The imposing stone door of the Infinity Tower loomed before Amriel, its surface intricately carved with ancient runes—symbols of a language spoken by few outside the Keepers. As she traced her fingers over the delicate etchings, hope fluttered within her; perhaps the answers she sought lay just beyond this threshold.

With a gentle push, the heavy door creaked open, revealing the sacred sanctuary of the Goddess. Amriel and Maeve stepped inside, their footsteps echoing through the vast chamber like whispers in the wind.

The air inside the tower was thick with the scent of ancient tomes, a heady blend of parchment and earthy musk that enveloped her senses. As she looked around, Amriel marveled at the meticulous organization of the space. Every inch was thoughtfully utilized, shelves brimming with books, scrolls, and stacks of papers—all meticulously arranged. There was no chaos here; only the promise of knowledge awaited them.

Together, the two women ventured deeper into the tower, their excitement palpable. A figure emerged from the shadows, a young acolyte clad in muddy brown robes, his thin lips pressed into a disapproving line.

“The Goddess welcomes you,” he intoned, his dark, piercing eyes scanning both women with a dismissive air. His thin lips tightened in disapproval.

The Goddess might, Amriel thought, but you certainly don’t. Amriel thought. A sense of unease crept in as she questioned their decision to come here.

The acolyte, no older than sixteen, stood rigidly before them, embodying the haughty demeanor of someone accustomed to privilege. Amriel couldn’t help but wonder how insufferable he would become once he donned the blue-purple robes of a Keeper.

Maeve, unfazed by the acolyte’s condescension, met his gaze with unwavering confidence. “We seek the knowledge of the Keepers,” she declared clearly, her red hair catching the light like a flame.

Born into wealth from her family’s prosperous trade business, Maeve knew how to handle herself among the privileged. She had always possessed an innate ability to command attention, even in the face of condescension.

“I’m afraid the Keepers are currently occupied with their studies,” the acolyte replied, his lips tightening further. “Perhaps I could assist you instead?”

His tone lacked any hint of genuine willingness. If it weren’t for Maeve’s resolute presence, Amriel might have turned on her heel and fled. The atmosphere in the tower was suffocating, and doubt crept into her mind—this place felt less like a sanctuary and more like a trap.

“Then we will wait until they are free,” Maeve insisted, her voice sharp yet measured. “Surely they must surface from their musty books occasionally to take a breath.”

The acolyte’s eyes narrowed, annoyance flickering across his features. Still, he begrudgingly nodded. “Very well,” he said curtly. “Wait here.” With that, he turned on his heel, disappearing into the labyrinth of knowledge surrounding them.

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Amriel exchanged a glance with Maeve—one filled with equal parts relief and apprehension. They were stepping into a world of immense power, and the Keepers were known for their secrecy.

“Thank you,” Amriel mouthed quietly, her heart swelling with gratitude for Maeve's steadfastness. Maeve offered her a soft, encouraging smile, grounding her amidst the uncertainty.

As they waited, Amriel explored their surroundings, her fingers gliding along the spines of ancient books lined up on the circular stone shelves. Each volume whispered secrets of centuries past, the air humming with a hidden energy, as if the very walls were alive with wisdom. Here, in the presence of the Goddess, she felt a spark of hope.

After what felt like an eternity, the acolyte returned, but this time he was accompanied by a tall figure draped in flowing blue-purple robes. The newcomer radiated authority, his neatly trimmed golden hair framing a face that bore piercing blue eyes—eyes that seemed to assess their very souls.

One of the Keepers, Amriel thought, studying the man’s commanding presence.

The Master Keeper’s gaze swept over them, sharp and penetrating. “Jeffrey informs me you requested an audience with a Keeper. What is it you seek?” he asked, his voice deep and resonant, echoing through the room.

In that moment, the temperature seemed to drop, the air turning icy with his scrutiny. There was no kindness in his expression, only the same cold judgment she sensed from the acolyte. Amriel's heart raced; the weight of expectation bore down on her, and she wished desperately for Maeve’s confidence.

Stepping forward, she fought to keep her voice steady. “I seek answers,” she replied, meeting his gaze with as much courage as she could muster. “I believe the knowledge held within these walls can guide me.”

The Master Keeper’s expression remained unyielding. “What kind of question might a country girl have that is worthy of a Keeper?” he asked, his tone dripping with condescension.

Doubt flooded Amriel’s mind, her resolve wavering. Perhaps this was a mistake? She felt a chill of fear at the thought that this man was as likely to harm her as to help.

Just then, a new voice broke through the tension, high and clear, almost jovial. “The Goddess happily shares her infinite wisdom with all of her children,” the newcomer said cheerfully.

A portly older man rounded the corner, exuding warmth and kindness. The scent of parchment and aged books trailed behind him. His thinning grey hair and dimpled cheeks framed a pair of thick spectacles that sat perched on his nose. He wore the robes of a Keeper, but a black sash embroidered with runes similar to those on the door adorned his chest.

As he approached, his welcoming smile lit up the room. “Ah, I see we have visitors! How wonderful!” he exclaimed, turning to Maeve and Amriel with genuine delight.

In an instant, the tension in the room shifted, and Amriel noticed the acolyte and the Master Keeper's demeanor change dramatically.

“Yes, Master Keeper Hodgins,” the younger Keeper murmured, his previous arrogance dissipating.

“Now, more than ever, I believe you both require knowledge,” Keeper Hodgins continued, his voice rich with authority. “Study the Goddess’ teachings; it seems you have forgotten them.”

“Yes, of course,” came the response from both men, their voices suddenly compliant. Amriel struggled to suppress her surprise as she watched the Master Keeper bow his head and retreat like a chastened child, the acolyte trailing closely behind, their hurried footsteps fading into the depths of the tower.

With the two men gone, Keeper Hodgins turned toward the women, his kindly smile reappearing. The warm glow of the room enveloped them, creating an aura of comfort and safety. The weight that had pressed down on Amriel lifted, replaced by a sense of possibility.

“Now then, what knowledge do you seek that brought you to our Goddess?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with genuine interest.