Somadina was already feeling foolish by the time the Tower unceremoniously deposited him into the pool. The water, shallow and bitingly cold, shocked his system awake with startling clarity. Rai squawked in outrage at this ill treatment and took flight at once, abandoning him to the chilly embrace of the pond.
And so the young man found himself alone in a slow, depressing trudge through the shoulder-deep water. The liquid seemed to cling to him, as if reluctant to let go, and by the time he finally dragged himself out, his mood had plummeted to new depths. The grounds surrounding the pool were rough and treacherous, slick with a film of emerald slime that glowed faintly in the dim light. Somadina, however, paid no mind to the sharp stones that dug into his skin as he collapsed onto the banks, drawing his knees up to his chest.
Rai landed shortly after, her wings folding gracefully as she settled beside him. She looked up at her human with large, questioning eyes and let out a soft, concerned meow.
"I don't know what is wrong with me," Somadina said, his voice barely above a whisper. He ran a hand through his wet hair, droplets of water cascading down his face like tears. "I did it again. I don't know why, but I keep doing it. Something bad happens—a Direbeast attack, my mother dying, and now this—and the only thing I can think to do is run. Like a coward."
Rai brushed a wing across his face, the soft feathers a gentle caress against his damp skin. He raised his head and stared at her with empty eyes.
"I'm an idiot," he announced quietly. "I mean, what did I expect would happen? They're nobles, and even banished, they're still Vassal Heirs. Even Oseloka Oma, a Sage of the Six, wants them. Each of them is a cultivation prodigy, and I'm... I'm just me."
The owlcat meowed again, more insistently this time, but Somadina ignored her, determined to wallow in self-pity. But Rai would not be denied. She kept yowling and scratching, her claws leaving light marks on his already battered skin, until he finally broke and lifted her by the scruff of her neck.
"Okay, okay, I get it," he said, exasperation colouring his tone. "Have mercy on my shins, please." He stared into her liquid, black eyes. "I get what you're trying to say, alright? Things will get better and all that."
Rai sniffed indignantly, as if saying 'duh,' and squirmed free. With a single sweep of her wings, she brought herself to a perch atop his head, her talons gently gripping his damp hair. Somadina let out a long-suffering sigh, then smiled despite himself and gave her head a quick pat before rising to his feet.
Finally taking the time to study his surroundings, Somadina realised they were in some sort of cave-like area. The walls, dark and almost unnaturally smooth, glistened with moisture, giving the impression of being inside some great beast's gullet. Much of the interlocking stonework was worn with age, testament to the countless years this place had stood. The ceiling above was ripe with an infestation of softly wriggling mirrorvines, their silver leaves reflecting what little light there was, creating an ethereal, starry effect. Patches of frostweeds clung to the damper areas, their eternally cold leaves creating small pockets of mist where they grew.
The way out was a thin, almost unnoticeable crack in the wall, half-hidden behind several thick bushes of hibiscus and allamanda shrubs. Their vibrant flowers seemed out of place in this dim, damp environment, yet they thrived, adding splashes of colour to the otherwise gloomy scene. Still though, Somadina took the time to check that none of the vegetation was actually half-awakened earthborn hiding poison barbs or other nasty surprises.
Satisfied that the plants were just that - plants - he began to pick his way cautiously forward. But the shrubs weren't entirely interested in letting him pass unscathed. Even though they weren't poisonous, they still had thorns and jagged branches that clung to him and Rai, as though unwilling to let go. After a few seconds of cursing and his owlcat's irritated hissing, they managed to push through, emerging on the other side with minor scrapes and scratches as their only penalty for passage.
Thankfully, the next area didn't seem as intent on making his life miserable. Somadina found himself at the edge of a vast forest, a breathtaking collection of giant iroko and mahogany trees that stretched as far as the eye could see. Their trunks, wider than he could wrap his arms around, rose majestically towards the sky, their canopies so dense that they formed a living ceiling high above. Green ferns carpeted the forest floor, interspersed with large vines that sprouted sporadically from the tree trunks, creating natural ladders to the heavens.
The sun, or something that worked similar to it in this strange realm, glared down through the dense canopy. Bright spears of light filtered through the few spots where the forest cover gave way, creating dappled patterns on the ground that shifted and danced with the gentle breeze. The sheer mass of the foliage made Somadina feel small, like an insect looking up at a race of uncaring, towering gods.
A soft wind swept through the forest, cool against his still-damp skin. The air was thick with the sweet smell of flowers in bloom, a heady perfume that seemed to awaken something primal within him. Despite his earlier mood, Somadina found himself relaxing, his troubles momentarily forgotten in the face of such natural beauty.
Following the enticing scents, his eyes were drawn to several clusters of fruits peeking through a small garden of ferns. One particular fruit caught his attention - a bright, vibrant red that seemed to glow with an inner light. It was so captivating that Somadina almost missed the baboon. Fortunately, Rai's keen senses were not so easily distracted. She yowled a warning, tightening her grip on his hair, causing him to whirl about in a sudden panic.
But the animal made no move to attack. It merely cocked its head, studying him for a heartbeat before showing its fangs in what might have been a smile - or a threat.
"You're late," it said, its voice gruff yet oddly melodious. "He's been waiting for a long time."
It was a measure of how odd Somadina's life had become that he didn't even react to this talking animal. At that point, such occurrences were his least cause for concern. Instead, he frowned a little, trying to understand what manner of creature stood before him.
"You're not a soul beast," he said, his brow furrowed in concentration. "You don't seem to have any fusions."
The baboon's eyes flashed with something akin to anger. "Of course I'm not a soul beast, you simple child," it barked, its voice echoing through the forest. "I am an idiok, a guardian of a Tower and walker of worlds. I am closer to what you call Firstborn than that pretentious hybrid sitting on your shoulder."
