Shadow Tower Descent | Chapter 1 | Tower’s Maw


I am in hell. I must be.
I don’t understand why.
I died like a normal person. Old age. A heart attack, alone, inside my car.
I married a woman I didn’t love. I had a kid who passed before his time.
I worked a normal job.
I wasn’t a bad person. I just didn’t do anything.
So why?
Why?
	The red flesh loosely slaps onto the dark stones. Dust shoots pain into the meat.
Unable to see. Unable to hear. Just pain.
Searing pain shooting inside my bones.
They ache.
I’m so, so cold.

The depths of The Abyss ignored the wails that filled its labyrinth.
It stood as it always would. Time is not a metric for suffering here.

Inside The Tower a pair of boots scrape along the passages. One of leather. One of metal. A long and narrow shield catches the reflection of the floating orb of light in front. Medallions and wards, runes and symbols hang from the long staff in the back.
	The light casts long shadows down the hallway, a hand slowly measures the paces taken, dragging along the wall. The two try to ignore the inhuman screams on the impossible wind. The smell of stale blood caught in the red hair of the one at the front. The light stops moving forward. Just hovering. Reflecting the dirty and dinged plate that grips her body, illuminating the masked spark of fear in her eyes.
	「You hear that?」
Her voice echoes in the empty halls, though they are far from silent. One scream sounds a little closer than the rest. It sounds too human. Too raw. The metal bottom of the staff scrapes on the stone.
	「It’s no ghul.」
The words pass her scarred lips, as her long ear flicks slightly, trying to gauge distance down the long twisting hallways.
	The red haired one sucks in a breath through gritted teeth. Slowly swinging out around the left passage, trusting her back to the one behind her. She doesn’t see anything at first. Her pupils dilate, as she looks into the darkness.
…
Nothing. For now. The thought is broken by another low scream. Her eyes are jerked lower, almost blocked by the lip of the shield. A mass of seething red flesh. Distinctly human. The narrow blade in her hand hangs over her head, waiting to strike.

But it stays. A hand grabs it.
「It's human.」
「Something like that?」
「You don’t trust me?」
She lowers the blade.
「What do you want to do?」
「This is probably what the request from the Eyrie is about」
「So? Do we kill it?」
Their words are hushed whispers. Unsure of what’s listening. The things ears pound. Unable to hear. The cartilage that would form them, gone.
「Let me try something.」
「A Spell?」
「Yes. Watch my back, would you?」
The two slowly change positions, their backs scraping against each other in the tight passage. Short white hair veils her face, as the crouches over the mass of raw flesh. Her hand pushes into it, passing through like wet paper. A bead of sweat forms over her brow, running down the thin line of a scar on her face.

「Dieses Fleisch wiederherstellen.」
 「Die Folgen der Zeit rückgängig machen.」
「Und die Sünden der Menschheit.」

The stench of old blood, tangy metal, dissipates quietly, replaced by a sickly sweet smell. A dim light extends from her finger tips, pulsing out from her nail…

Something shudders in the mess of meat. The mind has a way of shutting out pain after a while. Numbness sets in. I can’t see. I can’t hear. I can feel, move. But my body refuses. If this is even my body still. I know it hurts, but thinking about it only hurts more. I don’t know where I am. If this is hell. It’s far worse than I imagined. Far, far worse. I wonder when I’m going to run out of thoughts to think about. What will happen then? I don’t want to turn into a quivering lump of flesh. I don’t… I don’t…

My ears ring. Something new. The darkness shakes momentarily.

The woman’s hand shirks back, evading the sudden growth of leathery skin slapping over the raw muscle. Sinew and tissue crawls out of the nothing, rebuilding. Trying to rebuild. The spell breaks, a sparking light causes her eyes to narrow. Watch the things chest heave a virgin breath of air.

My lungs expand abnormally. Darkness fills my vision, but of a different kind. The aching stops for just a second, replaced by a new kind of pain. The floor feels cold, not painful. I can hear my own raspy breath come in and out, the strain causing searing pain in my lungs.
	「Are you done over there yet?」
Her hand clenches her shield tighter, trying to discern what sounds are coming from behind her, and what are coming from the dark deeper inside.
	「It seems like his anima’s stuck between the Shoal, but the bod」.」
	「I don’t have time for a lecture.」
The words are spoken through tightly gritted teeth.
「Are we going or not?」
Annoyance breaks through concentration.
Wiping the sweat from her face, she watches the thing writhe in the dim lighting. Bringing back the dead is no easy feat. Let alone correctly. Without a follower of Anamon, nearly sadistic. She pushes the thoughts from her mind, carving the sight of skin slapping over flesh into her mind. Pale eyes turn a sickly yellow. Bleached pupils frantically look over the dark. Taught skin settles over yellow teeth and bone. She doesn’t pull her gaze away. An eternity of pain ends in a few precious seconds. The memory fades quickly.

