The Lamplighters of Vey

The Lamplighters of Vey move through fog, politics, and war with brass keys at their belts and salt in the seams of their coats. They tend harbour lamps, pilot codes, night routes, refugee ledgers, and the secret signals that can turn a ship from death toward shelter. Their ladders climb through storm. Their boats cross black water without song. Smugglers, captains, spies, and widows all know their shutters. Enemies call them traffickers in influence. Vaelorn calls them the hands that keep mercy visible when the coast has gone blind. Their order claims descent from the first harbour watchers, who burned seal fat in cracked bowls before the lantern towers were raised. Every lamp they trim is beautiful from the sea and dreadful from the quay, because one wrong shutter can make a ship vanish into rocks, soldiers, or fire.