Seraphine

Then came the Long Night. The graves of the valley opened, the dead walked toward Candlemere... and one by one, the candles went out.

The villagers crowded into the nave. I was fifteen, holding the last candle... and when I prayed, the light did not flicker. It grew.

It held until dawn. A shield woven from candlelight. Mother Ilsabet looked at me as if she had seen a saint... or a threat.

At twenty I swore my vows beneath the Bell of Unbroken Vigil. They called me Lightbinder... and gave me the halo I still wear.

For years I wove the dawnlight into shields over Candlemere. Every night the dead came back. Every night, the light held.

But one night I followed a song down into the crypt beneath the cathedral... and found the Choir. All forty of them.

Mother Ilsabet had bound their souls to the candles, so the light would never go out. The Hollow Choir... was what kept us burning.

I asked her why. She said a light that never fails is worth any price... as long as someone else pays it.

So I did the one thing a Lightbinder must never do. I unbound the light... and every candle in the cathedral went dark.

They named me heretic and drove me into the snow. And the Hollow Choir, free and furious, followed the only light left... mine.

Now every night they come for me, singing louder than before. And every night I sing back... and lay one of them to rest.

It's over, I tell them. Rest now. The light was never yours to carry.

I still light the candles. One candle for everyone who does not come home... until every one of them is home.