The Lantern of Lost Words

Elara never believed in magic.

Until the night the library found her.

It was 12:07 AM. The old street behind her house was empty, but there was a door where yesterday there was only a wall. A wooden door, with dust on it, and a faint golden light leaking from underneath.

She pushed it.

Inside was not a room. It was an endless library. Books floating in the air, stairs that led to nowhere, and in the centre - on a table made of old stories - was a lantern.

It was not lit. But it was glowing.

She went closer. Inside the glass, there were no flames. There were words. Hundreds of them, swirling like fireflies.

One floated near the glass. It said: "whisper"

Another one: "memory"

And then, one came very close to her face, brighter than the others. It pulsed.

It said: "Elara"

Her own name. In a handwriting she knew. Her mother's handwriting.

Her mother who had not spoken to her in three years.

Her hand was shaking when she reached for the lantern's handle.

And the moment she touched it, all the words stopped moving. And started whispering at once.

To be continued...