In the small, forgotten village of Ember Hollow, nestled between misty mountains, the nights were long and dark. The villagers relied on flickering oil lamps and candlelight, for no electric wires reached their secluded home. But deep in the forest, hidden among the ancient trees, stood an old tower—rusted and silent—where a strange man named Elias lived.
Elias was the last of the Light Keepers, a secretive order said to have once harnessed the power of storms. The villagers whispered that he could summon lightning with a snap of his fingers, but no one dared ask him. Children told tales of blue sparks dancing in his palms, and how his eyes glowed when thunder rolled across the sky.
One winter, a terrible blizzard struck, freezing the village in endless night. Lamps burned out, fires died, and fear crept into every home. Desperate, the village elder, Marta, climbed the winding path to Elias’s tower. She knocked on the iron door, her breath forming clouds in the cold.
The door creaked open, revealing Elias—his wild hair streaked with silver, his coat lined with copper threads. "You’ve come for light," he said, not a question.
Marta nodded. "We will perish without it."
Elias sighed, then stepped aside. Inside, the tower hummed with energy. Glass orbs filled with swirling blue light lined the walls, and strange machines crackled with unseen power. He led her to a massive lever, covered in dust.
"This was never meant for one village," he muttered. "But perhaps it’s time."
With a deep breath, he pulled the lever.
