The Lantern Keeper’s Last Lesson
🌙 The Lantern Keeper’s Last Lesson
The wind howled across the cliffside as Elias stumbled upon the old lighthouse, its flame still burning against the night.
An old man stood at the door, his hands wrapped around a brass lantern, eyes fixed on the dark horizon.
“You live here alone?” Elias asked, curious.
The man nodded slowly. “I’m waiting for a soul who got lost… two hundred years ago.”
Elias almost laughed, but something in the man’s voice kept him quiet. “You mean… a ghost?”
“A traveler,” the keeper said, lifting the lantern higher. “He promised to return when he found the answer to a question I asked him: What light do you carry when all others go out?”
The sea roared. Elias looked into the old man’s eyes and saw more than years—he saw centuries of watching, of waiting. “Do you think he’ll ever come back?”
The keeper smiled faintly. “He already has.”
Before Elias could ask, the man pressed the lantern into his hands. “The soul I was waiting for… was you.”
A sudden calm swept the air, and when Elias turned to speak again, the lighthouse was empty. Only the lantern glowed—warm, alive—guiding him toward a path he didn’t know he was seeking.
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