Sentinel at the Crest

The final riser yielded beneath my ascent as night settled over the house. At the summit of the banister stands a dark oak newel post, crowned with a heavy, multi-faceted crystal finial. I reached the edge of the polished landing and stepped close to the wooden spire. Extending my gauntleted fingers, I pressed my palm against the chilled facets of the glass orb. Down in the dim stairwell, distant light refracted upward through the crystal, scattering sharp diamond patterns of shadow across the upper hallway floorboards. The elevation is secure. I hold this vantage.