WEBVTT

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Saltwater stung Silas's eyes as another massive wave

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slammed against the jagged basalt of the island,

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sending a tremor right up through the floorboards

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of the tower.

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Built centuries ago from weathered stone that had

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darkened to the color of a stormy sea,

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the ancient lighthouse stood like a stubborn sentinel

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against the fury of the Atlantic.

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Silas gripped the iron railing of the lantern

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room, watching the bruised, heavy clouds roll in

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from the horizon.

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The maritime atmosphere here was always oppressive before

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a squall,

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the air thick with the scent of ozone

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and rotting kelp.

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High above the churning white foam, a flock

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of gulls wheeled desperately against the wind,

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their shrill cries swallowed by the thunderous roar

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of the tide.

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It was grueling work, keeping the massive glass

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fresnel lens polished through nights like these,

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but the beacon was the only thread keeping

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passing ships away from the

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razor -like teeth of the surrounding reefs.

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As the sun finally drowned beneath the horizon,

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plunging the world into ink and shadow,

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Silas turned the heavy brass key.

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With a deep mechanical hum, the lighthouse roared

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to life,

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casting a sweeping, powerful beam of light across

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the violent obsidian water,

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a silent promise that, for one more night,

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the darkness would not win.