The years had eroded her memory. All anyone knew about her was that which she could recall about herself.
Once she was immensely powerful. A fireweaver of unparralleled ability. Her name was lost. Her age was lost. She called herself the fire feeder. Sustaining her life involved draining power from other, less magnificent creatures. She had consumed the lives of countless beasts, people and animals alike.
Like the flame that birthed her, the more powerful she grew, the more fuel she required to keep herself alight. Her entire being was given over to consumption and death. She flitted on the air like a breath, and her passing meant only destruction.
She revelled in it.
But she grew old.
Time binds all. This much she knew. She had sensed the boy some time ago, tasted his power. The urge to slake her evil thirst was almost unbearable. It was all she could do to hold her own instinctive will to absorb him in check.
No. She sought a different destiny for this one. She sought not a meal, nor a victim.
She sought a student.
The fire feeder purred to herself. A baby. A killer. Trained and schooled in her skill and understanding of death, but taught restraint and control.
He had shown that his power could be reigned in. A trait that the fire feeder herself found almost impossible.
If he had failed to control himself, the fire feeder would have murdered him, and the entire settlement.
She purred a soot ridden coo to herself, the depth of her insanity comforting her...
No. She would wait. She would creep, and cajole, and capture his heart.
Then she would make him immortal.