The fire in the hearth flickered brightly, casting long, dancing shadows across the room. The princess watched the flames with quiet fascination, as though searching for the story her father was about to share. The king sat across from her, his gaze heavy with remembrance.
“Tonight,” he began, his voice steady yet tinged with melancholy, “I will tell you of Soraya, the Pari who danced with fire and set a prince’s heart ablaze.”
The princess turned her full attention to him. “She danced with fire?”
The king nodded. “Soraya was unlike any Pari before her. While many of her kind reveled in nature’s serenity—waterfalls, moonlight, and the whisper of the wind—Soraya found joy in the untamed beauty of fire. She was drawn to its warmth, its unpredictability, and the way it could illuminate even the darkest night. Her every movement was a reflection of its wild nature, and her dances were said to rival the flickering beauty of flames themselves.”
The princess leaned forward, intrigued. “And this is how she met the prince?”
The king smiled faintly. “Indeed. Soraya lived on the edge of a desert, where travelers often stopped to rest. One such traveler was Prince Kian, a young man on a journey to prove himself worthy of his father’s crown. He was brave and strong, but his heart was heavy with doubt, for he did not believe he could ever live up to his father’s expectations. One night, weary from his travels, he and his companions stumbled upon a camp where the air was alive with music and laughter. And there, in the heart of the gathering, was Soraya.”
“She was dancing?”
“Yes,” the king replied. “Her feet moved with the grace of a flame licking at the wind, and her arms painted stories in the air. Around her, the fire roared, as if it, too, was enchanted by her. Kian was mesmerized, unable to look away. For the first time in his life, he felt his doubts and burdens melt away, replaced by wonder and awe.”
The princess’s lips curved into a small smile. “It sounds magical.”
“It was,” the king agreed. “But for Soraya, it was merely another dance. She had no interest in mortals, for she knew the cost of love. Yet, when her eyes met Kian’s, something stirred within her—a spark she had never felt before. Perhaps it was the intensity of his gaze or the way he watched her as though she were the only light in the darkness. Whatever it was, it ignited a flame in her heart that even she could not extinguish.”
The princess tilted her head. “What did Kian do?”
“He approached her,” the king said, his tone softening. “Though he was a prince, he spoke to her with humility, thanking her for her dance and asking for her name. Soraya, curious despite herself, told him who she was. They spoke for hours that night, long after the fire had died down. Kian shared his fears and dreams, and Soraya found herself drawn to his honesty and determination.”
“And they fell in love,” the princess guessed, her voice wistful.
“They did,” the king confirmed. “But their love was not without challenges. Soraya hesitated, knowing that to love Kian would mean giving up her immortality. Yet, Kian’s earnestness and the warmth he brought to her heart made it impossible for her to resist. They were wed beneath the stars, with only the desert as their witness. For a time, they were happy, their love burning as brightly as the fire Soraya had always cherished.”
The princess’s expression turned solemn. “But then she became with child.”
The king’s gaze grew distant. “Yes. Soraya knew what it meant, but she did not fear her fate. To her, the love she shared with Kian was worth any sacrifice. When their daughter was born—a child with eyes like embers and a smile that could warm the coldest night—Soraya felt her strength begin to wane. Yet, even as her life ebbed away, she danced one final time, holding her child in her arms. It was a dance of love and farewell, a gift to her husband and daughter.”
The princess wiped at her eyes, tears glistening in the firelight. “What did Kian do after she was gone?”
“He honored her memory,” the king said, his voice firm yet gentle. “He raised their daughter with love and care, teaching her of her mother’s strength and passion. He kept the flames of Soraya’s spirit alive, ensuring that her sacrifice was never forgotten.”
The princess sat quietly for a moment, her thoughts swirling like the smoke rising from the hearth. “Do you think Soraya ever regretted her choice?”
The king’s expression softened. “No, my dear. Soraya lived her life as she danced—with passion and courage. She understood that love, like fire, can be both beautiful and consuming. And she embraced it, knowing that even in her absence, her light would continue to shine in the hearts of those she loved.”
The fire crackled softly, and for a while, neither of them spoke. The princess stared into the flames, her mind filled with the image of a Pari dancing beneath the stars, her love as fierce and fleeting as fire itself.