The day had faded earlier as winter neared. Night had come round as the hour neared six yet the lights of one house out in the country still continued to glow and cut through the setting darkness, but that wasn't even visible to neighbors that weren't there and houses spread afar into the country.
The owner of the home stayed inside, curled up under a wool blanket he had received from his deceased brother-in-law years before. This man was quite old, but he kept healthy by working outside in the pasture where cattle roamed lazily. He glanced up at the stone that was bought for him for his seventy-seventh birthday—just another day to him—that sat upon the mantel on the fireplace.
The flames seemed to retract from the rock, keeping it in shadow, but the streaks that ran through its black surface still shown in different shades and odd colors. Smiling contentedly to himself, the senior brought his eyes away to the fire that burned brightly under the stone.
His granddaughter bought the gift for him, despite how odd it seemed, and to his own surprise, the man loved this present. He remembered the birthday like the first snow of his own life; the most important thing to his heart and mind.
Jillian was only fifteen then and was busy with school, but she took the time to find a gift and give it to him. She explained that it was from an antique shop for a high price, but they had given in and let her buy it with the money she had saved up for a field trip she never went to.
"The man there was uneasy about this, sure." Jill tilted her head, a guileless smile; as if trying to keep her grandfather from worrying about her intuition or some such. It didn't help, but the old man couldn't help but smile in return. "But it was such an interesting object so I-"
"But why'dya have to spend so much money on just this...stone?" he heard himself interject. The man knew this hurt his grand-baby, but she soon smiled again, a more serious smile.
Jillian then replied in a soft murmur, "Because I love you." She pushed the stone into his hands and it was unbearably cold, but the old man held it still, staring down at its stripped surface. "I can trust you with this, right?" Jill frowned now, worry drowning the blue in her eyes to a gray.
Her grandfather nodded, chuckling out of habit. "Yes, of course, Jilly." Her genuine smile returned.
"One thing before I go." She became grave once more and her bright face didn't come back. "Don't let it crack or break, that means no cleaning it, Grandpa." Jillian emphasized this with a wagging finger, making the man's smile turn to a foolish grin.
She soon continued, "The man at the shop said that this stone can grant you anything you want; money, power...anything."
"How is this possible?"
Jill frowned at his laughing. "Some people might not believe...in what the gift they receive. But smiles can turn to dust...and the gift will lose your trust."
He still didn't understand such a poem, but he didn't think much of it. Chuckling once more at this memory, the old man shook his head at the stone, soon standing to place it in his hands.
This man knew that wishes and magic in stones weren't real. They only existed in fairy tales. And he made sure of it by wishing for his brother to return from the grave.
He had yet to come, and the man laughed at this now...he had for days that turned to months. Setting the stone back down on the mantel, his face falling when he heard a knock at the door.
The old man, muttering and grumbling about how late it was, pulled his robe around himself tight and reached for his cane before trudging to the front door.
"Yes, yes, who is it?" A man around his own age stood there in the dark. The man knew this figure all too well, and it scared him a bit. "S-Sean?"
The shadow of his deceased brother held something in both hands, maybe a weapon of some kind. He soon turned and started to walk off. The old man ran out after him, calling his brother's name frantically.