The Lantern of Ashen Vale

The Lantern of Ashen Vale

The forest was silent, save for the crunch of dead leaves under Rayne’s boots. Shadows danced between the trees, shifting like ghosts under the pale light of the crescent moon. He pulled his cloak tighter, his breath misting in the cold air, and tightened his grip on the iron lantern hanging from his hand. The flame inside burned low, casting an amber glow that barely pierced the darkness.

He was looking for her—Nia. His sister.

She’d vanished two weeks ago, slipping into the forest with nothing more than the clothes on her back and a whispered promise that she’d return. She hadn’t. No one who wandered into Ashen Vale ever did.

“Rayne, don’t be a fool,” the villagers had warned. “The forest isn’t meant for the living. It’s cursed.”

But curses didn’t matter. Not to him. Not when she was all he had left.

The trees loomed taller as Rayne ventured deeper, their skeletal branches clawing at the sky. He’d brought supplies—bread, dried meat, a flask of water—but it had been hours since he’d last eaten. The hunger gnawed at him, but fear gnawed harder. The deeper he went, the more the air seemed to thicken, heavy with an unnatural stillness.

“Nia,” he called, his voice muffled by the forest. “Can you hear me?”

No answer. Only the whisper of wind through the branches.

The villagers had spoken of strange things in the forest—lights that moved like will-o’-the-wisps, whispers that called your name, shadows that weren’t your own. Rayne had dismissed their stories as superstition. Now, he wasn’t so sure.

The flame in his lantern flickered, dimming for a moment before surging back to life. Rayne frowned, holding it up. The light wavered, but it wasn’t the wind. The flame leaned, pulling toward the right, as if drawn by an unseen force.

He hesitated. The stories warned of spirits luring travelers to their doom. But what choice did he have? If this was a sign, it might lead him to her.

Rayne turned, following the pull of the flame.

The trees grew denser, the path narrowing until it was barely a trail at all. Thorns snagged at his cloak, and roots twisted underfoot, eager to trip him. The lantern’s flame burned steady, leading him deeper into the Vale.

“Nia,” he called again, louder this time.

Still nothing.

Then, faintly, he heard it: a voice. A single note, sweet and clear, drifting through the trees. It wasn’t words, but it was enough to send a shiver down his spine.

He froze, his heart hammering. “Nia?”

The note came again, closer this time. A melody, haunting and fragile, like the song of a bird that didn’t belong to this world. Rayne tightened his grip on the lantern and moved toward the sound.

The clearing appeared suddenly, the trees parting like curtains to reveal a circle of stone ruins. In the center stood a pool of water, its surface glassy and still. The moonlight reflected off it, creating an ethereal glow that illuminated the crumbling arches and moss-covered stones.

And there she was.

Nia stood by the pool, her back to him, her white dress billowing in a breeze that didn’t exist. Her hair, dark and wild, cascaded down her back, and her bare feet barely seemed to touch the ground.

“Nia!” Rayne cried, rushing toward her.

She turned, slowly, her face pale and expressionless. Her eyes, once full of life, were empty now, dark as the depths of the pool. When she spoke, her voice was hollow, distant.

“Rayne. You shouldn’t have come.”

He stopped short, his chest tightening. “Nia, what happened to you? Why did you leave?”

She didn’t answer. Her gaze flicked to the lantern in his hand, and for the briefest moment, something like fear crossed her face.

“You need to go,” she said. “The forest doesn’t let go of what it claims.”

“I’m not leaving without you.” Rayne stepped closer, his voice firm despite the fear rising in his throat. “You’re my sister. We’ll leave together.”

“You don’t understand.” Her voice wavered, and her hands clenched into fists. “It’s too late for me.”

“No.” He shook his head, stepping forward again. “Whatever this is, we can fight it. You’re not alone.”

The lantern’s flame surged suddenly, brighter than before, casting long, flickering shadows across the clearing. Nia flinched, her hand flying to shield her eyes.

“Stop!” she cried. “Put it out!”

Rayne froze. “Nia, what’s wrong?”

Before she could answer, the pool began to ripple, the still surface breaking into concentric circles. A low hum filled the air, vibrating through Rayne’s bones. The ruins seemed to groan, the stones trembling as the hum grew louder.

Nia’s eyes widened in terror. “It’s coming.”

The water erupted.

A figure rose from the pool, shrouded in mist and shadow. Its form was indistinct, shifting like smoke, but its eyes burned with an unnatural light—two orbs of searing white that pierced the darkness. Its presence was suffocating, pressing down on Rayne like a weight.

“Nia,” the figure hissed, its voice like the scrape of metal on stone. “You belong to me.”

“No!” Rayne stepped between them, holding up the lantern as if it could shield him. “She’s coming with me.”

The figure’s gaze shifted to him, and its voice dripped with disdain. “A mortal dares to challenge me? You are nothing.”

The flame in the lantern flared, brighter than the moon itself, and the figure recoiled with a shriek. Its shadowy form flickered, struggling to hold its shape.

“Rayne, you have to leave!” Nia shouted, her voice desperate. “You can’t fight it!”

“I won’t leave you,” he said through gritted teeth.

The figure lunged, a tendril of shadow lashing out toward him. Rayne barely dodged, the force of the attack sending him stumbling. He swung the lantern, and the flame erupted in a burst of golden light. The shadow screeched, retreating.

The lantern’s flame dimmed, its glow flickering as if weakened. Rayne’s heart sank. Whatever power the lantern held, it wasn’t infinite.

“Rayne, listen to me!” Nia’s voice cut through the chaos. “The lantern—it’s the only thing keeping it at bay. But if it goes out…”

Her words trailed off, but the meaning was clear.

The shadow surged again, more desperate this time, its form growing larger and darker. Rayne held up the lantern, but the flame was faltering, shrinking with each second.

“Nia, what do I do?” he shouted.

She hesitated, her gaze flicking between him and the shadow. “You have to leave me. Take the lantern and go. It’s the only way.”

“No!” The word tore from him, raw and instinctive. “I won’t leave you!”

The shadow loomed closer, its tendrils reaching for them both. The lantern sputtered, the flame barely more than a spark now.

Rayne looked at Nia, her face pale but resolute. “I’m sorry,” he said softly.

Before she could protest, he hurled the lantern at the shadow. It shattered on impact, releasing a blinding burst of light that consumed the clearing. The shadow shrieked, its form dissolving into the air like smoke in the wind.

When the light faded, the ruins were silent once more. The pool was empty, its surface still.

But Nia was gone.

Rayne stumbled out of the forest at dawn, his hands bloodied and his heart heavy. The villagers were waiting, their faces pale with worry.

“Did you find her?” one of them asked.

Rayne didn’t answer. He couldn’t. All he had left was the memory of her voice, and the faint warmth of the lantern’s light, still lingering in his chest.

Somewhere, he hoped, Nia had found peace.