The fire was warm and comfortable, which was more than Jasper could say for any of the three paths. He sat back down and stared into the flames, wondering what had gone wrong. Perhaps, he rationalized, he had hit his head; he had amnesia, and that's why he could remember what had happened before he had found himself falling. He shook his head. Something didn't feel right at all. The sky was too dark, and the earth was too flat and ordered. Even the fire...
He stared at the flames. They crackled their way up and down over a small pile of wood. There was something very odd about even that, but it took some moments for him to realize.
“The fire's not burning the wood.” he said.
“Well noticed,” came a voice from behind. Jasper spun around, springing to his feet. He hadn't heard anyone approach.
Before him there was something that could only be described as a ghost. It was female, a spotted lynx wearing what appeared to be a form of toga, fastened with a broad below her left shoulder. She appeared brightly to him, but her brightness did not illuminate the darkness around her.
“Who are you?” Jasper snarled. It was the second time his thoughts had been interrupted by a strange woman.
“My name is Esmerelda, but you can call me Esme, if you like,” she said, hovering a few feet above the ground. “And you're Jasper. It's good to meet you, unfortunately.”
“Why does everyone seem to know my name?” Jasper said, defensively. “And what do you mean, unfortunately?” his eyes went wide and he stepped backwards. “Am I...” he began.
“Dead?” Esmerelda almost smirked. “No, no, no – don't worry about that, but yes. I am.”
“Then what happened to me?” Jasper asked.
Esmerelda frowned. “I... can't tell you,” she said quietly.
Jasper sighed in annoyance. “Well, what can you tell me then? So far everyone I've met has been woefully unhelpful.”
“I can tell you why the wood's not burning,” she said, drifting forwards a little.
“Great – so you can solve problems which defy physics, but you can't tell me how you know my name?”
The ghost nodded. “Yup, that's about right.”
“Can't or won't?” Jasper asked, then shook his head. “Nevermind,” he said and sat back on the ground, staring into the fire.
“It is beautiful, isn't it?” Esmerelda said, carefully after a moment.
“Fire always is,” Jasper said quietly. The flames danced in his eyes. Esmerelda's were dark and blank. “It's warm. We're driven to it like moth to a flame. They say there's an arsonist in everyone – a person who's love of destruction only awakens when they first see a naked flame.”
“So your fire is a destructive force?” asked Esmerelda.
“It is a conquering power. It represents passion and survival and... I'm sorry,” he said, looking over as Esmerelda as she let out a little gasp.
She swallowed deeply, without a sound, in her ethereal form. “I gave up survival a long time ago. Please, continue.”
“Well uh...” Jasper began, forcing himself to take his gaze off the ghost. “Man, I can't even go two minutes without insulting another person. Even a ghost.”
“Oh, mark my words. Your heathen words have scarred my very soul, and from my pit of jealousy and despair I'll reach out an icy finger of death and curse you for all eternity,” Esmerelda said.
“Are you serious?!” Jasper said, a little taken aback.
“No, of course not,” Esmerelda said with a laugh. “You're a big doofus,” she said, pushing out with an arm, which phased right through Jasper's body, leaving a cold sensation. “Oh... yeah... I forgot. Sorry.”
Jasper rubbed his shoulder where she had tried to push him. “D-don't worry,” he said, trying to remain calm. “I'm sure it happens to ghosts all the time.”
“More than you'd believe,” she said with a bit of a sheepish grin.
It was a little disconcerting to suddenly feel someone pass through you, and for a moment he could think of nothing to say, so he stared back into the fire.
“So why are you here, Esme?” he said after a while.
“To say the right things,” she answered cryptically. “Why are you still here?”
“It's warm.”
“But you're not getting anywhere,” Esmerelda pointed out.
“I don't want to,” Jasper replied. “This place... doesn't feel right. At least here feels...”
“Warm?” Esmerelda finished for Jasper.
Jasper nodded. “There's no rush here. No time at all.”
“But the fire won't last forever,” Esmeralda said.
“Nothing ever does.” Jasper looked upwards into the sky. “Even the stars will eventually burn out. Perhaps they already have.”
Esmerelda looked hesitant before she spoke next. “The fire... it won't burn down the logs because it's not real.”
“Feels real to me,” Jasper said.
“Most things here will,” Esmerelda said. “Come over here.”
Esmerelda drifted away from the fire, to the very edge of it's circle of light, beckoning Jasper to follow. He did so obediently.
“Now look back upon the fire.”
Jasper did so, and noticed something quite peculiar. “I'm still warm,” he said. “Just as warm as I was right next to it.
Esmerelda nodded, then drifted back over to the fire. “Now... watch what happens when I do this,” Esmerelda said, then plunged her hand into the very centre of the fire. Jasper reached out to stop her reflectively, but was stopped cold by an icy chill which filled his chest. He couldn't breathe, and staggered a foot forwards before falling to his knees, his head losing focus on dangling limply from his shoulders. Suddenly the icy chill left him, and he looked up weakly to see Esmerelda returning to him.
“How did you... what did you?” Jasper began.
“Things here are always more than they seem, Jasper,” she said, glancing nervously as the fire flickered back into life, quickly returning to it's former glory. “Using this fire for warmth would be like eating your own flesh for sustenance,” she said, darkly.
“I don't understand,” Jasper said.
“I know, I know,” Esmerelda said. “Just do us all a favour. Be careful.”
Jasper stared back at the fire. He felt weakened, his body shuddered. When he finally recovered the strength, he stood and looked around. The ghost had left. Esmerelda was nowhere to be seen. The comfort her felt from looking at the fire was replaced by a wariness. It felt somewhat dangerous to him now. The paths were still all open. It was time for him to choose.
