There were signs:

Chapters leading us astray,

Secrets he should not have kept,

Too late I realized what they all meant.

By then, though, the Seed had grown.

And the boy I loved was forced,

To shoulder the burdens of man.

~~Ramblings of the Fourth Poet

----------------------------------------

“Second-years, lead the way,” Rote shouted once they’d all stepped inside. “The feast awaits!” A cheer from the hungry class greeted his call.

Callam, seeing an opportunity to sneak away, mouthed to Lenora, “I’ll be right back.”

“Dying to read that chapter, tomebound?” She wore a knowing smile, all of her earlier pensiveness gone. It seemed she too had decided to learn of the Tower’s secrets another day.

“Something along those lines. How can I find yo—”

“I’ll ask Moose to stand up. Should be easy enough to spot.”

“Thanks.” He was glad for the plan; while he wasn’t one to overthink, he had worried about making his new friends wait. It was hardly a rational fear, but what if they decided they preferred to talk to someone else?

“Don’t take too long, mind you,” Lenora said, her blue eyes sparkling mischievously. “Moose isn’t the type to wait forever.”

Callm froze. For a heart-skipping second, he was convinced she could read minds.

“He’s bound to drag me off for a game of Seeker’s Talent, now that I can play.” Leaning over, she whispered, “Don’t tell, but he always taps his fingers when he’s got a good hand. I’ll fleece him.”

Oh. Girls.

Siela had always known his tells too. Years spent masking his emotions, and she'd still been able to see right through him until the day she passed. He’d given up playing cards with her long before that—but not before owing her about a year's worth of gambled chores.

It still left him feeling bare. He’d have to work harder to hide his emotions in the future.

Letting Lenora and the rest of his class pass, Callam made for one of the many doorways that led into the main hallway. Too loud he thought as he visited the first room—it was packed with older students lounging about. Four of them were seated around a board of some kind, laying down magical pieces that stacked together to form a growing cityscape. Another three bickered in a corner, their shoulders stiff and body language tense.

The second room he similarly discarded. He ducked out of it almost at once—it appeared to be a reading area of some sort, repurposed into a kitchen for the meal. Knives and silverware flew through the air, chopping up exotic vegetables and meats. Tables laden with steaming dishes indented the expensive carpets. A roast pig had been shoved into a narrow fireplace, its fat and juices sizzling the flame underneath, and not one but two massive pots simmered over hot rocks someone had placed directly on the ground. Callam could see rings where stones had charred the floor.

When the third room also failed to yield a quiet spot, he decided he’d waited long enough. Cold stone pressed against his shirt as he slid to the floor in a shadowed corner of the hallway. After crossing his legs, he pulled his grimoire from his bag and laid it on his lap.

Foreword: For Callam Quill, bonded companion.

Callam Quill, Mage, Level 1.

Grimoire Type: Unknown.

Starlevel: Four.

Skills: Literacy.

Talents: Streetwise. Puzzles come easily to you.

Spells: Infer Intus, Ater, Infer Intus (Recharging)

Prologue: Your first spell

A burst of warmth pulsed from the grimoire and Callam skimmed the rest, eager to get to his first chapter. Mind racing with possibilities, he turned the page.

Chapter One: The Journey of Hidden Intent

All beasts share two hearts,

One of light, one of dark.

The first they bare for all to see,

The second they fill with private dreams,

Man’s great feat is his literacy

Yet not all books are an easy read,

Callam Quill of Chapelhill,

Find and open Solem’s Door,

To learn the sister-spell hidden on this floor,

And level the power within your heart once more.

Description: Through close observation of the Prariebeast’s actions, you have unlocked your first path.

Nothing hunts without reason. Nothing lives without cause.

Incantation: NA

Timeline: One semester.

Partem: This chapter can be shared with other readers.

Footnote: this is a three-part quest.

Sister-spell…?

He could only guess what the term meant, but assumed it would unlock magic similar yet contrary to his first spell. Healing, maybe? His finger trailed the paper. “Through close observation…” he muttered. It appeared he’d been rewarded for questioning the beast’s motivations.

More than that, it seemed Rote had correctly deduced that his chapter was different from the rest of his classmates. How? Callam had no idea, but it didn’t really matter—chapters were directives, driving Seekers to accomplish feats throughout the tower. That much was for certain. The first few ones were also notoriously easy to complete.

At least, they were supposed to be. His own chapter… well, it was as the Sisters said: “Fools circle a straight path.” It looked like loads of work for little reward.

He sighed, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Convoluted or not, difficult to solve or not, he was a true Seeker now. A mage searching for the next step in his journey.

That alone made this riddle worth solving.

