I was seven when they burned me.

My family was slaughtered. They called us traitors. Witches. Monsters.

But I remember the truth now.
The man with the smile. The crowd that laughed.
The fire that devoured me... it never left.

I was reborn in a world of gold and titles, into a house that calls me “lady” and dresses me in silk.

But I am no lady.
I am the ashes of the girl you killed.
And the flame that remembers everything you did.

Now the fire lives in me.
It shows me your names. Your faces.
It whispers one promise:

Burn them all.

Ashes of me : The flame remembers