This little piece is somewhat more abstract than I had intended. Ah well, can't get everything right on the first try.
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Any woodsman knows that fire destroys.
He learns this first on the night of the storm, when the flames of an enemy first touch his skin and loss first sears his soul.
He could die there, easily enough; his would not be the first passing of the night. But another has lost even more than he, and how right would it be to leave her without support when she has lost every root of home she has?
So he wakes and goes to her, and in doing so becomes the fuel for her spirit’s growing flame. She grows stronger from him, taking comfort in his steadiness and friendship.
When they are separated, he finds himself tempted to lose heart. It would be too easy to let those who once nearly destroyed him finish the job, with his friend gone and the duty of his forbearers failed. The knowledge burns him as the flames once had, reminding him of his failure to keep those dear to him safe.
But he cannot; even absent she will not let him. For as he supported her so she did much the same for him, her trust and affection burning away over time the brush that was his grief for the painful stump of his father’s life and the crushed shoots that were another boy’s unlucky fate.
Fire can destroy, and the malice-fueled fires his enemies command could have easily killed him. But a cunning woodsman also knows that it can be the forest’s greatest salvation, burning away underbrush and preventing a terrible wildfire. When it is done, the young trees are safe, capable of growing strong and reaching the greatest of heights. She and he are the same, for the hope she inspires in him is greater than any despair he can imagine. Her spirit is the greatest source of his strength.
And to see the fire of her smile again, he will be stronger than he has ever dreamed he could be.