Once upon a time there was a little boy named Tom. He lived in a cozy cottage on the edge of the Great Dark Woods, with his grandfather, a retired stovesmith.
One day, as Grandpa opened an old storybook, he pointed to a picture of a silver stove, rust-free and gleaming like a mirror.
“Do you see this, Tom? That’s the Stainless Stove,” Grandpa whispered mysteriously. “Inside lives a dragon that guards the Eternal Fire. Without that fire, all the stoves in the world would grow cold.”
Tom’s eyes glittered with curiosity. He loved fire—the crackle, the warmth, the orange dancing flames. And a dragon? That sounded like an adventure!
That night, Tom crept stealthily out of bed, armed with a wooden sword, a helmet made from an old pot, and a lunchbox full of cookies. He followed the path through the Great Dark Woods, where the trees whispered and owls watched him. After hours of walking, he came to a round hill, just like in Grandpa’s book.
With a pounding heart, Tom pushed open the heavy iron door. Inside, it was warm—not just warm, but magically warm. In the middle of the room stood the Stainless Steel Stove, shining like the moon. And in front of the stove… lay a huge, coiled dragon.
The dragon wasn’t what Tom had expected. Not a scaly nightmare, but an elegant, silvery glow with eyes like fiery coals.
“Who dares disturb the fire?” the dragon growled languidly, his breath puffing out sparks.
“I’m Tom! And I… I want to know why you guard the fire,” he said bravely, his wooden sword trembling in his hand.
The dragon laughed softly. “The Eternal Fire is fragile. It must burn without hate, without jealousy. Only children of pure hearts may see it. You’ve come with courage—and cookies. Do you have one for me?”
Tom nodded and handed the dragon a chocolate cookie. While the dragon feasted, Tom walked over to the stove. In the window, he saw no ordinary flame, but a fire sparkling in colors he’d never seen before—blue, gold, and something like dreams.
“Will you help protect the fire?” the dragon asked suddenly.
Tom nodded without hesitation.
“Then I’ll give you this,” said the dragon, tapping Tom’s wooden sword with a claw. It began to glow with a soft, warm glow. “Not to fight, but to bring light where it’s dark.”
Then everything went hazy. Tom woke up in his bed, his helmet on his head and crumbs in his pocket. Was it a dream?
But when he looked at the fire, a tiny flame flickered, briefly turning blue and gold.
Once upon a time there was a little boy named Tom. He lived in a cozy cottage on the edge of the Great Dark Woods, with his grandfather, a retired stovesmith.
One day, as Grandpa opened an old storybook, he pointed to a picture of a silver stove, rust-free and gleaming like a mirror.
“Do you see this, Tom? That’s the Stainless Stove,” Grandpa whispered mysteriously. “Inside lives a dragon that guards the Eternal Fire. Without that fire, all the stoves in the world would grow cold.”
Tom’s eyes glittered with curiosity. He loved fire—the crackle, the warmth, the orange dancing flames. And a dragon? That sounded like an adventure!
That night, Tom crept stealthily out of bed, armed with a wooden sword, a helmet made from an old pot, and a lunchbox full of cookies. He followed the path through the Great Dark Woods, where the trees whispered and owls watched him. After hours of walking, he came to a round hill, just like in Grandpa’s book.
With a pounding heart, Tom pushed open the heavy iron door. Inside, it was warm—not just warm, but magically warm. In the middle of the room stood the Stainless Steel Stove, shining like the moon. And in front of the stove… lay an enormous, coiled dragon.
The dragon wasn’t what Tom had expected. Not a scaly nightmare, but an elegant, silvery glow with eyes like fiery coals.
“Who dares disturb the fire?” the dragon growled languidly, his breath like clouds of sparks.
“I’m Tom! And I… I want to know why you guard the fire,” he said bravely, his wooden sword trembling in his hand.
The dragon laughed softly. “The Eternal Fire is fragile. It must burn without hatred, without jealousy.”
Tom asked, “Can’t the fire burn on bio ethanol? Then you wouldn’t have to guard it anymore.” The dragon said, “Don’t be foolish. Only children of pure heart may see it. You have come with courage—and cookies. Do you have one for me?”
