No Hope?
There is a difference, ya know; between holding a torch and being a torch bearer.
There was a certain Olympics when the torch made it all the way across five continents without going out, but halfway across the sixth, the flame guttered. The runner dropped his pace to a crawl and covered it with his hand. The cameras all zoomed in on his face which went stark as the flame gave out under a drop of his own worried sweat.
The whole world lost hope.
Then the guy stopped and consulted the crew. They brought in towels and he wiped his brow. Then, taking a lighter, he smiled his best smile. The whole world saw his missing tooth (as he never wore his retainer while running long distance). He gave an awkward thumbs up, struck the lighter, and the torch blazed again.
The whole world cheered.
Holding a torch in the dark may make you feel there is something better ahead. Something out there besides ghouls and goblins. Demons… But when it goes out, people who rely on that are lost.
Being a torchbearer means to walk boldly through the valley of death and fear no evil. I mean, your torch might be out, but it’s still a stick! A formidable weapon! Hell, beat a rock with it hard enough and long enough and it may just come back, burning with life.