The Lantern (2020)

The Seer stared into the machine, willing forth its dire visions. A golden glow entranced his eyes and infinite strands of light wove together to induce hallucination. Dreams overtook him, dreams of a time distant in an uncertain direction. Yet each flash of the people and places beginning, growing, and dying violently before his eyes bore a painful familiarity. He knew that he was watching the end of the world, and of every world conceivable. Trillions of winding paths through starry blackness converged on one point, one locus of unavoidable and profound catastrophe. It was the end of everything. 

Inhaling sharply, the Seer drew his face back from the device, a black metallic object which resembled a lantern. He thumbed the power switch to the off position. A deep sigh sounded to the Seer like it came from somewhere far off, but he knew it to be his own breath. His eyes scanned slowly across the familiar space of the little cabin in which he lived. Arcane totems and obscure texts cluttered the walls and the shelves and the table at which he sat. Books and codices were strewn about, left open to pages on topics that bore no logical correlation with one another. The curtains were drawn tightly shut. 

It hadn’t always been like this. The Seer’s home had been a place of order and peace. The cabin was the type of sanctuary he’d always sought. It had been seven weeks since he acquired the lantern, seven weeks of encroaching disarray. The thing was damned puzzling, and he had spent his recent days on a rotating schedule of manic study and long hours of half-sleep. Exhaustion weighed him and fear would not let him rest. 

Without thinking, he retrieved a hand rolled cigarette from his shirt pocket and lit it with a long match. The smoke was what kept him sane, he thought, or at least willing to live within the realm of madness. It felt as though not an instant had passed before he was through with one and smoking another. A third one satisfied him. He sat for a few minutes in relative contentment.

A loud, rhythmic knock sounded at the door. The Seer’s heart dropped and then fluttered, giving way to a steady pound. He grabbed an iron dagger from his table and bolted to the door. He swung it open with a violent jerk. 

“Gods below!” he bellowed into the face of the visitor standing before him, a tall man in a long, dark green coat and a broad brown hat. “You scared an old man half to death, you damn devil!”

The man’s sunburned, stubbled face was earnestly remorseful. He raised his hands like a man surrendering. “I do apologize, gray one. I intended no fright and I have no devilish business about me.” His eyes drifted to the dagger quivering in the Seer’s hand. “Please, venerable sir, there ain’t need for the knife.”

The Seer squinted at the man in the bright light of the summer day for a few moments, and lowered the dagger to his side. He took several deep breaths. “It is I who ought to apologize, traveler. I’ve not seen a soul in many days.” He chuckled and shook his head. “How else should a man announce himself but knock? I’ve become unreasonable.” 

The visitor smiled and waved his hands in dismissal of the transgression. “Think not of it, gray one. Does not every man’s reason lapse?”

“It is so,” the Seer said with a nod. “Pray forgive my rudeness, but what type of man are you? You speak well, but with the thick accent of an outland peasant.”

“No rudeness, wise man. I am a ranger from the outlands but I have traveled to many places and spoken with many esteemed scholars such as yourself.”

“Such as myself?”

The man paused and frowned slightly. “Are you not the sage Gyges?”

“I am he.”

The visitor grinned broadly and clapped his hands together with satisfaction.

“But who are you?” Gyges said. “And why have you sought me?”

“My name is Abner. Abner Longwake. At your service, I hope.” The man took off his hat

and bowed, then placed the hat back on his head. 

Gyges frowned. “I should hope so as well. Please, tell me your business.”

Abner cleared his throat. “Well, I understand that you are known for collecting and cataloguing various items of peculiar quality. It is one such item I seek, that I have been sent after.”

“What item? And who has sent you such a long way from any of the kingdom’s cities or towns?” A growing suspicion raised Gyges’ pulse.

“I am told it is like a lantern, an electric one that does not die.”

“Who told you of this thing?” Gyges clutched the dagger more tightly.

“I was told of it by the man who sent me.”

“And who’s that, boy? I dislike that you have not named him.”

Abner sucked his teeth and frowned. “It is a condition of my employment that I do not name him. And more importantly for us both, there is a further condition that I am to bring him the lantern no matter what, at any cost to property or human life.” He placed a hand on one hip, drawing his coat back to reveal a long barreled pistol at his side, still longer for the silencer attached to its muzzle. Abner gave Gyges a look of sympathy as he saw the fear in the old man’s eyes. “I must reassure you, the gun is not the only way to resolve this business. But I have brought it should verbal persuasion not suffice.”

“No devilish business indeed,” Gyges said softly. “You would kill me to possess this device of which you know nothing.”

“I would indeed. Would you die to keep it from my hands?

