There was only one thing that she missed, that she longed to remember. Everything was meant to change and die, to be reborn, but this change was unsatisfying. The rise was not what it should be, and the world needed her even more. Everything around her needed to burn, needed a fresh start, but she was beginning to question if even that was enough.
She pressed a warm hand to the brow of the child and shook her head. It had been dead for some time. One day it would wake as one of the lost. She hated the lost. They stumble around seeking their past instead of taking their new life to start again. It was stagnation in rotted flesh.
She rose to her feet and lit her hands a flame. If she burned the body to bones, she could save the child from such a life. Save it from its ultimate fate to be mindless. She cast the fire over them and watched as the body burned. It took some time to fully render it to bone. She paused and picked up a small finger bone and slipped it into a pouch on her hip. She then resumed her fire, burning the rest of the bones, to ash.
She took her leave, wondering if what she did had mattered. She was saving the child from a cursed life of seeking the past. Then again, even she longed to remember how it felt to feel the sun.