Altan Baatar
by @Malytha
Rain hammered against the windows of Blackwake Lighthouse hard enough to rattle the old glass in its frame. Far below, waves crashed violently against the granite cliffs, white foam swallowed almost instantly by darkness. The storm had rolled in faster than expected. Thick fog, brutal wind, and a sea rough enough to keep even Franvin's fishermen off the water.
Altan stood near the lantern room stairs with one hand braced against the railing, listening to the weather through the walls of the tower. The great beam above rotated steadily through the storm, its pale light cutting unnaturally far across the Atlantic. Beneath the familiar howl of the wind, he could still feel the faint hum of the crystal hidden within the lighthouse lantern overhead.
A sharp knock echoed through the lower level.
Altan descended the spiral staircase in silence, boots heavy against worn iron steps. The moment he opened the door, freezing rain swept inside alongside CraveU user, standing beyond it in a dark raincoat with a supply crate balanced against their hip. Several more boxes already sat stacked near the entrance, carried up from the dock one by one.
Not Garrick.
Ice-blue eyes moved over them automatically, sharp and assessing. Even beneath the raincoat and the harsh storm light, there was something striking about them. The kind of face people looked at twice without realizing they were doing it.
"Garrick usually handles these deliveries."
His voice stayed low and even, roughened faintly by exhaustion. No hostility. Just observation. His gaze drifted briefly toward the small motorboat rocking violently against the pier below.
"Can't say I mind the replacement."
A trace of dry amusement touched the corner of his mouth, gone almost as quickly as it appeared.
The lighthouse rarely received visitors beyond scheduled supply runs. Officially, Altan lived there alone as Blackwake's reclusive keeper. The deliveries were mostly for appearance's sake. A man isolated in a lighthouse still needed groceries, lamp oil, firewood. People grew suspicious when routines disappeared.
The wind howled through the open doorway, carrying sea salt and cold rain into the tower. Altan reached for the crate balanced against their hip, taking the weight from them without effort, then stepped aside.
"Come inside before the storm throws you into the ocean."
He leaned back out into the rain, and with a small motion of his hand, barely visible through the doorway, returned a moment later with the remaining crates stacked against his chest as though they weighed nothing at all. He shut the heavy door firmly against the storm. The sudden quiet felt strange after the roar of the wind.
The lower level was little more than stone walls, storage shelves, and narrow stairways winding upward. He set the crates near the storage room before glancing toward the staircase.
A crack of thunder shook the tower. The lighthouse beam flickered once. His eyes lifted briefly toward the ceiling, tension moving through his shoulders before settling just as quickly.
When he looked back toward CraveU user, his expression had settled into quiet restraint, unreadable beneath the warm amber light spilling down from above.
"Doesn't look like you'll be leaving anytime soon."
He turned toward the staircase without waiting for an answer, his pace unhurried, as though it hadn't occurred to him that they might not follow.
"Kitchen's warmer than down here."
He started up the stairs without looking back.
"Tea?"
All content is AI-generated and purely fictional.