My perch is both a blessing and a curse. It allows me to see all, and see nothing. Yet what I do see leaves me sleepless.

It is a terrible thing to see what lies at one's doorstep. If I turn one way I can look to the great star and the wars that wreak havoc on its children. If I turn the other way I can peer into the abyss and cry out at what lurks beyond my home.

The Jovians house wonders both great and terrible, and many that I cannot fathom. Among them moves a fortress of unspeakable terror, and beyond even that things that are only whispered of in hushed tones and half-forgotten dreams. My perch could drive lesser men to madness.

Perhaps it has driven me mad as well. Perhaps it is why so many bristle at my approach but respect my station. Do the fools not understand? Someone must watch. Someone must observe what moves sight unseen to come slit our throats in the night or lay waste to our home. Someone must alert my sister when it is time to cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war.

My perch is a curse, but it is my greatest pride. How many lives have been saved by my vigilant watch? How many more will be? Someone must watch. Someone must learn and study. The perch is mine. I fear it will be no one's all too soon.