Skin-shedding dance: Fantasy

When the time came for her to do the ritual skin-shedding dance, she quailed back into the darkness. She still remembered the last time she had been summoned, but only in a haze of pain and color, fire and sweet-smelling smoke. After the ritual, she had thrown up anytime she smelled smoke for the next week. She hadn't cooked much even since. Fruit was good, and vegetables. Even rice. But the scent of burning meat could still drive her to her knees. But she was summoned, and so she must go. She stood in front of the polished metal mirror and stared at her body, trying to remember what it looked like this time so that she would never lose its image, not even when it was be gone. She ran her hand over her skin.

Inspiration: Haven't a clue.
Story Potential: High, but only as a setting.
Notes: Aztec in flavor.