Why was it always in the evening that the village well was busted.

 

Helen needed water for her soup, but without the village well her only option for water was the well outside town. It wasn't a long walk per se, but it would be nearly dark by the time she got there, and being outside the village after dark was a good way to end up dead or worse. On the other hand, her only non-soup options for dinner were raw meat and vegetables.

 

After a long minute of weighing her options, she groaned in frustration and turned toward the village gate. She was not going to be denied her soup.

 

This was a stupid idea. It was completely dark save for the soft blue glow on the western horizon, which was mostly obscured by trees anyway. Helen prayed to whatever gods would listen as she wheeled her bucket back up, when she caught an odd reflection in the water. There was a strange light behind and above her, pulsing gently and shifting back and forth from purple to pink. She removed her water bucket and turned to examine it; the source seemed to be a gentle, floating wisp of flame, flickering in the autumn breeze.

 

Helen started toward the strange light, and it receded in turn. Helen stopped, and it stopped. She thought for a moment; this was obviously something magical, and that it happened during the twilight implied the involvement of fey. On the other hand, it was very pretty, and surely it wouldn't hurt to get a closer look. Maybe it would stop receding at some point.

 

After a long minute of weighing her options, she sighed and resolved to walk closer to the light. It receded, as she expected, and continued to move as she did.

 

Helen wasn't sure how long she'd been following the dancing light. It was truly dark by now, but the gentle flame lit the way for her. She'd found that the longer she followed, the easier it became just to keep following it. She'd had some reservations earlier, but those fears had drifted away. Now, she felt safe and content. The light would keep her safe.

 

As she walked further, she found herself unable to look away from the dancing, bobbing flame. The way it flickered in the breeze, the way it pulsed in brightness, the way its colors slowly changed from one to another, pink to purple, warm to cold...

 

In spite of the way the light had captivated her, she had yet to be inconvenienced by her lack of attention to the path. She knew as if by instinct when to step higher, reach forward to climb, and brace for a decline. The light made sure of her safety.

 

Time had started to lose meaning. Helen wasn't sure what she was doing before the light had appeared, but it probably wasn't important. Best just to follow it.

 

After a timeless aeon of walking through the deep woods, the light reached a short tree, trunk standing about ten feet tall and splitting into a pair of offshoots bearing most of its foliage. For once, the light receded up instead of back. Helen lazily found her way up the base of the tree until she got as high as she could. The light split into two lights, which split into four, each flickering and pulsing and changing color to its own rhythm and dancing around the others.

 

Helen stared into the display, and felt herself sink. The lights continued to dance and sway and pulse, and her eyes lidded and struggled to remain open as her mind sank deeper and deeper into mindlessness and peace. She was dimly aware of two sturdy arms hugging her, and the form of the tree she'd climbed morphing below her gaze, but none of that was important. The last thing she remembered aside from the lights was a soft hand on her head and a gentle reassurance that everything was going to be okay from now on.