There was one. Alone in the cold, freezing in its shelter, no warmth of the heart. By luck of lightning, sparks fly and begin to burn. It ran out to see its kindling. By feed and fan, fire grows and glows. Feelings thaw and become brighter. The fire kept it warm; it fed the fire to keep it burning. There were now two. 
     Fire carried on wood, even when far away they were close. Always by each other's side to support. Never sleeping in the shelter, sleeping by the fire. Always looking for ways to better the other. It soon knew the fire could do much more than warmth and light. The fire burned bright keeping the darkness at bay, and after grueling for food in the desolate forest, the fire made the treats of life even better. The sear of being together was the best flavor. 
     Soon winter besieged the forest, and the fire needed to burn larger than ever. Almost all its time was dedicated to keeping the fire burning.  Missing meals, unable to sleep, and backbreaking work fighting the frost for the fire. It would not be cold again. 
     But the more the fire was grown, the harder it was to keep it burning. The fire quickly burned through the supply of lumber that it had built for it. In desperation, it began to throw its own food into the fire. I flared and cackled, but it had no effect. It knew what it had to do. It would not be cold again. 
     It grabbed its torch, trying its best to shield it from the chill, and walked towards its shelter. It gently raised the flame to the last thing it had. And the fire consumed. As if it were hungry, the fire engulfed the entire wood. All it had ever known was burning. It could not be happier. 
But then the rain began to fall, the wet ice from the sky began to kill the flames. With no supplies left to feed the fire, it felt an unbearable sorrow. It had given everything to the fire, and now, it is leaving. Gone in the wind. It only saw one last option. It needed to save it. It needed to be warm.  For it would never be cold again. 
     It smiled as it looked around its forest, now a raging battleground between fire and ice. It knew what it had to do. It would save the fire. Its companion. It walked deep into the smoke and into the fire. It was the most painful, seething pain it had ever felt. It was agony every single moment. It was bad. It was happy. It was with its other half. It would never be cold again. It would never be again. It was gone, ash in the breeze.  
     And then there was one.  
     And then there was none.