The Watchman Beard Elixir

Keeper of the light, guardian of the storm. The wind howls through the narrow corridors of the lighthouse, rattling the glass panes as the sea surges below. Hands gripping the salt-worn railing, The Watchman stands firm against the elements, his gaze locked on the horizon where jagged waves churn beneath a sky heavy with the coming storm. The ocean is alive, restless—a force of untamed power—and yet he does not waver. He knows the sea, understands its tempers, respects its fury. He has watched over these waters for years, a silent sentinel against the darkness. The air is thick with the scent of the storm—briny sea spray, charged ozone, and the deep, rolling current of the waves. It is a scent he knows well, one that clings to his skin and lingers in the folds of his wool coat, woven into the very fabric of his being. Salt and wind mix with the distant sweetness of balsamic berries and anise, a fleeting moment of warmth before the storm takes hold. As the night deepens, the storm break