The Last Candle

The village of Grimvale sat at the edge of an ancient forest, shrouded in mist and forgotten by time. Its people lived quiet lives, untouched by sickness or death for centuries. At the heart of the village stood a single candle, perched atop a stone altar in the old chapel. The flame never flickered, never wavered, casting its warm glow day and night. No one knew who lit it or when, but they all believed one thing: as long as the candle burned, death would never come to Grimvale.

Liora, a young woman with fire in her eyes, had always questioned the village's peculiar ways. She watched as generation after generation lived the same lives, trapped in an endless cycle of routine and immortality. Children were born, yet no one ever grew old. Her own parents, alive for hundreds of years, seemed like ghosts of themselves—numb, resigned, and devoid of true joy.

There were whispers, of course. Some villagers claimed to have seen strangers pass through the village only to disappear, as if the mist itself swallowed them whole. Others spoke of dreams—dark dreams—where death roamed the streets of Grimvale, waiting for his chance to reclaim what was stolen.

But Liora was different. She wasn’t content with just surviving. She longed for freedom, for a life beyond the boundaries of the village, even if it meant facing death. One cold, moonless night, her curiosity got the best of her.

She crept into the chapel, the flickering light of the candle drawing her in like a moth to a flame. As she approached the altar, the air grew thick, heavy with an ancient presence. The candle seemed ordinary enough, yet she felt its power thrumming beneath the surface. Her fingers itched to touch it, to understand its secret.

A voice, soft and mournful, echoed in the stillness. "Why have you come?"

Liora froze, her heart pounding in her chest. She turned to find an old man standing in the shadows, his eyes dull with age yet filled with a deep sadness.

"The candle," she whispered. "What is it? Why does it burn so long?"

The man stepped closer, his footsteps barely audible against the stone floor. "It holds the curse of this village. Long ago, our ancestors made a pact with the forest spirits to escape death. The candle was lit, and from that day forward, death could no longer enter Grimvale. But there is a price."

Liora’s eyes narrowed. "What price?"

The man sighed, his gaze drifting to the flame. "We have traded our souls for immortality. We live, but we do not truly live. Our bodies remain, but our spirits are trapped, stagnant, unable to move on. And if the candle ever goes out..." His voice trailed off, as if the words were too terrible to speak.

"Then death will come for us all," Liora finished, her voice barely a whisper.

The old man nodded. "It is the choice we made. And now, it is the choice you must make."

Liora stared at the candle, the weight of the decision pressing down on her. She could leave things as they were—let the village continue its timeless existence—or she could end it, free them all from the curse. But freedom came at a price, and that price was everything.

Her hand trembled as she reached for the candle. The flame danced, casting long shadows across the chapel walls. Her mind raced with doubts, but deep down, she knew what had to be done.

With a single breath, she blew out the flame.

The darkness was immediate, all-encompassing. The air grew still, and for a moment, nothing happened. Then, slowly, a chill crept through the village, seeping into every corner, every home. The mist thickened, swirling like the breath of some unseen force.

And then they came—the spirits, long dormant, finally free to claim what was theirs. One by one, the villagers fell, their bodies crumpling as the years caught up to them in an instant. The centuries of stolen life evaporated, leaving behind only the hollow shells of those who had once lived.

Liora stood in the center of the village, watching as everything crumbled around her. Her parents, her friends, everyone she had ever known—they were all gone. The candle was extinguished, and with it, the curse was lifted.

But she was alone.

As the dawn broke over Grimvale, the village was silent once more. Liora stood amidst the ruins, her heart heavy with the weight of her choice. The last candle had burned out, and death had finally come.

And in the end, it was not the end of their suffering—it was only the beginning.

The End....