Year thirty-one of the Firefolk Era, Frost's Descent.
A He set out.
He no longer lived in Cold Ridge City, no longer tended a stove, no longer remained merely the sickly child saved by the lights of ten thousand homes. He carried an old wooden chest on his back. Inside lay neither gold nor jade, only a paper lantern, a scroll of surviving pages from the "Record of Hearthfire," a packet of okra seeds, and a box of hearth ashes—all tokens of the Heart Flames of the people of the Nine Provinces.
He called himself a "Wandering Lantern-Bearer." He belonged to no Starfire Hall, joined no Council of Elders, carried no talisman or writ. He carried only a lantern.
He traveled through the Nine Provinces, ferrying those whose Heart Flames were about to die.
Someone lay sick in bed, silent for three days, beyond the help of medicine. A He arrived, neither taking a pulse nor applying a needle. He merely lit a paper lantern beside the bed and said softly, "I've come to light a lantern." The lantern burned, its light no bigger than a bean, yet as warm as spring sunshine. The patient suddenly opened their eyes and murmured, "I... can smell food." The next day, they could actually leave their bed.
An old woman lived alone in a desolate village. All her children were dead, her heart was cold ash, and she refused to eat. A He arrived without words of persuasion. He simply lit the stove, cooked a bowl of okra porridge, set it on the table, and lit a lantern. "If you won't eat for yourself, take a mouthful for the Lamp Guarder." Tears streamed down the old woman's face. She cradled the bowl and ate. Three days later, she went outside to sweep the