Rai sniffed, a clear sign of her displeasure, but surprisingly left it at that. Maybe there was some truth to the baboon's claims. Yet, Somadina had met a Firstborn before, had felt the raw power that rippled forth from their mere presence. This creature, impressive as it was, didn't feel anything like that. Perhaps these idiok were minor members of the celestial hierarchy? Like the lesser spirits that were kin to the Firstborn.
In any case, Somadina endeavoured to keep his expression neutral. It couldn't hurt to be polite.
"My apologies," he said, bowing his head slightly in respect. "I came as quickly as I could."
The idiok eyed him suspiciously, as though it sensed a lie in his words. Then, apparently satisfied, it spun around and began bounding away, its powerful legs carrying it swiftly through the underbrush.
"I suppose it's of no concern if you're late. You've arrived, and that's all that matters," it called over its shoulder, not caring if Somadina would be able to keep up or not. "But it's nearly too late. We don't have much time left."
As if in agreement, the earth rumbled beneath their feet, a deep, ominous sound. The baboon sped up even more, its form becoming a blur as it raced deeper into the forest.
Somadina's Disciple body proved its worth as he gave chase, his enhanced physique allowing him to keep pace. The thick trees began to flash by as they raced through the forest, the world becoming a green blur punctuated by flashes of sunlight. As they ran, Somadina caught glimpses of other furry masses like his guide, darting in and out of the foliage. Some carried scrolls, while others clutched strange devices that pulsed with an otherworldly light. The trees themselves seemed to part for them; pathways and gaps opening up in places where he could have sworn there weren't any before.
But Somadina didn't have much time to wonder about these mysterious beings or their arcane tools. Abruptly, the trees ended, and he found himself looking up at a mountain that seemed to have sprung up out of nowhere. Its craggy face was scarred by time and the elements, but what caught Somadina's attention was the cave carved into its side. It was not unlike the one he'd found in the Forest of Dreams, a memory that felt like it belonged to another lifetime.
Glowshrooms sprouted periodically inside the cave mouth, their bioluminescent caps casting an eerie, blue-green light that illuminated the way forward. The sight was both beautiful and unsettling, like much of what he'd encountered in this strange place.
"He's waiting," said the idiok, its voice gentler now, almost reverent. "I must join my brothers and sisters and prepare. Good luck."
Before Somadina could ask what they were preparing for, the baboon was gone, melting into the shadows as if it had never been there at all. He found himself standing alone before the cave that loomed open like a giant's maw, ready to swallow him whole.
He hesitated, suddenly very afraid of what awaited him inside. What could a Sage possibly want with him? Perhaps to punish him for daring to bond with his Clan's Firstborn? The weight of his actions, of his very existence in this world of cultivation and ancient powers, pressed down on him like a physical force.
Rai, sensing his trepidation, meowed softly and rubbed against his neck encouragingly. Her familiar presence was a balm to his frayed nerves.
"You're right," he said, petting her and taking comfort from her warmth. "I'm being stupid again. We've come too far to turn back now. Let's do this."
The owlcat purred her assent and leapt off his shoulders, disappearing into the cave in a thrice. Somadina took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the crisp mountain air. He closed his eyes for a moment, centering himself, then stepped forward into the unknown.
This cave, thankfully, was well lit and much shorter than the previous one. The glowshrooms grew in greater abundance here, their light strong enough to cast defined shadows on the rough stone walls. Before long, Somadina found himself standing in a vast chamber, one he recognized from his dreams, with the minor exception that it was much bigger than he had imagined.
Rai took flight, letting out excited noises as she circled above, but Somadina paid her little mind. His attention was fixed on the rows of softly humming giant artefacts and pillars alive with Enchantments. The power emanating from them was great and heavy on his spiritual senses, like standing in the eye of a storm. Runes and sigils he couldn't begin to comprehend crawled across their surfaces, pulsing with an inner light that seemed to beat in time with his heart.
But even this awe-inspiring display wasn't enough to distract him from the man standing in the middle of it all, watching him with eyes that seemed to hold the wisdom of ages. He'd somehow gotten even older since the last time Somadina had seen him, his face a map of wrinkles and age spots. He leaned heavily on a staff that looked to be made of some dark, polished wood, inlaid with strips of gleaming metal that caught the light.
The old man hobbled over to Somadina, the chains around his limbs jingling hypnotically with each step and studied the young man carefully, his gaze seeming to pierce through to Somadina's very soul.
"You are much smaller in person," the Sage of the Taleweaver observed, then smiled, displaying a set of perfect teeth. "Welcome to the Mind of the Tower," he said, his voice carrying the weight of centuries. "We have much to discuss."
***
Kainene stood motionless, her eyes fixed on the slowly dissolving body of the Aberration. The creature's form shimmered and wavered, like heat rising from sun-baked earth, as it gradually faded from existence. The acrid stench of ozone and decay lingered in the air, defying the cool wind that whispered through like a song. With a weary sigh, she turned to Olisa. "We need to talk."
Olisa twitched at her words but remained silent. His gaze bore into the ground as if it had personally offended him, his knuckles dark as he gripped his staff. The weapon still pulsed with the remnants of his sound anwansi, a faint humming that filled the air around them. The short, winding tunnel they had tumbled through when the Tower ceased its ethereal glow had deposited them here – a vast, open-ended chamber that stretched out beyond the limits of their vision.
The room was a stark contrast to the cold, sterile corridors they had navigated earlier. Here, nature seemed to have reclaimed its territory, albeit in an unnaturally ordered manner. Just beyond the small clearing where they stood, the ground erupted into a sea of vegetation. Long, yellow-brown stalks of millet swayed gently, intermingled with the rough-textured leaves of wheat and the dried, rattling husks of maize. The crops stood unnaturally tall, easily reaching Kainene's shoulders, creating a maze-like quality to the landscape.
