When I was little my father burned half of my face in our fireplace. I've always been embarrassed for the way I looked ever since. I hid myself from the people's eyes and when I was outside my face was mostly covered.

I'm living in a small cottage called Bulenia. I lived alone. My only friend was Richard Davis, who I met in a local pub one time and clicked with instantly. We have never talked about my scars and burns for which I'm very thankful to him. He is like a family to me.

One day we were went to the city. We had to buy wood and food and get back home. As we entered I could feel everyone's gaze on me. My hood wasn't that long as I usually wear so my face was easily seen. I could sense the disgust they had for me. I entered a local shop and I went to the back of the shop, so I don't attract unwanted attention, while Richard was choosing materials. I stopped in front of a table full of glass figures. While I was admiring the beautiful work, I could sense someone's eyes on me. I looked to my left and was a pair of smiling brown eyes. The woman looked around her 20s. She was softly smiling at me. A smile. She quickly looked away seeing me look at her and picked up one of the glass figures.

- Isn't it magical, how something once so dangerously hot and burning could turn into a peace of art? She said almost to herself. Then she looked at me once again, and gave me her smile again.