• Ember found herself suddenly in an enormous marsh. The grass was three feet high in some places and made it look rather like a rolling green sea when the wind blew. The breeze made an unnatural whistle as it passed through the meadow. Ember shivered and drew her thin shawl tighter around herself. She sniffed and smelled the briny, harsh smell of the salt marsh, but underneath there was also the sweeter, clean, seaweedy smell that was so familiar to her that she almost cried for joy. The sea. She could smell the ocean and it was close. Her memories of that place were as rich as the smell.
    Then, as if it had been waiting for some silent cue, flames erupted at the edge of the grass and surged forward in a solid wall of destruction. This was not typical fire, it was green and blue, from the salt and it was far more hungry, almost maliciously so, for the death and destruction of every living thing in its path. Ember ran, ran from that surging, heaving wall of heat. Ember ran for everything she was worth towards the sea, but it wasn’t enough, the flames caught up and embraced her. It was worse than death, worse than any pain Ember had ever felt. She fought but the fire won out in the end.