Above them, a shockingly blue sky curved gently across the field. Kainene was almost certain it was an illusion – no sky could be that perfect, that serene. Fat, white clouds drifted lazily across the expanse, casting slow-moving shadows on the crops below.
But dominating everything and rising imperiously from amidst the plants like long-forgotten sentinels, were the pyramids of treasure. Dozens of these structures glittered enticingly, their surfaces adorned with shiny manilla coins and mysterious artefacts. The pyramids varied in size and composition – some were little more than waist-high piles of gold, while others towered over the crops, their sides smooth and precise as if cut from a single block of precious metal.
Kainene and Olisa had been making a beeline for one of the smaller structures when disaster struck. This particular pyramid had caught their eye not for its size, but for its contents – among the glittering coins, they had spotted several packs of Restoration Pills, their soft glow unmistakable even from a distance. It was then that the Direling had sprung its ambush, using the thick vegetation to conceal its approach until the last possible moment.
As the last wisps of the Aberration disappeared in a faint whisper of smoke, Kainene felt the full weight of exhaustion settle upon her shoulders. She turned to Olisa once more, her voice tinged with a mixture of fatigue and frustration. "Olisa, please. Just look at me."
Again, he made no reply. Instead, he moved towards the pyramid they had originally targeted, his movements tense and guarded. He inspected the pile closely, his trained eyes searching for any sign of traps or further danger. Satisfied that it was safe, he seized one of the packs of Restoration Pills and ripped it open with more force than necessary. Without a word, he tossed one of the softly glowing tablets to Kainene.
"Eat that quickly," he said, his voice hoarse and strained. "I doubt a treasure room of this size would only have one Direling guarding it. We'll need all our strength if we are to safely find the others."
Kainene hesitated, watching as Olisa strode towards a second pyramid, his body language clearly indicating his desire to avoid her gaze. With a small sigh, she popped the pill into her mouth, feeling it dissolve instantly on her tongue. A wave of warmth spread through her body as the pill took effect, the bliss of her strained core rapidly refilling. Yet, even this sensation offered little comfort in the face of the tension between them.
Pushing aside her unease, Kainene hurried after Olisa, her eyes scanning the field around them for any sign of movement. The crops swayed gently in a breeze she couldn't feel, creating an unsettling illusion of life in the otherwise static room. As they approached the next pyramid, she found herself studying the treasures more closely, trying to distract herself from the heavy silence between them.
This new pile yielded not only enough manillas to refill their long-depleted money satchels but also brand new staffs for both of them. The coins clinked softly as Olisa scooped them into his bag, the sound oddly muffled in the vast chamber. Ignoring the wealth for a moment, Kainene focused on the weapons before them.
Her staff was a slender but elaborate iroko carving, its deep brown surface polished to a soft sheen. Numerous majorglass studs peppered its length, catching and refracting the ambient light. As her fingers closed around the wood, the studs flickered to life, pulsing in sync with the brown and orange flow of her anwansi and the staff seemed to hum in her grip, as if greeting a long-lost friend.
Olisa's staff, by contrast, was a true work of art. Short and almost plaited in appearance, it seemed to be made of wood that had somehow been rendered as clear as the finest glass. As he grasped it, the staff began to attune to him, its transparency deepening to match the searing turquoise of his affinity. Olisa examined it for a beat, then swung it experimentally. A flare of his anwansi rippled along the staff, rapidly retwisting the whorls of wood to form an exquisite flute.
Fascinated despite herself, Kainene watched as Olisa repeated the transformation several times, the staff shifting fluidly between forms and found herself smiling despite herself.
“Somadina would have loved this,” she said, almost in a whisper.
And regretted it immediately. Olisa stiffened and turned to her with an expression as cold as ice.
"Yes," he said, his voice dangerously low. "You would know that, wouldn't you?"
Kainene's answering frown was just as swift, a surge of defensive anger rising within her. "And what is that supposed to mean?"
Olisa ignored her question, turning on his heel and starting to walk away. But Kainene had had enough of his silence and evasion. With quick strides, she moved to block his path, her eyes flashing with determination.
"We can't keep avoiding this," she said, her voice firm despite the tremor of anxiety that ran through her. "We might as well talk about it now. What was that supposed to mean, Olisa?"
He met her gaze, his eyes a storm of conflicting emotions. "Don't pretend with me, Kainene. Don't think I haven't noticed you two growing closer."
"Oh? And you haven't?" She crossed her arms, her stance defensive. The crops around them seemed to lean in, as if nature itself was eavesdropping on their confrontation. "Stop dancing around it. What's really eating you?"
Olisa's hands curled into fists. When he spoke, his voice was tight with suppressed emotion. "You heard him. What was he talking about back there? About the pond and loving... us. What happened with you two?"
Oh.
Kainene opened and closed her mouth a few times, trying to find the right words. But Olisa was staring at her. Olisa who knew her so well, who could read the minute expressions that flitted across her face. It wasn't much of a surprise when the anger melted from his features, quickly replaced by a look of utter despair.
"You didn't..." he began, his voice barely above a whisper. Then, as if accepting an inevitable truth, "Of course, you did. You kissed him. Didn't you?"
She gave a small nod, shame colouring her cheeks. The crops around them seemed to rustle in judgement, the sound amplifying her guilt. Olisa laughed—a short, broken thing that echoed hollowly in the vast chamber–and tore himself away from her.
"You kissed him. You kissed him," he repeated, his voice breaking on the last word. "Why?"
Kainene felt her heart constrict at the pain in his voice. "I don't know! I don't... I don't know. We were having a moment and it just happened." She took a deep breath, steeling herself for honesty. "I'm not going to insult you by saying that it meant nothing, because it did."
"Oh?" Olisa turned back to her, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "And what did it mean?"
