The Flickering Vision

One cold autumn evening, as the village of Eldermist prepared for the biting chill of winter, Hestia Hearth sat quietly by her fire, the familiar crackle of the flames her only companion. The twilight sky had darkened early, and the wind howled through the trees, carrying the scent of burning pinewood through the air. Inside her small cottage, however, it was warm. Always warm.Hestia had lived at the edge of the village for as long as she could remember, in the same stone-walled home that her grandmother had once called her own. There, she tended the hearth with care, as if the fire were a living being she had to nurture. The fire was everything to her. In it, she found comfort, protection, and at times, something far more mysterious—a connection to forces older than the village itself.

The villagers had always spoken of Hestia in hushed tones. They knew there was something different about her, though no one could say exactly what. There was an energy about her, a warmth that radiated from her, as if the flames she tended had taken root inside her very soul. Her hands were always warm, glowing faintly when they brushed too close to the hearth, and sometimes—only when she was alone—she would see the flames respond to her moods, rising and falling with the rhythm of her heart. But this evening, as she added a fresh log to the fire, the flames seemed different. They didn't dance with their usual carefree joy. Instead, they crackled more sharply, as though the air around them had grown thick with some unseen force. Hestia sat back, watching the way the fire flickered, the light casting strange shadows on the walls of the small room.She stared deeper into the hearth, mesmerized by the way the flames twisted and swayed, but then—something shifted. The fire no longer simply crackled. It began to take shape. At first, it was subtle, a slight bend in the flames that formed a vague outline. But within moments, the shape became clearer, sharper. Hestia's breath caught in her throat. In the heart of the fire stood a figure—a glowing, spectral silhouette cloaked in shadow, its eyes burning like coals. The light from the flames illuminated its form in an eerie, unnatural way, and yet, it was undeniably there, watching her. Hestia leaned forward, her heart pounding. She could hardly breathe. The figure's presence filled the room, making the warmth of the fire feel oppressive. Her fingers trembled as they hovered near the hearth. The flames licked at her hand, but she barely noticed the heat. She couldn't tear her gaze away from the figure.

Then, it spoke.

"Hestia Hearth…"

The voice was low, crackling like embers in a dying fire. It wasn't a sound meant for human ears; it was something ancient, something that felt like it came from the heart of the earth itself. Hestia's name hung in the air, the words heavy with a meaning she couldn't yet understand. Her skin prickled, and for the first time in years, she felt a shiver run down her spine. The figure in the flames tilted its head slightly, as though studying her. It was neither threatening nor comforting, but something in its presence sent a wave of cold fear through her.

"What… what are you?"

Hestia whispered, her voice barely audible above the crackle of the fire. The figure did not answer. Instead, the flames flickered, and for a brief moment, she thought she saw its eyes flare brighter, burning hotter. Then, just as quickly as it had appeared, the figure dissolved into the fire, the flames returning to their usual, familiar dance. Hestia sat back, her chest heaving with the weight of her quickened breath. Her hands fell into her lap, and she stared into the fire, trying to make sense of what she had just seen. But the figure was gone. The flames were once again nothing more than the soft, warm light she had always known. Still, she could not forget the sound of her name whispered in that strange, crackling voice. It echoed in her mind long after the flames had calmed, the warning in its tone clear but incomprehensible. For the first time in years, the fire in her hearth felt less like a companion and more like something else—something watching her, waiting for her to understand its message.

The next morning, Hestia woke with a start. The vision of the night before had followed her into her dreams, vivid and unnerving. The figure had been there too, only this time its voice had been louder, more insistent, though the words remained a mystery.

She rose from her bed, the early morning light filtering in through the thin curtains, and went to the hearth, half expecting to see the flames already stirring. But the fire had died down during the night, leaving only a few glowing embers in the ashes. For a long moment, she stood there, staring at the remains of the fire, as if waiting for the figure to reappear. It didn't. But the unease lingered.Hestia busied herself with the morning chores, trying to shake the feeling of the figure's presence. She swept the floor, collected fresh herbs from the small garden outside, and checked on the firewood pile. But no matter how hard she tried, the image of the glowing figure wouldn't leave her mind. As she worked, questions gnawed at her. What had the figure wanted? Was it a warning? A plea for help? Was it connected to the hearth fires she had tended all her life? She had always known there was something deeper, something older in the flames, but this—this was something beyond her understanding.

The villagers had always turned to her when their fires wouldn't burn, when illness swept through, or when they needed protection from the harsh winters. They trusted her with their homes, their hearths, and their warmth. But this was different. This was no simple fire problem she could fix with a wave of her hand.

By the time the sun had risen fully, casting its pale autumn light over the village, Hestia had made up her mind. She couldn't ignore what had happened. The figure in the flames had spoken her name, and she had felt its power, its urgency.

Whatever it was, whatever the vision meant—it had come for her.

And she would have to find out why.