There was a blizzard outside. Far out in the endless mountain ranges, almost unnoticed in the expanse of ice and rock, the winds howled and drove against a light in the darkness.

It was a tentative fortress, the first faltering efforts of men unafraid of the future and unknowing of the past. On the tips of stone towers, elaborate constructions of wood and metal stood silent; straining for light that was not there, in futile search for fellow towers in the storm.

Nonetheless, this tiny – even insignificant – construction outshone the darkness. On a bright day when the sun soars in the sky, scintillating bursts of light drive the shadows away better than any candle or fireplace. Now, in the midst of assault from elemental forces, even the memory of that radiance keeps the darkness on the other side of the mighty stone walls.

In one of the spires, a man watched the night fall.

Better to light a candle than curse the darkness, don’t you think?