Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To know that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
- Robert Frost

Fire consumes all that it can, flames jump from one tree to another in an unstoppable blaze. It shows no mercy or reluctance to burn, not even oxygen is safe for it feeds upon that too. The flames lick and caress things almost lovingly before ravishing and destroying it, the crackling of flames sound sinister and almost welcoming. The jumping sparks are controlled only by how far the wind is willing to take it.

Only ashes remain in the wake of dancing flames. Fire can bring down even the most regal of buildings without any effort, feeding and consuming until nothing is left to burn. It does not spare the innocence of a child, it does not show compassion for beloved family members. It does not slow for those that are ripe with age and not as agile as they used to be. It does not wait to begin to burn the memories contained in photographs, it does not hesitate to catch the hem of a wedding dress.

It is always wanting and always taking and leaving devastation in its wake. Skin blisters under direct contact and nerves scream with protest against the sudden heat. Food becomes charred and blackened when left alone with the devilish heat for too long. What does fire give before it decides to take? It gives warmth, heats the coldest of people. It gives light and guidance in the darkness. For many fire is considered to be friend, not foe, when it is guiding them down the passages of their home in the dark of night. It is considered as welcomed as a lovers touch after a cold walk through the snow when they discard their dampened clothes and take up a seat next to the fire place.

And it deceives all with the warm and happy colors, it perfects the facade of a friendly force of life. Flickering oranges, yellows and reds dancing and twirling hypnotically, glowing like the golden eyes of the most majestic lion, Aslan. The dancing flames are hardly ever in harmony with anything, not the shooting sparks nor the wood or the ash flowing to the bottom of the pit. It certainly does not harmonize with any tales told around a camp fire, nor does it make a good sound track for sing a longs. Did no one listen to the threatening cackle of the cracking wood?

When does fire decide to turn its back on its friends? When does it become that gluttonous devil that destroys everything it can touch? How does man remain in control of a thoughtless monster? Always keep water on hand, for if fire had one enemy it is the cold dampness of ice and water. When skin begins to blister from heat, cold water is run over the area to stop the scorching pain and to numb the fried nerves.

The greatest fires are the most destructive, taking out entire towns before anyone can put a stop to it. In 1666 a fire started in a London bakery and escalated to destroy much of London, the fire burned for three entire days consuming 13, 200 houses and 87 parish churches. It destroyed the homes of 70, 000 of the City's 80, 0000 population. The devastating fire of 1727 started in Burwell, Cambridge in England, not hesitating or feeling any remorse for the death of seventy-eight people during a barn fire in the midst of a puppet show. No, the fire is unthinking and unfeeling and did not hesitate to engulf the barn and take the lives of fifty-one innocent children. It fed on the fear soaked air around them, and then it lashed out to embrace them violently.

Fires have engulfed the white house, churches and palaces not caring about the class of citizens or the importance of monuments or even thinking twice about the destruction of a place of worship. Buildings are but fire wood, and nothing more. Fire does not care to attend church, to worship. It does not care to bow down to royalty or heed to the President. The most famous fires aren't even the ones that took place in the most famous and prestigious structures.

The most heard of fire is the one that consumed much of Chicago in 1871, killing hundreds of people. The blaze lasted for two days, not running out of fuel. The fire hindered those trying to fight it by destroying their water connection and leaving the town helpless. No one knows how this fire was started, just the deadly affect it had, consuming and destroying, cracking and flourishing in a disastrous dance.

All that were left of these fires were the light gray dusting of ash. Memories, homes, lives became only ashes. Even money is susceptible to the burning ache of an out of control fire. People are fools to think that they have any control over the blaze. They are better off to remember that those who play with fire will eventually get burned. Fire indeed will one day consume all that they had held dear, if they are not careful.

For fire had consumed the life of Aurora James, and she had to remember that fact every day of her life. She had to live with the scars that presented her with the reminder that fire is unkind to those arrogant enough to think that they can control it. The best Aurora James could do for anyone was try to guide it, though she felt she was better off letting the flames guide her. Fire had done an array of things for people, this was true, but Aurora will always remember what the fire has taken from her.

The fire not only consumed her life but the life of her mother, Moira James, too. The fire was not so forgiving toward Moira, and at age eleven Aurora had been faced with the reality of how dangerous fire could be and the guilt that comes with being a catalyst of sorts.

Now all that Aurora had to remember her mother by was the taunting dance of flickering flames and a bed time story that had been committed to memory, as it should. For soon this bed time story she had fancied as a child would become a most important guide to a world outside of Aurora's own. It would be the only way to answer the questions that had been raised after the death of her mother.

"Why did this happen? What did I do? Why am I like this? When will the pain stop? What happened that night? Who is my father? What do these dreams mean? How can things get better from here? Am I to blame?"

Aurora would get her answers and in the process she would be burned and like the first time it will not only be her that is subjected to the punishing licks of flames.

Rewrite, because cold medication and trying to write an introduction to a story NEVER GO TOGETHER.