"I don't know—"
"Then what do you know, Kainene!" His voice rose, causing a flock of illusory birds to take flight from a nearby crop.
"I know it felt familiar!" she shouted back, her own emotions finally boiling over. "Do you know why? Because it felt like kissing you!"
They stood there, Kainene and Olisa, glaring at each other for a moment that lasted an eternity. Then Olisa blinked, the fight seeming to drain out of him as he faced away.
"I can't do this," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "I can't do this with you."
"Yes, you can. We can," Kainene insisted. She reached out, taking his hand and placing it on her chest, letting him feel the frantic beating of her heart. "I like Somadina. I like him a lot. I don't know if I love him yet, but being with him makes me happy."
"That's fairly obvious," Olisa replied, his eyes wet with unshed tears. "I can't believe I haven't noticed until now the way you look at him."
"Just like I have noticed the way you look at him," she said softly, fighting back her own tears. "We like him. I think that's clear by now. But it doesn't have to change anything between us. I still love you, Olisa. I have never stopped loving you. You were the best thing to happen to me in a very long time. I don't want to lose that. I can't lose that. But Somadina is different." She placed her palm on his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat beneath her fingers. "I know I'm not the only one that feels this way."
Olisa stared down at their intertwined arms for a long time. The silence stretched between them and Kainene felt her hope waver, wondering if she'd said the wrong thing and made it irreparably worse. But then Olisa sighed, a sound of resignation and acceptance, and pulled her into a fierce hug.
"Mother help me, I do," he whispered, burying his face in her neck. His breath was warm against her skin as he confessed, "I really, really like him."
Kainene laughed then, a sound of pure relief and hope and disbelief. She returned his hug just as tightly, feeling as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Around them, the sky seemed to brighten, the clouds parting to reveal a brilliant sun.
"So," she began a while later when they finally disengaged, her voice tentative but hopeful, "Does this mean—"
"We'll make him our third," Olisa finished for her. He touched his forehead to hers. "If he'll still have us after what happened."
Kainene groaned, suddenly remembering the complexity of their situation. "That's a headache I haven't considered."
But Olisa was chuckling, his body pliant against hers. For that moment in time, she allowed herself to relax, to let everything be right with the world.
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
"We'll cross that bridge when we get there," she said with a sigh. "First, we have to find him. We'll have to pass through a lot more rooms before the Tower lets us meet up with the others."
Olisa gave his assent with a nod, and they separated, each moving to a different pyramid to study its contents. The tension between them had dissipated, replaced by a renewed sense of purpose and unity. As they worked, the simulated environment around them seemed to respond to their improved mood – the sky brightened further, and a gentle, fragrant breeze rustled through the crops.
Kainene's chosen pyramid disgorged a small fortune's worth of manillas and gemstones, much to Olisa's delight. The coins clinked musically as they filled their packs, the gemstones catching the light and scattering rainbow hues across the golden stalks of wheat. Their packs were full to bursting in moments, the weight of their newfound wealth a comforting presence on their backs.
"If only we had a satchel of holding," Olisa lamented, his voice tinged with both excitement and frustration. "We could take so much more!"
Kainene listened patiently to his moans about their lack of magical storage, a fond smile playing on her lips. Despite the dangers they faced, moments like these – of simple, shared joy – made their journey worthwhile.
With their packs filled and a clearer understanding between them, they began to move on. They walked side by side through the sea of crops, occasionally brushing against each other in a way that felt both familiar and newly significant. As they progressed, a door slowly became visible in the distance, shimmering like a mirage on the horizon.
But then, almost simultaneously, they noticed something else. An obelisk, thinner than the pyramids but far taller, stood proudly amidst the golden waves of grain. Its surface was a deep, mesmerising black that seemed to absorb the light around it. As they drew closer, Kainene could see that the obelisk's surface crawled with Enchantment scripts, blazing with the rainbow light of universal anwansi to her Ordained sight.
"Olisa," she breathed, her voice filled with awe and disbelief. "Do you see what I see?"
He nodded, his eyes wide with wonder. "A Restoration Pillar. Here, in the same room as Restoration Pills. What are the odds?"
The obelisk seemed to demand all attention, its presence both alluring and slightly ominous. They moved to examine it more closely, their steps quickening with excitement and curiosity. The crops parted before them as if recognizing their purpose, creating a clear path to the mysterious structure.
As they approached, the scripts on the obelisk's surface began to glow more brightly, pulsing in a hypnotic rhythm. Kainene reached out a hand, her fingers trembling slightly as they neared the smooth, dark surface.
Which was why they didn't notice the trap on time.
The change was subtle at first – a soft whisper of sound, barely audible over the rustle of the crops. Then, with frightening suddenness, the ground beneath their feet began to shift and crumble. The pyramids of treasure vanished in an instant, as if they had never existed, leaving behind only empty air.
In their place, erupting from the earth with a deafening roar, came a thousand chains of majorsteel. They burst forth like deadly vines, their links gleaming with malevolent purpose. Each chain was tipped with a viciously sharp spear point, all of them intent on the two intruders who had dared to approach the obelisk.
Kainene was the first to react. In one fluid motion, she seized Olisa's arm and hurled him towards the door, away from the erupting chaos. The world around her dissolved into a cacophony of sound and motion – the thunderous roar of earth shifting, the razor-sharp whine of steel slicing through air, and the crystalline chime of hardened glass deflecting deadly blows.
Then, as abruptly as it had begun, it was over.
The silence that followed was deafening in its suddenness, broken only by the muffled sound of Olisa screaming her name from above. His voice, filled with panic and desperation, acted as an anchor, pulling Kainene back to consciousness. She fought through the fog in her mind, clawing her way back to awareness.
