I'm burning alive. Literally. Every moment, every breath, every step for me is endlessly agony.
They’ve blamed me for all their troubles. “Since I am a witch, then burn me and the curse will be broken”, they thought. “Birds will sing and meadows turn green again. No pity for me. No mercy. Set me on fire”. It doesn’t matter that I treated the whole village. It doesn’t matter that they were begging me for magic. “Save us, we’ll be grateful forever”.
That’s how their gratefulness looked like. They tied me up and set me on fire. We made only one mistake that day. They didn’t consider the fact that I’m immortal. And I wasn’t expecting that someone would try to kill me.
I burned. I screamed. When I realized that fire can’t destroy me, I laughed. The fire gave me real power. I was fire itself that moment.
In the morning I rose from the ashes. Screaming. The pain didn’t stop. Since then I’m still standing in the middle of that bonfire.
But now I have the power.
I am the charmer of the flame.
I am Pyromancer.
And I will burn out the path to Death itself to regain rest and peace.