Jacob and I stand amid the rubble of The Village. Dozens of homes are blazing, the flames reaching higher and higher.

The Villagers who once lived here are _gone_. The Flame has them now, the way It has me.

I take Jacob's hand, though it's cold, and squeeze it as hard as I'm able. He doesn't know me anymore, and I don't know him. I _shouldn't_ know him. He's my secret.

"I'll fix this," I promise him. He doesn't hear me. He does nothing but stare blankly ahead, his eyes cloudy and gray. Funny, I thought they were brown. They used to be brown.

"I promised to keep you safe," I speak again, knowing Jacob will never answer. "I will keep that promise."

What hurts more than anything is knowing Jacob is this way because of me. I did this to him, despite my promise. Because of this, I have to undo what I've done.

Some day are easier than others. Today is a good day. I have more control over myself. Most days, the Flame has me. I forget who I am and my promise. I do things I hate and spend the rest of my time forgetting them.

For instance, this Village fire. I set the flames. I burned these people's homes to ruins. I gave them, willingly, into the hands of the Flame.

Now, I stand with a ghost. The ghost of the boy I destroyed. The boy I loved. _Once_. I don't remember a lot, but I must have loved him once.