Elias Mercer stood frozen in the lantern room, his breath shallow as the last traces of Lillian dissolved into the blue flame. The storm outside had ceased as abruptly as if commanded by some unseen force, leaving an eerie silence in its wake. The only sound was the soft hum of the lantern, its light now pulsing with an otherworldly rhythm.

“I’m sorry, Elias. But the light was dying. It needed a new keeper.”

Her words echoed in his mind. He had heard tales of the Blackthorn Light being more than just a beacon—whispers of it being alive, bound to the island by something older than memory. But he had dismissed them as sailor’s superstition. Now, he wasn’t so sure.

His hands trembled as he reached out again, half-expecting to feel warmth, a presence—anything. But the flame burned cold, its glow casting long, shifting shadows across the walls.

“What have you done?” he murmured, not expecting an answer.

But then, the flame flickered.

And the sea answered.

A deep, resonant hum rose from the waters below, vibrating through the lighthouse’s stone foundations. Elias rushed to the window, his heart pounding. The ocean, moments ago a churning nightmare, was now unnaturally still—a black mirror reflecting the starless sky.

Then, the water began to move.

Not in waves, but in spirals, as if something vast was stirring beneath the surface. A shape emerged—dark, serpentine, its scales glinting like polished obsidian. It circled the island once before diving back into the depths, leaving only ripples in its wake.

Elias stumbled back, his pulse roaring in his ears. He had seen many things in his years on Blackthorn Isle, but nothing like this.

The lantern’s blue flame flared brighter, and a voice—Lillian’s voice, but layered with something ancient—whispered from within the fire.

“It has been waiting.”

The Bargain
Elias spent the next three days in a daze, barely sleeping, barely eating. The lighthouse functioned on its own now—the doors locked and unlocked by unseen hands, the wick never needing adjustment. The blue light pulsed steadily, casting its glow farther than any natural flame could.

And every night, the thing in the water returned.

It never surfaced fully, but Elias felt its presence—an immense weight just beyond sight. Sometimes, he caught glimpses of its eyes, glowing like submerged lanterns in the dark.

On the fourth night, he could bear it no longer. He stood before the lantern, gripping the railing until his knuckles turned white.

“Lillian,” he said, his voice rough. “What are you? What is that out there?”

The flame twisted, forming a shape—a woman’s face, flickering in the fire.

“I am the Keeper,” she said. “And the sea is waking.”

Elias swallowed hard. “Why now? Why you?”

“Because you were the last of the old blood,” she replied. “The last Mercer. The lighthouse needed a new guardian… but the sea needed one too.”

His stomach dropped. “You mean—that thing—”

“Is the last of its kind. Like you. Like me.”

A cold understanding settled over him. The lighthouse wasn’t just a warning to ships—it was a cage. And Lillian had become its lock.

The Choice
By the end of the week, the nightmares began.

Elias dreamed of drowning, of sinking into endless black water, of something vast and hungry watching him from below. He woke gasping, saltwater on his lips despite being miles from the shore.

The flame whispered to him now even when he wasn’t in the lantern room.

“It wants to be free.”

Elias clenched his fists. “And if it gets free?”

“It will hunt.”

He thought of the fishing villages along the coast, the ships that passed through these waters. If that thing was unleashed—

“No,” he growled. “There has to be another way.”

The flame dimmed. “There is one.”

He already knew. He had always known, deep down.

The lighthouse demanded a Keeper.

And if Lillian was bound to the flame…

Then the sea demanded one too.

By Lucifer

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