~ “Before the stars called to me, the fire shaped who I became.”

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I’d always felt different from others, but I couldn’t quite pinpoint when it began.

Maybe it was that day — the day I lost her.

That memory was not just embedded in my mind — it was carved, seared deep into my soul like a wound that refused to heal. As vivid as if it had happened only yesterday, it haunted me in fragments and flashes.

I was only four years old...

——————

“Grandma, we’ll go home soon. Just wait a little.”

I remember the weight of her hand in mine—dry, fragile, but full of warmth. I gripped it tightly with my tiny fingers, trying to drag her with me out of the wreckage. The car was a mangled mess of twisted metal and scorched upholstery. Smoke coiled like black serpents around us, thick and acrid, crawling into my lungs and choking every breath.

I coughed, gagged, but held on. My tiny arms wrapped around her waist as I tugged with all my might. The seatbelt had locked up, trapping her in place like an iron chain.

“Vedu, more force.” I urged myself, muttering the words aloud in between gritted teeth. My voice trembled, torn between fear and childish fierceness.

Summoning every ounce of strength in my little body, I strained against the seatbelt that trapped her frail frame. My arms burned. Tears streamed down my cheeks. Not from the pain or the smoke. But from something far worse — the helplessness.

But I refused to give up. Every muscle in my tiny body ached, but the thought of leaving her was unbearable.

Old Madam Narayan’s voice cut through the crackling fire and my sobs. “Don’t cry, Vedki. Grandma is alright.” Her voice was soft — gentle, like always. But this time, it was too soft. Each word seemed to fade even as she spoke it.

She was lying to protect me. Even back then, I knew. Her words felt like a lullaby clashing against a nightmare.

The heat intensified. The flames licked the dashboard, inches from us, and the acrid stench burned my nose and eyes. My arms screamed in pain. My legs shook. But I refused to let go.

“Please! Help me!” I cried out, begging for more assistance.

Desperation clung to my words like a heavy weight, echoing in the empty surroundings. “I want to save her! I want to save my Grandma!”

Her breathing grew labored as she spoke again, her words trembling. “Nanhi Veda, get out of the car if you need help.”

“Call your parents.”

“No!” I protested, shaking my head vehemently. My vision blurred with smoke and sorrow.

But I refused to leave her side.

“I’ll get help!” I cried, casting frantic glances outside the shattered window. “There are people out there! The driver… and a man — a man who looks just like you, Grandma!”

Her hand gripped mine suddenly — harder than before. Her old eyes widened. Her breath hitched.

“What… what did you say?” she asked, trembling. “A man who looks like me?”

I nodded quickly, confused. “Yes! Why aren’t they helping us?! Why aren’t they moving?!”

Her lips quivered. Tears welled in her eyes — not from pain. From something else. From recognition. Sorrow. Realization.

She knew something I didn’t.

She looked at me one last time, her fingers brushing my soot-covered cheek. “Vedika… listen carefully.” Her voice cracked. “Go. Call your parents. Leave this place now.”

“But—Grandma—”

Her whisper was almost lost in the roar of the growing fire. “If you want to save me... you must go.” Her voice trailed off. Her words laced with a sense of resignation, a knowledge that I couldn’t comprehend back then.

I hesitated, torn between her words and the fear gripping my heart.

My legs — once frozen. My heart — screaming in silence. But in her eyes, I saw it: urgent clarity. And that alone made me move.

I stumbled out of the car, running as fast as my little legs would carry me. The smoke clawed at my lungs. My tears blurred the world. Everything felt wrong.

I reached the roadside. My phone — cracked — still worked. My hands trembled as I dialed.

“Why are you late?” My father’s voice came through the line.

But before I could even respond—

BOOM!

A deafening explosion erupted the air.

I dropped the phone.

My scream echoed across the ruins.

“GRANDMA!”I screamed until my voice gave out.

That moment didn’t just change me. It broke something inside me.

——————

A month passed.

And then... the impossible began.

At first, I thought it was just my grief playing tricks. But then the shadows began to speak.

They started appearing. Ghosts.

Not in my dreams. Not imagined.

Real.

Their forms shimmer like fragments of another world.

Some were clear as a day, others like a faint whisper caught in the sunlight.

I could see them. I could hear them.

They followed me. Watched me. Whispered to me.

Most were harmless. Lost souls tethered to the world by unfinished stories, regrets, or desires too strong to let go. Some were kind. Some... were not.

No one else could see them. No one else believed me.

I stopped telling people after a while. Even my parents.

And that’s when I truly became alone — not just in my sight, but in my silence.

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“Ved...”

The voice was soft at first, like a whisper tugging at the edges of a dream, but a bit familiar, and it grew more persistent with each passing time.

“Ved, darling... wake up!”

It felt like someone was shaking me vigorously, their voice piercing my drowsiness as they shouted... “Wake up!”

