At the top of a ruined tower near the western sea,
a single flame burned.
It had no guardian.
No scroll.
No banner fluttering from the stone.
Just fire—
quiet, low, unwavering.
It had burned for so long,
even the nearby villagers had forgotten its name.
"It was for defense, I think."
"Maybe a signal fire."
"Or a vow someone made."
No one knew.
And the flame?
Didn't seem to mind.
No one fed it.
No one shielded it.
Storms came. Winds howled.
Still it burned.
Not brightly.
Not with message.
Just… with presence.
One day, a girl named Isen climbed the tower out of curiosity.
She brought no offering.
She just wanted to see it up close.
When she reached the top, she asked:
"Why are you still here?"
The flame flickered.
Gently.
No glyphs.
No surge.
Just a quiet movement like breath before sleep.
Isen sat.
"Do you remember?"
The flame tilted slightly—like a nod lost in wind.
And Isen laughed.
"Me neither. I forget things all the time."
She visited every week after that.
Never asking it to speak.
Never asking it to remember.
Just sitting beside it—
as one forgotten thing to another.
One day, the flame did something new.
It shrank.
Not extinguished—
Just smaller.
Lighter.
And for the first time…
It rested.
Back in the Soulstream logs, a rare anomaly triggered:
🔹 Long-Burn Unanchored Flame Detected
🔹 Duration: 147 years (estimated)
🔹 Origin Purpose: Unknown
🔹 Final Event: Self-limiting without collapse
🔹 Classification: The Flame That Forgets Why It Was Lit
And the Fire That Waits whispered:
"Not all flames must carry purpose forever…"
"Some are allowed to forget—and be loved anyway."