Chapter Fifty-Seven:

“The Light Within”

The moment Roland and the others stepped inside, the warmth hit them first, a sharp difference from the frozen expanse they had just crossed. The hut was larger than it had seemed from the outside, its walls stretching far enough to accommodate their group without feeling cramped. The air smelled of burnt herbs, aged wood, tinged with something sharp beneath it all.

Shelves lined the walls, packed with glass vials, aged tomes, and bundles of dried herbs hanging from the rafters. A massive cauldron bubbled near the center of the room, its contents glowing with an unnatural blue-green shimmer. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering light onto the stone floors, where a trapdoor with a sturdy wooden ladder led down to what was likely a living space beneath.

Sterling stood near the center, leaning on his staff, his face calm, composed beneath the cloth wrapped around his eyes. Hex moved beside him, her small hands lightly gripping his sleeve as though guiding him.

"Please, make yourselves at home," she said, her voice warm and inviting. "I’ll prepare something warm for you all."

Sterling tilted his head slightly, as if sensing their hesitation. "I imagine you have questions," he said, his tone calm and measured. "And I suspect I may have answers."

Roland kept his stance firm near the entrance, his fingers brushing the hilt of his sword, still wary. "We were told something is wrong with this land. These ghost flames, the sudden winter… they must be tied to whatever is at the heart of the Mire? Am I correct in this assumption?"

Sterling nodded. "Yes. The ghost flames have grown restless. More violent. And I fear the temple, the one that lies at the center, holds the answer. The Guardian of Fire dwells within, but something must be terribly wrong for the flames to be behaving this way."

Rachel stepped forward, shifting her attention between the two of them. "If you know what’s happening, why haven’t you gone yourself? You clearly have power."

Sterling let out a quiet chuckle, tilting his head toward her. "A fair question. I may be blind, but I am not useless. I can defend myself well enough… but I cannot navigate the mire alone." He tapped his staff lightly against the ground. "My daughter has offered many times to accompany me, but I will not put her in harm’s way."

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

Hex frowned, her grip tightening on his sleeve. "Father, we could go together. I can guide you. We could."

"No." His voice was gentle but firm. "I will not risk your life. Not for this. Not for anything."

The silence that followed was heavy, but Hex did not argue further. She merely lowered her head, nodding obediently.

Sterling turned back to the group. "However, I may not need to go. The light spell I cast to drive away the wolves, the one that took my sight, is the key to surviving the mire." He adjusted his grip on his staff, grounding himself to it as if feeling the weight of his past. "With it, you can keep the ghost flames at bay."

Roland’s eyes narrowed. "And you can teach it to me?"

Sterling smiled, inclining his head. "Yes. If you are willing to learn."

Sterling stepped forward, holding out a length of cloth. "Put this on."

Roland hesitated but took the blindfold. "Why?"

"Because you rely on your eyes too much. Light is not just something you see, it is something you feel." Sterling’s tone was patient, expectant. "Trust me."

With a breath, Roland tied the blindfold over his eyes, sealing himself in darkness. The air in the hut carried an odd stillness, the warmth of the fire against his skin more pronounced. His other senses sharpened, but he felt… lost.

"Listen," Sterling continued. "The world is not silent, even in darkness. Light has presence. You must reach for it."

Roland perked his ears, focusing, but nothing happened.

Chris huffed from the side. "So we're doing the whole 'see without seeing' thing? Classic."

A sigh came from beside him. "You’re thinking too hard," Keira said. "You don’t force fire, it just is. Light should be the same."

Sterling nodded. "She is correct. Fire and light are kin. One devours, the other reveals."

Keira demonstrated, a small flame forming in her palm, steady and controlled. "We pull heat from the air, but we don’t command it, we let it flow."

"You are not calling heat," Sterling added. "You are calling clarity. Stillness. Fire is destruction, light is guidance."

Roland exhaled sharply, attempting again, but still, nothing.

The sudden sound of Sterling’s staff tapping the floor was followed by a rush of air as every source of light in the room vanished.

Rachel said under her breath, more to herself than anyone else, "Interesting. He’s removing external perception to force internal awareness... That actually makes sense."

The hut was plunged into complete darkness.

"Now, you have no choice," Sterling said, his voice calm in the void. "Remove the blindfold and yet you still cannot see, but you must still move. You must summon the light yourself."

Roland’s breath was slow and measured. He reached out, not with his hands, but with his focus. He let go of frustration, of expectation. Instead, he reached for something deeper, the glow that should be there, waiting.

Something stirred. A faint shimmer of light gathered in his palm, weak at first but growing steadier.

Sterling spoke softly. "Now, hold it."

Roland focused, steadying the glow as it pulsed softly in his hands. He felt its warmth, not like fire, not searing or wild, but soothing. Keira’s flame burned nearby as a comparison, but his was different. Gentle.

"Good," Sterling said at last. "Now you are ready."