A sudden jolt woke her — Vedika Narayan — from her slumber. Her mouth was still agape, and drool clung to the corner of her lips as she lurched upright.

“Mmm...” She murmured, her voice husky from sleep. She rubbed her eyes, trying to shake off the haze. “Did we reach... our destination, Sumeru port, Shivangi?” She asked, her eyes slowly focusing on the girl in front of her.

Shivangi Goenka stood across from her, arms crossed. An exasperated look on her face.

Her milky fair skin glowed with a soft radiance, complemented by her rich, dark chestnut hair that cascades down her back in loose, luscious waves.

Her intoxicating blue eyes are like a deep ocean, drawing you in with their mesmerizing depth. If you gaze into them, you’ll feel like you’re being swept away into the unknown, lost in the depths of a boundless sea.

Her piercing blue eyes locked onto Vedika with mock disapproval. “Not yet. Still an hour to go.” Shivangi replied, shaking her head.

“But seriously — how do you fall asleep in the middle of our project?” She frowned, her voice tinged with mock annoyance.

“Project? Sleep?” Vedika mumbled, still half asleep, rubbing her eyes to clear the haze.

When her gaze fell to the table in front of her, where scattered wires and chips lay. Panic set in as she noticed a small puddle of drool dangerously close to the centerpiece of their work.

“Oh crap!” She jumped. Snatching a tissue, she wiped the table furiously. “Whew. It didn’t reach the chip. We’re safe.” She exclaimed, wiping the sweat from her forehead.

Shivangi narrowed her eyes, but then her expression brightened instantly. “So, is it done? ‘The God Chosen and Four Princes’?” She asked, her voice dancing with anticipation.

Her eyes sparkled like the moonlight in the ocean waves, shining bright with enthusiasm, and her entire demeanor radiated excitement.

She leaned forward, practically bouncing. Her whole being saying to me: “Tell me, it’s done!”

Vedika’s gaze slowly shifted to Shivangi, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. “Almost...” She began, her voice trailing off, inviting Shivangi’s curiosity.

She slid the chip into her wrist-top device. Her fingers danced across the interface, tapped a series of commands.

A soft hum. Then—

The projector in the middle of the table sprang to life — a burst of light illuminated the space.

Holograms spun to life:

Castles floating in the air. Warriors cloaked in celestial armor. Mystical beasts. Glowing portals. Swirling runes. Enchanted swords. Ethereal realms.

It was a universe—a living, breathing fantasy realm born from code and creativity, unfurling before their eyes.

Shivangi’s eyes widened in awe. “Oh my God…”

Her voice dropped to a whisper as she stepped forward, entranced by the vivid projection.

“This is… this is beyond anything I imagined!”

Her eyes brimmed with emotion. “You brought it to life… my story… every tiny detail. It’s alive.”

Vedika nodded, heart swelling. “You gave it soul. I just gave it a body.”

“As expected of the top youngest computerized genius of geniuses on the planet. You nailed it!” She continued to praise Vedika’s imaginative vision and dedication to bringing the game to life. “Your art and work are top-notch!” She gushed. “You’ve perfectly captured everything — the medieval, the regal, the chivalrous, and the mysterious — elements I wanted. It’s perfect!”

Her praise made me smile. I was used to it. But it felt... good.

For a fleeting moment, the heavy weight of my memories lifted. Shivangi’s joy was contagious — a bright contrast to the shadows that often haunted me.

Here, in this moment, I was just a girl and her friend — celebrating our success.

Vedika leaned back in her chair, her gaze fixed on their creation dance in the air. She let her smile linger.

The project was more than just a simulation—it was proof.

Proof that I could build something beautiful from pain.

That I wasn’t defined by loss.

That I could make magic real.

Born from Shivangi’s story and my own relentless pursuit, this creation wasn’t just code—it was a piece of my soul. A tangible reminder of how far I’d come since that fateful day. Of what I had survived. Of what I had created from the ashes.

But the past never truly let go. The fire still lingered in the corners of my memory, smoldering quietly—a constant reminder of all that I had gained, and all that I had lost.

And somehow, even in the quiet hum of simulated magic, I knew—this wasn’t the end.

This was only the beginning.

Shivangi clapped her hands in excitement. “This is going to be a hit!”Vedika beamed with Shivangi’s pride, her cheeks flushed like fresh red tomatoes.

“Thank you—thank you so much!” Shivangi said, her honey-sweet voice filled with gratitude. She smiled at her, bright and unfiltered. “You’ve no idea how much this means to me. Thank you, Vedika. Truly.”

Vedika glanced down at her wrist-top again, fingers tracing its surface.

And silently, made a vow.

Whatever comes next—visions, spirits, sorrow, or struggle—I will face it head-on.

Because I have purpose.

I have someone beside me.

And even in the darkest corners of memory, I’ve found light.

I am determined to hold onto that light… no matter what.