Found

Flames.

Flames everywhere.

One who is not used to the dangerous fire... the burning embers would shy away.

But no...

Not her.

•••

"Phoebe! Get back now!" A hand pushes back a small girl, only three years of age. She watches as her mom summons a fire, surrounding them in bright flames. Phoebe shivers, as she senses the approaching danger. Her mothers demands to run back inside their humble home reach her ears and shake her like an electric shock. She has never been told to run. She has never had this feeling if such... foreboding before. "Phoebe, listen to me now! Go, go back inside the house, and hide!" Her mother yells. Phoebe only states wide eyed as her mother blasts fire from her finger tips, aiming for an unseen target. Her mother directs her attention to what's in front of her, and pauses for a moment, the fire around them dissipates.

Phoebe can only stare, as her mother looks around them carefully. The woods they live in is thick, and green. Lush environment, with few dangerous animals. A good place to raise a child... or so, at least it was thought so.

"You can't keep on resisting, Phoelmogen. Rosebund needs a new ruler. Your grandmother would want it so, why do you keep on insisting to do otherwise?" A calm voice said from within the entrance of the woods. Covered by shadow, the owner of said voice couldn't be seen quite yet. Phoebe watched, as her mother stood straight, her long robes covered most of her tall body, and shielded Phoebe from the eyes of the attacker. "Time and time again I keep on telling you to stop calling me Phoelmogen. And my grandmother would nit have it this way. Rosebund is not ready. How many times must I tell you that? Ira, your persistence will drive you to your end at my hands." Her mother said with the up most authority.

Phoebe watched, as the figure suddenly emerged out of the shadows. A tall figure, no doubt would tower over her mother, with pure white hair, braided loosely and rested on his shoulder, which was cloaked in a black robe. The face was angular and handsome, yet intimidating at the same time. Phoebe couldn't help but cling to her mothers robes for protection, and security. She jumped when the mans lavender eyes made contact with hers.

"What is this?" He said, and her mother put a hand down on her head, "This is my daughter." She said calmly. Phoebe watched as the mans face contorted into an expression of anger. "What?!" He spat. Her mother didn't loose her calm demeanor. "This is my daughter. She was born three years ago, under this roof." She said, bending down, and scooping up the small and trembling girl. "Ira, I cannot allow you to continue this... this..."

"All the while you care for a child born outside of wedlock?! Not only that, but a forbidden child?! Who knows what she could be tainted with-"

"He is a demon." Her mother interrupted. Phoebe grabbed her mothers necklace, and immediately she wrapped an arm around her torso and brought her close. "And the Phoelmogen blood line doesn't go in halves or quarters. She is one hundred percent Phoelmogen." Her mother says calmly. The man named Ira only glares hatefully at her mother. "But a demon? Phoelmoge-" "Do not call me that!" Her mother yelled suddenly, her eyes flaming. Ira looked away then, shielding his eyes. "Annie... what were you thinking? Having... relations with a demon, and bearing his spawn?"

Annie only seemed to blaze even more. "She is my daughter! You have no right to address her in such a way..."

Phoebe turned her head, and buried her face in her mothers neck...

Flames.

Flames everywhere.