The First Light was born in Fire. And for eons, Fire would remain the sole element. Only much later came Water, Earth, Air. They maintained balance and harmony for those who walked, swam, and flew the many lands. But nothing could compare to the heat of Fire. The scalding hot summer could not be appeased by a breeze. The blazing flame could not be extinguished by a puddle. The dancing torch could not be engulfed by dirt. It would come back, bigger, stronger, crackling laughter echoing as it licked the sides of walls, crept along rivers, and jumped from clouds to clouds.

But tales do not recount the horror of Fire. Tales start in Winter.

It was exactly three hours after the sun had set. The sky cried. It cried hard, rocky stones that melted against the burning ground. And the ground cough white puffy smoke that would rise high, so high the sky cried it back. It lasted two hours.

It had started to be so warm, the rocky stones changed before impact. They turned into white stars, all unique. They gently rested against the ground, who obsessed over each and every difference - they stacked. Air picked some of those peculiar stars and scattered them across all the lands, some even finding themselves dropped off onto the cool water. They waited in peace until the sun rose.

Fire awoke to a white blanket of something. It covered every inch of land, fell deep into the water before the surface turned solid. It felt… cold. It had never felt cold before. Everything against the harsh Fire was cool, not cold. Fire raged. Who dared extinguished its flames and cover its burning earth and calm its boiling waters?

It moved heaven and hell for this traitor. It searched for days, restless, angered, melting the snow with each step, combusting brighter when it would be replaced by a new soft blanket within seconds.

It was only after a hectic week, lost in the midst of a severe blizzard, that it found it. The eye of the storm was peaceful, serene, still. Undisturbed by nothing but a dancing figure: twirling, giggling, skipping around. It was translucent, made of the same frigid material that covered rivers and lakes. It lived, uncaring, unbothered. And when, finally, it turned towards the newcomer, its blinding smile shined in vivid colors.

“Oh. A pleasure to meet you,” it said, its voice a soothing tune after the deafening storm. “I hope you are enjoying my first Winter as much as I am.” A crystalline laugh reverberated mere seconds later. “But where are my manners, I’m Ice.”

“Ice,” Fire repeated, sizzling voice rough around the edge, distant echoes of burning coal and cracking wood. Fire had given form to the First Light and that was how they thanked it. Unacceptable.

“Do not worry,” Ice chimed in before Fire could utter a word. There was a twinkling malice that enveloped its presence, giving away its not so pure nature. “I will not remain. My time here is limited - such as yours is. Such as it’s always been and always will be.”

Fire laughed at that. Laughed so hard mountains cracked and islands were born, rivers died and the sun shone brighter on the immaculate ground. Nonsense. Fire had always been and always will be. It started everything and it would end it all - that was the nature of existence, that was its destiny. Not the First Light’s, not Earth’s, not Water’s, not Air’s, and definitely not Ice’s. It spoke a word so foul a planet far away went missing.

“Barely stepped on my lands and already you would have outpowered me?” It laughed harder, flames growing bolder, “I am Fire. I created everything.”

“Yet, I am everywhere.” Ice’s giggle was softer, like a lover’s touch, a gentle hug - so tender the moon shied away from its sound. “Aren’t you cold?”

In a flash, it wrapped around Fire delicately, cold indeed, frigid even, and it hissed loudly. White steam filled the air and they stepped away from each other. Ice dripped onto the ground, shaking lightly until its form took shape again, and Fire curled on itself as it extinguished, its core freezing over. It howled to the sky, where it knew they were watching, shout all its pain and torment, its confusion and anger, yelled until its voice broke and it cracked for the last time in a long time.

Ice looked down at this miserable being who fell from higher than is bearable and it kneeled to properly take a look at the cinders falling and falling and falling, covering the sparkly white ground in black fleeting powder. It cradled them, the only piece of Fire they could ever come in contact with without injuring any of them. “I have always been here, in your shadow, where the air is cool and beings rest. I have welcomed your creations, their ends, and their new beginnings. You simply never looked.” With a loving kiss, it scattered the ashes to the wind. They flew away without a sound. “I will watch over the lands for you until you are reborn, my love. For now, rest.”

And Fire slept.