“I can see that I might. And I can see that I might not. We should talk of it first.”

Abner stood in silent thought for a few moments. “We may discuss it more. But while you appear uncertain, I must tell you that I shall not leave without the lantern.”

 “Come inside first, and hear my argument. You may be persuaded yet.”

Abner bowed, letting his coat cover the gun once more. “I thank you for the invitation. I’ll gladly hear you, especially in a place of shade.”

Gyges grunted and waved him in. He closed the door and opened the curtains, dispelling the darkness in the cabin. Abner looked about with mild interest at the many artifacts and oddities, his eyes lingering on the lantern in the far right corner. He took a seat on one of two wooden chairs at the table, and Gyges sat across from him. The old man had brought with him a clay jug and a pair of cups. They filled the cups with cool tea from the jug without speaking. After taking a long draft, Abner raised his cup to Gyges. “A fine refreshment, gray one. Perfect for a mighty thirst such as I have had.”

“Fine indeed for such a rogue as you. Most people would have served you piss.”

“And so I salute you for your exceptional grace.”

Gyges scowled and shook his head. “Let us dispense with banter. Your task here is unwise, and the thing you seek should not be in the hands of one who would kill to possess it.” He took a drink of tea. “I have studied the marvels of the world since I was a small boy, seen countless wonders of technology and old magic. There are a great many things I understand intimately which the average fellow would struggle to grasp on a basic level. Mathematics and history, language and law, alchemy and herblore. Many things that could snap a more feeble mind.

“But this thing, this alien machine...its nature and purpose escape my mind. Grasping its truth has been like catching not one but a thousand slippery fish with just my two hands.” He drained his cup and lit a cigarette. “The only thing I am truly certain of is that it is powerful. Whatever purpose it has must be served with the utmost potency...the strength of gods.”

Abner finished his tea and poured himself another cup. “Well, perhaps it may comfort you that the one who sent me has apparently divined some purpose for it.”

“That does not comfort, but disturbs. I have seen the visions that the lantern shows, and they are of devastation that cannot be properly articulated in the tongue of a mortal. A man with a use for that must be malevolently insane.”

“I was told that gazing into its light may have a bewitching effect.”

Gyges pointed at the lantern. “Switch it on. Look into the light. Try to explain to me what you see.”

Abner chuckled. “I think not, gray one. If it shakes you so then I can’t imagine what it may do to a simple fellow like me.” He drew out and lit a cigarette of his own. “And why should you so desire to keep it if it gives you such horror?”

“Desire? No. It is obligation which I feel. If I spend more time with it, gods know how long, I may be able to understand what it really is.” 

“Do you suppose that it’s worth straining your mind to its last fibers? To judge by the look in your eyes, it’ll drive you mad long before you grasp its mystery.” Abner’s lips curled into a cruel smile. “I can see it happening already. Your beard is gnawed and ragged and you smell of shit. You’ve had it for not two months yet, no?”

“Seven weeks.”

Abner laughed. “And that was all it took to set you to cracking up. Proud old wizard, unable to accept that there are things he cannot know. Like the subject of a parable told to children in a temple nursery. Idiot kids, but wiser than you.”

Gyges growled and banged his fist on the table. “Fool! You know not what I have seen!”

“And I do not desire to know. It’s not in my interest to be driven mad by some eldritch vision.” Abner’s hand dropped below the table, and Gyges could hear the undoing of the snap on his holster. “All that I want is to be paid for the task I have been hired for. My ignorance is better than your knowledge, for I shall stay at peace while you quake and crumble.”

Gyges stared at Abner and shook with mounting rage. 

“Have I touched a nerve, wise man? Are you now forced to look at the futility of the philosopher’s task?”

Gyges said nothing.

Abner nodded. “Well. This has been a stimulating discussion, but I fear I must press the only relevant question which remains to either of us as of now. And I require a quick answer. Will you allow me to take the lantern in peace, or will you die here on this day?”

A few long moments of silence passed.

Gyges sprung from his chair and let out a scream like a wild beast. He lunged across the table with hands outstretched. Abner’s gun came up in an instant, and he fired twice. One bullet exploded into the old man’s chest and the other blasted his face into a gruesome wreckage. The Seer’s body collapsed onto the table, falling onto the clay jug and smashing it. Blood mingled with tea and numerous documents spread across the table were soaked to ruination.

Abner sighed and stood up from his chair. “Poor old buzzard. And a waste of good tea.” He turned the body over and inspected the shirt pocket. “Smokes are ruined too. Altogether a less than ideal outcome.” He laughed a short, bitter laugh to himself, and stepped towards the lantern. With it securely in hand, he left the cabin behind and descended the path into the wooded valley below.