Kissed By Fire (Part-I)

Her black hair glinted bloody red as it caught a shard of sunlight that pierced through the window in the great hallway of Lord Wolvero's castle. Just the tips of her hair danced with fire as she moved along. Kissed by fire, they said when she was born. The legend has it that only one man-cub is born every two hundred centuries, the one who is kissed by fire. The man-cub bears good as well as ill fate, both to the extremities. But he or she is destined to rule every land that there is. Little Lyca did not really understand this. Her black-red hair gleamed gloriously against her wheat skin. It caught fire and then settled back as she went galloping through the ancient hallway. Kissed by fire. So she was. Different from others, never resting, kissed by fire and it's eternal warmth and beauty. And fury too.