Like Moths to a Flame
It seems that many creatures that revel in the night garner their own superstitions, and for one so aligned with the fluttering creatures that crave light, the unlucky guide garnered many of their own. The forests were still and very few sounds permeated the thick trees, and any nearby creatures soon scattered.
The faint orange glow from a tiered lantern was enough to light the way, but cast large shadows that could have easily spooked a strong soul. But the guide was used to the darkness and the night, and the only thought in their head ‘Is this how a seeker must feel, finding their way in shadow?’.
Some believed moths to be omens of death, that their mere presence in a home meant a soul was soon to die. And maybe it’s that inherent superstition that left the guide alone, afraid to make meaningful relationships with others. But they were alright with that, tending to prefer the quiet and companionship only of a slab that might cross their path.
Off in the distance there’s a crack of a branch, a rustling of leaves and wind that soon subsides. They pause, trying their best to determine where it came from, and if they hear anything else. Could someone be following them? Or rather, was something using the shadows cast by the lantern to hide from them, stalk them? The guide’s small heartbeat beat in their chest but they soon put it past them, continuing down a path that has been made from over countless feet running across it.
No, they weren’t of a superstitious sort, thought most of those beliefs to be folly and nonsense. Their appearance had nothing to do with what others thought of them, but maybe…..it was better to be safe than sorry, make sure to not cause anyone strife at the sight of them. So they hold their lantern higher, make it a bit easier to be seen by anything that might have been attracted to it.
Every night they would repeat the same motions over the same path, a curious sight for any guide or creature who catches a glance of the glowing orange lantern that seems to be the any light for miles around. And like moths to a flame they follow it, and if some of those end up never finding their way back home again, well…….for others, it’s nothing more than a superstition.