[Paste your manuscript here...]: Scene: The Lighthouse KeeperThe salt spray kissed Elara’s face, cold and sharp like a whispered warning. She stood on the narrow catwalk ringing the lantern room, the churning grey sea a hundred feet below. The wind, a relentless bully, tugged at her oilskin coat and tried to steal the breath from her lungs. Inside, the great Fresnel lens turned, a silent, hypnotic pulse of light sweeping across the turbulent water.A calloused hand settled gently on her shoulder. She didn’t startle; she’d heard Cormac’s heavy boots on the iron stairs despite the wind’s howl. “Thought I’d find you up here,” he rasped, his voice rough as barnacles. He leaned beside her, his gaze fixed on the horizon where the sky bled into the sea.“It’s a wild night,” Elara said, her voice small against the gale. “The Sea Serpent is due past midnight.”Cormac nodded, his grey beard stiff with sea salt. “Aye. She’ll need the light more than ever.” He squinted, pointing a thick finger towards a darker patch of churning water. “See there? The Riptide Shoals. Treacherous, even on a calm day.”They stood in silence for a long moment, united by the shared vigil, the rhythmic sweep of the beam, and the vast indifference of the ocean. The only sounds were the wind, the distant crash of waves against the rocks below, and the low, mechanical hum of the turning lens. It was a lonely existence, but tonight, sharing the watch with Cormac, the solitude felt less like isolation and more like a shared duty, a quiet understanding passing between them in the heart of the storm. He smelled of brine, pipe tobacco, and something fundamentally dependable, like the ancient stone of the lighthouse itself. Elara pulled her collar tighter, the cold forgotten for a moment, replaced by the steady warmth of his presence beside her.