The road ahead was shrouded in early autumn mist. Leaves clung to branches in fiery orange and deep red, some falling to the path as if carried by invisible hands. Eldric's boots crunched over the crisp carpet of foliage. The lanterns glimmered like steady stars, their amber light flickering in the gentle wind.
He had walked this stretch for centuries, through spring floods that turned Hollowfen's marshes to rivers, through summer festivals that spilled laughter into the night, through winter snows that buried lanterns under heavy white blankets. Each season left its mark on the road, yet the path itself endured and so did he.
By the edge of Brindleford, a group of villagers were gathering firewood. Eldric approached quietly.
"Evening, Keeper." one of the men called, dropping a bundle of sticks. "Thought you might pass by before nightfall."
Eldric nodded.
"The lanterns must be ready before the first travelers set out."
An older woman lifted her gaze from a basket of apples.
"You've been walking these roads so long... I sometimes forget there was a time before you." she said softly.
Eldric smiled faintly.
"There was a time before and there will be a time after. But for now, the road is our concern."
The villagers glanced at each other, nodding, then returned to their work. Eldric paused by the nearest lantern, checking its wick. The glass was clean, the flame steady. Centuries of tending had taught him to notice the smallest tremor in a lamp, the faintest shadow at its edges.
Callen emerged from the fields, his wooden lantern swinging lightly in one hand. He followed Eldric silently, careful not to intrude.
"You're always so quiet." the boy whispered. "Even with people around."
Eldric glanced down, golden eyes calm.
"The quiet allows me to see and to hear. The road speaks in ways that words cannot."
Callen watched him adjust the flame of a lamp, oiling the wick with careful precision.
"Does it ever get tiring? All the walking?"
"Sometimes." Eldric admitted. "But the road and its lanterns have a rhythm older than any one of us. Once you learn it, you move with it. And you notice things... small things that others miss."
Callen nodded, absorbing every movement. He did not yet understand the depth of centuries woven into Eldric's steps, but he could feel the weight, and the care, and the patience that came from lifetimes spent guarding the light.
As they reached Ashwell, the smell of coal and wet earth filled the air. Lanterns glowed along narrow streets, casting long, soft shadows. Eldric paused by the largest post at the village center. He placed a hand on the glass, feeling the warmth of the flame.
He remembered all the lives he had passed along this path, miners, children, travelers, villagers, all ephemeral sparks against the unending night. And yet, for centuries, the lanterns had endured.
A subtle motion caught his attention: in the shadows beyond the lamp posts, shapes shifted, barely perceptible. Shadows, not quite alive, observing the light. Eldric did not speak, did not panic. He had seen this before, darkness learns, even if slowly, and it tests patience as much as flame.
Callen's small hand brushed against his sleeve.
"What is that?"
Eldric shook his head gently.
"Nothing to fear tonight. But remember the road is not only for those who walk it. The darkness watches. It waits and the light is our promise."
The boy nodded silently, absorbing the warning without fully understanding. Eldric raised his staff, ensuring the lamp burned steady, then continued down the road.
The leaves rustled underfoot, the lanterns glimmered and the road stretched on, patient and enduring, as it had for centuries. But the shadows patient too, waited at the edges, learning, evolving.