The Fire Remembers

The air was thick with the scent of burning sandalwood and camphor. The dimly lit chamber, hidden deep within the ancient Himalayan monastery, resonated with the rhythmic chants of unseen voices. A single flame flickered in the center, casting elongated shadows on the stone walls covered in cryptic inscriptions.
A hunched figure, draped in saffron robes, knelt before the fire. His hands trembled as he traced the sacred symbols carved into the floor—a forgotten script, lost to time. He knew what he was about to do was forbidden. Yet, the prophecy had spoken. The fire had to be awakened once more.
He took a deep breath and whispered, "Agni smarati..."
The fire remembers.
As he placed the sacred herbs into the flames, the fire roared to life, turning blue, then violet, then an eerie white. The room trembled. Visions danced within the flames—cities rising and falling, kings and sages, battles...