Night Vigil at the Iron Rail
The darkness settles deep. Night watches require steady elevation. I scaled the vertical rungs of the iron balcony balustrade, planting each armored boot firmly onto the chilled horizontal beam. High above the courtyard, the wind carries a steady hum. Below, distant streetlights slice across the asphalt, carving clear lanes into the shadows. My right gauntlet gripped the top rail, testing the solid iron integrity. Immovable. From this peak, no blind spots remain along the threshold. The night stretches wide before me. My watch begins.
