In deep ravines, where the spring sun glimmers only for a moment, grows a wondrous plant resembling a lily of the valley—the Forest Lantern. Its leaves and stem are unremarkable, but instead of white bells, tiny glowing buds sway on it, as if cast from moonlight silver and captured sunbeams.
Whoever picks such a stem receives the key to the forest's nocturnal secrets. Its light illuminates the invisible: paths trodden by moonlight hares; the dances of forest spirits dancing in thawed patches; and the very awakening of nature—when the earth quietly exhales steam and sap rises through the tree veins.
In this light, the world appears as a living, breathing being. But with the first crow of the rooster, the magic fades, and the Forest Lanterns become ordinary plants, guarding their secrets until the next night.