By Lantern Light

Is that…is that a lantern coming down the path to our right? Someone else must be heading to the crossroads this evening! I guess we shouldn’t be surprised that others may have business to attend to in such a powerful area.
 
Maybe we should stick around a moment and introduce ourselves to a fellow traveler. It’s best to be cordial as often as possible. You never know when someone you meet may be your ally at a later time.
 
What a beautiful flame in that lantern--such a haunting blue. I will have to inquire as to what magic our soon-to-be-friend utilizes to achieve such a ghastly glow. Perhaps I could employ it on the caravan.
 
Can you make out a face yet? The flame is getting closer, but I can’t quite see who or what is carrying it. We have been out here long enough that our eyes should be adjusted to see at least a hint of an outline, but it almost looks like it is floating all on its own.
 
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There are accounts of spook lights in folklore all around the world. These mysterious lights, although we may never definitively know what causes them, are known to flit about in an intelligent manner, seemingly beckoning those who see it to follow. Often those who are curious enough to follow the light are led astray for hours, eventually finding themselves lost when it disappears.
 
The lights are not always full of trickery and malice, however. Sometimes, the lights have a critical message to communicate. Sometimes, they shouldn’t be ignored.
 
Many years ago, deep in the mines that riddle the mountains of West Virginia, an explosion claimed the life of a man…a father. This was not the first mining explosion, of course, and it certainly wasn’t the last, but what followed was fairly unique.
 
The miner’s body was not able to be recovered after the explosion and the following day the miner’s son had to go to work in his stead, as was so often the case in those days. The family had to eat. Someone needed to work.
 
The young man entered the mines that day undoubtedly wracked with grief. Perhaps the only emotion strong enough to override the heartache was the trepidation he must have felt entering the mine that had only recently become his father’s tomb.
 
After a short while, the son managed to get himself turned around and separated from the other miners. He was lost. He was completely isolated for some time until a blue flame appeared suddenly. Although it was an unfamiliar sight, he was curious enough to follow it. He didn’t know his way out of the mine, anyway. Perhaps this was the only thing that made sense to him at the time.
 
The flame wound deeper and deeper into the mines, pausing for the boy to catch up if ever he fell behind. Eventually the air thinned to an uncomfortable level. However, boy’s concern over his dwindling ability to breathe was brushed aside momentarily as he began to hear someone call his name. The voice came from farther down the dark tunnels. He followed both the flame as well as the echoes of the voice deeper still until something extraordinary happened. The flame began to manipulate itself in such a way that the young man saw an image within its blue hues: his father. The boy ran toward this projection as fast as he could; however, just as he got within reach, it disappeared. Instead of holding his father one final time, the boy stumbled into a hole. When he gathered himself, the flame was gone, and in front of him was the body of his father. The young man was finally able to say goodbye. The body was recovered, and the family could mourn their loss with a proper burial.
 
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You know, the more I think about this, the more I think we need to hop back up in the Caravan. Maybe no one is carrying that flame…at least no one of our realm. We have done what is needed here, and I think maybe that blue flame has a message of some sort. It has our attention now. Who are we to ignore such a thing? Like I said earlier, it is best to be friendly whenever possible.
 
Come…let’s see where this may lead.
 
 
 
 
Until next time,
Heather
 
 
 
 
 
 
Further Reading:
 
Musick, Ruth Ann. The Telltale Lilac Bush and Other West Virginia Ghost Tales. University of Kentucky Press, 1965.