Member-only story
The Flame Keeper
Without fire, without oil, and without a soul within, the lighthouse on Black Hollow Cliff lighted itself every century. According to locals, it was haunted. Ghosts weren’t real to Isla.
Until she caught sight of him.
On the night she went, a towering guy standing in the glass tower was clad in stormlight. His words pierced the breaking waves, and his eyes blazed like coals.
He cautioned, “You shouldn’t be here.”
Isla shivered and shot back, “I could say the same.”
Not quite light, not quite real, he took a step forward. “I can’t escape the blaze. I prevent ships from colliding, yet I used to be flesh and once fell in love.
“Who were you?” she interrogated.
“Cormac.” The sea witch, whom I declined to marry, cursed a lighthouse keeper. My love was drowned by her, and I was sentenced to burn alone.
Isla ought to have fled. However, she returned night after night, attracted to him like the tide to the moon. They talked about loneliness, about the stars, and about being noticed. She brought literature, music, and candles. Even though he was unable to touch her, he provided warmth.
Then the waves roared louder than ever one stormy night.