A stone floor…? Eyes adjust to the dark. A thin light illuminates the rest. A basement… no?
The woman… her hair seems bleached… must be a… scars?
「Welcome back, dead-man.」
Her voice seems unnaturally refined. The words bounce around in my head, it doesn’t sound like something I should understand. Let me rest. I’m tired. I’ve just had a terrible dream. Her staff digs into my ribs. The metal tip prods the space between bone.
「No time to squander. Can you walk?」
Walk? Of course. My legs are fine, I used to walk everywhere. But… I just don’t…
The legs slowly slide, scraping on the worn flooring, unable to lift themselves.
「Oi! Something's watching us down there! Hurry it up!」
The woman with bleached… white? Hair grabs my shoulders. Pulling me up. Something sharp settles in my spine as she pulls me up over her shoulder. The world swims. I’m… tired. I don’t want to…
「Right, I’ll take point 」 we're following the same route back to the Wayline.」
Her voice is sharp with rushed decisions.
「Ok, ok, five paces!」
The sound of scraping metal echoes up as she pulls the shield backwards in time with her legs, eyes never leaving the dark passage ahead.
The jostle from her shoulder digging into my stomach makes me feel sick. Her palm digs into the side of my face as she redirects the bile leaking out from it to the wall, and off her chest. The demand to rest ebbs at my vision.
「— party came through took — 」
「— there won’t be anything down —」
「— sure? Last — 」
	…
「Oi. You keel over again?」
A blurry face framed in red sits uncomfortably close to mine. Blue eyes bore into my skull. Stop looking at me like that.
“... where」?”
「The Abyss.」
The what? Some kind of… made up name. Yeah… there must be a camera somewhere…
… Her eyes search for some kind of affirmation.
 「The Shadow Tower.」
Sounds like something from those games my… son used to play…
… The look is replaced with one of agitation.
「Oi! Serith! What’s wrong with him!」
Her disgruntled face looks over at her companion. Just out of focus. Serith… … What kind of name」?
「How would you feel coming back from the dead?」
The dead? Of course. I died. Her blurry visage stays hidden against the mossy wall. The sound of trickling water fills the silence.
The red haired one lets out a long sigh. Her head hangs for a moment, before standing up from her squat.
「Here. Cover yourself. You look hideous.「
Before throwing some kind of towel at me. It feels scratchy. Heavy. Like the blankets I used to sleep under. The pair watch me. I realise that I’m naked. The biting of the air reaffirms this fact. The bundle of cloth unfolds into some archaic kind of clothing, hanging off my body like a curtain… a cloak? My legs pop slightly as I stand. My skin feels dry. My throat. My eyes. Finally focus.
The room is wide. The top fades away. Too dark to see. A fountain stands in the middle. Some kind of statue on it. Like the ones you’d see pictures of in Rome — like the postcards I used to get, when I was still with her. Serith? Yes. That’s what her friend called her. Dressed in some kind of strange getup. Long ears. Some silver bangles hanging off them. Her right arm is covered in a long silk glove.
	A cosplayer? Maybe. Wait… no that’s… t h a t s 」
I grab my head, trying to keep the pain from spreading. The answer doesn’t feel right. Blood pulses in my head. Something gnawing inside my gut tells me something far worse is the reality.

