fear prevents them from seeing me differently; fear leads to their ignorance — to their hatred — of me.

I glance up at the clear, blue sky, which is now tinted with orange as the sun sets over the horizon. As I turn my head to the left, I notice Aqua standing on the other side of the valley. We entered this world at the same time; while she found the love of the ancient village located along the valley, I found their hatred. Water isn’t to be feared; water is what helps the crops grow and is synonymous with the satisfaction that one feels after quenching their thirst. We’re immortal, Aqua and I. The difference is that her life is filled with purpose, while I spend the days roaming around and trekking up the mountain, wondering what my purpose is — and if I’ll ever find it. 

***

“Ahhh!” Lia squeals as she skids down the water slide. Her long, dark brown hair is dripping with water, causing it to curl up.

“Aqua, that was amazing!” The young girl exclaims in a bubbling, childlike voice, clapping her hands and jumping up and down; her pale blue dress swirls around, and droplets of water fall from the ends. I look up at the almost dark blue sky above. Evening is approaching rapidly, and to be quite honest, I feel like collapsing. 

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” I say in what’s more of a breath as I put on the fake smile I wear when I don’t feel like displaying my exhaustion.

“I’ll go back home now, it’s getting late!” Lia cheered. She shivered as a breeze swept up some stray, orange leaves in front of her. 

“Alright, bye,” I waved my hand, turning around to face the array of village cabins. All that the children wanted to do today was, well, be kids. They wanted me to sprout out lavish water slides and objects for them to play with. 

But that’s my purpose, isn’t it? Isn’t that what the One above made me for? I pondered for a moment. Yes, my job is to keep the villagers — especially the children — happy; my job is to help them, as I did during the drought that occurred a year ago. But at what cost? The other day I had trouble sparking a simple rain shower; I was both mentally and physically drained that when I channeled my inner strength, my inner river… nothing happened. My mind felt foggy, and a surge of dizziness overcame me. 

My slippers rubbed against the gravel path as I made my way to the village’s central well which was currently empty. My last task for the day. After a few moments, I felt my tense, stiff body relax, and streams of water flowed out from my palms. The sound of a river flowing never failed to bring me peace. I inhaled a deep breath; the air carried an evergreen tree scent. After a couple of minutes, the well was filled to the top, and I could see my reflection in the clear water. Admiring the hills surrounding the village, I leaned back against the well, and fiddled with some loose strands of my light blue hair. However, a distinct, orange figure caught my eye. Ignis. I would always see her spending time in the valley. In fact, Lia would run up to her, and then immediately come back, telling me that she’s afraid — even though I tried to convince her (and the rest of the village) that Ignis wasn’t dangerous at all. It’s amazing what fear could do. The villagers would usually gossip about the fiery entity, labeling her a demon. 

But she’s not. Water flows through me faster when I fathom such a thought. We were both made by the One above, each to fulfill our own duty. I still wonder whether I’ve fulfilled mine. Sometimes I envy Ignis; she may not have found her purpose yet, but she has peace. I’m surrounded by so many people, but I’m still lonely. Is my purpose to sing the tune of the villagers? With a heavy heart, I stole one last glimpse of Ignis — who was doing some pretty neat tricks with her flames — and turned around, walking away to the cabin that the chief had set up for me.

***

Three Months Later 

I sat on the mountain, snowflakes settling on my feet as I surrounded myself in a ring of flames to keep myself warm. The snow that had settled on my skin melted into water; small amounts of water weren’t fatal to me, but if I had jumped into a river or into a waterfall, that would have been disastrous. 

I should go. I realized. I only climbed up the mountain because I wanted a change of pace. Perhaps aimlessly walking would help me find my purpose, my direction. Hence, I slowly trekked down to the base; I passed snowy slopes which shifted their structures when gusts of wind taunted them. As I made my way down, I channeled my warmth to keep myself afloat. My red hair wouldn’t stay put, and kept on flowing to the wind’s tune while catching bits of snow in the process. Finally, I reached the base, and was standing on what’s usually the same, green picturesque hill — the same one I stood on everyday to hone my skills. 

It never snowed here. I took note of how brutal this winter was so far. It was alright, though; I usually ignited a campfire in a nearby cave and slept there.  

All of a sudden, from a distance, something — or someone — dashed by. The figure that I observed was actually two; I was able to recognize Aqua and the brunette girl that approached me every day. There seemed to be a hint of fear in the little girl’s eyes, but mostly, there was desperation. Aqua — my supposed opposite — also carried the same hopelessness in her eyes. We made eye contact, and Aqua… smiled. I’ve envied her life for so long, and I certainly didn’t imagine that she would be happy to see me, or that I would be happy to see her. 

Then, the girl — who was dressed in a long blue coat — walked up to me. “Um, hi.” She murmured, glancing down at the ground as she twiddled her fingers.

“Hi,” I smiled in a futile attempt to alleviate the girl’s nervousness. “I see you walk by every day. What’s your name?” 

“I’m Lia,” The girl sounded more confident, and she stood up straighter. “What’s your name?” 

