The sun hadn't risen in centuries, but that morning, the horizon was painted in a strange half-light, the reflection of the Beacon Towers far to the east. It gave the illusion of dawn, though everyone knew it was just another borrowed day.
Kaelen stood at the edge of the wreckage, pack slung over one shoulder. Aethryn waited beside him, lantern hanging from his belt, its flame burning steady even in the cold wind.
"Ready?" Aethryn asked, voice low but carrying.
Kaelen didn't look back. "If I look again, I'll stay."
The old Lightkeeper studied him for a beat before nodding. "Then we walk."
They moved in silence at first, boots crunching over frost-tipped grass and the shards of shattered lamp glass scattered along the path out of the Outer Ring. The road ahead wound between dark hills, each crowned with a lone lantern post swaying in the wind. Most were unlit.
"Why are they out?" Kaelen asked after an hour of walking. "Aren't they supposed to be kept burning?"
Aethryn's jaw tightened. "Fuel shortages. Too many Beacon Towers are failing at once. The Order's stretched thin."
Kaelen stared at the nearest dark post. The metal was warped, claw marks dug deep into the pole. The sight made his hand tighten unconsciously on the strap of his pack.
They crested a ridge, and the world opened before them. In the far distance, a silver line shimmered faintly in the gloom, the Glowline, a barrier of light thrown up by the Capital's towers. Between here and there stretched a patchwork of scattered farms, crumbling villages, and wide fields gone fallow.
Kaelen had never seen so much land. His home had been tucked in a valley, its world bounded by forest and the edge of the Gloom.
"You'll see worse before we reach the Capital," Aethryn said, catching his expression. "The Gloom takes more than lives. It takes color. Memory. Even hope if you let it."
"That supposed to be encouragement?"
"Supposed to be truth."
They made camp at a roadside watchpost, a squat stone building with half a roof and a cold lantern cradle in the center. Aethryn's lantern lit the place with warm, steady light, but outside, the darkness pressed close.
Kaelen sat cross-legged, staring at the flame. "You knew to come to my village," he said finally. "How?"
"I felt it." Aethryn's gaze didn't waver from the shadows beyond the door. "When a Lantern flares hard enough, it's like a bell ringing in the dark. Every Lightkeeper for miles can hear it. Every Gloom horror too."
Kaelen swallowed. "So… they came for me."
"They came for your light."
The words landed heavy between them.
The wind outside shifted. It wasn't loud, but Kaelen felt it — a subtle pull against his chest, like the air had turned to water and something in it was swimming toward him.
Aethryn's head snapped toward the doorway. "Stay inside."
"What is it?"
"Not something you're ready for." He moved to the entrance, unclipping the lantern from his belt. The flame swelled at his touch, the glass casting long, sharp shadows across the watchpost walls.
Kaelen edged closer, ignoring the warning. Beyond the threshold, the world had gone utterly still. No wind, no crickets, just a blackness that seemed thicker than the night sky.
Then came the sound, slow, deliberate footsteps in the grass. Not heavy. Not light. Just… certain.
Aethryn lifted his lantern high. The light carved a path into the dark, and something moved at the edge of it, tall, wrong, its joints bending too far in the wrong direction. Its skin drank the light, leaving only a glimmer where eyes should be.
It didn't lunge. It didn't need to. The shadows around the watchpost began to bleed inward, tendrils curling like smoke seeking cracks in the stone.
Aethryn's voice was calm but edged with steel. "They like the weak spots. Corners. Blind angles."
The tendrils slipped closer to the unlit lantern cradle at the center of the watchpost. Kaelen's breath quickened. Without thinking, he stepped toward it, his hand brushing the cold metal rim. The moment his skin made contact, the cradle ignited, not with a spark, but with a sudden, blinding flare of gold.
The tendrils recoiled as if burned. Outside, the figure hissed, an awful, wet sound, and withdrew into the darkness.
Aethryn turned sharply, his eyes on the still-burning cradle flame. "…You lit that without fuel."
Kaelen looked at his hand, heat still radiating from his palm. "I just… didn't want it to go out."
"That," Aethryn said slowly, "is exactly why you need training. Because the Gloom just learned something about you."
He let the words hang there, heavy and inescapable, before lowering his lantern and stepping back inside.
Outside, the night seemed quieter. But Kaelen couldn't shake the sense that whatever was out there was still watching, and now it knew his light could burn on its own.