Returning to the text, he worked to commit it all to memory—not just the words, but the feeling of heading in the right direction. It was comforting. Steady. An anchor in the storm of mysteries he’d yet to solve.

When the moment had passed, he stood up, put away his grimoire, and made for the main commissary.

Best I ask Moose about Solom’s Door, he decided as he skirted around two older students flirting against a pillar. As a second-year, the massive boy was likely to know answers about the Tower's first floor and be smart enough to keep Callam’s questions to himself.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Though he’s likely to pry, and will expect answers in return.

That was okay. At some point Callam would need to let his new friends in on his secrets. Until then, he could act ignorant or lie.

“Ho! Tomebound!” He looked up just in time to throw himself against the hallway’s wall. Two lantern-kites—one the spitting image of a tower dragon, the other a crimson phoenix—spun rapidly in his direction, circling in a fury of sparks. With a hiss, they clashed, paper wings crumpling and bursting alight.

“Three rymers the bird rises ag—” one girl wearing red robes and a matching scarf shouted, only to be cut off by a chorus of “It is written,” and “Double!”

Callam blinked—not at the explosion that nearly missed him when the dragon lantern puffed to twice its size then burned away, but at the amount of money being gambled. Seekers truly lived a life far outside his means.

“Another round?” the girl teased, her hand held out to collect payment from those crowding the dining hall’s entrance—all first years, by the look of their youthful faces.

She was greeted with groans. A few pained expressions too. Callam smiled. It seemed he wasn’t the only one short on coin, and he got the distinct feeling the group had just been played. Squeezing by the onlookers, he took in the massive room.

More than sixty long benches were pressed together inside the commissary, each stacked heavy with platters and plates, and filled to the brim with eating students. His stomach growled at the sight of pauper’s pudding, fried meat, oat bread, and a dozen more dishes he couldn’t recognize but hoped to taste. Teachers peppered the room, sitting in groups of two or three in enclaves cut into the castle’s walls. Stained-glass windows set high up along those walls reflected the candle light. Conversations—both whispered and shouted—echoed.

It was rather overwhelming. And exciting.

“Callam, this way!” Spinning, he saw Lenora waving, a silver glass in her hand. Moose sat by her side, dwarfing everyone else as usual. A string of candles floated overhead, casting ring-like shadows on their bench.

“Bout time,” the giant grumbled when Callam approached. He chewed a mouthful of chicken, having stripped the meat from the bone. “Nora had me looking the fool, standing up for twenty minutes.”

“It was not that long.” Scooching over to allow Callam to sit on her right, she asked, “So? Tell us about your new chapter!”

Callam hesitated for a moment—but he needed Moose’s help anyway, and his grimoire had said his quest was sharable. Mind made up, he slipped his bag off his shoulders and positioned it between his feet. “Can I get a plate first?”

“Eat!” Lenora giggled, her voice louder than she’d likely intended. She took another sip of whatever drink her hands held. “Eat and talk. Moose always does. Don’t think he’s ever shut his mouth.”

“Th’ meat’s exsh’llent,” the second-year mumbled, as if to prove the point. After swallowing, he eyed the gray mash lingering in Lenora's bowl. “Avoid the pelish porridge–too much salt. Only freemen stomach that.” A second later, he added, “and low-bred orphans,” when Callam reached for the spoon.

Callam ate in silence for a while, letting the comment linger. Only once Moose had begun to look deeply uncomfortable did he say, “Would have killed for some of that, growing up.”

“Porridge?” To the giant’s credit, he tried hard not to make a face.

“No, bread.”

“Well—I…”

Lenora burst out laughing. Hearing her broke Callam’s composure, and his face cracked into a grin. After years of holding his tongue around Scriptors, the Sisters, and the Sootskins, it felt good to joke freely—even if the giant was a bit crass with his teasing.

“So,” he said, reaching past a pitcher brimming with juice to grab a meatpie. “what do you know of Solem’s Door?”

Moose bit into a pear, his ears still red. “Door? I know of Solem. Imagine you will too, by week's end. About the only floor keeper we’re not to kill. Enjoys puzzles.”

That rung a bell. “Is he a sphinx?”

“Well. They call him that, ya. Doesn’t look like any sphinx I’ve heard of, thou—”

Ding.

The clear sound of metal hitting glass was unmistakable, demanding silence. Before Callam could even peer over his shoulder, a proud, deep voice echoed throughout the commissary: “Seekers of the Tower, what is written.”

On cue, the older students spoke up: “Is foretold and forbidden.”

