That night, I placed the lantern beside my bed.
Its soft glow filled the room like moonlight trapped in a jar.
As the flame flickered,
a pattern of shadows formed on the wall
lines, curves, and shapes that looked strangely intentional.
I sat up.It wasn't random.
The shadows were forming symbols…
ancient-looking marks that felt like part of a forgotten language.
I leaned closer.One symbol repeated again and again:
a circle with a line through it.
Suddenly, the lantern flickered violently.and a faint whisper escaped its flame.A real whisper.A voice.Not loud, not clear,
but unmistakably the old man's.
Find the circle…where the river ends…
I froze.Was the lantern communicating with me?
Or… had the old man left his final message inside it?
Either way, it was clear.
My next destination was the place
where the river ends.
The next morning, I began my journey.
The river flowed across the village,but no one ever mentioned where it ended.Some said it disappeared underground.
Others believed it connected to an ancient lake.
But no one truly knew.With the lantern in my bag,I followed the riverbank for hours.The path grew rougher,the trees denser,the sound of water louder.Finally, after what felt like miles,
the river widened into a vast circular lake
calm, silent, and surrounded by old stones.
A circle.Just like the symbol from the lantern.
At the center of the lake stood a small stone platform,
half-buried, weathered by time.This was it.The place the lantern whisper had pointed me toward.
But how was I supposed to reach it?
As I searched for a way across,
the lantern inside my bag began to glow brightly
brighter than ever before.
And then something unbelievable happened.
The water near the shore began to ripple,
and a narrow path of stones slowly rose from beneath the surface.
A path leading straight to the platform.
I swallowed hard.
The old man had left more than memories.
He had left a trail.
Step by step, I walked across the stone path.
The lake was silent,so silent that even my heartbeat felt loud.
When I reached the stone platform,
I noticed engravings carved into the surface.
Symbols.The same ones from the lantern's light.
In the center of the platform was a circular indentation
the exact size of the lantern.My hands shook as I placed it there.
The moment the lantern touched the stone,
its flame burst upward. not violently, but beautifully,
like a glowing pillar of memory.
The symbols around me lit up one by one,
forming a ring of golden light.And then…I heard voices.Not one.
Not two.But thousands.Men, women, children
voices from different times,different lives,all speaking at once.
They weren't frightening.Instead, they were warm, familiar…
as if every story ever lived was echoing around me.
A final whisper rose above the others:
You have reached the circle.Now you must decide
Will you carry these stories forward…or leave them in silence?
The light dimmed,
but the air around me remained heavy with meaning.
This was more than a journey.
It was an inheritance.
A role the old man had chosen for me,
though I still didn't know why.But one thing was clear:
The road ahead was no longer the same road I started on.
It was something new.Something waiting to be written
by me.The echoes faded slowly,
leaving behind a silence that felt alive
as if the lake itself was waiting for my answer.
Carry the stories forward?Or leave them here in silence?
I didn't understand fully what the choice meant.
But deep inside, I felt something shift…
as though the old man had passed a weight into my hands.
As I stood on the stone platform,the lantern's flame calmed,
glowing gently like a breathing heart.Then the same whisper returned:
Every life becomes a story.
But only a few choose to protect them.A Keeper.
Was that what I was supposed to become?
I looked at the lantern.its scratches, its age, its warmth
and something changed inside me.
I will carry the stories, I whispered.
If that is what I'm meant to do…
I accept it.The lake responded instantly.
A ring of ripples expanded outward,as if acknowledging my answer.
The lantern's flame brightened,
and the symbols around the platform
glowed like stars on ancient stone.For the first time since meeting the old man,I felt I was on the right path.
The path he wanted me to walk.
As I stepped off the stone platform
and returned along the raised stone path.
the sky suddenly darkened.Clouds churned above the lake,
twisting like a storm made of shadows.The lantern in my hand vibrated
softly at first,then violently.Before I could react,
a sudden blast of wind tore across the water.
And the memories came.Not mine.Not the old man's.
But thousands of memories
faces of strangers,their joys, their failures,
their cries, their dreams.
I staggered, holding my head.
Every memory felt like a drop of rain
falling directly into my mind.
Some were bright
first loves, childhood laughter, fulfilled wishes.
Some were dark
heartache, death, betrayal, loneliness.The storm showed no mercy.
I collapsed to my knees
as a rush of emotions tore through me.
Was this what it meant
to carry the stories of others?
Was this what the old man endured
before passing the lantern to me?I pressed my hands to the earth
and screamed as the storm swallowed me whole.
And then.Just as suddenly as it began,
it ended.The sky cleared.The lake returned to calm.The lantern stopped shaking.I took a long breath.The storm had tested me…
and I had survived.
Exhausted, I reached the riverbank
and collapsed beneath a large tree.
The lantern flickered softly beside me,
its flame smaller but steadier
as if it too needed time to recover.As I rested,a memory surfaced in my mind.Not one of the storm's visions.Not a stranger's story.
But the old man's voice…clearer than ever before.
It wasn't a memory I had lived.It was one he had left behind.
In the memory,the old man stood at the edge of this very lake,
younger, stronger,holding the lantern the same way I held it now.
He looked afraid.Not of death.Not of destiny.
But of the burden
the weight of thousands of lives
pressing against his heart.And then he spoke,
his voice calm despite the fear inside him:
Every Keeper must learn one truth:
You do not carry the stories to suffer.You carry them…
so others don't have to walk alone.
The memory faded.I opened my eyes.
For the first time,I understood why he had chosen me.Not because I was special.Not because I was different.
But because I was willing to listen.
I stood up slowly.The road ahead was uncertain,
filled with secrets I hadn't yet uncovered.
But now I carried the lantern by choice.not fear,
not confusion.Purpose.The old man had walked this road alone.
But I would not.I had the stories.I had the lantern.
And I had a destiny that was finally beginning to reveal itself.
The next chapter of my journey
was waiting beyond the forest line.
So I took my first step.