Ashes of Dharma

The world was still.

Not dead.

Not paused.

Balanced.

And for the first time in its history, nothing needed to be said.

But then…

a whisper.

It didn't echo from the mountains.

It didn't drop from the stars.

It rose from within.

From a newborn's breath.

Sharp.

Pure.

Unafraid.

A girl born in a village with no name.

Her first cry wasn't pain—it was recognition.

She opened her eyes, and the midwife gasped.

Not at power.

At clarity.

As if she remembered something before language.

And far away, an elder paused mid-step.

Meha.

She looked up.

Smiled.

"Another has arrived."

This girl would not carry fire.

She wouldn't need to.

She would walk in a world where breath was baseline.

Where truth wasn't taught—it was lived.

And what she would become?

No one knew.

Because this time, no god would interfere.

And no myth would shape her.

Only life.