“That it was, until you found your way here,” the speaker said. Callam finally located him, not at the end of the tables as he’d expected, but on a balcony looking down upon the hall. Up there, the man was an island—solitary, regal, dressed in black robes and flowing white shawls. Yet his shoulders appeared pinched and his expression tired. “This Lighthouse is a beacon for many things: knowledge, magic, even mystery. But more than anything, it is the rightful home for the powerful. Look around you—observe your fellow Fated. Watch them drink and feast. Remember, these are the rewards He gives his warriors. To the Prophet, we are brothers in arms.”

Heads up and down the benches nodded along to his speech. Callam, for his part, focused on chewing his food. This type of rhetoric had always made him uncomfortable, and hearing the Elders spew it during Binding Day hadn’t helped.

By the ardent looks of everyone around him, it was clear only he held such reservations.

A fervor grew as the Scriptor began to pace, his voice more animated with each step. “Of late we have become a scattered continent. Rebels seize our cities to the west, and monsters threaten our shores. We do not let the Ruddites know—their minds cannot handle such truths. But as Seekers, you must understand. We are here to learn. To climb. Yet more than anything, we exist to protect.” The man paused, and where he’d just been loud, now he was quiet. “The Tower leads the way. Master its magic. Together, we shall light its flame.”

Claps broke out, building slowly into a roar of approval. Two teens to Callam’s right seemed particularly enthused, lifting goblets up with shouts of “For the Prophet.” Across the table, Moose joined in, spearing a tomato with his fork and holding it up for all to see.

Rote’s melodic cheers rose above the rest. “An inspiration as always, Headmaster Vale!”

Callam’s eyes found Lenora. There was no doubt the threat to the Lighthouse was real, but he still hoped for some sense of solidarity—some hint that he was not alone in his reservations.

A smile graced her lips.

Had that been her only expression, he might have felt alone. Yet her gaze told a deeper story. There was a hint of unease there. Worry. Thoughtfulness and apprehension too.

“Students,” Rote called out once the applause had settled. Hearing footsteps, Callam turned to watch the teacher walk to the center of the hall. “Before we let you get back to your feast, we’ve some administrative matters of note. Indoor classes shall commence at nine o’ clock tomorrow and will follow an on-off schedule—one day in the classroom, the next outside, traversing the floor like we did today. You can expect your tailored schedules in the morning, based on your star-level. Weekends and Fridays are your own. And, as a reminder, first years are not to climb without a proctor.”

Having said his piece, the mage tossed a coin in the air. “Heads,” his amplified voice boomed, “and we bring out dessert. Tails, I recite the Sermon’s book in song.” A second later, he caught the copper and slapped it down on his wrist. “Lucky you.”

~~~

Two slices of honey cake later and Callam still wasn’t sure how he felt about the southern delicacy. Rarely had he tasted something so sweet. The tangy sauce had helped, but not enough to truly contrast the flavor.

Still… he reached for a third. He’d gone hungry too often to pass up an expensive treat.

“Solem’s not one to share guidance easily,” Moose said, leaning against the wall behind his back. His plate was picked clean, and he’d finished an entire berry pie by himself. “Tilla had dealings with him last year. Ran the clock out on her chapter searching for something worth trading, only to be rejected and fail.”

“Something worth trading?” Lenora took the words from Callam’s mouth. She was leaning over, hands rifling through her bookbag on the ground, her long, chestnut hair draped her face.

“ ‘Knowledge given freely is knowledge stolen.’ Or something like that. He’s sure to demand a secret in return for his help.”

“You reckon I’ll need it to find the door?” Callam asked.

“Certain as the Prophet’s light. Solem’s not like the keepers on higher floors. Much more powerful and loves his riddles. If he’s hidden something, I doubt you’ll find it on your own.”

Callam wasn’t so sure about that, but stayed quiet. While he’d opened up about his quest, he’d kept both its ability to be shared and his Streetwise talent private.

“The only real mystery is how this pertains to your gift of languages.” Looking up from her book, she playfully arched an eyebrow.

His stomach dropped. “Right,” he said, then took a sip of water to buy some time. The liquid chilled his tongue. “Perhaps it’s—”

“No need to lie,” she interrupted, then her eyes widened slightly. “Sorry! I mean… I didn’t mean to pry. We all have secrets.”

“Says you.” Moose stood, somehow pushing the whole bench forward as he did. “I’m an open book.”

Even as color tinged her cheeks, Lenora rolled her eyes. “That’d be a first among nobles.”

“And a top cardsharp too,” the giant boy added, pulling a deck from his pocket. To Callam, he asked, “Fancy a game of Seeker’s talent? We second-years host a game in the dormitories. Will be Nora’s first time as well.”

Notes: hi everyone! Tried a longer chapter here, let me know how it reads to you all <3 Thanks. Please read the post chapter notes as well.