I shine my rays, which have greatly recovered from their grand discharge, and the light provides me a nice view of the tower’s interior. It’s quite different from the elven one. Everything is more austere, and smooth.

I guess that’s what you get when you build a tower inside of a mountain.

There’s no paintings on the wall or rugs on the floors. Everything is stone or carved from stone, even the torch holders – which are, of course, empty. The only light is the glow I bring with me.

“Hello,” a voice stays. “I’m glad you made it. I was starting to worry.”

I spin with my light and see the flickering ghost before me. It’s not Angel the angel or Clarith the spirit though. I’m trying to remember the name…

“Shyvanna?” I manage.

The elven ghost smiles slightly. “Very good. I was afraid you’d forget about me.”

No, I haven’t forgotten. I remember the shimmering figure from the elven tower, but am surprised to see her here.

“Have you been following me?” I ask.

Shyvanna shakes her head. “No, I’ve just been here. Waiting. My soul is bound to the towers. It is my penance.”

“Ugh, I guess being stuck in the towers is pretty miserable.”

The spirit shrugs. “I drift in and out of this world. The pain comes from the separation from my body. My soul is stuck here, while my body has died. I need to pass beyond the veil.”

I flinch as the ghost speaks to me. I’ve never had my soul and body split like that.

The ghost smiles. “But before I can do that I have to help you.”

I gulp. “Well, I’ll try to finish my quest as soon as I can then.”

I hate to be the cause of another’s suffering.

“It’s ok,” she says kindly. “I miss this a little actually. Mentoring the younger mages. Or mentoring as much as I can anyway. Come, let me guide you through the tower.”

I fall-in beside her. “You know this place well I gather.”

“Oh, I know all the towers. At least a little bit. The mages would travel between them, and work together before the war. And they aren’t all that different from one another. They follow the same general pattern. Kind of like temples actually. There are cultural differences. But it’s the same services fundamentally. And the same God they all serve. So we all serve the light magic, if different parts of the spectrum.”

Shyvanna was right about the tower. It does have a similar structure. We begin ascending the spiral staircase in the middle of the tower. Up and up we go. This one feels newer somehow than the elven one. Less musty despite being underground. Or maybe because of it actually. Perhaps being buried in a mountain does a better job of preservation than a heavy forest. Here the humidity is low and the rain is non-existent.

A little like dinosaur fossils I guess.

My light glows brighter than any torch and I feel like Gandalft climbing the steps to the top of the tower. Except I’m not sure what to do once I get there.

“So do you know how I actually obtain the goblin magic?” I ask Shyvanna. “Because I’m a little shaky on that part.”

“You have the spectrum within you.”

“The source?” I ask. “You mean the light I have inside.”

“Ethan, the Maker has gifted you the full spectrum. You can channel all the colors. So it is not a matter of ‘taking’ or ‘obtaining’. It has never been about that way, even for those who only had the gift of one color. Whenever you try to reach for what you are not gifted you get calamity. You get the war of the Magi.”

“But why do I burn out then?” I ask.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“What do you mean ‘burn out’?” asks the ghost.

“Earlier, when I tapped all my light it was too much. It drained me completely.”

The ghosts nods. “Yes, that is to be expected. You have to grow with your magic so it can last longer and become more powerful.”

“But how do I do that?” I ask, feeling a little exasperated.

The ghost smiles at me. “If you’ve come this far than I think you already know. When does your light grow brighter? When do you feel stronger?”

I think back to my actions. To my experience using my light. “It seems like when I use my magic for the sake of others – like when I protect someone in battle or act for the good of others – that is when my magic is strongest.”

“Yes,” the elf says excitedly. “That is how the Maker designed it. The greatest mages will be those that serve others instead of themselves. Unless one dabbles in darkness of course…”

The statement is a question without asking the question. “I do still feel it within me. From time to time.”

“But its power weakens,” says the elf. “As you avoid it and as you further develop your light.”

“Will it ever go away completely?” I ask.

The ghost’s eyes narrow. “I can’t say for sure but I doubt it. Like temptation itself, it is something you may have to live with forever. Even if one day it is but a kernel of its former self.”

Shoot.

“Ah,” says Shyvanna. “We have arrived.”

Arrived meaning we have reached the top of the tower. And this time the roof is in place. Or should I say the mountain itself is. There isn’t really a rooftop in the conventional sense. Rather it’s like the tower blends back into the mountain here, like someone got tired of cutting away the stone and just let the rock run its natural course.

“Wow,” I manage.

“Yes,” says the elf. “Each of the towers are impressive in their own way. What do you make of that?”

She points to a statue, or is it a monument? It feels like the latter, given how large it is, and how bereft the rest of the tower is of such stonework. The goblin is nearly naked in the statue, with only a loincloth protecting her privates from view. She brandishes a staff and her eyes are…

Blindfolded?

Maybe the stone has just eroded over the years but it sure looks like there is just a stone strip where the eyes are supposed to be.

Shyvanna is still waiting for me, expecting a response.

“Is the statue missing eyes?” I ask.

“Ah,” says Shyvanna. “I was wondering if you would notice that or the feet first.”

I didn’t notice anything about the feet at all.

I look at them now and see that they’re bruised into the stone, like the toes are melded into the rock, instead of resting on top of it like most statues.

“So this mage was blind and wore no shoes?” I ask.

“This was the first mage. The first goblin mage to channel brown. The color of the rocks on the mountain.”

I’m a little confused. “So she can move rocks?”

Shyvanna chuckles. “The goblins told me that the first one did many things with rock and stone. Because she could use her light to talk to the ground beneath her feet.”

“Shouldn’t I be able to talk to the sun then?”

Shyvanna shrugs. “Who knows. Maybe one day you will.”

Holy crap.

Shyvanna points at the feet again. “Look at how her feet are encased in the rock. The goblins could do that with their light.”

I look down and shake my head. “I don’t understand.”

The ghost extends her own hand and rays shoot out. Ghostly images that fly through the air but do nothing to brighten the room. For they are as ghostly as she is.

“Our magic is so outward facing,” say Shyvanna. “The light help us see a pat, blind or confuse are enemies, even burn our foes when necessary. Everything about elven magic is out there.” She gestures into the distance.

“But not the goblins I take it.”

“Correct,” says Shyvanna. “The brown light is like a slow sludge in comparison. But one solidified it is uncrackable. The ultimate defensive color to protect your own skin or those of others.”

“So it’s like armor,” I say. “Or it can be.”

“Exactly.”

I think back to the human mages and their blue light.

“The humans can do that too,” I say. “They make crystalline barriers over their bodies.”

“Yes,” says Syvanna. “The humans are between goblin and elf. They can do some exterior and some interior.”

“Like offense and defense,” I interject.

“Sort of. They are balanced in that way and can supplement whichever you need to accomplish. Even if their power in both are less than either goblin or elf. Think of the humans as the ultimate support magic. But we are getting ahead of ourselves.”

“Ok,” I say. “Then what’s my next step?”

“Since brown is used in response to danger I think it’s time to threaten your life.”