My Child Is A Villain
Burn marks covering half the face, curly dirty hair, the clothes he was wearing reeked of sulphur.
The spoiled child, overfavored by the Spirit of Fire, looked at Adele in the distance, wiggling only his fingers. Adele laughed at the child, holding back her heart. And spread both arms.
“Ronshka, come here.”
The childhood of a child who would fly splendidly in the future dealing with the Spirit of Fire was so miserable. And Adele wanted to ease the pain of such a child.
It was just that.