Work Text:
Everyone views fire differently. Some view it as something warm and welcoming, a comfort with the sound of a crackling fireplace and the smell of charring wood. Others view it as a terror. Something that can tear apart anything at a moment's notice, reducing it to nothing but ash and soot. Destroying anything it touches, alive or not.
Most people see the element as something dangerous and feral when not tamed properly.
However, he was among the few that saw it as a blessing.
He always enjoyed how the embers danced in-between his fingers, putting on a show of heat and light. As he, himself would tango with the flames as they swirled around him with graceful steps. The two creating a spectacle for those who dared to view it in the heat of his home valley. His songs of praise and joy would flow from his lips without a second thought every moment of the day.
But at the same time he knew of the dangers it held. He saw firsthand what happens when such power goes untamed from the red dragon themselves. He watched as they nearly burnt a cookie with pink hair and a shield to a crisp with his own two eyes.
And yet, he still found the element more welcoming despite everything. He knew with just a sneeze while visiting the one he cared most about, the whole forest could be lit up on a far more ugly dance than his in the valley.
But that never stopped him.
Even when his own flames began to grow uncontrollable from the heat and he was writhing in pain from the sheer power of it compared to his frail, pastry body. Even when he was close to burning down everything and dubbed the "lord of flames". Even when it almost killed him.
He still managed to find comfort in it, and enjoy the calm of the trained embers.
And when his flames began to fade out, as he was slowly reducing to nothing but ash. He wanted them back, no matter how much of a liability it made him in the eyes of others. He wanted his, slightly questionable, source of comfort back.
He craved the encore.
And when he got it back, he truly began to see the cataclysm they would describe it as.
He would watch in whatever reflections he could find, as the fire on his head would waltz on their own, the wings that sprouted from it joining in the choreography.
He began to hate it.
He couldn't control it. He couldn't watch how it danced with him, but rather began to move without him. As the flames would force others to join in before dying out and turning to black. He knew it wouldn't stop anytime soon either, he often lost himself in the fire's dance of death. Partaking in how the world around him would slowly lose itself along with him. As he took a step with his right foot, the embers would join. And with the left, it would follow. Their shouts filling the world around him, making a song of morbid encouragement to continue.
And when it ended, he could only look at the aftermath as those who would've asked for an encore were now long gone. Having either fled what they dubbed the immortal cataclysm or turning to the afterlife for solitude. Nobody was left, and yet the fire still continued to dance without an audience. He knew eventually he would be the only one left after all the song and dance. That thought alone brought painful tears forward to fall down his face, as the water fizzled away from the heat of his skin. Not even the water from the ocean's maiden or the forest's wind could put him out. So he looked to the sky as he did his own deathly dance, ignoring those on the ground that finished their own performance and left long ago. He could only softly sing his own plea for everything to end, singing for those that now lacked the ability to do so. As he and the fire took step, after step on the ground.
"I don't care if even I disappear...that might even be better."
And a moment, his own dance had come to an end. No more dancers to take the stage. No more songs to hold the ears that heard it. It was over. It was the end. All that remained was a small, red bead.
And there was finally, no encore.