The red haired one clicks her tongue. Picks up her shield again.
「Get it together. We’re heading back to the Eyrie.」
Why am I alive? Why is she looking at me like I’m some kind of terminally sick freak? My head feels like it was split by an axe. The armor she’s wearing, the one with red hair. It doesn’t look fake. But it can’t be right. How could it? People don’t wear things like that. Places don’t look like this. This is a dream. That’s all it can be. My mind gave up processing pain. Now it wants an escape. A thin stream of yellow bile leaks out once more, splashing on the floor.
Nightmares are one thing alone. This is the kind of dream you remember for a long time. Fine. I’ll play by those rules. A dream. Fine. Fine.
	「Ok. Ok. Ok — He’s fit for sail. Serith, what do you think, a thread of Knossos?」
	「Don’t feel like climbing back up? How unlike you.」
	「Are you going to watch him?」
	「I’m sorry my frame isn’t as strapping as yours, Edra.」
Edra… that’s her name? Another nonsensical name.
She reaches into an old satchel behind her waist, pulling out a shimmering gold thread from a small case. It moves slowly, as if catching an invisible wind. Its length seems to change as the light of the chamber bounces off it. Serith grabs one end.
	「Here. Grab it.」
Edra guides one end over to me. My hand reaches out to grab 」 wait. Why does my hand look like that? No. It’s just a dream. Nothing more.
	「Right. Serith?」
Serith’s long ear flicks slightly, the end chewed off by something. An invisible chain of words passes her lips. An unbearable light abruptly blasts the chain of thought from my head. The ground swallows my leg, sinking into it like water. A brief image of a place I once knew — an endless plain crosses my vision. A little boy turns to look at me. Before my vision snaps away.

My head falls deftly lands on a gritty patch of dirt and grass.


