The Lightkeeper's Duty
In a quaint little seaside town at the edge of the world, far in the north of Norway, there was a lighthouse lovingly known as 'The Eye of the Dragon'. Standing straight like an old soldier, it had kept watch over the icy Norwegian seas for a hundred years. Ross, our protagonist, was the resident lighthouse keeper. He was a shouldered man, slightly stooped with age, but had eyes that gleamed sharp and bright.
Ross was not the first in his family to hold this position. The task of maintaining the 'Eye of the Dragon' was carried out diligently by the lighthouse keepers from Ross's family, one after the other, generation after generation. Ross liked to think that the sea, the lighthouse, and his family had an intimate bond that remained untainted by time and thundering waves.
A prodigious responsibility rested on Ross; he had to keep the lamps burning incessantly regardless of the upshots. For lighthouse keepers, the light was a beacon of hope, a beacon of life that stopped seafarers from crushing against the treacherous rocks lurking beneath the ocean's surface. The guiding light was a loud proclamation that Ross had to make every night: 'Life is here. This way, seafarers.'
But, unlike in the past, the world outside had since evolved into an entirely different landscape to what Ross had always known. Ships now had modern navigation technologies that somewhat dimmed the significance of lighthouses. But Ross stood undeterred, he knew the importance of tradition, the noble work passed down by his ancestors, and the sacred bond his family shared with 'The Eye of the Dragon'.
One summer evening, a demonic storm began brewing over the horizon. The jarring cacophony of thunder echoed into the night, drowning even the sounds of the crashing waves. Amidst the chaos of nature, Ross could feel his heart pounding with equal fervor. He climbed the spiraling staircase, each creak and groan from the old lighthouse echoing his sense of urgency. He knew the beacon had to shine brighter and stronger that night.
At the top, staring at the raging tempest outside, Ross carefully tended to the lamps, ensuring they burned brightly, casting a radiant beam out to the turbulent sea. Hours passed, waves gushed and crashed, winds howled, the night felt like an eternity yet, the 'Eye of the Dragon’ gleamed fiercely, refusing to bow down before the ferocious storm.
As morning descended and the storm receded, Ross, weary and worn, came down from the lighthouse to an unexpected sight. A ship was moored at the bay, safe and intact. A group of sailors jaunted towards him. They hugged Ross, expressing their gratitude. Despite their hi-tech navigational gadgets, the relentless storm had caused havoc with their systems, and it was the beacon from the 'Eye of the Dragon' that had guided them safely.
Ross looked at them, his fatigue replaced by a sense of fulfillment as he realized his light had indeed led them home. His devotion, his purpose was validated. That day, the old lighthouse keeper stood a little taller, his shoulders no longer slouched as he soaked in the seafarers' grateful words. His lighthouse was not obsolete, the world had just forgotten its real value. The 'Eye of the Dragon', he proudly realised, still had the power to guide lost souls on the tumultuous journey of life.
Ross's tale serves as a reminder for us to revere and preserve our old traditions, understand their significance and draw lessons when the world is engrossed in chasing modernism. For modern technology can falter and fail, but the beacon of tradition shines eternally, guiding those who are willing to follow.