A solitary bonfire lighted the fire demons’ camp, at the border of Kumari’s lands. Everyone was sleeping, except the chief. Sitting by the campfire, he unfolded a piece of cloth, revealing what was left was his children. The fire burnt stronger, drawing his attention; he breathed in deeply, controlling his anger, and slowly the fire calmed down too.

He wouldn’t allow his anger to take over. He’d feed on that feeling; the heat would keep him alive until he could retrieve the price for that humiliation. Like a fire, he’d spread quietly, hoping not to be noticed until it was too late to be put out. Looking at the wagon with the fireworks he had prepared to challenge the Tamaya with, he made plans; soon, someone would burn slowly in his hands.