The Spire of Kindling was the tallest thing in the world. It’s light, that bright golden orb that nurtured all life was the source of the world’s warmth. All life was kindled with the Spire’s brilliance. Where its light didn’t reach slowly died, grass became moss, animals became beasts who ravaged the land.

Anything that blocked the light of the Spire was a sin. Or so Ash had been taught. In Serna, buildings were low, with flat roofs, and as little as possible to avoid casting too much of a shadow. Mountains were terrifying, as their shadows reached far and wide, covering vast stretches of land. Where moss grew instead of grass, powerful beasts roamed.

But there were no mountains on this side of the Empire of Parth-Ilathar.

Ash raised his gaze from the vast fields of moss in front of them. He looked north, drawing a sharp breath as he looked upon a tower rivalling the height of the Spire of Kindling, at the centre of a city encased with walls taller than those of Castle Myrkur.

“Such a large shadow…” He whispered in disbelief. The Light of the Spire was sacred.

“Well, that’s a given.” Prince Daith nonchalantly said as he rode his horse past Ash. “Come on, let’s hurry. We’re almost there.”

So much shadow cast upon the land. Ash bit his lips as he touched his mount’s belly with his boot’s heel, prompting it to follow the royal siblings. His gaze lingered on the tower. Why would anyone need such a tall tower? What was this? An attempt to replicate the Spire? The thought alone made him shudder – such a thing wasn’t possible, was it? He wouldn’t believe it. Humanity couldn’t replicate the Light of the Kindling. There was no way.

“What’s wrong?” Princess Aoife’s voice pulled him back to the present.

“We should hurry.” Prince Daith replied with a scowl. “I think they might have caught up with us.” He gestured over his shoulder. “They wouldn’t dare do something to us in view of the Oracle – not while we’re so close to Bhaile-Morn, but I’d rather get behind the walls as fast as possible.”

They rode towards Bhaile-Morn, the capital city of the Empire of Parth-Ilathar. As they approached the gates, the two royal siblings slowed their horses, matching speed with Ash. “Cover your face,” The Princess said. “Don’t talk, we’ll take care of everything. And Ash.” Her golden gaze met his blue eyes. “Don’t speak of anything that happened here to anyone – unless they show you this sigil.” She showed a ring on her finger. It was a sigil ring – a heron, and a snake coiled around it, attached to a thin, elegant silver band. “Nothing went as planned, and the last thing I need is more trouble.”

Ash nodded, then turned his gaze at the walls of Bhaile-Morn once more. Built from large blocks of marble, they were once clearly white as a pearl. Now however, moss had begun to climb on the walls, along the edges of the blocks making up this gigantic wall. Small watchtowers dotted the wall every several hundred paces, giving the guards an even better vantage point, but even these watchtowers were overgrown with moss, covered in dirt, and generally not well maintained.

The gate they approached was made of metal. Ash couldn’t imagine how they even opened or closed it. The strength needed to move this thing must have been immense. Magic, he concluded as they passed through, and entered the city. They were using magic to move these gigantic gates.

Ash looked around wide eyed as a pair of guards approached. He ignored them as Princess Aoife spoke with them with a low voice, and instead looked around him, at the city he had been wanting to visit ever since that Enforcer chose him at Serna’s little plaza.

A wide, clean street split the city in half, starting right at this gate, stretching all the way to the gigantic tower seemingly made to rival the Spire of Kindling. Like the walls and the tower, everything in the city was constructed from marble blocks. The streets were so clean, it almost hurt his eyes. The houses were neatly built next to one another, with small, clover lawns in front.

He noticed shops on the western side of the city, each of them having a small sign by their entrances. They were too far for him to read, but they were all shaped similarly. He scowled as he looked around, unable to shake this odd feeling that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Something annoyed him about the city, it disturbed him. Perhaps it was the tower’s shadow – it was so vast, he couldn’t help but be convinced the people who lived inside it wanted to rival the gods. Who else would ever dare cast such a shadow?

“Let’s go.” Princess Aoife’s voice pulled him away from his thoughts. They led their horses towards the tower, hurrying to arrive before the Spire’s light began to dim. Most of their day was spent on the road, after all.

“Remember Ash,” She spoke with a low voice. “Whatever you do, keep your mouth shut about me and Daith. When asked, just let people know that the convoy you were with was attacked, and you were lucky to escape.” Ash didn’t need to hear more to notice the underlying threat in her words. She glared at him until he nodded. She then rummaged through her cloak’s inner pockets. It took her a few moments to find what she was looking for.

Stolen novel; please report.

It was a piece of paper, folded in half and sealed with a complex web of her golden mana. “Give this to the first guard you see in the academy. Then ask them to deliver it to the thirteenth inquisitor.” She narrowed her eyes. “The Thirteenth. Don’t forget.”

