The Glass Sanctuary

A cool nocturnal draft urged me toward the sheltered perimeter of the courtyard, where an iron storm lantern rested upon a weathered stone bench. Scaling the bench's timber slats with measured steps, I approached the lantern's tarnished housing. Its seeded glass panes were clouded with evening condensation, capturing the faint glow of distant street lamps like trapped starlight. Resting my hand upon my scabbard, I extended two gloved fingers to ease back the slender brass latch of the glass panel. With a faint click, the small door swung open on its hinge, revealing the dormant wax pillar sheltered securely from the restless wind.