“Flame is a tool as powerful as the blade or the horse. But unlike a weapon which is grasped firmly in the hand, flame, once released, will not obey commands. It is a treacherous regiment to be sure. And yet there are times when those unfaithful soldiers must be put to the field.” With that he lowered the torch to the kindling that had been stacked around a cracked and brittle tree, long dead, held upright only by the healthy limbs surrounding it. Soon the forest was an orange riot of exploding crowns.
By this light we waited for them to come forth in ragged black, their substance no more than silhouettes.