“I’m Ignis.” I replied, igniting a tiny flame on my finger. The girl recoiled slightly, and her eyes widened. I decided to add, “Don’t worry the flame’s not dangerous — I promise.” 

Aqua walked over. “Hi, Ignis.” She said, her lips curving into a grin. 

“Hi Aqua,” My face radiated with warmth and brightness. “It’s been a while.” 

“Yes, it has been.” Aqua admitted, rubbing her hands together as she glanced down at the snow. Though Aqua paid me a visit once in a while, not even she could convince the villagers that I wasn’t to be feared. Once a prejudice is there for so long, it becomes nearly impossible to get rid of it. Over time, we drifted apart; Aqua found her purpose and I… still haven’t. 

After a few moments, Lia broke the silence. She glanced down, and as if she were pondering what to say, she gently tapped her boot in the snow before exhaling a cold breath and proceeding. “Umm… so we came here because the village is facing a huge problem.” Surprised, I raised my eyebrows in disbelief. Had the villagers’ ignorance vanished overnight? “The winter is so cold, and there’s no warmth. It’s impossible to heat food or boil water, but, um, I know that you could help, Ignis.” 

Aqua continued. “There’s only one problem — the villagers don’t trust you. Lia actually brought this idea up, and just like her, I believe that you’re the village’s only hope — they just don’t know it yet.” There was a hidden plea and a sense of sincerity in Aqua’s eyes — a look that made me want to help, regardless of what the villagers thought of me. 

“I’ll come.” I blurted out unconsciously. My heart raced slightly — even I was shocked with myself. Was this true generosity, or was it desperation? 

“Thank you,” Aqua responded. “We’ll show you what has to be done.” Silent, I followed; the flame on my finger dimmed, and I hoped that all would go smoothly. As we approached the array of houses toward the base of the hill, my body became increasingly shaky. How will they react? I pondered, lowering my head. 

After a few minutes, we approached the chief of the village — a man wearing a long robe and a triangular hat. He looked exhausted; a frown was on his face, and there were dark bags under his eyes. His eyes were filled with scrutiny, and he squinted when he looked up at me. 

“Good evening, Sir,” Aqua started the conversation as a cool, brisk gust of wind threatened to steal the chief’s hat. 

“Good evening,” the chief answered back, his voice stern. I kept note of how his peripheral vision was focused on me, and on the flame on my finger. Humans usually had a bad perception of fire; there were many stories of how fire was associated with evil and with misfortune. Meanwhile, Lia stood behind me, so that the chief could not see her. At least the child doesn’t harbor any hate. 

Aqua cleared her throat. “I brought Ignis, the fire entity.” She blurted out, her eyes scanning the chief’s face for a reaction. 

“Is that so?” The chief turned toward me again, his face bitter. 

“Yes,” Aqua affirmed. “I discussed this before, and you weren’t willing to listen to me then. But Ignis can help us — and everyone here certainly needs it.” The chief remained silent, and his frown grew deeper. 

Aqua spoke again. “Sir, I know the fear that everyone harnesses here. But please understand, Ignis and I were created together, but separately. She possesses the power of flames, of fire, of wrath, but it is not dangerous at all. I promise.” I watched as a tear slipped out of Aqua’s eye. She deeply cared about the villagers; it was her purpose — her duty — to help them. 

And perhaps, I considered. She’s helping me find my purpose. 

***

I thought about Lia as I made my final plea to the chief. “Please Sir,” I clasped my hands together. “Think about everyone here — they need to eat, they need warmth for their homes… is it really fair to let fear get in the way of that?” 

“Fine, Aqua,” The chief’s eyes gazed up at Ignis again, as if he were giving her some silent warning. “But if she does anything…” 

I didn’t let the chief finish that sentence. “Don’t worry, Sir, nothing will happen.” With that, I grabbed Ignis with one hand and Lia with the other and we walked along the old, well-worn gravel path. The chief’s eyes widened; he seemed surprised at the fact that Lia had witnessed the entire conversation. 

“So… what are we going to do?” Ignis asked, pushing strands of her dark red hair away. 

“I guess we’ll start by boiling water, and then we’ll create a makeshift stove in everyone’s home.” I responded. 

Then turning to Lia, who had wrapped both her arms around herself in an effort to ward off the extremely cold temperatures, I asked, “Lia, don’t your parents want you home?” 

“No,” Lia shook her head. “I told them that I’ll be with you, and they were fine with that.” 

“Alright,” I acknowledged. “Let’s get started.”

“Okay,” Ignis agreed, lighting a flame on her finger. I guess it’s how she keeps warm during this brutal winter. The villagers may not initially appreciate seeing a flame on Ignis’ finger, but she had no other choice.

Lia stood behind me as I knocked on the door of the cabin across from mine — Madam Gale. The door clicked, and the old lady stepped out, wearing at least three scarfs and a long, pale pink, button-down sweater. She smiled at Lia and me; however, when her eyes landed on Ignis and on the flame carelessly dancing on her finger Madam’s face drastically paled. 

