Servant of the Flame

Isaac was a dutiful servant to the master of the hall. He was the bearer of keys, cleaner of the lord's latrine and bringer of snacks. He swelled with pride knowing that when he completed his tasks he would be rewarded with the warm glance of his beloved patron and the satisfaction of a job well done.

On that fateful winter evening, Isaac had put extra care to prepare for the lord's evening eliminations. He would spit polish the porcelain bowl and warm the seat himself. Finishing with the task he pulled the red silk cord which rang a small bell off in the distance. The familiar signal that the "frozen throne" was clean and had warmed to body temperature as his master preferred.

When he saw his patron's approach moments later he felt the warmth leave his body. There was a paleness to his face and an urgency in his steps. His eyes seemed to hold the coldness of the dark still night. A chill rose up through Isaac's spine as he stood by not daring to breath. His master strode past closing the lavatory door behind him.

"He must have eaten something foul. I will surprise with him a cup of tea to ease the strain in his belly," Isaac muttered to himself, pushing any probing thoughts from his mind.

He hurried down to the kitchen and put the kettle on to boil. Isaac warmed himself next to the stove when he heard the sound of hooves coming up the cobblestone path. He peered through the small round window and saw the dark shape of a coach and rider led by two ponies.

Gaunt and perhaps even sickly, the steeds looked strange to Isaac's old eyes. Wretched creatures, yet they must be strong as they did not breath heavily under the weight of the yolk. Their burden easing as the carriage slowed. The driver dismounted, placing a small step stool on the ground between the large wooden wheels. He opened the door and deep red glow emerged from the cabin and onto the ground.

The visitor stepped out from the vessel and into the courtyard. Dressed in a dark hood and cloak that flowed in the mist, their identity was obscured from sight. In their gloved hand they revealed the source of the unearthly light. A lantern whose glass, darkened with soot, concealed a crimson flame that smoked excessively.

Isaac noticed his master was peering at the newcomers from the safety of the doorway. After a moment of uncharacteristic hesitation he regained composure and walked out and down the stone steps to greet the cloaked figure.

The driver moved to block the path of his approach. An exchange of emphatic words and furtive gestures were made. The lord revealed a small but heavy pouch and handed the item to the other man. After a moment of inspection, the driver stepped aside and bowed in a flourish, possibly of mocking deference.

The lord of the hall hesitated for a second time. Slowly then all at once he moved forward, took the lantern from outstrechted hand of the anonymous guest and turned to scurry unceremoniously back up the stairs disappearing from sight. The courtyard returned to darkness once again.

Isaac heard the crack of the driving whip a moment later. A hallow whinny and the ponies strained forward, lurching the carriage from stillness. They turned and headed towards the road. The night concealing their exit.

The whistling of the kettle snapped Isaac back to his present moment and he set to complete his forgotten task with some urgency.

He prepared the tea and hurried to find his master. It was not his business, but Isaac was determined to learn something of the nature of this treasure, or perhaps it was the visitors themselves that perplexed him most.

A smell of burning filled the hall air, somewhat noxious but not unpleasant. The same deep red light came from the door at the end of the hall much much brighter than before and for a moment Isaac thought his master's study room was on fire.

He saw the flame. Or perhaps they saw eachother. The deepest of red glows, it sang to Issac through the fibres of his being. It was small, but luminous when uncovered. It's light filled Isaac's vision completely. It spoke to him through the void: "Isaac. You are the one."

His master was standing over the lantern, lost in the act of gazing into the light. Suddenly he looked up to see his servant standing in the doorway. He moved quickly, replacing the sooted lantern glass over the hungering light. His eyes glared at Isaac with malevolence and and he shut the door with force knocking the tray from Isaac's hands. Isaac was left in the cold dark of the hall to pick up pieces of the wasted gift.

Returning to his quarters that night, Isaac's mind drifted back to the lantern. The smell and song of the flame persisted even as he lay sleepless in his bed. The flame would glow so brightly if only it were allowed. Its light would illuminate the world with the help of a skillful servant. Isaac's master was no such servant, he was too full of his own sense of self-importance to serve the flame fully. It needed sacrifice. It needed Isaac.

Entered by: 0xb9ba…7687 and preserved on chain (see transaction)