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 of past lives. And then… her face appeared.
A woman. Eyes filled with longing and sorrow. A seeker, yet unaware of her quest. A soul burdened by karma she did not yet understand.
The sage gasped. She was coming.
He reached for an ancient scroll, untouched for centuries, and placed it before the fire. The wind howled through the cracks in the walls as the flames consumed the parchment, revealing a prophecy written in embers:
"When the lost one finds the fire, the past shall awaken, and destiny shall be rewritten."
Far away, in a bustling city of glass towers and ceaseless noise, Vaidehi stirred from her sleep, her heart pounding, her palms burning as if she had touched fire.
She did not yet know the path that awaited her.
She did not yet know the power hidden in the flames.
But the fire had remembered her.
And now, it was calling her home.