On the brink of the sea stood an antique lighthouse in a little town where cobblestone paths curled between clusters of houses and roofs slanted like soft waves. For as long as anybody could remember, its golden light has been there, leading wayward sailors gently to land. Few people, however, realized that the lighthouse was kept alive by a man called Elias, the Lantern Keeper; it was not only composed of bricks and glass. Elias had spent as long as the village chiefs could remember living in the lighthouse. He seldom visited town; he only dropped down for groceries or fresh bread. Some said he had always been there, as much of the lighthouse as the waves were a part of the sea. Others murmured that he had previously been a visitor from far-off countries never leaving. But Elias never told; none knew his tale. One evening Mira, a little child, found herself straying close to the lighthouse as a storm developed from the horizon. She had always been enthralled by the illumination of the lighthouse; she liked the water, the way it screamed and murmured at once. Curiosity drove her up the worn stone stairs that evening past the ancient wooden door and into the tower's core. Books, maps, and unusual glass bottles glistened like caught moonlight crowded within the lighthouse.