"I'm fine," she called back, immediately regretting the action as pain lanced through her skull. The words came out weaker than she intended, but Olisa's audible sigh of relief told her he'd heard.
Kainene took a moment to assess her situation. The acrid scent of disturbed earth filled her nostrils, and the air around her was thick with dust. She was underground, having fallen into the chasm that had opened when they triggered the trap. Her body was still encased in the glass armour of Clear Body, the Enforcement technique she'd instinctively summoned at the last second. It had saved her from the worst of the chains and falling debris, but not without cost.
With a thought, she let the armour dissipate, grateful for the release of pressure. But as she attempted to shift to a better position, a white-hot lance of agony shot through her leg. Kainene bit down hard on her lower lip, barely managing to stifle a scream. Carefully propping herself up on her elbows, she peered at the offending limb and let out a resigned sigh.
One of the chains had pierced her defences. Its spearhead was buried deep in her calf, the majorsteel glinting dully in the dim light. Blood oozed sluggishly from the wound, its colour unsettlingly dark. A creeping suspicion formed in her mind – had the chains been poisoned?
"Are you okay?" Olisa's voice echoed down again, tinged with worry.
Kainene looked up, squinting against the shaft of light from above. Olisa was little more than a speck, a smudge of darkness against the simulated blue sky. The distance between them was vast, far too great for either of them to safely traverse. Her flames, while potent, weren't nearly hot enough to serve as a propellant. Earth anwansi might allow her to push herself up, but the walls of the chasm looked frighteningly unstable. There was no guarantee she'd make it out before the entire thing collapsed in on her.
If only she were Mystic, she thought ruefully. She could simply fly out. But wishes wouldn't change her reality.
"I'm hurt," she replied, striving to keep her voice steady. "But I'm okay."
"I'll come down and get you," Olisa declared, his tone brooking no argument.
"No!" Kainene's response was sharp, fueled by fear for his safety. She softened her voice, "It's too dangerous. It's just a flesh wound. I'll heal quickly." Her eyes scanned her surroundings, landing on a patch of deeper darkness that seemed to lead further underground. "There's a tunnel here. I'll follow it and see if it leads out. If it does, I'll come up to you."
"And if it doesn't?" Olisa's voice was heavy with doubt.
"I'll come back here and wait. You should go and find the others. If you don't see me before then, it'll mean the tunnel didn't work out and I'm still here. So you'll know where to find me."
Olisa's silence spoke volumes about his displeasure with the plan. Kainene smiled, even though he couldn't see it. The familiar stubbornness in his hesitation was oddly comforting.
"I'll be fine," she promised, injecting as much confidence into her voice as she could muster. "We'll be needing the others' help anyway. Ije can make the jump. You can't."
Several more seconds of tense silence passed before Olisa finally relented. "Stay safe," he called down, his voice thick with emotion. "I'll be back soon."
Then he was gone, and Kainene allowed herself to slump against the rough wall of the chasm. The facade of strength crumbled, and she could no longer suppress the tremors wracking her body. Her pulse raced, and she could feel the beginnings of a fever setting in.
"Definitely poisoned," she whispered, eyeing the chain still embedded in her leg. Gritting her teeth, she wrapped her fingers around the cold metal and yanked it out in one swift motion. This time, she couldn't completely contain her reaction. A strangled moan escaped her lips as fresh waves of pain radiated from the wound. She took several quick, shallow breaths, fighting to regain control.
To her relief, the presence she'd sensed beyond the tunnel remained still and silent. She let out a shaky gasp, grateful for small mercies.
Black blood now flowed freely from the open wound, its colour a stark warning of the poison coursing through her system. Kainene forced herself to ignore it, focusing instead on steadying her breathing. She cast one last glance at the yawning mouth of the tunnel before closing her eyes.
With practised ease, she slipped into a meditative state, drawing in earth anwansi from her surroundings and directed the energy through her channels, fortifying her body against the invasion of the poison. As she sank deeper into the trance, time seemed to lose meaning. In this state of heightened awareness, Kainene could feel every beat of her heart, every surge of the poison, every small victory as her reinforced body fought back.
And so she remained, locked in an internal battle against the venom, silently praying that Olisa would return with help before it was too late. The darkness of the chasm pressed in around her, a constant reminder of the precarious nature of her situation. But Kainene held fast to hope, to the promise of reunion, to the warmth of Olisa's last words.
She would endure. She had to.
***
The Sage started shuffling back to his previous position after making his declaration, his weathered feet barely disturbing the ethereal mist that clung to the ground. Somadina hesitated for a moment, his eyes darting around the surreal dreamscape, before hurrying after the elder. The air shimmered with an otherworldly quality, and distant echoes of familiar yet alien sounds reverberated through the space.
"You told me to find you," Somadina began tentatively, his voice barely above a whisper. "Why?"
Omaliko's indigo eyes gleamed with an inner light as he turned to face his young charge. "You were dream walking, child. An innate ability I did not believe you would unlock until you had at least advanced to Ordained," he replied, his voice carrying the weight of centuries. "You saw certain things you were not ready for. A dangerous situation that could have ended very badly for your soul."
The Sage paused, allowing the gravity of his words to sink in. The dreamscape around them seemed to pulse in response to the tension. "Luckily, our Firstborn came to the same conclusion and wiped your memory. It also had the benefit of allowing me to contact you without running the risk of accidentally breaking your mind."
Somadina shuddered at the thought, his eyes widening with a mixture of fear and awe. He opened his mouth to speak, but Omaliko had already moved on, pausing at one of the numerous artefacts that dotted the misty landscape. With a wave of his gnarled hand, the Sage brought up a shimmering golden panel.
The panel's surface rippled like water before resolving into an image of a miniature, desert-like area. Somadina leaned in, fascinated by the detail. A small group of jarumi, their skin glistening with sweat and determination, were locked in combat with several swarms of beetle-wasps. Their weapons flashed with elemental light as they warded off the tenacious soul beasts, each movement a dance of survival.
