The Last Beacon
Many of the towers in the Ring of Light offer a way home - they guide the lost and the wandering, whether at sea, deep within the Dream, or even lost souls who seek the solace of the underworld. In the most common refrain of “The Lighthouse Song,” the opening lines are: “Each beacon is a promise / of Harbor and of Home.” But this is not strictly true. There is one beacon that offers no such promise - for it burns for those whose homes are gone beyond retrieval. It is the Last Beacon, and it shines for the Homeless.
Most people never see the Last Beacon. Though it is part of the Ring of Light, it also stands apart. Its glow cannot be seen from the nearest towers, and ships may pass it by without notice. But those who seek it will find it - somewhere north of the vanishing island of Buyan. Some believe it a myth, yet it stands: a memorial flame for all the homes lost to time and tragedy.
The Last Beacon welcomes those who cannot join the crowd - those unmoored by grief. Sometimes, a home isn't a place at all - it's a person, a community, or a holiday no longer celebrated. And sometimes, it is irreplaceable. The Keepers of the Last Beacon do not try to build a new home for the homeless. Instead, they acknowledge the loss and offer a place to stay among those who understand. Some who come to the lighthouse find healing. Others never leave - or choose to go quietly, with dignity, guided by the care and comprehension of those who remain.
Most importantly, the Keepers of the Lighthouse listen - and remember. They hear the stories of the homeless, the bereft, and the lost. They listen to what made each home special and irreplaceable: a smile, the twinkle of stars, the scent of spring. These recollections are recorded, taught to future Keepers, and held with reverence - so that the memories of lost homes are not themselves lost, and the dreams of cherished places never die.
Most people will never see the Last Beacon - and that is a mercy. Every visitor is a refugee from a shattered world, a life broken beyond repair. Perhaps one day there will be none left for whom the last lighthouse shines. Or perhaps it will remain, a memorial for all the world, when everything else has faded into darkness.
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This article was originally written for Spooktober 2024. You can find all of my Spooktober Articles at Spooktober Central.
This article was originally written for Spooktober 2023. You can find all of my Spooktober Articles at Spooktober Central.
I love the way you wrote this. This reads as if it could be both a factual place and structure, or, perhaps more in a vein of both horror and in some dark way comfort, perhaps more....spiritual and allegorical, as if 'lost' ships are dead ships, the souls of those whom simply were lost at sea. I have no doubt the structure exists of course, yet....I find myself wondering is it fully.....material. Is it fully of this realm? Or is it perhaps a beacon of the inbetween, guidance to those whom need it to pass on/over etc. That might be over analyzing the stylization of the way you wrote and narrated this, however that imagery creeps in a bit as you read of this structure and the lore about it. I like it very much, certainly tucking this into my collection, well written Demon!
I’m glad you enjoyed it! Your analysis is wonderful, and I’m glad that’s the way the article feels. The way belief and imagination interacts with the physical world is a major theme of the Million Islands, so you picked on exactly the themes and mood I tried to include. Thank you so much for reading and commenting!