Her spirit was forged and broken in the flames of war. At first, she found a serenity in the fires raging around us. The same inferno that tried to devour me were flickering embers playing in the blues of her eyes. As time went on, little pieces of her soul would chip away to linger at the battles we had overcome. Slowly, leaving nothing left of who she used to be.
She stares out vacantly at the countless bodies bowed at her feet; Her garment cloaked in red at their expense. War’s ravaged mistress trapped in a shell of herself. Mutilated by the very flames from which she was born.