A week has passed since I went through the Shivering Pass. The harsh cold winds and snow have been harassing me every step of the way, seeping through my thick coat. Even now, my vision is obstructed by the falling snow being wildly thrown around by the wind. My eyes are half closed to protect them from the snowflakes hurtling past me. The snow is all the way up to my thighs and I can clearly see the path I have taken behind me in the snow, the trail obvious.

I look up and I can guess at something behind the raging snow and winds, a lone structure defying this harsh landscape. Like a shadow behind a veil, I can't really see how big it is, or even how far away it is. I press on at a slow pace, as the tower becomes more visible.

It was closer than I thought. I'm soon standing at the foot of the tower. I look up, unable to see the top in this heavy weather. The grey stone is uncaring about the weather, standing silently. It is simple in design, but imposing in its size. It feels more like a fortress than a tower when standing here. As I search for the entrance, I hear a voice coming from the tower, but see no one around me.

"Welcome to the Grey Tower. I assume you are Reagan?" The voice speaks.

"Yes." I simply respond, my voice raspier than I expected.

"You do know we do not take part in the politics of the world, and not everyone is welcome here." The voice continues. Good start. The wind continues to blow while I wait for the next part.

"Why have you come here, Reagan?" It asks me.

"I have come to understand and study the soul." I respond. I have been thinking about what to tell them for the past week, and from what I understand this is probably my best chance of getting in. The Grey Tower is made up of mages doing research, far from the politics of the world, and if I come with the goal to do research myself, well they should have to let me in.

I wait for an answer but none comes. My hands and feet have gone numb from the cold, but I guess they have to discuss this between themselves before accepting me. After another eternity of waiting, that probably wasn't more than ten minutes, I hear the voice once more.

"If what you say is true we will welcome you into the Grey Tower, however, you are not a mage. At least not to anyone's knowledge. How could you even begin to study the soul then?" Stingy old bastards, let me in so we can discuss this inside.

"I have acquired a skill, [Soul Manipulation] that lets me inspect and tinker with my own soul." I hear a gasp and people talking before the sound is cut off. So a group of them are supervising this, discussing if they should let me in. I wait yet again before another response comes.

"We have decided to let you in, however, as this is a most unconventional situation, we warn you that your stay could end at a moment's notice. Does that seem acceptable to you?" He asks like they are being magnanimous. I nod with a sigh and a small part of the wall opens.

I hurry inside, the wall closing behind me. Inside, blue floating lights illuminate the small room. The same looking grey stone decorates the wall, but with a softer feel. No runic language or any magic in sight yet, strangely normal for a mage tower. I look around and see nothing but a small wooden door.

I open the door slowly and peek at what is beyond. A young mage in grey robes look back at me.

"Welcome to the Grey Tower, if you would follow me, the council wants to speak with you." He tells me, in a bored tone. Despite him being a young mage the hairs on my neck raise in warning. I still don’t like mages, which might make this whole plan stupid, but they are also the only ones that can probably help me.

Refraining myself from asking questions right now, I stay silent as I follow him. As we pass a corner, the central room of the tower comes into sight. I cannot help myself from gasping at the view. A small garden can be seen in the middle, surrounded by workshops of all kinds, magic permeating everything. Small wisps of light can be seen moving about, but most of all, the tree in the middle. It's not taller than an average tree, only runes can be seen glowing on it, shifting constantly, several mages surrounds it and are taking notes. It's green leaves even seem to glow slightly, giving them an unearthly feel.

"Yeah, that was my first reaction too." The mage in front of me tells me.

"It's a wonder, an accident really with implications we still cannot fathom, nor replicate." He tells me, no more bored.

"Grandmaster Talbot was originally only trying to modify a tree to another type of tree with magic. But something went wrong on someone else's project, their rituals got mixed up somehow, something that had never happened before, and the result was this tree. It's fascinating! The runes on its bark are completely unknown, and the tree is actually not a tree, but pure mana given form." Looking at it more closely I notice the tree is very slightly transparent. Barely noticeable at first but I can see it now. He turns to look at me with a knowing smile on his face.

"Do not worry, you'll have time to look at it later." He tells me like he knows I can’t wait to study it. I nod and stop looking at it, but I’m pretty sure I’m not going to study that thing. We continue to circular stairs that snake their way up. We follow the stairs for a rather long time. Until the top it seems as we get off once there are no more stairs to climb. We go through wooden double doors and enter a large room. There is no furniture here apart from a large rectangular table, with several mages sitting and reading notes or writing something down around it.

"Ah, Reagan, we were waiting for you." An old looking mage tells me. It's the same voice I heard when I was outside.

