Eli stood at the edge of the village, lantern in hand, watching the sun sink behind
the hills. The elders always said never to stay out past dusk, not since the lights
began to disappear one by one.
He didn’t believe the stories—until now.
He had wandered too far chasing his sister’s lost scarf, and when he finally found
it tangled in a branch, the sky had already turned violet. Now, silence pressed on
him like a weight. Even the wind held its breath.
As he turned to run, a flicker of movement caught his eye. Shadows, darker than
night, crept along the ground, devouring light wherever they touched. The lantern
hissed in protest.
Eli ran, heart hammering, feet flying over familiar paths that suddenly felt
strange. The lights of home twinkled in the distance, fragile as stars.
Just before the last flame in his lantern died, he reached the threshold of the
village gate. The shadows halted, recoiling as if struck.
Behind him, the dark pulsed like a living thing.
Safe—for now—Eli looked up. “Tomorrow,” he whispered, “I bring back the sun.”