You motion calmly at the log seat across from you. The woods had never presented you with such a strange visitor, and in fact a small pool of fear settled in your stomach at the sight of the odd being, but grandmother had said it enough times,
"around our fire no one is a stranger."
The beings glowing eyes gazed upon the dying embers and they seemed to settle into a calm and hearth-like light.
"Tell me your tale stranger," you inquire.
"Tell me anyhow. Woe is meant to be shared. One heart alone should not bear it's burden."
"You are kind young human. Very well. I will tell you my tale. I was once beautiful," the being explained.
"I should think you are beautiful now," you respond.
The being nodded thoughtfully.
"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder," they agreed.
"But I was once strong, and young. I was once powerful enough to shake the earth. I had boundless energy and spirit."
"What happened?" You ask.
"I grew old in my years of adventure. There were days when I thought my time here endless, and now I have strength enough to sit by dying fires and rest, and that is all. I do miss my youth," the being explained sadly.
"You still long for adventure?" You ask.
"I long for adventure the way the the trees long for rain in the summer. The way a bird longs to be home in its nest, and the way a weary traveler longs for a small fire to rest beside."
"Let us mourn then," you say.
"Let us mourn for the loss of youth. The way the spirit of adventure deteriorates with our muscles and bones, for our wild hearts will greatly miss our legs obeying it's command to run."
"A great loss indeed," the being agreed.
"But let us also welcome what we have gained, " you remind the being.
"Though your adventures have come to an end, you have gained a quiet and safe place to rest. And a friend," you add thoughtfully.
"You're right. These are worthwhile rewards. Perhaps, if it wouldn't be a terrible grievance, I could tell you of my adventures."
"Come and visit my fire as often as you please," you agree.
And the being does. Every night they return and tell you of a new adventure, and every night you listen. Some nights, the fire seems bright and fierce, and the tales are daring and dangerous. Other nights, the fire is small and calm and the being tells you of the most beautiful places they've seen.
One night, the being does not come at all. The fire is nothing more than glowing coals as you sit and wait. Soon enough, the fire dies. You go inside to your warm house, hoping the being will visit tomorrow.
But the being does not come the next night either. And the night after that, and the next you sit alone at the fire. Eventually you come to think the being had moved on to some other fire, or adventure.
You wait one more night though. Just in case.
It's lucky you do because the being shows up. Their glowing eyes are dimmer than the coals between the two of you.
"I thought I wouldn't see you again," you tell them.
"I'm sorry I've been away, there was one last adventure that I needed to have."
"Tell me about it," you say.
The being breathes in deeply, and you notice how worn they look. The being begins to speak, it's raspy voice worse for wear. You could tell now, having talked to them so many nights.
The being told you how it visited all the places it had ever been, to say goodbye, and all the friends it had ever met to say hello one more time.
"I'm glad I was able to return one last time, for the end of my life in drawing near. But I fear the spirit of my stories and adventures will die with me. Such wonders I encountered, and such meaning I discovered about love and companionship. The will leave from the world when the light leaves from my eyes."
You think for a moment, sharing in the beings woe and grief for the loss of their existence. You contemplate the safety of your fire, and the nearness of your house.
The warm lights from inside have always called you in once the fire died out.
"I will tell your stories," you offer.
"To who? It is only we who share your small fire."
"To anyone I can find, out in the greater world."
"Hold me while the fire dies, my friend."
The being whispers how they will be with you on your every journey. They will be the light of your torch in a dark tunnel. The warmth of the fire on a cold night. The stars in the sky, guiding your way, and the depth of the woods to entice you onwards.
As the being promises this to you, they begin to fade into the sky like smoke from the logs. Their eyes fade like the shivering coals and their voice slips into no more than the whisper of the wind blowing by.
The wind takes with it your fire, and for a moment you are alone in the cold, beneath the icy stars.
You turn and see the warm lights of your house. They're inviting, and friendly, and lit with comfort.
You turn towards the dark woods before you. Wind whistles through its canopy. It's dark, and foreign.
Yet, as you look into the unknown there's something very familiar to you. There's a familiarity in the stars in the sky, guiding your way and in the depth of the woods enticing you onwards.
With that, you step forward, and feel the fire inside you roar to life. Beautiful, young and full of spirit, and strong enough to shake the earth.
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