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Some say the world began in ice while ending in fire. Others start with fire and end with ice. And then there are the people who believe neither and some in both. From what I've tasted of desire, I stand with those who feed off nothing other than the air surrounding them and the food supplied at their dinner tables. Ice means slow burn. Fire means quick ignition. Both clash with each other. No matter how many angles you try to look at it — no element wins. They will never win as long as the other remains. But nor can be destroyed. So it's a forever confrontation.
But, indeed, it must work, right? If fire and ice can work together, then what so simple as a society cannot. Fire and ice are elements — they have no state of mind such as people do. That is why they work so well together while civilizations cannot. We are not elements. Rather highly technical floods of emotions with both fire and ice coursing through our veins. But this time, those elements don't collaborate smoothly. With the extra ingredient of emotions, they are unbalanced and cause mayhem.
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"Do you know the purpose of these stories I read to you every night, Nadeleine Louise," my mother asked me, my curtain of blonde hair blocking her view of my small face under the dense blankets. I shook my head, clutching onto the top throw. "To teach you the horrors of our world along with the wonders," she muttered gently, tracing my soft rosy cheek. A sheepish grin fell across my lips, and I snuggled into the sheets of my bed.
"Goodnight, mother," I said once she stood up and tucked me in.
"Goodnight, Nadeleine," my mother whispered, shutting the slim door as she walked out.
"I'm fire," my girlish giggle filled the room, and my shoulders relaxed into my pillow. I'm fire.
