Standing before the darkest forest she has ever seen, Israfel contemplates her courage and devotion.

But she loves him more than anything.

The days spent after their reunions are hazy, inconsequential; he swims in her head like a flower in a gasoline puddle, but the match has been lit and the whole world explodes with fire. She sees him in every beat of her heart, every passing flame - he is her world, and she will never let him down.

A sunflower is tucked behind her ear, among so many other fire flowers, braided through a steadily growing mane. To her delight, the tips of her hair are gilded and sparkle as well as any precious metal in the sun - yet another proof of her divine heritage. The passing months have been kind to the child, but she is as gangly and long-legged as any rapidly growing youth. How lucky I am to have such a magnificent father, she thinks, remembering her face, sighing happily while eyeing the impossibly tall trees before her, their branches snapping and crackling together ominously. The sun glows overhead, radiating summerlike warmth onto her pale coat, but she shudders, any ounce of joy dripping off her face like kerosene off a damned man's fingers. "Give me strength," she whispers, tentatively stepping a cloven hoof into the forest's threshold, and another, and another, until her radiant coat is drenched with gloom. This forest is unlike the one of her home, which glows green with light, insects droning in pools of sun and the sea's song crooning from the near distance.

The demigoddess stumbles over a skull in her high-headed fear, the crunch of rotting bone beneath her feet sending the girl reeling backwards, her fear nearly palpable. A horn, cracked and broken, crowns the grotesque thing like some feeble triumph. Her breath comes in gulps, sides heaving with adrenaline and fright. I must not run. Fueled by aberrant, morbid curiosity, the child steps forward, pink nose shoved forward. It smells of rot and decay, of life draining away to the pine needles beneath. In a fit of pity, the girl finds the sunflower from her hair and lays it carefully beneath the beast's horn. She leans back, admiring her work, but a flash of red catches her eye, and suddenly her ballerina legs lurch toward it, and she finds herself at the mouth of a small pool, lined with bloody jewels. They sparkle in her wide, luminous eyes like greed. She edges her way gingerly towards the tallest sentinel she has ever seen - it stands hopelessly taller than its neighbors and throws an even longer shadow. Pink lips taut with determination, she dips a hesitant hoof into its depths, sharping sucking in the sweet-smelling as the cold fluid envelops it. Another leg follows, until both her forelegs are submersed to the knee. Her golden feet glitter beneath the water, and they slide over the smooth, ruby facets. The reflection is a pretty girl, a tall girl, pale as death with wings like angels and an elk's horn perched on her forehead, but her eyes are red, redder than the gemstones beneath her heels. When the light enters them, though, they explode into shades of gold and orange, and she almost laughs.

What now?

Without hesitation, she submerges her face, horn scraping awkwardly against the bottom. In a rush of bravado, she lodges its tip beneath a gem, neck straining to loosen it. When it begins to falter, she jerks her head upward, water cascading from her delicate marble features. With little more than a nudge of the tip of her hoof, the garnet loosens completely, and she brings it to shore - it sparkles like new blood in the dim sun. Wet as a dog, Israfel heaves a sigh of relief and admires her work.