The Witch’s Lantern

Book 1: The Lantern Awakens

Elira didn’t sleep that night.

Not that she could.

After returning from the forest, her heart still pounded with images of glowing runes, whispering shadows, and Veylan’s fire sweeping through the trees. She lay in her bed, staring at the thatched ceiling, the shard of light he’d given her tucked tightly in her palm. It was warm. Alive.

And it pulsed like a heartbeat.

She kept hearing his voice in her mind:

“You are the Lantern Heir… the veil is thinning.”

But what did that even mean?

Her family? Her bloodline? Elaria the First? She had never even heard that name before. No one in Ember Hollow had ever mentioned ancient witches or magical ancestors. Her mother taught herb lore and knitting. Her father bred goats and told jokes at the tavern. Where did she fit in any of this?

And what now? Veylan had vanished into the woods after the fire, with only a whispered promise:

“The lantern will call you again, soon. Be ready.”

Morning broke with the slow chirp of sparrows and the scent of honeybread from the baker’s cart. Elira rose like a ghost, washed quickly, and dressed in her usual moss-green tunic and boots—though now they felt like someone else’s clothes.

Downstairs, her mother hummed a tune as she stirred something in a pot. Her father was patching a fishing net by the hearth.

“Elira,” he said cheerfully. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

She blinked. “Didn’t sleep well.”

“Too many apples again?” her mother teased.

Elira forced a smile and took a seat. Everything looked the same—but it all felt wrong. Like the village was a painting, and someone had smudged the edges.

“I think I’ll go out for a walk,” she said.

Her mother nodded absently. “Be back before dark. Old widow Renna saw something strange in the sky last night. Said it looked like a fire snake over the forest. Probably just mist, but still—stay out of the woods.”

Elira paused mid-step.

Fire snake?

She didn’t answer, just grabbed her cloak and stepped out into the morning light.

Kael was waiting at their usual spot: the crumbling watchtower just beyond the western ridge. He sat cross-legged on the stone floor, tossing pebbles and looking bored. When he saw her, his eyes lit up.

“You look like someone who found a cursed treasure,” he said.

Elira sat beside him. “Not cursed. Just… old. And powerful.”

Kael raised an eyebrow. “So it’s all real? The lantern? The shadow things? The creepy man with the crystal hand?”

She nodded. “And there’s more. A lot more.”

She told him everything—about the underground passage, the runes, the images of her ancestor, and the creatures trying to break through the seals.

Kael didn’t interrupt. For once, he looked deadly serious.

“Why you?” he asked finally.

Elira held out her hand and showed him the shard. It shimmered softly, gold and violet hues shifting like fire.

“Because it chose me,” she said.

Kael whistled. “So… what now?”

Before she could answer, the crystal flared.

And from nowhere, a voice whispered:

“Lantern Heir… the second seal stirs.”

Elira’s breath caught.

Kael scrambled back. “Did that thing just talk?”

Elira nodded. “It’s happening again.”

The shard pulsed faster. The sky above the forest darkened as if a shadow passed across the sun. And from deep in the woods came a low, distant hum.

“Come on,” Elira said, already on her feet. “We have to go.”

Kael hesitated. “Into the haunted forest? With shadow monsters?”

“You said you wanted to see the truth.”

He groaned. “Remind me to punch my past self.”

They reached the edge of the forest by midday. The trees stood like sentinels, dark and unmoving. The path Elira had followed before—marked by faint glows and whispering leaves—was gone.

Kael stepped forward, hesitant. “So… how do we get in?”

Elira closed her eyes. The shard in her palm glowed warmer, and in her mind, she saw a flicker—an owl-shaped rock, a fallen birch, a stream of silver water.

She opened her eyes. “That way.”

As they walked, the air grew colder, the light dimmer. Birds stopped singing. Leaves crunched underfoot like bones.

Then they saw it.

A clearing. At its center: a circle of stones, ancient and moss-covered, forming a perfect ring. In the center hovered a second lantern—this one cracked, flickering wildly with purple fire. It swayed back and forth on an invisible current.

And beneath it, lying in the circle, was a body.

Kael cursed. “Is that—?”

“Someone’s here,” Elira whispered.

They crept closer. The figure on the ground was a girl—maybe sixteen—her cloak torn, her arm bent at an odd angle. She looked pale, like she had been drained of color.

“She’s alive!” Kael said, kneeling.

But just then, the lantern above flared.

The fire turned black.

From the surrounding trees came a hiss.

Then another.

Then dozens.

Figures emerged—wraiths formed of smoke and bone, with empty eyes and jagged teeth. They moved like ink in water, circling the stone ring but unable to cross it.

Kael scrambled back. “What do we do?!”

Elira stepped into the ring.

As her foot crossed the boundary, the shard in her palm ignited. Light poured from her hand like liquid sun, forming a line around the circle. The wraiths shrieked and drew back.

The lantern above her shook violently.

And then it spoke:

“To claim the second flame, the heir must choose.”

“One soul must stay. One soul must go.”

“What does that mean?” Elira cried.

Kael grabbed her arm. “We can’t just leave her!”

“I know!”

The voice came again, colder this time:

“The price must be paid. The seal demands it.”

Suddenly, the injured girl opened her eyes. They were gold. The same gold as the shard in Elira’s hand.

“She’s one of us,” Elira whispered. “She’s a Lantern bearer too.”

The girl coughed weakly. “Take it… take the flame… I can’t hold it.”

“No!” Elira said. “There has to be another way!”

But the lantern flared again.

And then—light exploded.

Elira was standing in a void.

No forest. No Kael. No girl.

Just her. And the lantern.

It hovered before her, whole now, burning bright with flame.

“You are not ready,” it said, in a voice that felt like her own. “But the world will not wait. The Shadow Court grows bolder. The seals weaken.”

Elira’s voice shook. “Why me?”

“Because your blood remembers. Because your soul holds light. And because no one else can.”

The lantern floated toward her. “Take the second flame. Light the path.”

She reached out.

Her fingers touched the flame—and pain seared through her.

Flashes of memory not her own: battles, betrayal, a great firestorm. A woman in white robes standing before a mountain of corpses, holding a lantern that wept golden tears.

And then—darkness.

She woke with a gasp.

Kael was beside her, clutching her shoulder. “Elira! You vanished! That girl—she’s gone!”

The stone circle was empty. The wraiths, gone. The lantern, gone.

But in Elira’s hand, the shard had changed. It now held two lights, swirling together—gold and purple.

“She gave me her flame,” Elira whispered. “She sacrificed herself.”

Kael looked shaken. “So what happens now?”

Elira stood slowly. “The second seal is broken. Three more remain.”

They left the clearing in silence.

That night, back in her room, Elira lit a candle and stared into the flame.

Each seal would bring more danger. More choices. More pain.

But the path was clear now.

She was the Lantern Heir.

And the war had already begun.

Far away, across the sea of ash and bone, a great black citadel stirred. A hooded figure sat upon a throne of thorns and whispered into the void:

“She has taken the second flame. The hunt begins.”

End of Episode 2