What is a Fire, and Why Does It Burn?

An uncanny welding of blue and orange, an unearthly sprite of scarlet dancing in a field of sapphire; Ariel's eyes as she watched the fire. She stood in the shadows while the seaside castle burned furiously in enveloping blankets of flame that breathed swaths of toxic black smoke into the blue-velvet, starlit sky. Moving shadows and prancing light flounced upon the Princess's face and slim body, making her dazzling hair appear redder than ever and rendering her appearance surreal—witchlike.

It was an accident. Ariel was left alone while her Prince was off socializing and keeping up appearances. She had watched the cooks fire up their stoves and the laundry servants heat their cauldrons over bonfires. She's watched them for two weeks now. Just observing was not enough. Ariel needed more. She started her own fire, her white and soft hands working diligently with the obstinate flint and tinder.

Once it was started, the fire was extremely difficult to stop. It was stubborn, obdurate, and intractable. Like every obsession, it just kept forging ahead, heedless of attempts to stifle it, regardless of the lives and edifices it consumed.

Fire. Ariel understood it fully now. It was hunger; it was obsession; it was a fanatically passionate longing for air, for life, for food. It burned because it had to. It burned because of its inherit craving to consume everything: a mindless force eating up the acres and miles. Some called it terrible, but to Ariel it was fascinating. She had always loved fire, even before she could define or explain it. She liked to see it devour all things in its path—she liked the heat and excitement and crackling moan of the dying fuel that fed it. Perhaps all along, Ariel had been a living Fire, a beacon in a world where all fire was a crime. If she stayed in her world, the oppressing waters would have stifled her inner flame. She swam near the surface even as a little girl, just dreaming wistfully of a day in the hot sun.

Ah, the sun—an orb of fire hanging in the cosmos, giving light to the world, proof that there could be controlled fire—though she didn't know what force controlled it. Yet in its apparent limitation, the sun gave light and life to the human world as Lord of the Galaxy. Oh, just to catch a few of its rays, the loveliest of fires! Ariel's heart wanted to leap with ecstasy.

But her gaze strayed again to the fire. Her fire, all of her making. There was no such horrendous or fascinating force in the peaceful kingdom of her father, King Triton. Perhaps that was why she left: home was too safe. Ariel had everything, but she had nothing. She had protection, but no adventure; and no hope of quenching the thirst and obsession in her soul. So intoxicated was she now that she could only stand and stare at the scene of destruction before her eyes. It would burn the whole castle.

A dozen figures white against the scarlet fire appeared in Ariel's line of vision. Looking ghostly in their loose white sailor's shirts, the men were heaving bucket-loads of water and pouring it out in an attempt to subdue the combustion. Ariel shook her head at their folly, until she noticed a familiar shape among the senseless humans.

Eric.

Ariel's prince must not be allowed to burn, nor perish in the toxic curtains of putrid smoke. For Eric, Ariel would sacrifice her life, her pride, and all her possessions. No, not just for him—Eric embodied and symbolized the entire human world, the world that sparked the Fire or Love in this princess' lonely heart. No obsession stood before that; no fire but the all-encompassing, burning passion of ardor.

Ariel tuned to the sea, the salt on her lips causing a wealth of childhood memories to flash before her eyes. The dark, black waves crusted with foamy white caps called out to her in an incessant, compelling rhythm. She whispered into the enchanted night, and from miles away, the king of the Ocean answered her plea.

As Ariel moved, so the waters moved. She directed her energy at the castle, and the tide moved with her beautiful white arms. In minutes the beach was stormed by massive tidal waves. A loud hissing voice like a thousand sea-snakes issued forth as the dark waters quenched the roaring flames. Debris, livestock, and men were swallowed up, but the castle was extinguished.

And in the end, the only two figured on the quiet beach were Ariel and Eric, the former holding the latter against her body as the gentle surf washed them up to the torsos.

"Eric, I'm sorry."

Faintly, the Prince reached up and touched Ariel's face. Forgiveness.

Ariel smiled, and the Fire that glowed in her red hair and passionate eyes could not be extinguished by any force.