She had chosen the fire altar, her self-respect before her father's pride. The mute spectators saw her walk up to the Havan Kund, in her fury, as her father ignorantly continued to hurl abuses at the one who remained in her heart. The greatest of the men was scared by the hurt in her eyes. Her black hair darkening the day as it flew in the gust of wind, her red vermilion as powerful as a thousand Suns, she had smiled at the crowd sarcastically. Cursed them all for their silence. And she had for once thought of him. The one who was part of her soul. How will he survive? Her death would devastate him. But her self-respect didn't let her love come in the way. Her soul was now impure with the insults her father had hurled at him. This soul deserved no life.
So before jumping into the altar, she had stared up towards the North. Towards Home. And she made a promise.
In another life. In another time. Perhaps. But she will always come back. To him. For him. Because she would always be Shiva's Sati. In this life, next and forever. In any form or situation. Love, that attached their souls, was timeless.