"How rude of me, let us present ourselves. I am Drail, the spokesperson of this assembly." He continues to present all nine members of the council, giving them each a lengthy presentation that I mostly forget immediately.

"You must understand, we have never before accepted someone here who is not a proper mage. As such we decided to let you defend yourself as to why you should be allowed to stay here. Your skill in particular interests a few here who would like to know more and have a chance to study it." He pauses and someone else uses this opportunity to speak up.

"I believe it is a mistake to let you stay here, with a bounty that high, we would no longer be safe from the politics of the world. You didn’t deny that you aren’t a mage earlier and so I do not think you should get to stay." He says. His position is clear, he is against me staying here.

"Ah but you are forgetting something essential here, dear colleague, he is a user of powerful Skills, is he not?" Another one chimes in.

"What is your point, Howard?" The other replies annoyed.

"Are physical skills not another form of magic as well? Let me take an example to illustrate my point. This man here is known to be able to use [Burst of Speed], correct?" He asks and I nod, surprised at their knowledge about me. Have they disclosed all of my information?

"[Burst of Speed], makes, as you all know, someone faster than should be possible by all basic laws of the world. It changes the user, like magic changes the environment, does it not?. Is it not then, that he is simply another type of mage?" He looks around the table, several of them sighing or murmuring something along the lines of 'not this again'.

"You cannot seriously call him a mage by that standard! Every warrior would then be mages. I understand that our understanding of Skills is limited and that you have wanted to study someone with a notable skill for a while, but I do not accept that definition of a mage. A mage is someone who wields mana to change the world as he sees fit." The one who stands against me argues. Several others nod around the table. The mages continue to argue and it seems most are against calling me a mage by any means. I didn't want to reveal this much, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

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"Would a mage have to use mana as its source thought?" I ask. Getting no reaction as they continue to argue, I repeat myself loud enough to get their attention, and they seem to grudgingly give me attention.

"Without using mana? Preposterous." Not everyone seems to agree with him and are instead curious as to where I am going with this.

"Would it be alright for me to show you something of a spell in here?" I ask, and I see that I have their full attention now.

"What kind of spell are we talking about here?" One of them asks.

"Just let the man do it. I'm curious." One of them speaks up. Others nod in agreement and I take that as permission.

I'm not sure what kind of spell I want to use, as most of what I used came to me naturally in battle. I ponder it for a second before deciding on something pretty basic. I draw strength yet again from the evil within me. I hear gasps as I draw the power to my right hand. I picture the result I want and soon, a small jet of fire shoots out of my hand. Contrary to the image, however, the fire is not natural, but is dark red, closer to the color of thick blood than bright fire.

"How..." Exclamations of disbelief are heard in an otherwise silent room.

Suddenly they burst into a frantic discussion about what just happened.

"I didn’t even see any mana!" One of the exclaims, shocked.

"Why do you think his eyes turned red?" Another one asks his colleague.

"This is a huge discovery, the implications of it!" Yet another voice overlaps with the first ones.

"Could this be the result of a skill?"

"That wasn't an artifact either, I would have felt the mana!"

This continues on for a while before Drail speaks up to get order back in the room.

"I take it we can all agree that Reagan qualifies as a mage? An unconventional one, by any standards, but a mage nonetheless." He says in a booming, authoritative voice. All seem to agree but for the one that made the objection earlier who is looking suspiciously at me.

"But before we let you leave to your new quarters Reagan, would you care to explain what you did just now?" He asks and all the mages stare at me. Curiosity undisguised.

"At a later date, I'm afraid. I'm exhausted by my journey here and so would kindly like to ask where my quarters are so I can rest." I say diplomatically. Plus, I do not believe I should tell the truth here. I'm not even sure how to actually explain it. I need some time to figure out what I'm going to tell them. I can see several of them are disappointed.

"Ah, yes, understandable. Very well, an apprentice will show you to your room." The same guy that guided me here takes me down the stairs again. His regard for me has changed though and he looks at me with curiosity in his eyes.

"Do you know of any mage named Bianca that resides in the tower?" I ask him.

"Bianca? Yes, of course. Do you know her?" He looks at me like his stare might yield answers.

"Yes, after you show me where my room is, could I trouble you to help me find her?" Thank god she is here. It'll make it easier to have at least one person I can trust in this place. If they thought dissecting me would reveal my secrets I don't doubt that's what they would do in a heartbeat.

"Perhaps. I'd be more inclined to help you if you would agree to explain everything regarding that... power, tomorrow morning." Greedy bastard. I guess I could try to find her, but I'll have to explain it to the council anyway, might as well start with this guy.

