The Lanters

I remember when the lanterns first appeared on the horizon. It was close to midnight, as most strange occurrences often are, and i was lying awake in my bed desperately counting down the hours to morning. Morning would mean it was time for the harvest, and the start of the new calendar. The elders had always told us what happend if you wear awake at midnight before the harvest, when the lights from the other would try to lure children away. We hadn't believed it, of course, but they insisted and so something about it had crept into out imaginations. By that point, I'd been training as a healer for a year and was quite good at it, I knew the basic herbs and elixirs to heal wounded farmers, but I still had much to learn. That night, when the lanterns appeared on the horizon, I was destined to learn quickly. The weather was warm, even at midnight, with a clinging humidity that threatened to suffocate you if you weren't careful. Shadowy wisps of mist clung to the edge of the riverbank as I wandered out of the hut and made my way to the top of the wooded hill. I'd hoped to get a better look at the lanterns from up there, but by the time I reached the summit, they were already there ahead of me. From a distance, as I clambered up the rocks and slippery gravel on the side of the mound, I had been convinced the lamps were floating through the air, like the paper lanterns we released every new moon. When I arrived, I realised I was wrong, what I saw shocked me. Each light was held in the pale hand of a ghostly figure. There were maybe a hundred, maybe more, each no taller than myself and slender like elves. Their body were almost transparent, only moonlight glinting fro, their edges gave them any shape at all. It took me a moment to take in the scene before one of them broke away from the group and floated towards me. Perhaps, I should have ran,sprining down the hill, and hiding away in my bed and pretend that nothing happend but I was never the one to run away from some adventure. Strangely, I wasn't scared by the creatures; if anything, they gave an air of sadness rather than terror. When the spirit reached me, it spoke to me. Its soft voice seemed to be a whisper on the night air, nothing more than a hushed wind, but it echoed by all the others and soon filled my head with its noise. "We need you. We need you to heal us. It is important" Now, I was scared. How could I heal these phantom spirits that had appeared from nowhere? There was insistent, though. Gradually, they surrounded me and took my arms and legs and lifted me into the air,. They weren't rough, or menacing, just gentle and urgent. We rose higher and higher until we were surrounded by clouds. Tufts of cold mist lazily drifted past, the lanterns lightning the way the entire time until we burst into darkness. Up ahead, a pinpoint of light slowly started to grow until, finally, it became an ivory tower. I remember when the lanterns first appeared on the horizon. It was close to midnight, as most strange occurrences often are, and i was lying awake in my bed desperately counting down the hours to morning. Morning would mean it was time for the harvest, and the start of the new calendar. The elders had always told us what happend if you wear awake at midnight before the harvest, when the lights from the other would try to lure children away. We hadn't believed it, of course, but they insisted and so something about it had crept into out imaginations. By that point, I'd been training as a healer for a year and was quite good at it, I knew the basic herbs and elixirs to heal wounded farmers, but I still had much to learn. That night, when the lanterns appeared on the horizon, I was destined to learn quickly. The weather was warm, even at midnight, with a clinging humidity that threatened to suffocate you if you weren't careful. Shadowy wisps of mist clung to the edge of the riverbank as I wandered out of the hut and made my way to the top of the wooded hill. I'd hoped to get a better look at the lanterns from up there, but by the time I reached the summit, they were already there ahead of me. From a distance, as I clambered up the rocks and slippery gravel on the side of the mound, I had been convinced the lamps were floating through the air, like the paper lanterns we released every new moon. When I arrived, I realised I was wrong, what I saw shocked me. Each light was held in the pale hand of a ghostly figure. There were maybe a hundred, maybe more, each no taller than myself and slender like elves. Their body were almost transparent, only moonlight glinting fro, their edges gave them any shape at all. It took me a moment to take in the scene before one of them broke away from the group and floated towards me. Perhaps, I should have ran,sprining down the hill, and hiding away in my bed and pretend that nothing happend but I was never the one to run away from some adventure. Strangely, I wasn't scared by the creatures; if anything, they gave an air of sadness rather than terror. When the spirit reached me, it spoke to me. Its soft voice seemed to be a whisper on the night air, nothing more than a hushed wind, but it echoed by all the others and soon filled my head with its noise. "We need you. We need you to heal us. It is important" Now, I was scared. How could I heal these phantom spirits that had appeared from nowhere? There was insistent, though. Gradually, they surrounded me and took my arms and legs and lifted me into the air,. They weren't rough, or menacing, just gentle and urgent. We rose higher and higher until we were surrounded by clouds. Tufts of cold mist lazily drifted past, the lanterns lightning the way the entire time until we burst into darkness. Up ahead, a pinpoint of light slowly started to grow until, finally, it became an ivory tower.