There’s no indication of the windows I saw earlier from outside the building… How strange. Just what sort of place did I get walk into?

Soon, I lose track of how long I spend walking up the stairs. Although it feels to be a prolonged stretch of time, there’s no end in sight. Only darkness scrutinizes my irises when looking either upwards or downwards. There’s nothing except stone steps and walls, a torch to light the way every once in a while.

Higher,

higher,

and higher yet.

I keep walking for Raven knows how long, gradually slowing as my legs grow weary from the hike. A memory from long, long ago stirs itself up from its slumber.

“Little blossom, this one is the high tower.”

Unable to make out the face, only a nostalgic and painful tug at my chest reveals to me that I know this person.

Only my family and the Fae call me by this nickname. The only explanation could be that this person was of Fairfolk nature. However, this reasoning feels wrong somehow.

“Upright, it represents chaos, revelation, and awakening... Potentially destructive transformation.” The woman with golden hair, turns the card around. “But reversed, it symbolizes fear of change.”

A storming pain in my temples causes the vision to break away. The harder I try focusing on the memory, the more the images blur into obscurity. Until, only pure-white snow is blanketed again upon my mind.

Tarot cards, huh? Could a major Arcana possibly manifest in real life?

If so, it doesn’t matter how much I walk. I need to figure out the rules of this reality. Peering around me, it looks to be an infinite loop of masonry and murkiness.

There aren’t many skills I was bestowed upon, save for thinking. So think, Aeriea. If I’m trapped in the high tower, that endless plunge earlier represents the card reversed.

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Am I scared of change?

It was a thought I had never even stopped to consider.

Why would I be…? The University so far has only been filled with friendly encounters. But… Maybe, it’s not referring to that.

Heightening my focus, reflection and introspection come to meet me halfway. What change do I truly fear then?

Failure.

Not being able to meet the expectations my dad hopes of me. Even if he were to never say so, I fear his -

Rejection.

But that’s silly, why would he ever…? Yet somehow, the clear image of dad’s face is burnt into my retinas.

Juniper green eyes devoid of -

Hope.

A pang strikes my heart, causing it to scrunch up in agony. As if it were a catalyst, more and more apparitions begin stalking out.

Silver, blue eyes brimming with -

Futility.

Moss, green eyes teeming with -

Anguish.

Golden, hazel eyes devoid of -

Life;

In that pair of empty eyes lay only -

Death.

My breathing grows shaky, it feels as if I’m hyperventilating. The walls falter all around me, in tune with my quivering lungs. Thunder cracks through the sky, shattering the fortification and the floor beneath. Footing lost, I trip backwards and am once again plunged through the ceaseless sky.

There’s no fog now, replaced only by a raging storm. Harsh rains pelt my face, stinging where it gleans off my skin. Thunder crashes in deafening roars, so loud it causes a numbness that permeates my eardrums.

A flood of images comes in torrents, piercing my heart and leaving it dead in the water.

Panic swells, and all I want to do is run away from all this pain. If the option of fight-or-flight made itself available to me, I would choose the latter. Regardless of where these visions emerged from, it would be better if I could just forget it all.

But, even scarier…

Is the thought of having to see all those eyes anew. Not just in the past or in some eerie vision, but again in reality. In the future. Making the same mistakes; History would repeat itself.

Then what is it that you desire?

I... I want-

I want there to be peace.

A world where Humans, Fairfolk, and Kindred can all live alongside one another.

Where the differences between us, doesn’t mean we have no likeness.

Where understanding is more important than fear.

Where the future matters more than the past.

And I realize these things can only come through

Change.

Storm clouds whirl away in a violet haze, abruptly the rain ruptures away. The sky clears out, allowing thousands of stars to twinkle awake as a full-moon sings brightly.

“It’s beautiful.” I whisper to the air,

and a pair of brilliant hazel eyes smiles tenderly in response.

Wakening from what must have been a nap, an alabaster bird flies off into the horizon. I’m laying in a soft field of grass with no tower in sight. The orange and purple hues of twilight sauntering past my eyes is blurred - My eyes must still be wet from the warm rain of my dream.