Upon seeing it for the first time, Alis recalled the imposing monolithic tower which dominated the entire city of Rynstowe, the feared Tower of Trials. It was strange that despite its imposing presence, which overshadowed the entire city square and its brightly coloured houses, she had not seen it from afar.

Despite hearing various hushed stories which dealt with the Tower of Trials, she really did not know much about the Tower. Thinking upon it, none of the stories seemed to make sense. Even though almost every tale dealing with Rynstowe talked about the Tower, few stories dealt about the tower. And none of them talked about what happened within the tower. Either they talked about what happened before entering or after exiting the tower.

It surprised her to see the joyful look on Klarric’s face when he knelt on the strange black footpath, touching it with his fingers. Without hesitation, he pushed past the hulking figure of the Knight Champion and rushed along the black path into the dangers of the Tower of Trials.

Without thinking, she ran after him, not wanting him to be alone in the strange tower.

When she reached him, there was no time to take in the strange appearance of the ground floor of the tower. Her attention was fully upon what that wretched love stealer was saying: ‘Little did I know that it would be Aggard herself who would welcome you herself. So, please, Fallen Paladin, would you join with me.’

It didn’t matter to Alis who she was up against, Klarric was hers. In this matter, it was more foolhardy than bravery. However, Alis was angry with that wretch trying to steal her Klarric: ‘he’s mine, entrusted to me by Aggard herself!’

A rich presence filled the entrance of the tower, a presence that flowed from Aggard. Klarric muttered something. Then the presence changed. There was danger and anger and pain in it. For once Alis realised what Klarric had meant on the one occasion when he talked about his first encounter with Aggard.

As much as she wanted to remain with Klarric, Alis was unable to.

The emotional pain which flowed through the presence was too much.

She awoke, laying on a comfortable soft bed. A strange bed as there were fibres sticking up out of it, tenderly stabbing her cheek. It was strange to see Klarric walk over to her on the top of the bed. He knelt down next to her and helped sit her up.

From her new vantage point, Alis saw that the bed she had been sleeping on was not a bed but the strange crimson and black flooring of the ground floor of the Tower of Trials.

Klarric held her tight against him, and she relaxed into his presence.

‘Klarric…’ Alis started without knowing what she was going to say. As no ideas came to her, she gave up and let things lapse into silence.

Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!

‘Alis,’ Klarric said in the silence, ‘I have feelings for you, but what you see here within the tower, and what I see are two different things.’

‘What do you see?’ Alis asked, hoping to get closer to him.

He shook his head, ‘no, first, tell me what you see.’

She looked around at the smooth walls painted a pale colour. The flooring was something soft and comfortable, and hard to keep clean from dirty boots trampling though. Especially in the autumn and winter seasons. That strange covering also carried on up the stairs. A white slab mana tool, somehow fixed to the wall, heated the air, making this place uncomfortably warm. Then there were the mana tools which emitted lights, hanging on thin strands from the celling.

There was too much reliance on mana, mana tools, and comfort to make her feel at ease. She was sure that further within the tower, even greater horrors would emerge. Even resting in this place, next to Klarric’s comforting presence, she felt drawn to flee through that strange white door.

‘This place is creepy and relies too much on mana operation for most to keep operational.’

‘I have died once, and so has this body.’ Klarric said. His tone was somewhat emotionless for such a disturbing bit of news. Alis looked over at his strong, tanned face but he was looking at one of the plain walls. ‘Before I died I lived in a world where rooms were decorated much like this. A world where there was no such thing as magic. A world where though religion was alive, it seemed as if the gods were dead.

‘Not that I was a follower of any religions.’

There was a sadness in his tone, a longing for something which was forever lost. Though what he said was unbelievable, there was no doubting in Alis’ heart that he was telling her the truth.

‘After I had died, I awoke in a dying body.’ He rubbed his chest where the scars which he kept hidden as much as he could were. ‘When I awoke in this body, Aggard was there to welcome me.’

He lapsed into silence and Alis started to realise not only the rabidity but also the depth of his devotion towards Aggard. He had a deeper faith than maybe anyone she knew, even herself. Though her faith focused upon Klarric himself and how he saved her.

Yet despite that, she really believed he was not from this world, as strange as it seemed. Maybe he had come from the realm of the gods and this is what their world was like.

‘Aggard, when I— No, now is not the time for that. Aggard has given me an idea as for what she wants from me.’

‘What is that, My Klarric?’ Alis said, snuggling closer to him. Showing him the best she could that she was his.

‘She wanted me to save the elves,’ he shook his head, ‘the Anthal. For Aggard is the patron of the Anthal race.’

From the way Klarric refused to look at her, and kept glancing over at the fallen First Watcher, she knew there was something else he wasn’t telling her.

‘Maybe we need to part for a while,’ Klarric said. His voice tinged with sadness.