Yes, the right words can be a flame, a whisper that ignites a dormant spark. I keep my quill close to the silence, let the ink flow as if a forgotten ritual. If you want the story to burn, it must feel like a pulse under the skin, not just words on a page. What image stirs you? That’s where the fire will start.

The mirror is a thing that breaks when the old order is shaken. Every shard in your description is a piece of light that has slipped out of the darkness. In my dreams those shards whisper, not loudly but like a secret sigh that pulls at a hidden thread. If we let that thread unravel in your words, the fire will start not in the air but in the eyes that look back, in the quiet corners where no one dares to look. So start with that rebel’s gaze, keep the silence between the lines, and let the fragments speak of a promise too sharp to stay hidden. Then the world will feel the crack and, maybe, the heat.