Chapter 10

“Welcome back Climber,” Commander Phyr’s voice pulled me from the nothingness. I opened my eyes as consciousness returned to my mind, as feeling returned to my body. “Congratulations on your first death.” The grizzled man with the dead eyes offered me a small smile.

I looked around, my mind running slowly as it tried to recall everything that had happened. There had been the jaguar and fire. And then the arrows… I looked down at my chest, which was bare, my white skin completely unblemished. There were no signs of the wounds that had stolen my life from me.

My right hand raised to run across the skin, feeling it was indeed smooth, not even a scar remained. Then my eyes caught on my mark. There, in the center of the Ouroboros, was the tower. Just as we’d been told, my mark now matched the mark of all the other climbers in town. I was no longer a recruit. I was a climber.

My eyes shifted around the room. It was a massive room populated by countless beds. There were ornate stained glass windows high on the walls, letting colored light into the room. The glass itself depicted various creatures from within the Tower, as well as weapons, previous climbers, and the likes. I was in the cathedral. I looked around, noting some of the beds were empty, though showed signs of recent occupancy. Others had sleeping figures, my fellow recruits, and others still seemed to be waiting, ready for any who may need them.

The commander looking me over with an inquisitive gaze was sitting against the wall atop a small stool, still wearing his ceremonial armor. His arms were crossed, and his sword rested gently against the wall.

“So, Climber Slate, how far did you climb, before you felt the Tower’s embrace?” He referred to all climbers by their last name. A formality. The man was forever the exemplar of professionalism.

“The second floor,” I said, hanging my head in shame. “I made it to the second floor.”

“Monster, or mishap?” the Commander asked, motioning towards an empty bed a few over from mine. “Idiot that revived in that bed tried to kill a baby gorilla for its pelt and got pummeled to death by its pissed off parent.” He shook his head. “I swear every year recruits give into stupidity and greed.”

“I saw that death,” I said as I replayed Alax’s death in my mind. “Saw him get pummeled by the gorilla.” I opened my mouth to say more but stopped. I didn’t know what all Alax had told the Commander about how he’d died, and it wasn’t my place to mention how… cowardly he’d been when he had died.

“And you didn’t go to help him eh?” The Commander raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“The Reaping is a solo climb, sir.” I stated obediently.

“Aye, that it is.” The Commander let out a heavy sigh, “only thing you can rely on in the Tower,”

“Is yourself.” I finished. The Commander gave me a rare smile.

“Good man.” He said softly. “So then, since you seem to have at least paid attention to my teachings, how’d you die?”

I relayed my story to him, filling him in on my entire climb and plight, though I left out the encounter with the cow, and my mishap with the stream. There were some things the Commander didn’t need to know. Certain things I’d take to the grave… well, that I had already taken to the grave. He sat there and listened intently, letting me tell my tale in full. It was only when I finished that he finally spoke.

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“Bad luck is just as viable a threat in the Tower as is any monster.” He said sagely. “Even the best prepared climb can end swiftly and suddenly. It’s why we train. Why we do all we can to ensure each and every time we step foot inside the Tower, we are ready for anything it throws at us. The Tower itself is neutral, it neither wishes for our success, nor demise. But that is perhaps more dangerous, more deadly, than if it did.”

“How so sir?” I asked.

“Because if it wanted you dead, you’d be able to expect the literal worst possible outcome at every step. And if you knew it wanted you to succeed, well you’d know you could rely on good fortune or luck. But when it’s completely neutral,” he shrugged, “fuck all can happen at any time. Much harder to predict an outcome, when it’s a complete tossup.”

He laughed darkly at that, then took another hard look at me. “Figure you’re ready to complete the final step of the Reaping.” He said solemnly. He motioned towards an altar at the far end of the room, where a black robed priest knelt, back turned to us, in prayer. The back of his robes shimmered, and I could just make out silver embroidery in the shape of the tower, and the Ouroboros. He wasn’t just a priest. He was a Tower Speaker. One of the most powerful of the priests, who answered only to the Tower Keeper. Meaning the highest rank an acolyte of the Tower Keeper could reach.

“Go see the Tower Speaker. He’ll complete the ceremony for you. Once he does, you’ll finally gain the Tower’s Blessing. Afterward,” he smiled, but it was a sad, sad smile. “You’ll officially begin your life as a Climber.”

I stood, realizing as the sheets fell away that I was completely naked. Nudity didn’t phase me, but it did confuse me. What had happened to all my gear? Come to think of it, how had I returned to the cathedral? These were things we’d never been told. Only that for a climber, death in the tower was temporary.

“Sir,” I paused as I stepped past him, my eyes looking over at all of the beds.

“What is it Climber Slate.” He asked gruffly. He’d begun to stand, looking to another bed, and another sleeping form.

“Have you seen Nyle, er, Recruit Minn?” I had looked about but hadn’t seen any sign of him just yet.

The Commander rubbed his chin in thought. Then a pained look crossed his face, as he found whatever memory it was he was searching for.

“I have,” he said slowly. “He had the special distinction of being the first Climber from your class. That is… the first death of the Reaping.”

“How…how far did he make it?” I asked.

“First,” the Commander shook his head in disappointment. “He fell out of a tree and broke his neck.”

It was all I could do to keep from laughing as I made my way to the Speaker. Nyle was never going to live that down.

“Come climber, and join me in prayer,” the speaker said without even turning to look at me as I approached. I silently stepped beside him, my bare feet slapping lightly against the cold stone. My knees pressed into the cold floor, and a shiver ran up my spine, from excitement, and the chill.

“Present your mark to the altar,” the Speaker said. His face was covered by his hood, his features hidden within the deep shadows. “Give yourself to the Tower, and take into yourself, the blessings it has for you.”

I held my hand outwards, lifting the back of my hand towards the Altar. A golden gem in the center of the Altar, which was a stone monolith crafted to look like the Tower, flashed with life. A burning sensation, starting from my mark, flowed through my body. Magic rushed through my veins, stronger than anything I’d ever felt before. A heat entered my mind, and my head jerked backwards with force, as my mouth opened in a silent scream. I felt my eyes widen as I looked upwards, and then my eyes rolled backwards. I saw nothing but pure white, as more and more fire flowed into my body. Then, against a white backdrop, words appeared. An elegant golden script, the exact hue and intensity as the glowing gem I’d seen.

It was a divine revelation, I realized, as I read the script. If I’d been able to, I would have gasped in surprise, as the knowledge and power flowed into me. And then, as quickly as it had started, the force assaulting my body and mind flowed away. The heat eased back, and my body collapsed forward. Tears streamed down from my eyes, as my forehead touched the stone floor in reverent prayer. In that position I closed my eyes and tentatively, cautiously, did as the revelation had commanded.

I focused inward on myself, and willed the power, willed the Blessing of the Tower, to take root, and activate. A single word came to mind, Status, and I mentally uttered it. To my joy and surprise, the power responded, the information playing out in my mind as clear as if I were reading it on paper.