Shadow Tower Descent | Chapter 2 | Tower’s Respite


The bed of old dirt breaks the fall. The grass smells fresh. The air feels uncompressed. A strange warm heat on my skin reminds me of something from a long time ago. The image from a moment ago flashes again, forcing my eyes open.
	A blue sky greets me. A cloud wisps over the open dome directly above my head. A familiar trickle of water sounds by my head. The candles lighting the walls are swallowed by the natural light.
	「Oi. Get up.」
A rough metal glove grabs the hood of the cloak, dragging me to a standing position as my feet try to balance themselves. Edra pulls the hood tight over my face, blocking my view with her body. From what?
	「Welcome back. I see you brought something new from the Abyss.」
A man steps forward, black robes swinging, the hidden shoes click disquietingly. The room feels smaller with every step he takes. His words linger a moment too long.
「Wonderful, is not, that even the Abyss imparts the gift of life? Even something so removed from divinity can perform good deeds.」
Serith’s voice speaks up. Composed, but rushed.
「We’re simply fulfilling a request from the Eyrie.」
「Oh? I don’t recall any missing persons being reported. Though, I do not strike as the type to lie Serith.」
… The grass parts quietly as he steps forward again.
「Though, such things are only for Anamon to judge.」
His retort cuts as soon as her mouth closes. The air chills.
	「What business is it of yours」」
A hand cuts Edra’s words off. Her teeth clamp down, grating.
	「None. None at all. I’m doing nothing more than inquiring as to the success of your pilgrimage. It is beyond the scope of my role to impart verdict. Only to listen — though, even your father had the grace to humor such questions.」
Serith speaks before Edra formulates a retort.
「We’ll be taking our leave.」
The preist… yes, that must be what he is, smiles.
	「Of course. Know, you're always welcome, to the house of Anamon. No matter how profane.」
Edra bites back her scathing remark. Taking her frustration out on manhandling my neck instead, dragging me from the monument. Of this… cathedral. Church. It doesn’t matter. My eyes meet his for just a moment. An empty, restrained smile sits on his face. Lean and sharp. His thin eyes unblinking. Knowing. Appraising.
	The loud scraping of metal on uneven stone forces my gaze away, as Edra and Serith waste no time stepping though the open mantleplace — away from this place.
	Unfamiliar sounds and smells register, before being drowned out, as the two funnel me into a back alley. Muddy dirt clings to my skin. Besmirches Edra’s already dirty metal leggings. Somehow, it refuses to stick to Serith.
“Where are we… going?”
My throat still feels raw. Speaking hurts. But my jaw aches as if demanding to stretch, wipe the dust off it.
「The Eyrie.」
Edra speaks with venom in her mouth. Her eyebrows knitted. Serith speaks without looking at either of us.
「I’m glad you had the foresight to not take the main road.」
「Though, I would suggest we head to our room beforehand.」
「And why should we?」
「I think we might get something valuable out of it.」
Edra stops in the overcast alley. And, as a result, my head jerks to a stop with her hand. Their eyes clash momentarily, with Edra consigning in an exasperated sigh. Her hand rubs once over her eye, her body shifting onto one leg.
	「Fine. But you’re taking responsibility for anything.」
	「I’ve taken it for far worse. Come. I want to test something.」
Serith strides ahead of us, her posture betraying a sense of anticipation.
	The Eyrie, or whatever building we enter into, stands a note taller than the rest around it. Solid wood floors seem refreshingly firm against my naked feet. Familiar. My house had wooden floors. Just like these. Edra opens an unremarkable door, and with it, releases her grip, pushing me inside the small room.
A tiny box window, only covered by a wooden shutter, gives a small view to the street. Two thin blankets cover small beds at either side. A desk covered in strewn papers and spilled ink. A sack of miscellaneous boxes and tools. Cluttered metal instruments lay in one corner.
Serith sits on one of the beds. The thick leather that strapped her shoulders discarded on the floor, revealing more scars underneath. The room clatters loudly as Edra walks to her side of the room, dropping parts of metal armor on the ground.
	I stand in front of the closed doorway. Feel the compression of my bones as I move to the uncomfortable wooden chair. And wait. Serith puts a long, thin, pipe to her mouth. A trail of colored smoke rises from it. Edra sits, the upper half of her armor removed, resting her arms on her legs.
	「So… dead-man.」
Serith speaks first.
	「Do you know what you are?」
What am I? … Just a regular person. Just an old man. That’s all.
	…
	「So, you’re not aware, are you?」
Her gloved arm raises up, her fingertip drawing a thin circle in the air, whispering a short phrase. The air waves like the water's surface, calming into a translucent mirror. Something looks back. It’s not me. My hand pulls the hood away from my head. It’s not me. My hand raises slowly to my face. It’s me.
	Leathery skin strapped over thin muscle. Yellow teeth. Peeled back lips. Pale yellow eyes, milky and washed. Thin strands of hair fall from the back of my skull. The bone juts out, barely contained.. The flesh over my chest vacuumed. The shapes unrecognizable. The mirror dissolves back into the air.
	「Do you understand now?」
	…
	“No.”
The words pass freely now. As if unburdened by a terrible realization.
	「Yer a corpse. A walking one. Like a Ghul.」
Edra chimes in. Leaning disinterestedly onto the bed.
	「Something like that. You know what a Ghul is, right?」
Serith’s eye’s search for something more than an answer. A Ghul… ghoul? No. I don’t. How could I know everything about this ridiculous nightmare? Serith blows a thin line of smoke, waiting for an answer.
	“No. I don’t.”
My own voice sounds repulsive to myself. Serith chews lightly on the end of the pipe.
