Starlight Clay Collective

Join Pip, Luma & Moss near the fire in Mossglass Hollow - where every reader helps choose what happens next ✨

[Starlight Clay Collective @StarlightClayCo]

The Chair Beside the Ember — Part Two

The blue light slipped away from the chair and drifted toward the pond.

Pip followed at once—though not so quickly that anyone could accuse him of hurrying. Luma came beside him, carrying the lantern, while Moss remained near the fire for three full seconds before sighing, collecting his mug, and following after them.

“Someone ought to stay with the cocoa,” he muttered. “But apparently the cocoa has shown better judgment than the rest of us.”

The light bobbed over the path, weaving between smooth stones and moonflowers. Wherever it passed, the flowers opened their pale petals, though they usually slept until morning. Pip felt the comfortable warmth of the campfire fading behind him, and for a moment he wondered whether following had been brave—or merely foolish in a knitted hat.

Then Luma slipped her hand into his.

“Curious things are less frightening when someone is curious with you,” she said.

At the edge of the pond, the light stopped above a patch of reeds. Pip knelt and carefully parted them.

Beneath the leaves sat a tiny silver boat, no longer than Moss’s paw. A blue lantern glowed at its bow, and inside lay a folded scrap of paper tied with green thread.

Moss leaned closer. “That,” he said, “is either a message or a very small laundry delivery.”

Pip lifted the note gently. On the front, in faint silver writing, were five words:

For the one who leaves room.

Behind them, far across the Hollow, the empty chair creaked.

Then the little boat began to drift away from the shore.

What should Pip do?

A. Open the mysterious note before the boat disappears.

B. Climb into the little boat and see where it leads.

[Starlight Clay Collective @StarlightClayCo]

In Mossglass Hollow, one chair was always left empty beside the fire.

No one could quite agree who had begun the custom. Moss insisted it was older than the campers, older than the pond, and possibly older than his left boot—which was saying something, because the boot had survived three floods, one runaway wheelbarrow, and a most unfortunate blackberry pudding.

The chair stood just beyond the brightest reach of the flames, where the amber light softened into blue evening. Its wooden arms were smooth from years of weather and waiting. Beside it sat a small lantern, always trimmed, though no one could remember ever seeing it lit.

That night, the aurora moved slowly above the Hollow, green and violet ribbons drifting across the stars. Pip knelt near the fire, carefully turning the final ember with a crooked little poker. Luma sat cross-legged on a blanket, holding a mug of moonmint cocoa beneath her chin so the steam curled around her antennae.

Moss had settled into his usual place and was performing the sort of deep, thoughtful silence that looked suspiciously like sleep.

Then Luma stopped mid-sip.

“Pip,” she whispered. “There’s something underneath the chair.”

A pale blue light blinked beneath the wooden seat.

Once.

Twice.

Then the empty chair gave the tiniest shiver.

Moss opened one eye.

“Well,” he said, lowering his mug, “that’s new.”

Pip stepped closer. The grass around the chair glittered as though someone had scattered frost over it, though the evening was warm. From somewhere below came a delicate metallic sound—

click.

Like a key turning inside a lock very far away.

The blue light began to move toward the pond.

What should Pip do?

A. Ask Moss what he knows about the empty chair.

B. Follow the blue light before it disappears.

Editor’s note: The story continues tomorrow. Reply with A or B to help decide what happens next in Mossglass Hollow. ✨