I, the loyal Ghull of the Asaha, am a creature of fire.

  Fire is not ordinary; not all creatures are fortunate to be born from fire.

  Fire conveys gracefully; not all forces can flow through the doors of the universe.

  Fire is not like mud, stuck in the realms of earth and blood.

  Fire is abundant, fire is varied.

  A fire burns on the stove baking a bread,

  A fire burns in the eyes of the woman kneading the bread.

  A fire burns in the heart of the one in red.

  A fire burns in me, do not underestimate…

  Fire has many forms of presence in the universe. Some require special elements to burn, like oxygen. Some need the essence of a creature. Others require the energy of a feeling. Unlike mud, fire exists everywhere in the universe.

  Fire isn’t affected by the cruelty of time. For that, I am grateful to be of fire. But even a creature of fire cannot withstand the might of time. For that time is a ruthless king, it will eventually prevail. I, too, will eventually alter and morph.

  The Ghull within me has lived long and seen much. Through the desires of the Asaha, the Ghull sought many, sought and found, sometimes lost. The Ghull tried and searched. For that the creatures of mud are fragile, the Ghull touched them delicately, yet intensely.

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  I, the loyal Ghull of the Asaha, was kneaded with the history of emotions in the realm of mud. I was punished when I saw the fire in the queen's heart, a fire that lusted for my existence and enslaved my core to her desire. I was punished when my loneliness collided with her yearning and become one to combust unexpectedly. For no creature could see the twists in the flow of the future with certainty, my enslavement occurred miraculously. Unfortunately, my punishment welcomed brutally when her death arrived unfairly.

  History continued, the years orbiting the sun, time spiraling around the stars, and the planets slowly aging. The Asaha kept trying. For some creatures of mud, we chose to enhance their emotions; for others, we chose to weaken them.

  Once, a vulnerable civilization had a powerful chief. His daughter was the great-grandmother of Ava’s grandmother, a thousand generations ago. She was the greatest light healer on Earth in a thousand generations. Puduhepa was her name. She led her father’s kingdom to a new home through the portal she created with the Ghull.

  Sadly, her people did not survive in their new home. They soon vanished, too sad to live, too lazy to feed, too careless to breed. Though the people did not endure, the portal Puduhepa of the Hittites opened is the only one that survived the cruelty of time. For that her light was strong, and her light kept the darkness of the portal just as strong. The only surviving portal on Earth, in Cappadocia, is the one that holds the light of Puduhepa.

  Thousands of years later, a new civilization discovered the ancient portal on their new home planet, which they called “Ars Pheria.” In the end, the Romans found a way to revert and reconnect with their true nature. Once more, the river flowed and found its bed. That was when it became time for the Asaha to wait and watch where the river would end. Time to watch the end.

  I lived for so long lonely and solitarily.

  I would risk my entire existence for this last chance willingly,

  For that the lonesome fire in me needed a meaning immensely,

  I shall enable a union of three, to conceive a creature uniquely…