Aurin had walked for a long time. The path was older than the trees, and the trees were older than the village. In Aurin's hand, a small lantern glowed — not bright, but steady.
At a fork in the road, Aurin met a traveller. The traveller carried a beautiful lamp, much larger and louder than Aurin's. Coloured light spilled from it in every direction.
"Yours is so small," the traveller said. "How can you see anything at all?"
Aurin smiled. "I do not need to see everything," Aurin said. "I only need to see the next step."
They walked together for a while. The traveller's lamp was magnificent. It lit up trees, rocks, and distant hills. But it also threw long shadows that confused the path.
Aurin's lantern lit only a small circle. But inside that circle, the ground was honest.
After many hours, the traveller's lamp grew tired and went out. The traveller sat down, suddenly afraid.
Aurin sat beside them, lifted the lantern, and said, "You do not need a bigger light. You need a closer one. Stay near me. We will go slowly. One step is enough."
And so they walked — not fast, not far, but together — and the small steady light was, in the end, more than enough.