Sejuka

What is a spark to do when it finds itself living amongst dry leaves? For Sejuka, this was not a riddle. It was a daily exercise in caution. They arrived in The Heart of the Forest with a city-worn crimson cap and a past that smelled more of smoke than pine. The locals, obsessed with food and song, were endlessly kind, but Sejuka kept their distance, terrified the scorching embers on their back might accidentally ignite the amber trees. They tried to help with the harvest, but their reflexes were too quick, more suited for dodging trouble than picking berries. It was during a storytelling circle that a sudden gust nearly extinguished the central fire. Instinctively, Sejuka turned, and a gentle wave of heat from their embers coaxed the flames back to life. They still don’t quite understand the local songs, but they’ve learned their warmth has a place here.