Though everything was covered in ash, the fire still burned, glowing in the night. The grey flakes settled over all the land as the billowing flames sent their dark smoke, their blasphemous dark smoke, into heaven. She burned in fury, in confusion, terrified as her very soul was caught up in the licking tongues of the bonfire. The cackling logs were drowned in her cackling screams. For years we have burned her, uprooting forests to feed the flames, but her voice still screams at us in agony. Now everything is ash, and the raging hell which once held the whole city is now dwindled back to what it was: A pike, a woman, and a fire. And we are left, burned by our own fury, ashes and bone.