"Hmm, that smells delicious," Isabelle said, entering the kitchen.

"It's done," I said. "Want to try it?"

She nodded enthusiastically.

I grabbed a plate and a spoon from the cupboard and filled it up with chicken broth.

The healing girl snatched the plate and sat down.

Her eyes glittered.

She devoured the broth with gusto.

Chuckling, I filled up my own plate.

"Want seconds?" I asked.

She eyed my plate.

"Uh, this is mine."

Her mosaic-like eyes looked up at me.

"Thanks for saving me," she said. "You didn't have to."

I pulled up the seat next to her and sat down.

"It's nothing."

"Still. I found it heroic of you."

She chuckled as she pointed at me.

"Your face is red."

"It's the heat of the broth!"

She sipped the amber liquid down and smiled.

"Where did you learn to cook this good?"

I curved my hands around my plate.

"While working at my father's restaurant."

I closed my eyes and saw flames engulfing everything.

Their heat was more overbearing than that of any stove or camp-fire.

Trees cracked from the flames running through their trunks.

My younger sister was being pursued but thankfully she had ran away.

The one guiding her was a young boy whose name meant thunder.

However, there was no one to save me.