A long time ago, when people lived in peace, and the world still lived in people. In one of the caves, high in the mountains, a wise man made his home.
Because I wanted to see further and know more than others. And although his life was hard and lonely, he had a faithful brother - Fire, with whom he was born on the same day and which never left him, even in the most difficult moment. It happened that a person could not sleep at night for a long time, and then he shared his thoughts with the fire, and he, turning them into soot, gave them back to him. With soot, a man painted on the walls of the cave pictures of what he saw during the day, animals, birds, hunting plots. The fire with delight flared up brighter, looking at the drawings and then both felt warm and comfortable.
When a person fell asleep, Fire whispered warm words to him in gratitude.

Days passed, and the years took the hands of decades, lining up in centuries. It was getting colder and colder outside. The inhabitants of the valley spread out at the foot of the mountain had already ceased to warm fires, and soon they had completely forgotten how to make them. And then time turned into a dragon, and the fiery lie began to burn the souls of people, turning them into ice.
Only high in the mountains, where she could not fly on her wings, was the last light of hope still glowing.
The man did not even know about it, because the world below had long been forgotten and alien to him. He still went hunting in the evenings, and when the cold chilled him to the bone, he clasped his head up in his arms and looked at the sky, always thinking the same thing: “But billions of fires are burning there too!
But why are they so cold and do not warm me at all, how lonely! "And somewhere there, high, high, exactly the same person standing on the top of his mountain looked at his fire and thought about the same ...