Beyond the immediate battle, in the next room, Somadina could see two massive basilisk-scorpions. The monstrous creatures waited patiently by the door, their stingers poised and ready for any unfortunate soul who might come charging in. The young man felt a chill run down his spine at the sight.
Omaliko considered the scene for a moment, his face an impassive mask. Then, with another wave of his hand, the room with the soul beasts vanished. In its place appeared a scenic beach of pristine white sand and tall, swaying palm trees. The sudden shift from danger to tranquility was jarring.
"Are you the one that controls the Tower?" Somadina asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.
The Sage's lips quirked in what might have been a smile. "Not particularly. I manage a few places here and there on occasion, but the true masters are the idiok and, of course, the Tower itself, even if its sentience has been... loose of late."
Somadina's brow furrowed. "Is that why you called me here? To help with the Tower? What can I possibly do to change things?"
"You give yourself too little credit," replied the Sage softly, his voice carrying a hint of warmth. "And yes, it is indeed part of why I summoned you. But first, you must understand."
With a tap of his staff on the misty ground, two blobs of light bloomed into existence. They quickly resolved themselves into soft, indigo-hued chairs that seemed to glow from within. Omaliko sank into one with a grateful sigh, and Somadina followed suit, his eyes wide with wonder.
He made it look so easy, Somadina thought, remembering how difficult it had been to learn Mirror Master. So this is what a true dream dibia can do.
The young man's awe was tempered, however, by the concern clouding Omaliko's eyes. As the Sage began to speak, Somadina leaned in, eager to hear every word.
"Most people, when they think of the Towers, see them as merely another set of ruins or dungeons," Omaliko began, his voice taking on a rhythmic cadence. "Places of power and mystery that often reward those brave enough to risk their dangerous depths. Naturally, they are aware of the Towers' sentience and desire for knowledge, but it is widely seen as a quirk at best. An ingenious Enchantment left by the Firstborn to ensure their coffers never ran dry."
The dreamscape around them seemed to dim, focusing attention on the Sage's words. "But the wisest among us have always thought differently. The Towers of Citadel aren't like Amosis, a ruined city left by long-dead gods, or An Siji, an island made desolate by fortune seekers that delved too deep into a rift, broke through to the spirit world, and unleashed horrors upon themselves."
Somadina nodded, familiar with these cautionary tales. The Sage continued, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. "The Towers were made in a time when the Firstborn and the other greater and lesser spirits called this plane home. They don't do things without a good reason, and humans looking for treasure most certainly don't count."
"Why then?" asked Somadina, leaning forward in his chair. "Why were the Towers built?"
"To anchor this world," came the reply, heavy with the weight of ancient knowledge. "To keep it and not just the spirit realm, but the other worlds separate and in balance."
Somadina blinked, opened his mouth, and shut it again. "Other worlds," he repeated, his voice a mix of disbelief and awe.
"I see doubt on your face," the Sage remarked idly, his indigo eyes piercing into Somadina, seeming to cut open his heart and lay it bare. "But that is to be expected. You do not yet understand." He leaned back into his chair, the indigo glow pulsing gently. "This world, this universe, was among the earliest made. But not the first. That honor belongs to Obi Mbu, home to the Chineke, the Father and Komosu, the Mother and His sister-wife."
Somadina made a face. "His sister?"
"The Architects do not operate under the same rules as us, their creations," Omaliko said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "We call them the Mother and Father and think of them as male and female when in actuality they are neither, but embodiments of the masculine and feminine natures of the multiverse. The natures that exist in us as well. Why would they be either? They, who existed before there was ever a need for such distinctions." He waved a hand dismissively. "But I digress. I did not call you here to ponder the metaphysical natures of our creators."
Somadina gave a hesitant nod, not sure he had entirely understood what the Sage had been trying to say. "You were talking about the first universe."
"Yes. But truly our attention must lie with the second, for that's where our story begins. Citadel, our world, was a mere infant when Vestige blossomed. It was the home of the Ris, the first gods and the first to rule over a facet of creation. Then they devolved into civil war and left their universe a barren, broken thing. Distraught, the Father abandoned Vestige and retired to the first to work on a new and better one. But the creation of a universe is a dangerous thing and one day, an accident happened and Komosu died."
Somadina nodded again. Aside from the bit about Vestige and the Ris, it was a story he had heard before. The dreamscape around them shifted, showing fleeting images of cosmic battles and the birth of worlds.
"Her death, however, was not in vain," Omaliko continued, his voice taking on a reverent tone. "Her essence mingled with the half-formed potential the Father had made and gave birth to the multiverse and its many wonders. In time, greater shards of Her being would collect and change, forming the Arushi and the other Elders."
"Okay," Somadina said slowly, trying to process the cosmic scale of what he was hearing. "But what does this have to do with me?"
"Patience, Somadina," the Sage chided gently. "What I am about to tell you took me years of study to learn and uncover. It started with a dream, a dream the Taleweaver had not meant to give me upon my ascension to Ordained."
"What did you see?" Somadina asked, leaning forward, his heart racing with anticipation.
"The Other," Omaliko replied, his face grim. The dreamscape darkened, as if responding to the weight of his words. "There has never been just two Architects. You have heard of Chineke, the Father and Komosu, the Mother. But before them, there was another. She who came before there was a before. Ora. The End of All Things."
A chill seemed to descend on the world at the mention of that name, and Somadina scratched at the goosebumps that had broken out over his skin. The mist around them grew thicker, more oppressive. "Who is She?"
"It is hard to say," Omaliko replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "Tales about Her are sketchy and hard to find. Even when they are found, they are rarely in agreement. Some claim that the End is the mother of the other two. Others their sister. Yet in one thing do they all come to the same conclusion. Ora hates all of creation."
