She'd been terrified, waking up surrounded by fire. She'd tried to run, but had nowhere to go. She was alone on a tiny patch of bare stone, and she'd screamed as she ran back and forth until she wore herself out. Though the flames flowed and rippled like water, lapping at the 'shore,' only their heat ever reached her. She'd sat, and cried, and wiped away cheap mascara along with tears and sweat.
She hated the stuff, even if it helped her seem to be more like the people that had once surrounded her. But now she was alone, and she was glad to be rid of it.
When she could think clearly again, she realized the horizon was not so empty. There were shapes in the distance, other islands, maybe, blocky outlines barely visible among flickering waves. She turned, and walked, and looked, and saw one quite close. As if responding to her thoughts, the sea parted. A path was cut to that distant shore, and to follow it would mean passing between towering walls of liquid flame held back by…nothing. Only the mad dream-logic that this place followed would keep her safe.
It felt too real to be a dream. And there was nothing to do but follow the path.
Admittedly, her first thought upon coming here was that she was dead, and this was hell. But there was no devil waiting for her, no pronunciations of judgement or screams of the damned. She'd been right about the demons, though. Faces leered from the walls of flame as she passed, rictus grins frozen in time. Bony limbs reached out for her, and she stumbled.
She tore off the high heels she'd been wearing. Expensive. Fashionable. In season and the cause of many compliments. They were painful to wear and made her look cheap. She threw them away without a second thought, and the walls of flame rippled as they accepted them, like pebbles dropped in a pond.
The ground rose up as she reached a new island. This one was much larger, and not so bare. The sea-path closed behind her with a splash, but that didn't concern her. All her attention was on the building before her. It was massive, all carved sandstone and banded with metal. The design was solemn, speaking of power and grandeur. It was something from a history book, the kind she didn't want to be caught reading by those she called 'friends.' It was almost enough to distract her from the pain.
A drop of the sea had fallen on her jacket, and the fire was spreading. It was tenacious, almost fighting to reach that which would burn. When she finally got it off, the flame surged and leapt at her skirt, a tacky little thing that she was glad to toss away. She watched the flame eat it, bit by bit, until there was nothing left. The last lick of flame pooled around the ashes, flickering in her direction before flowing back to the sea.
Now she had nothing but her skin and her curiosity.
Like the ocean, the doors to the great building parted at her approach. The walls within were sheathed in precious metals, etched with scenes that spoke of history and fairytale. She walked among wealth beyond imagining. Coins marked with strange words and alien faces, grand sculptures cut from single massive gems, statues and artwork of inhuman creatures and impossible beasts. She crawled over piles of treasure that dwarfed her in size, and stepped with care past a thousand tiny statues, rows of people kneeling in supplication, each rendered in impossible detail.
Her journey ended in a room filled with the only thing of real value. Tables were filled to bursting with food and drink, and she gorged on the feast laid out for her. Naked, exhausted, fouled with sweat and trapped in a nightmare, she felt stronger than she had in years.
Sated, she turned her thoughts to the origin of this place. How odd it was that the provisions were fresh, as if they'd been set out moments before. As if they'd been waiting for someone. But if that was right, it couldn't possibly be for her benefit. She was nobody. That was how she felt when she stepped outside and looked out over the horizon.
That was how she felt when something loomed up and smashed her through the air.
It was how she felt when her flesh scraped along the stone and her arm fell into the sea of flame.
But it was not how she felt when she rose.
She had so many regrets. And then she'd been dragged from her life, brought into a nightmare, chased by beasts of bone and gold, felt her body crack and boil in the flames. She would die, yes, but as the creature stalked towards her, dripping flames from blackened bone, she raised her fist. She could at least die better than she had lived.
The howl split the air. Bone cracked and beast cowered. For a single moment, the sea was still and quiet. Fingers returned to wholeness and feeling, and flames caressed her thighs. From horizon to horizon, a thousand empty eye sockets were lifted from animal thoughts, turning towards a lonely island and a nameless tomb.
On another world, fools talked and fretted and did useless things. The rich wailed for their losses, the wise debated, but the flames would not be quenched. A carpet of red spread over hill and mansion, golf course and movie studio and strip mall, and it would stop only when it cared to. The flames had at last found the object of their desire after so very long. Once again they would dance and burn under alien stars.
And when the sea parted to reveal the road back to her birthplace, it delighted as she went forth in glory. She wore the finery of ancient queens, flanked by the finest of warriors and was carried only by the fiercest of steeds. A new queen had risen, and there was nothing in her but strength and beauty.
All else had been given to the flames.