	「Well, I couldn’t tell you what you are either. You’re not dead. But not really alive. Something in between. I thought maybe the rest of your anima would come over from the Shoal, but…」
	“The Shoal?”
Her lips crack a wry smile.
	「Something like a beach. Or, just another term for the afterlife – anyways, it seems like I was wrong. There just isn’t anything more to come back.」
Ridiculous. I’m alive. How could I not have ‘come back’. No… that would imply I was dead. I wasn’t, I was just suffering… no. I did die. I remember the regret. The lack of it. Waking in hell. She’s wrong. She doesn’t understand what she’s talking about.
	「That’s an ugly face, even for you.」
Edra shoots a bemused look from the pillow her head rests on. It seems I can still make faces.
	「Whatever the case, there’s one of two things that could happen to you now.」
Her ungloved hand holds up one finger.
	「We scrap you out into magical materials.」
And then another.
	「We dump you off at the Eyrie reception and collect our wages.」
Even in my mind's wildest fantasies, I can’t escape hell it seems. Serith stands, cracking her back lightly.
	「Or 」 another option. You see that sword over in the corner? The one with the blue handle? Pick it up.」
Edra shoots a quick glance at Serith, before her gaze turns back to me. I can play along. Just fine. The floor creaks as I walk across it. The handle feels cold. My body tells me it should be heavy, but it seems weightless.
	The blade is covered in some strange kind of writing. The reflection tells me how sharp it is without touching it.
	「Right, now, try and let go.」
My fingers release, the knuckles popping, as the blade clatters to the ground. Serith’s arm crosses under her chest, her gloved one putting the pipe back to her lips. Edra watches, now slightly pushing herself up from the bed. The two don’t say anything. Smoke fills the gap.
	「Well 」 that settles it. Edra?」
Serith looks over at Edra, who blinks a few times, before turning back to look at Serith.
	「Settles what?」
	「He’d be useful in The Tower.」
	「How?」
	「A curse of binding didn’t affect him. I imagine that it is related to the same reason the spell failed to completely restore him as well.」
Edra raps her fingers, the thin black under gloves tapping against the armor on her thigh.
	「No.」
	「I’m sure even you can understand the value before you. Or, has failure dulled your courage?」
Edra clicks her tongue. Her eyes bore into me. As if searching for something deeper. I’m used to stares. But not of this kind.
	“I don’t want to die.”
The words leave my mouth before I can formulate the thought. This delusion is better than the last. Death? No… I think… I want…
	「Fine. Fine. Your going to need to cover that face though.」
	「I have something for it.」
Serith steps over to the pile of miscellaneous things stashed in the corner. Digging through what looks like a pile of musical instruments, pulling out a silver mask.
	「Here. A welcoming gift.」
An offer I don’t get the option to refuse. The tarnished mask’s sheen reflects something ugly. A face carved into it shows something human like. Whatever emotion it was intended to convey is lost on me. The thin leather straps dig into the withered flesh behind my head. Snuggly fitting.
	「Forgot you had that thing.」
Edra says, stretching her arms, wheeling herself upright.
	「I don’t do many performances anymore — better someone use it.」
Serith brushes the remark away.
	「Oh, and Edra, give him some of your old armor, would you? You didn’t sell it, right?」
	「No. No I didn’t.」
Her disapproval is obvious in the way she digs up the bundle of leather and thin metal, chucking it by my feet.
	「Put it on. I’m tired of looking and your shriveled lower half.」
The armor bites into my body, too tight in some parts, too loose in others. Not meant for us anyways. Edra lets out a masked snort.
	「You look like some kind of highway-man.」
A robber? I imagine the mask looks strange. The leather creaks as I place the cloak on my shoulders. Whatever role the dream offers, I’ll just have to accept. The hood up provides the last shadows to cover what the mask can’t.
	「Congratulations, dead-man. You look human again.」
Serith pauses, tapping the bowl of expired ash from her pipe.
	「Now. I think it’s time you told us your name.」
My name. My name was… no. Was it? I can’t recall the last time someone called me by my name. I can’t remember what she sounded like calling it out. Or… his voice. No, now isn’t the time for this.
	“Don’t recall.”
Edra looks like she plans on calling my bluff. A sense of familiarity flashes across her face for a moment. As if some kind of experience tells her to let it slide. Serith decides to humor me as well.
	「Fine. I’ll give you one. If you hate your old one so much. How about… Talith?」
	「You're calling him of Tower?」
Edra scoffs at the name, before repeating it back to herself.
	「Well.」
She stands, deciding something.
	「Ok, ok. Let’s grab a drink. I’m hungry…」
「 And we’ll have to file your papers with the Eyrie too.」
A deep sigh accompanies that statement.
	「I’ll handle that.」
Serith speaks, picking up on the not so subtle implication that Edra did not actually want to file anything.
	「Come on. Can’t just stand around forever.」
Thirsty. No… I can’t say I am. Nor hungry. I don’t like eating with other people. My footfalls click out of sync, following theirs.
	A quiet din of voices echoes up the stairs. Serith and Edra disappear around the corner. Groups of men and women argue, laugh, whisper among themselves. The weight of something invisible hangs over the hall, preventing their words from growing too loud. The mask catches the occasional gaze of a stray pair of eyes.
	Serith’s thin scarred arm grabs mine dragging me in the direction of a counter.
	「Made it back in one piece huh? Glad to see it」
A man in some kind of formal attire greets her. His greying hair and rough face reminds me of the barkeeps I used to see in town. His eyes shift from her to me.
	「You’re not from here.」
His cold accusation rings a little louder than needed. Unwanted ears tune in.
	“No. I’m not.”


