Lantern crafting

Resonance sat on the warm carpeted floor of her little hut, tools and bits of glass scattered all around her. The place was a mess, but she didn’t care - it was all part of her creative process. The small window above her let in the last bit of evening light, soft and golden, and it spilled across the half-finished lantern in front of her. It didn’t look like much yet—just some silver wire and a few panels of baby blue glass—but in her head, she could already see it. The stars, the glow. The way it would feel like it was alive.

She sighed, flicking her ear in contempt. This whole thing had started out as just an idea, a random thought she’d had one night when she couldn’t sleep, but it just felt so perfect for the Rite of the Reef. Resonance always felt like there was too much inside her—too many thoughts, too many feelings. Like she was carrying a whole universe in her chest. And no one ever really saw it. Not that she blamed them. She wasn’t exactly the loudest ruptour in the room. Most people just thought she was quiet, or maybe just a little odd. But this lantern… this was her way of showing it. Of showing her.

She picked up one of the baby-blue glass panels she’d cut with her tail earlier, holding it up to the light. It wasn’t perfect. There was a small crack near the edge, and the shape was a little uneven. For a second, she thought about cutting a new one, but then she shrugged. It felt right, in a way—the imperfections. She wasn’t perfect either, and honestly? She didn’t wanna be, making the lantern all the more special.

Carefully, she held the glass in place against the silver frame, one paw steadying it while the other used the smoking hot torch. The metal hissed softly, a little puff of smoke curling up, and she smiled to herself. One piece down. A couple more to go.

Time slipped away as she worked. The room got darker and darker, but she barely noticed. She added the rest of the glass panels, each one catching the last bits of sunlight and shimmering like water in the tide. The blue was so deep, it almost looked alive, like it could swallow you whole.

When the panels were done, she reached for the tiny pieces she’d made earlier: little stars, moons, comets, all carved out of scraps of gold and crystals. She started placing them on the glass, her paws fumbling a little because she was so tired. The constellations she made didn’t really mean anything—they were just familiar constellations she had seen before, patterns that felt… hers. A shooting star here, a little galaxy there.

When she finally finished, the room was pitch black except for the lantern. She placed a small candle inside, struck a match, and lit it. The glow was soft and warm, but the way it cast stars and galaxies across the walls? It was magic. She sat back, staring at it, her chest suddenly tight in a way she couldn’t explain.

It wasn’t just a lantern. It was her. It was everything she couldn’t put into words. This was it, this lantern would be the perfect piece of her to set off into the endless sea for the Rite.