Lights Will Guide You Novels & Stories

Together we both exit. Atticus pioneers ahead with the flashlight from his phone to guide the way. I switch on my own and my wrist sways from left to right, the probing light interrogates the darkness. Daunted, it flees from the dual funnels of light, expanding the spread the further we trek. I sneak frequent looks off my shoulder. The void of darkness pursues, black swaths that cling to our backs, prowling like an ethereal creature.

“Father? Must you leave again so soon?” “I must,” he replied, his voice growing fainter. “But fear not, my sweet girl. I shall be with you always.” “But how will I know the way back home?” she asked, becoming more frantic as her father began to dissipate into a thousand twinkling stars. “Follow the light,” he replied, faintly. “Follow the light?” she repeated. “Follow the light…. Follow the light….” “Serendipity? Serendipity!”

There was only one way to find out. “Illuminati verdus,” she said again, this time picturing a light above her hand that was about the brightness of the ceiling light in her room. The glow that floated above her palm was softer this time, but it still cast enough illumination to brighten the ground for maybe ten feet in each direction. “Follow me, please,” she said to Rave as she began walking toward the edge of the clearing. The light remained sharp and clear as she entered the trees, easily providing enough visibility for her to thread her way through the trunks and overhanging branches, and even to avoid the tangled roots which sometimes poked through the packed dirt.

“I can’t hear you. But if you hear me, follow the light. It will guide you back to the outside world.” As if summoned by her words, a pale blue glow shimmered through the fog, cutting a path between the twisted trunks. It pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat waiting to be followed. I adjusted Abriel in my arms—still fast asleep—and rose. “Come on,” I whispered. Gabriel stood slowly beside me, his limp pronounced, but his eyes sharp with determination. Together, we stepped toward the light, one careful stride after another, until it swallowed us whole. The fog tore away.

He’s in the cargo bay with the Stone, riding in the belly of the beast. "Thermal scan, coming from the south. Two minutes out." "Kill the lights," I order. We’re plunging through the forest in absolute darkness, guided only by the occasional flash of lightning and memory. "Charlie, I can't see," Kaleb hisses, tapping the brakes. "Don't stop," I say, leaning forward, pressing my hand against the cold glass. "I know this trail. Straight for twenty yards. Then a sharp hairpin right around the old oak. Trust me."

May we all remember that no matter how long the night may seem. Even the smallest light can guide someone home.

"Will you help us?" The Guardian of Light regarded them for a moment, its form pulsating with an ethereal glow. Then, with a nod, it extended a hand toward the darkness, sending forth a wave of pure energy that dispersed the shadows like mist before the sun. "Go," it said, its voice gentle yet commanding. "You have my blessing."

The sensation was disorienting, like walking through the ghost of a place she once knew but couldn’t quite remember. There was a faint light up ahead, flickering like a distant beacon in the fog. It was the only source of brightness in this otherwise dark world, and Lyra felt herself drawn to it. She moved forward, her feet almost moving on their own as if some invisible force was guiding her. The light seemed to call to her, urging her onward through the winding streets of Nyxterra.

"May the original light guide your way." After Rowan departs, we activate the crypt's secret entrance, revealing the tunnel staircase. With one last look at the world above, we descend into darkness, embarking on the final leg of our journey toward the Convergence—and whatever fate awaits us when the stars align.

Kale held a flashlight in his free hand to guide the way, but he never once let go of me. “Where are you taking me?” I asked again, a small laugh slipping out despite myself as I watched him push a low branch out of the way for me. “You’ll see.” After about ten minutes of walking, the trees slowly began to thin out. And then— I gasped. Lights. Hundreds of them. String lights crisscrossed above a narrow street, glowing warm and golden against the deep blue evening sky. Beneath them was a bustling market that stretched farther than I could see.