Shadow Tower Descent | Chapter 3 | Tower’s Call


「I figured, not many minstrels come around these parts.」

A… circus man? I must look ridiculous. A feeling of shame rises up — habitual.
	“Something like that.”
	「Cor, you’ve a bad voice to be one. Though, I’ve oft found the stranger the better the tale.」
Another mask to wear I suppose. Serith puts her hand on my shoulder, steering the conversation back.
	「Yes, I ran into him on my way back from the Tower. I’d like him to join myself and Edra.」
	「Oh, a sword wielding minstrel is it? Well, I won’t judge. You’ve an eye for things after all.」
The man doesn’t bother to question her. Grabbing a small metal plate attached to a coarse string.
	「And what’s your name?」
	“Talith.”
He pauses for a moment. Serith draws a hidden smile, before he resumes his work.
	「Talith, eh?」
The collection of dies in his hand ring softly as he hammers in the name. Character by character.
…
I can’t read a single word. Some kind of identification no doubt.
	「Right. Here you go. Happy hunting.」
He places the thin tag into my armored hands. It slides easily into the satchel at my waist. Serith pulls me back, her mouth close to my ear. Her eyes carry something unreadable.
	「Whether or not I change my decision, is up to you.」
Before lightly slapping my shoulder with her gloved hand. Even through the leather, I can feel a number of rings on her finger, hidden under the silk.
	She leaves. Heading off to the table where Edra sits, alone. Staring into a copper mug. Alone again. This room seems well lived in. Tables fill one section. The counter is another. Doors lead to the back, though none walk through them. Some strange banners hang on the wall. A bar rests at the far corner of the room. An empty seat. I’ve had my fill of those two. A drink. That would do me good. Liquor never left me.
	The old wooden stool groans as my hands lay on the counter. A woman, who couldn't be over 25, briskly walks over, cutting another man’s one sided talk short.
	「Something to wet your throat before another performance?」
	“A drink.”
She seems off put by the tone of my voice. It wasn’t intentional. It’s just nature. She silently departs, bringing back a tall cup of something brown. It doesn’t smell strong. The liquid washes against my dry lips. The only part the mask doesn’t cover. The taste… I’ve drank worse. There’s no bite to the brew.
	「Ohohoh, so, a minstrel's come out to this place?」
The man next to me speaks. A larger man. The kind that seems a washed up mess.
	「You’ve any tales to recount? I can only stomach so many fictitious tales in one day.」
The one to the right of his grunts into his drink. A story? No, nothing comes to mind.
	「Come on, I’m sure you’ve got something stored in that little head of yours? Or… did the tower make you lose your tongue?」
His fist shoves into my shoulder with unwelcome force. A story? Fine. I suppose it’s expected of my role.
	“Have you ever heard the tale of… Odysseus?”
I’ve never had the imagination to create a tale on a whim. I’m sure the long dead Greeks won’t mind a borrowed story or two. The man’s silence affirms my suspicion. Of course he hasn’t.
	“Long ago a war broke out between two maritime nations. The prince of one, a place called Troy, was asked by three goddesses, which he found to be the most beautiful."
	「Three? Who’s were they?」
	“Lost to time.”
He clicks his tongue.
	“He chose Aphrodite. The most beautiful of them all. As a reward, she granted him the fairest mortal woman alive. Helen. Whisked away by the goddess herself, she was made bride to be.”
	The man makes no comment, listening instead.
	“But those days came to an end, when great warships came to the coast of his city. The other two goddesses had grown spiteful of his answer, and stirred the hearts of those whom Helen was taken from to hate. They waged a terrible war against one another. But neither could best the other. Until Odysseus, devised a great war machine.”
	「A machine, eh?」
	“A horse. A gift. They took it into their walls. And late in the night, he emerged with his best men. Opening the gates. Destroying the city from the inside.”
	「Sounds like this fellow was quite the coward.」
	“His tale has not truly begun. For it was after the fires settled, and the corpse of Paris was paraded through the streets, his tale starts. You see, he was marked by the same gods that orchestrated this war. Vengeful they were.”
	“He took to sail, his ship lost to sea for ten years on his return home. Forced to face the horrors below, the witches on the long forgotten isles. He found his men dead one by one, till he alone manned the ship. It was only by coming to a small island, that he found the way home. Forgiven. He spoke to the ghosts of his men… trapped in the Shoal.”
The man’s eyes narrow at the mention.
	“He tricked the vengeful gods, and alone sailed back to his home. But time had taken its toll. The keepers of his house had forgotten his name. For now, he had none. His wife had left his estate with another suitor in his absence. The men who tilled his field now loitered in his ruined estate. Only his dog recognized him. Waiting for ten years, before it too passed shortly after. Returning to a man with no name, he entered the halls of his once home. And took to vengeful slaughter of its inhabitants. He cut them apart one by one.”
