Keepers of the Flame

“So…” James began again, with a little more confidence this time, “when I go back home, all I need to do is continue to focus on the flame inside me. I need to get into the habit of noticing when it dims — when I've dimmed it,” he quickly corrected himself, “and simply relax and let it expand and burn brightly within me once again,” he finished with the satisfied smile of a student who'd learned the lesson well.

“Yes,” smiled the little man kindly. He said nothing more. He simply waited for James to feel what he'd just recited. The man knew that James was like a young fawn, testing his spindly legs for the first time, wobbly but determined to master the art of standing. For his part, James felt more like a schoolboy learning Latin grammar by rote but not yet fluent in classical Latin; or reciting the times tables but not yet able to do long division.

James smiled in return. He felt the fresh excitement of having learned something new, something big, something transformative, but not feeling that he fully grasped it, fully embraced it, fully embodied it yet. And so he waited, too, as the campfire popped and crackled contentedly to itself.

First five chapters