Welcome,
My dear friend.
My name is Jacob Evans,
And it's an honor to share this story with you tonight.
This is a tale inspired by ancient Amazonian legend,
An old whisper of the forest that speaks of hope and the lights that gods once gifted to the world.
Long ago,
When the earth was still young,
There came a night unlike any before it.
A night when the gods looked down upon the darkness and decided it was time to scatter their light.
They say that from the fires of the sky,
The first embers were released,
Falling like a line of tiny stars into the waiting trees.
And where those embers touched the earth,
They awoke as living lights,
Soft,
Golden creatures who would walk the shadows beside humankind,
So that no heart would ever again be truly alone.
On that night,
A girl named Yara stood beneath the ancient Ciba trees,
Her path lost to the dark.
But when she called out to the sky,
The embers answered,
Gathering around her in a dance of gentle promise.
It was the first time the fireflies came to the world,
Carrying the hope of the gods in their quiet glow.
As the hush of the forest settles around you,
May you remember that even in the deepest darkness,
There are lights waiting to guide you home.
You have done enough for today,
Truly,
It is enough.
Close your eyes now,
And let the embers find you as you drift slowly into this story.
When the last light slipped behind the great Ciba trees,
Yara felt the darkness pressing against her skin.
She clutched her woven basket of kapok pods,
Her heart fluttering like a trapid bird.
All day,
She had wandered deeper than ever before,
Searching for the soft white fibers her grandmother used to weave sleeping mats.
She hadn't noticed how quickly the shadows gathered until the path vanished beneath her feet.
Now,
Every tree seemed to lean closer,
Their roots rising like great ribs from the earth.
Overhead,
The sky darkened to indigo,
And the first cold stars flickered high above.
She turned in a slow circle,
Searching for any sign.
A crooked branch,
A hollow trunk,
But nothing revealed itself.
A hush grew among the trunks,
So deep it made her feel she was the only living thing left in the world.
She closed her eyes and pressed her hand to her chest,
Trying to calm her breath.
In her mind,
She spoke words she had never dared to say aloud.
Tupa,
Spirit of the sky,
If you can hear me,
Please show me the way.
A wind stirred the leaves overhead,
And the air grew still and cool.
For a heartbeat,
She wondered if she had only imagined the hush that had fallen around her.
But then,
High above,
Something bright flickered in the darkness.
Yara opened her eyes,
Hardly daring to hope.
Another spark joined the first,
Then another,
Until dozens of tiny lights appeared,
Scattered among the highest branches.
At first,
She thought they must be embers,
Drifting on some secret wind.
But no scent of fire reached her.
The lights floated lower,
Slow and steady,
Like tiny stars falling from the sky.
She had never seen creatures like these,
Their bellies shining with a glow that was neither flame nor moonlight.
One drifted closer,
Hovering in front of her face.
Its glow pulsed gently,
Steady as a heartbeat.
Yara felt something loosen in her chest,
An understanding she could not name.
An understanding she couldn't name.
She reached out her hand,
And the creature's light grew brighter,
As if it recognized her.
The little being hovered before her,
Bright and silent.
Its glow washed over her hands and the woven basket,
Painting the darkness in soft golden hues.
Yara held her breath,
Feeling a hush inside herself,
As if some hidden door had opened between the world she knew and something vaster.
In that quiet,
A voice rose,
Not spoken out loud,
But sounding within her bones.
We are the embers of the gods.
Her heart stumbled in her chest.
She had never heard words inside her like this,
Never felt her skin warm to a presence so gentle.
She parted her lips,
Though she didn't know if she would be understood.
Why have you come?
The sky spirits looked down and saw your fear.
The voice answered,
Each word ringing like a clear drop of water.
Long ago,
Before memory,
We were hidden in their fires.
But tonight,
They have opened their hands and sent us into the world.
So no heart would be left alone.
In the dark,
Yara pressed her fingertips to her lips,
As if to hold the wonder there.
Around her,
The others drifted lower,
Their light mingling until the space between the trees shone as bright as dawn.
It was as though the stars themselves had left their places to walk among the roots and vines.
She swallowed her throat tight.
Will you help me find the river?
My village is beyond it.
Yes,
The firefly told her,
Its glow pulsing in time with her heartbeat.
We will guide you.
This is the first night of our walking.
From this night on,
When the dark becomes heavy,
We will return to shine the path.
Slowly,
The fireflies turned,
Drifting away into the trees.
Yara took a trembling step after it,
Then another.
The others rose and fell in the air.
Forming a moving ribbon of light.
With each step,
She followed.
The fear that had clenched her loosened,
Replaced by something she could only call trust.
They led her between towering trunks and over tangled roots.
The hush of the forest changed.
What had seemed like emptiness now felt full.
Full of watching.
Full of listening and quiet care.
A breeze moved through the canopy,
Carrying the smell of wet leaves and distant river water.
She knew then,
Without needing to ask,
That she was no longer lost.
Step by step,
Yara followed the drifting lights.
The fireflies moved in slow arcs through the shadows.
Gathering in the hollows between roots and rising again like a breath returning to the sky.
Every place they passed was softened by their glow.
Leaves turned silver.
Moss gleamed with hidden patterns.
And small blossoms open as if to greet the gentle warmth.
The path wound deeper into the trees before rising toward a ridge.
When she reached the crest,
She felt her heart lift in her chest.
There,
Spread out beneath the moon,
Lay the river.
Its surface shone like a ribbon of molten metal.
Winding its way,
Winding away into the endless dark.
The sight made her throat ache with relief.
She had never known the river could look so beautiful.
Nor that finding her way home could feel so much like a blessing.
The fireflies slowed,
Circling her in a patient dance.
The one who had spoken huffered closest,
As if it wished to linger.
She reached out her hand,
And it settled lightly against her palm.
Its tiny feet felt like nothing at all.
She could feel its warmth more as an understanding than a touch.
Thank you,
She whispered.
I will never forget you.
Nor will we forget you,
The small voice replied.
This is the beginning.
We will walk in the darkness for all who come after you.
When fear closes in,
Our embers will light the way.
Yara closed her eyes.
For a moment,
She felt she could see through the creature's glow into something vaster.
A sky full of stars,
Each carrying a promise waiting to be kept.
When she opened her eyes again,
The firefly had lifted from her hand.
Together,
The lights began to rise,
Drifting upward into the canopy.
She watched them go,
Their glow blending into the scattered stars above.
For a heartbeat,
The boundary between earth and sky dissolved.
And she felt the truth of it in her bones.
The gods had not only answered her,
But given their gift to all who would ever need it.
At last,
She turned toward the river,
Her basket of kapok resting on her hip.
The night no longer seemed empty or cold.
She knew the way home now.
And she knew that she would never again be truly alone.
And so,
When the darkness grows heavy,
It is said the embers will return.
Look for their lights.
For as long as hope burns,
The fireflies will find you.
