The Last Light

The world had grown cold, the sun a distant memory. For years, the villagers survived by the dim glow of Lina’s lantern—the last light in a sea of endless twilight.

One bitter night, a stranger stumbled into the village, his cloak tattered, his hands trembling. "Please," he whispered, "share your light."

Lina hesitated. The lantern’s flame was already weak; sharing it might doom them all. But his desperation mirrored her own heart. She lifted the lantern, letting its glow touch him.

To her astonishment, the flame didn’t dim—it grew brighter.

The stranger smiled. "Light thrives when shared."

Word spread. Others came—lost travelers, weary souls—each carrying their own darkness. Each time Lina shared the flame, the light intensified, pushing back the encroaching night.

Then, one morning, a golden streak pierced the horizon. The villagers gasped as the sun—long forgotten—rose anew, its warmth bathing the land.

The stranger was gone, but his words remained: "Hope, like fire, must be passed on."

And so, Lina wandered the world, lantern in hand, teaching others the secret of the light.

For in the darkest times, kindness was the spark that could reignite the sun.