She stared at the flower like it was the first time she had seen a flower. It's petals vibrant and full of life, much like she had been all those years ago.
"You are damaged inside." The witch said, that was true. She was damaged inside and out. Her skin was littered with scars, some of them so small only she knew they were there, but still they marred her skin all the same. As did the damage inside of her. "You are damaged, but you are the only hope we have left."
Hope was the most deadly thing one could possess. Hope was the most painful killer.
"I know." So she would fight for a world that was not hers, for the people that were not hers, but she would do it for the innocent, the broken and damned.
She would fight for the people who had done this to her.
Pain! Pain! Excruciating pain! And the agony of betrayal!
That's all she felt, that's all she could think of.
Her once beautiful and soulful eyes now dead, replaced with tears of blood.
Her heart-once warm and beating-cut open, now turned to stone.
Her mind, body, and soul had died in the fire which consumed and reshaped her.
Her heart bled, her eyes bled, her mouth bled-they all bled blood.
Her heart, once betrayed by love, closed off to love with only one feeling keeping it alive: hatred-extreme hatred. Never to love again.
Betrayed, stabbed, injured, torn apart-she experienced it all.
But... now given a second chance to change everything, she swore to make those who caused her to lose everything burn down with her in her heart of flames.
And then he said to her, "You want to burn them all? I'll be the spark to your flames. We will burn them all together in your heart of flames."