	“But none yet recalled his name. Odysseus had died on the shores of that city he sailed to ten years prior. And he vanished. Never heard of again.”
The man sits quietly. Others look. Listening to the tale. It seems anyone can just recount a tale. They silently swill their drinks. Pondering if they should speak on it. None do. A disquieting silence fills the air. A hand rests on my shoulder. My head tilts just enough to see who. Serith.
	「An interesting tale. Not one even I know of. Maybe you were made for such things. Come. We have things to discuss.」
Things. Everyone wants to talk about things. My feet drag up, leaving the unfinished drink and uncomfortable silence behind. Over to the table where Edra sits, expecting — a half empty pitcher of the same liquid sitting on the table.
	「Hm. Quite the talker we have eh?」
Is her only acknowledgement as I seat myself. Serith's earlier warning plays back inside my head. A short leash on this dream it would seem.
	「You’ll have to tell me about that tale later. I didn’t think you were actually a minstrel when I gave you my old mask. Or maybe, you’ve just a sharp tongue?」
	Serith speaks, seating herself. Touching her scarred lips to a small cup of clear fluid. Edra slams her own mug back to the table.
	「Right! Well as things go, you’re with us now. Got it?」
	“...yes.”
	「Ok. Ok. So, now that you’ve got you — wits — about you, why don’t you tell me what you already know about the tower.」
Nothing comes to mind. Fictitious. How could I know the rules about it?
	「Nothing, hmm? Not even a sliver of knowledge inside that rotted brain?」
Serith speaks again before Edra can.
	「The Tower. Or, as you will come to find it called, The Shadow Tower. A place that predates recorded time.」
	“Old, is it?”
	「Older than anything living. Save maybe the oldest trees.」
Serith swirls her glass before continuing.
	「They say, that long ago, it was created as a seal. An ancient sorcerer, bargained his soul away to unknowable demons in exchange for power.」
	「Or, it’s a manifestation of man’s evil.」
Edra chimes in, between gulps. Serith does not counter her statement.
	「In the end, no one alive really knows why it exists. Only that it does. This place, the Eyrie, functions as something that tries to turn its abominations into numbers. Requests, something more palatable and knowable.」
	「Adventurers!」
Edra chimes again. Her head swayed slightly.
	「That is what we are called. With the Eyrie’s permission, we enter the Tower, and strive to the Abyss. To map it, control it, and prevent the things inside from coming out.」
	“Coming out?”
	「Yes. There are two types of creatures in this world. Demi-humans, and Abominations. Both dwell within the tower, but only one comes from it. Demons, you may have heard them as. Things that feed on souls. Unchecked, they leave, wander the lands, and consign untold numbers to oblivion.」
	“And then, you prevent it — ‘demons’ from coming out of The Tower?”
Demons. I’m not sure if I’ve ever been a religious man. The question tormented me until the end of my days. I suppose I should have been. Maybe I would have received a more pleasant dream.
	「Aye… aye, you could say that. Though — they are far and rare. I’ve never met one. Just things that lurk in the dark. The ones who take care of that really…」
She pauses to pour more dark fluid down her mouth.
	「Are the Cathedral Knights. Though, that’s for if they, you know, get out.」
She speaks more with her hand, motioning with the glass, spilling.
	「Everyone else who comes here, comes for the Hollow.」
	“The hollow?”
Serith’s face remains a mask. Her finger traces the rim of the cup.
	「At the bottom of The Abyss. Something that grants wishes. Your deepest desire. The only reason you get… all these people. Wealth. Fame. Whatever you want.」
She loses her bravado at the trail end of her words.
	「Yes. The Hollow. The wish granter. Whatever you wish to call it. The call summons people to sojourn to its depths. You must have had something you wished for, since we found you there.」
Something I wished for? Not this. I just wanted… what did I want, anyways? I can’t seem to recall my regrets. Though, I know I had them. My hands reactively grab at the pain in my chest.
	「I won’t push.」
Serith continues.
	「But, you understand the situation we are in, yes?」
	“Well enough.”
She doesn’t ask if I have any complaints. Edra too. I’m not in the position to have them.
	「Alright! You 」 sleep on the floor tonight. Tomorrow, we see what the Eyrie has for requests. Objections?」
	Edra raises her voice, throwing her mug in the air. Serith smiles politely, clinking hers against Edra’s. Tomorrow, huh? The thought feels strange. My legs raise on autopilot. Guiding me back to the room they dragged me from. The clutter of materials and ink, unchanged. My body collapses to the floor. My bones sag in my skin. Sleep comes quickly.

Tomorrow. The tower.