Tom nodded and gave the dragon a chocolate cookie. While the dragon feasted, Tom walked to the stove. In the window, he saw not an ordinary flame, but a fire sparkling in colors he had never seen before—blue, gold, and something like dreams.
“Will you help protect the fire?” the dragon asked suddenly.
Tom nodded without hesitation.
“Then I’ll give you this,” said the dragon, tapping Tom’s wooden sword with a claw. It began to glow with a soft, warm glow. “Not to fight, but to bring light where it is dark.”
Then everything went hazy. Tom woke up in his bed, his helmet on his head and crumbs in his pocket. Was it a dream?
But when he looked at the fire, a tiny flame flickered, briefly turning blue and gold.
And from that day on, Tom knew: he wasn’t just a boy. He was a Keeper of the Eternal Fire.
A week after his encounter with the dragon, Tom sat at the kitchen table, his sword of light in his lap. Grandpa was making hot chocolate when he asked,
“Tom, you’ve been so quiet these days. Are you okay?”
Tom hesitated. “Grandpa… What if I’m not worthy of the fire? What if I make a mistake and it goes out?”
Grandpa put down the mugs and looked straight at Tom. “Every guardian has doubts sometimes, boy. But do you know what keeps the fire burning? Not strength, but kindness. And you’re the kindest boy I know.”
That night, Tom dreamed of a cold wind trying to extinguish the Eternal Fire. He saw himself standing in the stove room, his sword burning like a small sun. The wind whispered ominous things:
“You’re too small. Too weak. You don’t belong here.”
But Tom gripped his sword with both hands and said, “I may be small, but I never give up.” And the fire grew—stronger than ever.
When he woke up, he no longer felt insecure.
One cold evening, the fire in their hearth suddenly began to crackle strangely. Grandpa frowned.
“That’s not normal fire behavior,” he muttered. “Tom, could you look in the chimney?”
Tom climbed up with his helmet and sword. At the top, among the soot and stone, he saw something strange: a gray, wobbling shadow clinging to the smoke.
“Who are you?” Tom called out.
The shadow hissed: “I am Aslik, born of forgotten hearths and old rust. I want to extinguish the Eternal Fire, so that the world becomes colder—silent—without light.”
Tom leaped into action without thinking. His sword shone, and the light made the shadow hiss in pain.
But Aslik fled to the clouds, crying: “This isn’t over yet, Watcher!”
Tom knew now: he had an enemy.
A few days later, Tom was awakened by a soft voice. “Wake up, Guardian.”
The dragon stood by his bedside, in a miniature form—the size of a cat—and beckoned him.
“It is time for you to meet the Council of Sparks,” said the dragon. He breathed a circle of fire into the air, and together they stepped through.
Tom found himself in an underground chamber, full of small beings of fire, smoke, and light. Some wore glasses, others long asbestos coats. In the center sat an old flame with eyes full of wisdom.
“Tom,” said the old flame, “the world holds many dangers. You have protected the fire, but now you must learn to spread it.”
“Spread it?” asked Tom.
“Warmth is not just for yourself,” said the dragon. “Whoever guards the Eternal Fire must also learn to share it. With words. With actions. With courage.”
Tom swallowed. That sounded… difficult.
But he nodded.
“I want to try.”
The old flame reached out to Tom with a waving, warm hand and placed something in his palm: a small, glowing spark, no bigger than a pea.
“This is a Spark of Friendship,” the flame said softly. “Give it to someone who is cold inside. Not everyone has a stove, Tom, but everyone needs warmth.”
Tom looked at the spark. He felt its power—soft, yet strong. Not a fire for fighting, but for healing.
The dragon smiled. “Your first mission, Guardian.”
With a flash, Tom returned to his bedroom. He sat upright in bed, the spark still in his hand. Outside, the rain fell softly on the roof.
The next morning, he put on his coat and stepped outside, searching for someone who needed his fire. Under a bridge by the stream, he found a girl, shivering under a thin blanket. She looked up with frightened eyes.
Without a word, Tom knelt, opened his hand, and held the spark out to her.
The spark slipped from his hand and lodged itself in the girl’s heart. Her eyes filled with light. She smiled for the first time in a long time.
And in that moment, Tom knew:
He wasn’t just a Keeper of the Eternal Fire…
He was a Bringer of Warmth.