Somadina was still scratching at his arms, the chill seeming to seep into his very bones. "Why?"
"She is the void, the emptiness that was all there was before the Mother and the Father came and changed it. Now she wishes for things to return to what it once was. Silent nothingness."
The young man's mind reeled with the implications. He thought of the Towers, of their mysterious origins and purposes. A sudden realisation struck him. "The Thrones. They know, don't they?"
"Parts of it. But yes, most of the Monarchs are aware," Omaliko said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate with the very stone around them. "Moremi, the current Timelord Paragon, made certain to inform them. The ones that don't know are those who don't care." He paused, his eyes growing distant. "It is why they sent Oseloka Oma to retrieve the Tower's Heart."
Somadina frowned, his mind racing to keep up with the implications. "The Tower's Heart? But why?"
Omaliko's gaze sharpened, focusing intently on the young Disciple. "When they decipher its workings, they will make copies. Each will use theirs to stave off the attacks in their domains. More importantly, it's believed to hold the key to ascending the ranks without the need for long, arduous cultivation—a suspicion only recently confirmed."
"Attacks?" Somadina's frown deepened, his fingers unconsciously tracing the intricate patterns on his betrothal necklace. "Do you mean the increased Aberration presence?"
"Yes," the Sage nodded gravely. "This Tower's failure is merely a sign of a greater ailment. The End, you see, has been warring against creation for a very long time."
Omaliko's voice took on a rhythmic cadence, as if reciting an ancient tale. "It started with the Ris, sixty thousand years ago, when Her dark whisperings drove them mad and caused them to destroy one another. Now it continues with her children's attacks on the worlds."
The cave seemed to grow colder as Omaliko continued, his words painting a grim picture of the future. "Once the Tower is gone, one of our major defences will vanish with it, and Citadel will be laid bare to interferences and breaches from other universes. The rifts will get worse, Somadina, and Aberration types that haven't been seen for millennia will walk the earth once more."
Somadina felt a chill run down his spine, remembering the terrifying battle he had witnessed. "The Firstborn... they're fighting against this?"
Omaliko nodded, his expression grave. "The Firstborn are nearly being overwhelmed in their fight against the World Eaters, creatures whose terrible presence can unmake creation itself. What you saw was one such battle. The Firstborn are currently victorious, but it is not a war they can win for long."
The young Disciple swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. "But... what can we do?"
At this, Omaliko's expression darkened even further, the lines on his face deepening like canyons carved by millennia of worry. "We were supposed to send reinforcements. It's the entire reason why this world was granted the gift of cultivation. We were meant to rise and become powerful enough to aid them in their fight."
His voice took on a bitter edge. "But have the Thrones and Paragons and Sovereigns done so? No. They sit and conquer and rule while the End pushes ever closer. Even the soul beasts and earthborn that should know better have all refused to Ascend."
He sighed, the sound echoing off the cave walls like a mournful wind. "Worse still is their monopoly on knowledge. Their refusal to Ascend is bad enough, but to prevent others from reaching the same rank is mad."
Omaliko turned to Somadina, his eyes blazing with an intensity that made the young man want to shrink back. "Which is why you must break that monopoly and become a Throne."
Somadina stared, unsure if he'd heard properly. "But... isn't reaching Throne really difficult?"
"It is," Omaliko agreed, his tone softening slightly. "It takes decades, centuries of unimaginable training and discipline to reach that rank, using the normal routes. But if Citadel and the multiverse at large is to have any hope of weathering the coming storm, you must do it in six years."
Six years. Somadina sank deeper into his chair, crushed by the Sage's expectant eyes. The enormity of the task before him seemed insurmountable. "I'm not sure I can do it. The Monarchs... Surely some of them aren't all bad."
Omaliko nodded, pain evident in his eyes. "There were a few. My mate, the former Timelord Paragon, was one of them. Her visions were what set me on my path after the confusion that arose when I advanced to Sage. When she Ascended, I felt lost and tried to give myself a new affinity."
"Stellar anwansi.".
"Indeed," Omaliko confirmed. "After much experimentation, I was successful. Barely. But there was a price. My bond with the Taleweaver was crippled. I was forever locked to Sage, unable to advance any further."
His fingers traced the heavy chains that hung from his body, the metal links clinking softly. "The knowledge drove me mad for a time, and I took to wearing these chains, a deluded attempt at atonement. I fear this was part of the reason for my clan's downfall. Without me, they were unable to fight back when the Twins Radiant advanced, killed the previous Citrine Throne, and removed us as Vassals."
Omaliko took a deep breath, his gaze distant as if looking into the past. "But that's not relevant right. What you need to know was that, now that I had my mate's affinity, I tried to continue as she had done. But where her future sight had always been murky at times, mine was downright confusing. Still, it was clear enough, my words strong enough, to win over the Chinyelugo Patriarch."
"The Stranger Unseen," Somadina whispered, recalling tales he had heard from Kainene and Olisa. "The Throne that died."
"Yes," Omaliko said, that single word managing to contain years of repressed grief. "He was brash and prone to bouts of childish playfulness, but he was eager. And with him came Chinyelugo Azuka, his mate and his Apostle. With the two of them and my smoky, but sometimes clear visions, it seemed the loss of my mate had been mitigated."
"Then they died," Somadina said softly, hesitating before asking, "Do you know how—"
"No," Omaliko cut him off, pain flashing across his features. "I was away in Karfi when it happened. The news... it broke me. I had not only lost what seemed like the last hope but also people I had been proud to call my best friends. I would have given up right then and there if I hadn't received a vision. A vision of you."
"Me?" Somadina's voice was barely above a whisper, startled by the revelation.