Ash nodded again as she handed the paper over. He carefully placed it in his pack, between the pages of a book his stepmother had put in there. “The thirteenth inquisitor. I’ll remember.” He promised. Princess Aoife seemed content enough with his answer.

The wide street soon ended by a large, ornate gate. There was a smaller, inner wall around the tower, separating it from the remainder of the city. Unlike the outer walls, the inner wall was pristine despite being in its own shadow. The neatly cut marble blocks left to handholds at all, creating a near perfect wall that seemed to be impossible to climb. There were no cracks or ledges to hold onto, no moss growing in between the blocks.

Again, they were met by guards as they stood before the gate. Unlike the guards at the city entrance, these wore nothing but simple, dark blue uniforms and black cloaks. They carried no weapons, and no protective gear at all. A golden sigil was embroidered on their cloaks – a torch, held up by a hand.

“Give us passage,” Daith spoke as he showed something hidden in his palm. Ash only saw the glint of silver, but the prince hid the object before he could properly see. The guard who approached them immediately nodded, taking a step back and letting them pass through the heavy, metal gates that slowly creaked open.

Ash followed the royal siblings. His heart began to race as they stepped through the gate, finally reaching the High Tower grounds.

Vast gardens stretched from one end of the inner wall to the other. Colourful flowers bloomed despite being in the shadow. The scent of exotic plants filled his nostrils as he gawked at the countless plants he had never seen before.

Some flowers were as large as a small house, while other plants moved constantly. They moved! Pollen floated in the air, despite it not being that season. Trees dotted the fields of flowers occasionally, and even those were foreign to Ash.

But the centrepiece of this place was the High Tower. Made of white marble blocks like the rest of Bhaile-Morn, it was clearly the result of incredible craftsmanship. Intricate carvings adorned its exterior, seamlessly blending with the stone traceries framing its tall windows. Ash couldn’t help but feel like those carvings told many stories – he just couldn’t understand them yet.

The entrance to the High Tower was just ahead, a tall, wide gate stood open, revealing a wide, circular hall beyond.

“Go through those gates,” Princess Aoife’s voice startled him. He had completely forgotten about them as he gawked at the incredible sights all around him. “And give that paper to a guard. Do you remember who it needs to be taken to?”

Ash nodded. “The thirteenth inquisitor,” He scowled. Both royal siblings had stopped before they reached the entrance. “You’re not coming?”

Princess Aoife shook her head. “No, a lot happened, and I do not believe it was by chance. Not at all. Remember, do not speak of the past events to anyone, unless they show you my sigil.” She turned her mount towards a small path through the fields of flowers. “Study, train hard. Don’t waste a second of your time. Next time we meet, you need to be able to protect yourself. Lord Galdron saw you with us, he has your name and face. You are not safe – I am sorry.”

With that, she gently cued her horse, riding off into the fields of exotic flowers. Daith only hesitated for a moment before taking off. Ash watched them leave, wondering what the Prince hesitated for. He had been with them for only a few days, but suddenly he felt lonely as they disappeared amidst the fields of flowers.

His gaze slowly turned towards the High Tower as a knot formed in his throat. He touched the sides of his horse with his boots, cueing it to start moving again. With each step his horse took towards this monument of power, his heartbeat quickened.

By the time he arrived at the entrance, his hands were wet with cold sweat. It was almost time for the day to come to an end. The Spire of Kindling would soon fade, and the world would once again be covered in the dark of the night. Perhaps because of that, he didn’t see very many people out and about. There were a handful of guards by the entrance, and that was about it.

“Halt!” One of them exclaimed as Ash dismounted and approached the steps leading inside the tower. “Where is your pass? No students should be out at this time!” He approached Ash, his brows furrowed, and fists clenched. “Is it really quite so difficult to follow the damned rules? What’s your name? I’m reporting you-“

“I’m not a student!” Ash cut him off. “Not yet anyways.” He added as the guard’s expression changed from anger to confusion, then to alarm. “What are you doing in the Tower premises?” He asked as his body began to emit a barely visible, green glow. Mana, he was preparing to cast a spell.

“I was supposed to arrive earlier,” Ash quickly explained as he took Princess Aoife’s letter from his pack. “This is to be delivered to the thirteenth inquisitor.” He gave the letter. “Oh, and…” He showed his right hand, where the crimson mark that enforcer left glowed through his glove. “Things happened and I was delayed,” He vaguely explained, hoping the guard would accept his words instead of demanding more information.

The guard raised an eyebrow as he inspected the letter. “I will deliver this to Inquisitor Hawken,” He finally said after a few moments. “Coran, take this kid to professor Jerhia – tell her he was delayed because ‘things happened’.” He smirked, then shot a glance at the horse. “And someone take this horse to the stables.”

Another guard, the one apparently named Coran, stepped up as this guard left in a hurry. “Things happened?” He asked with a smirk as he gestured at Ash to follow him. “You need a better reason than that if you want Professor Jerhia to take you seriously.”