“Don’t worry,” I tried to reassure the woman. “This is Ignis, the fire entity. She’s here to boil your water and set up a campfire to keep you warm.” 

Madam Gale’s face was stoic, and her light blue eyes were fixated on Ignis. “The water entity came to save us. The fire entity has come to destroy us.” She muttered. She began to close her door, and I grabbed it, desperately trying to pry it open. 

“Please! Please, give it a chance!” I begged. “The chief is allowing it.” 

“Fine.” Madam Gale’s fingers hesitated on the doorknob, and she reluctantly ushered everyone inside. “Aqua, it’s too cold for me to find the chief and ask him about this, but if I find that you didn’t get the chief’s approval, then I’ll be more than extremely disappointed. I’ll be enraged!” 

“Okay,” I sighed deeply. “If you give me a pot, we can boil water for you.” 

***

Madam Gale, an elderly spinster who enjoyed knitting, as obviously indicated by the mountain of yarn on one couch, graciously placed the pot on a table in her small, yet efficient kitchen. 

“Thank you,” Aqua smiled. She seemed to be doing most of the talking, which was alright, since if I opened my mouth, I would say something that would justify the village’s prejudices. Boiling water was easy; I had to sprout the smallest of flames after Aqua poured the water. But I was afraid of how everyone perceived me. There were legends of the fire demon coming to consume all, and I’m sure everyone around here believed them wholeheartedly. Did their fear of me really go that deep? 

“Let’s begin,” Aqua said, filling the pot with room temperature water. I offered Madam Gale an anxious smile, and then on the plate below the pot, I ignited a tiny flame. The water began to bubble, and it would be a couple of minutes until it had finished. 

Lia watched in awe, and took hold of my hand. 

“Thank you,” Madam grinned, yet she appeared shocked at the same time. “How is it that..?” 

“I’m not dangerous?” I finished the sentence, gaining confidence to speak for the very first time. Madam Gale’s cheeks reddened as she stared down at me in embarrassment. 

“It’s okay,” I glanced down as an element of calm spread across my face. “I’m glad that I was able to help.” Madam still seemed a bit reluctant to interact with me further, but I guess that’s fair enough; fear and prejudice don’t dissipate overnight. Mostly silent, I safely set up a mini campfire in the living room; Madam Gale didn’t have a fireplace.

The elderly woman, who still could not look me directly in the eye, said a gentle thank you, and bid us farewell. For the rest of the day, we visited half of the cabins, boiling water and setting up campfires. It was a quiet, tedious process. Many of the villagers — quite like Madam Gale —  still felt too nervous to talk to me. Before Lia left to join her family once again, she, with her jokes and songs, kept everyone entertained, which made the process somewhat enjoyable and far less nerve wracking. 

“The villagers really enjoyed the bonfire that you set up,” Aqua remarked as we walked along the snowy terrain. “That must have been a lot of work for you.” 

“Yes, it really was tiring, but I know that it was worth it. Actually, it warmed my soul.” For the first time, I felt as if I had a purpose.

“Even though barely anyone was talking to you?” Aqua raised her eyebrows. 

“Yes,” I happily admitted. “Something magical happens when I talk to people; something wonderful churns inside of me when I help someone.” 

Although Aqua smiled, the expression on her face didn’t seem to reach her eyes; instead, a sense of gloom and sadness lurked there. “Perhaps I’m not meant to help others the way you are.” 

***

Ignis looked confused at the statement I just made. It seemed as if she had difficulty processing it. I enjoyed helping the villagers, but didn’t experience the same joy that Ignis felt; it was a pleasurable duty, but not my purpose. My heart danced when I was able to convince the chief and the villagers to allow Ignis to help, though; I had never argued with the chief, and have always done as he had asked me to. 

But today, I had to speak for what was right. My heart told me that Ignis was meant to be here. The villagers had to accept her. And I had started to gain ground, ensuring that would happen. 

***

Afterwards 

“Woah, that’s amazing!” Lia gasped, in absolute awe of the glorious show occurring in the sky. Another girl her age stood by, and was equally flabbergasted. 

I unleashed a fire ring in the sky, and Aqua did the same; our elements collided, and dark, black lumps of obsidian fell and landed on the grassy plains. 

“I’m glad that you enjoyed it!” I told Lia, taking a seat on the cool grass. The sun was shining down, and the brutal months of winter had ended. As I continued to boil water and make campfires, the villagers — and the chief himself — had warmed up to me. Madam Gale started to talk to me, speaking of her children who lived on the other side of the village, and how knitting kept her at peace with herself and with life. And, each new relationship made me feel complete; it made me feel purposeful. That was something that I thanked the One above for each and every day. 

Aqua, on the other hand, continued to help out as well; however, she didn’t have to spend so much time entertaining the children since everyone seemed to enjoy my flame shows far better, I would say. Instead, she formed a history class at the village school, where, in her class, only one rule existed: never let fear consume you. 

And, as I twirled a small flame on my finger — while Lia, a friend and companion, watched with delight in her eyes — I remembered that fear and ignorance are far more damaging than any inferno I could ever ignite.