Omaliko nodded, his eyes focusing intently on the young Disciple. "I had looked before, searching for another path to victory in case we failed, but had never succeeded. Until then. Never had a vision of mine been so clear. I knew immediately that I needed to prepare."
Understanding dawned on Somadina's face. "The cave," he said in sudden realisation. "Everything here—"
"Is yours," Omaliko confirmed. "When I initially made it for myself, it was as a retreat for when I got tired of the world. But I think this is a much better alternative. When you become an Authority, remember that place. It will help you greatly."
But Somadina was shaking his head, swaying under the weight of the destiny that had suddenly been dumped onto him. "I'm sorry. But I can't. I can't do it. I'm just me. A clanless orphan boy with no future. No one in their right mind should put their hopes on me."
Omaliko's voice was gentle but firm. "Ah. But you can. I have seen it. And you won't be alone. The other universes have their own heroes, champions that will stand beside you when the time comes. And you have your friends as well."
The Sage's smile was tinged with sadness and hope in equal measure. "I speak not just as a Sage, Somadina Nwora, but as the Prophet-in-Chains. All that I've told you is the truth. It is your destiny to save the world."
Somadina stared, speechless for a long time, trying to come to terms with all this. The cave seemed to press in around him, the yoke of expectation as heavy as the stone above. Eventually, he sighed and said, "I don't know if I'm the right person for any of this. I killed my mother, after all. But I'll try."
"Selfless sacrifice isn't something that should be tarnished by blaming it on others," Omaliko said gently. "Think for a moment. If it had been you in that position, the roles reversed, would you have hesitated to do the same? And, it is not like your mother ever left you. A part of her has been with you all this time."
He waved his hand, and suddenly, Rai swooped down from the shadows, alighting on the arm of Somadina's chair. The young Disciple made a sound, somewhere between a gasp and a strangled scream.
"Rai?"
Omaliko's voice was soft, filled with a mixture of wonder and old regret. "I had an owlcat once when I was young. He never bonded fully with me because, I'll admit, I wasn't a very good person back then, and eventually he got fed up and left. That spurred my research into soul beasts. It has always fascinated me how they are born. This fusion of animal and spirit."
Rai was purring, staring right at Somadina, but the young man was frozen, unable to do anything but stare back.
"Mother?" he managed weakly, and the owlcat flared her wings in response.
"A small piece of her, yes," Omaliko confirmed. "Not entirely the woman that birthed you, but enough of her soul, I think. Enough of the parts that cared for and loved you deeply." He ran his hands across Rai's back and let out a small smile when she coiled up and sprang into Somadina's startled arms. "She has not bonded completely with you for fear of killing you. Rare is the person that can tolerate the full weight of a Sage's soul, after all."
This was yet another shocking discovery, but Somadina could care little about that in the face of all the other revelations being flung at him from all directions. Instead, he cradled the owlcat and buried his face in her fur, hiding the tears from Omaliko. Rai, fortunately, did not seem to mind and curled her tail around him, letting her purring calm and relax him.
Then Somadina raised his head and rose, his heart filled with a newfound determination. "Thank you," he said to both of them, his voice thick with emotion. "I won't let you down."
"I know you won't," Omaliko replied, inclining his head with respect.
Before Somadina could respond, a deep rumble drowned out all other sounds. The earth shook violently, as though determined to throw them to the ground. Dust and small pebbles rained down from the cave ceiling. The tremor passed a moment later, but the Sage was on his feet, his long beard sweeping the ground as he called out urgent instructions.
"Keep my Testament close. When the time is right, you will find the chapter you need. And trust the pale one. Your destiny and his are intertwined."
Jidenna? Somadina wondered, but Omaliko gave him no time to think. He was hurried back to the entrance, the urgency in the Sage's movements palpable. Once they were there, Omaliko tapped his staff on the betrothal necklace and thrust it into Somadina's hands.
"I've attuned it to you and your pendant. Now you will be able to summon it at will," he said, watching as the staff shrank until it was half as tall as Somadina, then turned into swirling light and disappeared into the now indigo gemstone on the necklace.
As the staff vanished, the chains around Omaliko began to glow with an eerie light. They detached from the Sage's body, floating in the air for a moment before surging towards Somadina. The young Disciple flinched, but the chains merely wrapped around him briefly before disappearing, seeming to sink into his very being.
Omaliko's voice was urgent as he continued, "I’m also giving you Binding Vows, my foci. And I must ask you not to attempt to use any of them until you are ready. They are Sage's weapons and still filled with my anwansi. The backlash could be catastrophic."
"I understand. Thank you," said Somadina, bowing deeply, his mind reeling from the transfer of the staff and chains. "But what about you?"
Omaliko's eyes were sad but resolute. "My time is over, Somadina. I am tired. Architects know I have lingered long enough as it is. I must go now to join my mate and my friends." He placed a hand on Somadina's shoulders, the touch conveying a lifetime of hope and burden. "May the Father smile upon you."
Somadina hesitated for only a moment before squeezing the hand, careful not to grasp it too hard. Then he turned and disappeared into the mouth of the cave. He kept his back straight as he hurried and did not turn around, even when he heard the sigh, like wind escaping a house, and the dull thud of a body hitting the ground.
"Goodbye, Omaliko Dike," he murmured as he left the cave and plunged into the forest. The ground rumbled again, more violently this time, and he increased his pace, racing to find his friends in time.
As Somadina ran, the forest around him seemed to blur, the trees and undergrowth melding into a tapestry of green and brown. The enormity of what he had just learned pressed down on him, each step carrying him further from the cave and closer to a destiny he never could have imagined. The betrothal necklace bounced against his chest, the indigo gem now pulsing with a faint, starlike light—a beacon of hope in the gathering darkness.
As he raced towards his friends and the challenges that awaited, Somadina Nwora, once an orphan, now a chosen one, steeled himself for the journey ahead.