“I’m not sure if I’m up for this.” I say to Luna but it’s as much to myself. It’s a question I’m putting to a still sore and wounded body.

“I know,” she replies tenderly. “I’m sorry, but I think it’s important to do this now.”

“Why?” I ask.

The wheelhouse is bumbling along with the two of us together again.

“Because not everyone agrees with father. And the longer we wait the more resistance there will be.”

We are traveling to the Tower of Magi. But not the one in my visions. We’re going to the elven one, or at least what the tower used to be. A tower that fell centuries ago in the war of the Magi. That famous conflict where only the humans magi stayed loyal to the temple and were able to beat back the usurpers.

“Who is resisting?” I ask.

The elf girl sighed. “The nobles mostly. Some of the clergy too. Remember that no one has accessed elven light in hundreds of years. For someone to go now is at the least…. controversial.”

“But I’m no elf. I wasn’t involved in the war. If there is real elven magic there we could use it to defeat the sorceress.”

I’m also desperate for something to defeat the darkness within me. I remember the black ribbons; I remember the coldness and pain. Maybe this is something to eliminate that evil inside.

“Oh you don’t have to convince me,” Luna replies. “In fact, I think this is the perfect time. I mean who’s to say that someone else wouldn’t try to take our magic by force.”

I open my palms. “I don’t really understand how to get the magic at all, much less take it.”

“That’s the test,” Luna says earnestly. “If you really are the hero then you will be able to connect to the past, to bring forth that which we have lost.”

Like in the visions I have of the past. Of the human tower and the sorceress.

I sigh. “I guess that’s possible. There’s no guarantee though.”

Luna laughs. Her face is radiant with excitement.

“You seem awfully confident,” I say.

She gives me a mock apology. “I’m sorry, my lord, but I do believe I’m getting used to you.”

“Used to me?”

“You like to downplay things, underestimate your own abilities, but you figure stuff out in the end.”

“I do?”

Luna nods. “Of course.”

Is that even true? Beats me.

“Besides,” Luna continues. “You won’t be alone.”

“I won’t?” That is good news. Maybe they are letting the cleric come with me. Here is part of the temple after all.

“Of course not,” Luna continues. “You’ll be able to hear the ghosts of the past, the spirits of the great elven magi who came before.”

Oh, that kind of help.

“You seem awfully confident in me I say. You believe I’m the prophesied one?”

“Ethan,” Luna continues more seriously. “You defeated the dryad and saved our people. You succeeded when our whole army would have failed.”

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

I guess that is a good point. I just know it’s not as simple as being chosen. I have to earn it. And right now I’m not sure I’m in the place to do any action.

“I just wish I was in better shape,” I say.

Luna saddens again. “I know. Like I said, I wish this could have waited. But we need to move while we still had momentum from your victory. Before the resistance could organize. And besides, there’s no army inside the tower. You don’t even need a sword. It’s just walking around.”

Luna makes it sound so easy but in my experience nothing is simple. There’s always some catch and I am still on my guard.

“We’ll see,” I say cautiously.

“Don’t worry,” Luna responds. “You’ll do great.” And she gives me a kiss on the cheek.

Never have I been so excited for a little kiss! I look earnestly at her, gazing at her eyes, trying to read them. I don’t see any love or passion there. Just excitement and caring, affection even. But no love.

Well, you gotta start somewhere.

Besides with Myran on the outs maybe this is my chance.

Kind of douchebag thing to do though: taking advantage of another’s misfortune. But he did try to kill me. So…

“Well, if you believe in me I feel better already.”

Luna beams back at me and for a little while I forget the world and its problems and just enjoy being with her in the wheelhouse.

The path to the tower is narrow and bumpy. Huge limbs hang overhead and sometimes we have to stop so our escort can clear the way. It seems like this part of the wood is unused and abandoned, which makes sense from Luna’ description. It doesn’t feel dark or sinister like the elder wood. It’s just wild.

Our caravan stops and a guard opens the door for us. Luna steps out first and then helps me out. It’s a little emasculating being helped by a princess but I always complain how I never get support from the girls growing-up so I should probably just shut-up about it.

The tower itself is more like a spire, and it’s all wooden so it sort of blends in with the trees all around. It’s significantly taller than the forest though and I don’t love the idea of hundreds of steps.

“There’s no rush,” Luna whispers to me. “Take your time.”

I move slowly to the door and as I get closer the structure seems even more like a tree to me. I can see above where the branches have wrapped themselves around and even though parts of the tower, like the forest is trying to claim it for its own. It reminds me of the nature specials I saw as a kid about the wilderness reclaiming Mayan ruins or a ship decomposing on the ocean floor.

Nature always wins in the end.

I pause in front of the door: it’s old. Like a woman untouched and wrinkled, long abandoned and forgotten, it doesn’t respond to word or touch.

I turn behind me. “Ugh, I think it’s stuck.”

The guard comes forward. Together we pull: nothing. Even Luna comes over and offers her

aid, but the elves make very clear that’s unacceptable.

Etiquette to the last.

After another ten minutes of pushing, pulling, and prying we stop and rest. The elves are panting and I’m right there with them. My escort starts discussing next steps, including sending a messenger to the palace for help or even to the temple to see if any clerics know anything. I move off and sit on a log to rest.

“Nothing here is about strength.” The voice shocks me and I almost fell off the wood. “At least not physical strength.”

Angel is next to me, in her usual girlish form with blonde/blue hair and shimmering eyes.

“Can you not do that?” I ask.

“Do what?”

“Just pop in?”

“I do not move like you do, Ethan. I have no need to walk, or run, or even fly to where I am going. I simply wish it and I’m there.”

“Well, that’s convenient,” I say somewhat sourly. “We can’t even get through that door.”

“Yes, I know. That’s what I meant by strength. It is not amenable to brute force. The towers never are.”

I scrunch my brows. “You mean like there’s a spell on it?”

Angel’s eyes look distant. “A spell? Perhaps. Or maybe it’s more like the wood itself, the way it interacted with the magi who lived here once long ago.”

I sigh. “That’s awfully cryptic.”

Her face brightens and she smiles at me. “I endeavor to keep you hypothesizing.”

“Is that the same as ‘keeping me guessing’?”

“I believe so, yes.”

I roll my eyes. “Angel, I’m not sure verbal communication is your strong suit.”

“Perhaps not. You humans are very different from us angels.”

“That’s for sure,” I say.

For better or worse I guess.

“Why don’t you look at the door again?” Angel asks. “I believe that counts as a practical suggestion.”

It does and I walk back to the wooden slabs that were so resistant to ‘force of arms’. There doesn’t seem to be anything remarkable about it. The door is thick for sure, and old. But that could be said about many things, including lots of the trees all around me. I look at the frame around the door and then above. That’s when I see the inscription.

Only the light-hearted may enter.

I stare at it for a minute and can’t help but feel like Gandalf standing outside Moria.

“What sort of riddle is this?” I wonder aloud.

It can’t really mean only those who are carefree and cheery all the time. What if some grumpy magician wants to enter, or what if someone just had a bad day?

“Speak friend and enter” was what Gandalf solved and spoke the elven word for friend. This doesn’t say anything about speaking though.

Riddles in the dark. Or at least the late afternoon.