They say the gods gave man fire.
A gift to light the dark, to warm the bones, and to keep the beasts away. We didn't realize something burned long before fire existed - it just got lost. Before fire taught us to survive, desire taught us to feel alive.
I was not looking for anything that day. Not warmth. Not food. Not meaning. The cliffs were jagged, the sky grey, and my only company was a sabertooth cub with more bite than anything else. I called him Fang - small, stubborn, and already too fierce for his own good.
We were alone. Barefoot and burnt by the world. No tribe. No fire. Just teeth, silence, and hunger.
But then came the song.
Not a voice - not at first. It began as a pull behind the ribs. Like my bones remembered something my mind had never known. A heat. A heartbeat that wasn't mine. Fang felt it too. His ears flattened, the fur on his neck raised. He growled like we were being hunted, but I was already moving forward.
We reached the cliff's edge just as the sea cracked open. There they were - three figures half shrouded in mist and moonlight, lounging on a rock that shouldn't have been there. Like it rose from the deep just for them,
The first one - I called her Veila - tilted her head like she was listening to a secret only the wind could hear. Her fingers played with strands of her sea soaked hair, twisting them absently, like each curl was a memory she wasn't ready to speak aloud. Her smile was a slow, knowing thing - like she'd watched me long before I arrived.
The second, Lyra, had a voice that dripped like honey over stone. Her hands moved like she was sculpting the air, painting promises I didn't understand. Every word from her mouth tasted like something lost - berries I hadn't eaten since boyhood, a fire I'd never lit, a name I'd never been given.
And then...her.
The third didn't sing. She just watched. Zevara, I named her. Trident in hand, scars on her collarbone like old lightning strikes. Her hair was darker than night and moved like the current. She was older than the others. She didn't need to speak to set me ablaze. One look and I forgot what cold was. Fang yowled beside me, low and pleading. His tail twitched, unsure whether to fight or flee. But I stepped forward.
Desire. That's the word I didn't have, but suddenly understood.
It wasn't soft. It was sharp. A hunger that made the hunt meaningless. A fever that burned deeper than fire ever could. And it wasn't just for her. It was for what she meant. Depth. Mystery. The promise of being seen - really seen.
I don't know how long I stood there, wind clawing at my back, the sea hissing below. Veila's gaze circled like a snare, Lyra's voice wove around my spine, and Zevara...she simply waited.
She knew I would jump. They all did.
The moment before I leapt, I felt Fang bite my heel - not hard, but desperate. He looked at me like I was about to vanish. Still, I jumped and Fang followed. The water didn't crash. It welcomed. Guiding us on to the rock that radiated heat. And somewhere in that warmth, a truth echoed louder than any flame I'd ever seen:
Before Fire, There Was Desire.
They will tell you I vanished. That I disappeared chasing shadows and songs. But I know the truth.
I was found - by something older than fire, deeper than fear. And Fang? He stayed with me. Still does.
So if you ever find yourself near the ocean, and the tide feels too still - Listen.
The sea still sings in threes. The song of desire.