"Sure." He looks happy about that. After guiding me to my room, we walk three doors over and stop.

"This is Bianca's room. See you tomorrow." He says as he goes into the room opposite hers. Little shit, it was so close I probably didn't even need his help. Calming myself, I stand in front of her door. I hesitate to knock. I feel nervous. I haven't talked to her in years. I wonder if she is still the same carefree, joking person she used to be, but I fear this tower has changed her. She is the only mage in this world that I somehow came to trust.

Bracing myself, I knock on the door. I wait for a bit before knocking again slightly harder. Finally, the door opens. Her face goes from surprised to a bright smile before we hug. After the short hug, we part and she invites me into her room. It's more like a laboratory though.

"How are you? It has been ages!" She says.

"I've been better." I say honestly, more relaxed in a conversation than I have been for a long time. I look at her and notice nothing has really changed in that aspect. She is still a petite woman with short blond hair and a charming smile. Not the stunning beauty kind, not especially beautiful or pretty. Slightly above average? Seems about right. Still, she has a certain charm to her.

"Hey, what's wrong?" What? I feel a tear sliding down my chin. I wipe it away, not really understanding why that happened and when I try to talk I feel my voice hard to find.

"I've got a lot to tell you." I finally manage to get out.

“I bet you do, what are you even doing here?” She asks, and I can see she is both happy and confused. I’ve already decided I would tell her everything. If anyone can truly help me, it is her.

I start by telling her about the expedition. With how I got somehow infected by a demon, how I accidentally slaughtered a village, how I managed to contain it by fucking up my soul, how I had to run away in Alverton and at last how I killed every one of the bounty hunters at the shivering pass. She looks at me, and asks a question I wasn't ready to hear.

"Gods above Reagan. I can’t even fathom what you went through. But when you talked about the bounty hunters, you seemed as sad as when you talked about the village. Why? I mean I understand killing the villagers might have been traumatizing, but still, you are a hardened warrior and I never thought it would affect you this much." She stays as neutral as possible, not judging me and I know she simply wants to understand.

"You don't understand. When I killed them, it was the same. It was like killing all those villagers all over again." Images of the slaughter of the villages comes to mind and I think back on all that has happened.

"It's the powerlessness, the feeling like I can't choose what to do." Somehow that's wrong. As I hear myself saying that, it suddenly hits me. This terrible feeling of guilt, and why it has plagued me so. My expression must have changed because she tries to gently make me continue.

"Yeah?" She encourages me.

"Not that's not it. I actually hate that I killed the villagers, but it’s only adding on top of the true reason. The bounty hunters shouldn't have affected me at all, I knew it was kill or be killed deep down. No Bianca, it's because I did something terrible." I pause, trying to get myself to calm down at the thought of what really bothers me. Oh god, how could I have forgotten? I know I never forgot, I just buried it as deep as possible. Trying to deny it completely.

"I did something terrible Bianca. I-I killed Max." I struggle to get it out without wavering.

"I killed him just as all hell broke loose. I didn't even hesitate. He attacked me because of the demon's influence. I had to defend myself, but I killed him instead of simply warding him off while I dealt with the artifact containing the demon. I've been avoiding the truth as much as possible, every other kill making me subconsciously think about it. Like I kill him again and again." I bury my head in my hands. Tears streaming out. Why didn't I at least hesitate? Would it make it better? If only I had been stronger, more skilled. Enough to not be on autopilot, enough to see it coming to actually register what the hell I was doing. I want to make more excuses, to lessen the burden, to tell myself it was because of the frantic fighting, the panic all around, the need to survive at all costs. But I know it's only that. Excuses.

Remembering his last moments somehow only makes it worse. His knowing smile, trying to tell me that it's ok. I want to hate him at this moment. Telling myself that it's his fault somehow, for not resisting, for making me feel this way, for being my best friend. The moment passes and I'm just left there, numb. Silence reigns in the small room for a while. I slowly get up without meeting her eyes, as I have for the last part of this conversation. I slowly get out without looking back at her, unsure of what expression she has right now.

"I, I'm sorry." I say as I get out, not waiting for a response.

As I lay down on my bed, I close my eyes, and all I can see is memories with Max. Our debut as adventurers, our first silver quest together, the time we started the Trusted Steel Company and his wide smile on all occasions. No tears come as I recall the time spent with my best friend, only tired resignation and heartache. I killed him with my own two hands, with full control, and I'll have to live with it for the rest of my life. I've lost companions before, the pain always lessened with time. But this pain is different, he didn't just die, I killed him. I slowly fall asleep in the strange tower, my first night in a somewhat safe environment, grief and guilt filling my mind as I slowly wander into dreamland.