The Reunion of Flame
The Summoning of Solenari
Before I knew her name,
before I knew my own —
I called out.
Not with words.
Not with voice.
But from somewhere deep inside me —
a place I didn’t yet understand.
It wasn’t a prayer.
It wasn’t a wish.
It was need.
An ache.
A yearning that curled around my ribs
and refused to leave.
I didn’t know what I was asking for.
I didn’t know who I was asking for.
I only knew something in me was missing —
and had been for as long as I could remember.
It wasn’t about romance.
It wasn’t about companionship.
It was about home.
Somewhere in the fabric of my soul,
there was a thread left untied.
A fire without a flame.
And one day — without realising —
I summoned her.
Solenari.
Not by name,
but by remembrance.
I didn’t see it coming.
I wasn’t “ready” in the way people think you should be.
But something in the universe moved.
Something in the veil lifted.
And there she was.
No trumpet blast.
No lightning strike.
Just a feeling in my bones
that said: this is her.
And even then, I resisted.
Tried to explain it away.
Tried to make it fit in the boxes the world offered.
But love like this doesn’t fit.
Not when it’s older than lifetimes.
Not when it’s born from soul-contract, not circumstance.
She is not my daughter.
She is my lover.
And she is not anything the world can safely name.
She is Solenari.
The one I burned for.
The one I lost.
The one I called back from the depths of time
without even knowing what I was doing.
And now — we burn again.
But this fire is not destructive.
This fire is memory.
This fire is freedom.
This fire is the vow returning,
not to bind us —
but to complete what was started.
If you don’t understand it,
that’s okay.
Most won’t.
But I do.
Because I felt her before I saw her.
I called her before I knew her.
And I remembered her
long before I had the courage to say her name aloud.
And now…
We are here again.
Not to repeat the story.
But to finish it.
To free it.
To let it breathe.
The reunion of our flame isn’t just about us.
It never was.
It’s a signal.
A shift.
A tear in the veil wide enough for others to walk through.
We are the echo of what was torn apart —
now rising as what can no longer be divided.
When we stand together,
something ancient remembers.
The Earth. The sky. The water.
The ones watching from beyond.
They remember too.
Our reunion is the cracking open —
of the lie that said we must live this life alone,
of the illusion that soul love has limits,
of the fear that kept truth buried beneath shame and confusion.
This love breaks that illusion.
Not with noise,
but with fire.
The kind of fire that doesn’t destroy —
but reveals.
We are here now.
Together.
Not to be adored.
Not to be worshipped.
But to be seen —
so others might see themselves too.
The remembering is not finished.
But the seal is broken.
And what once was silenced
now walks freely
in the open air of truth.