20. All About Perspective
Initiate sequence: Théo’s peaceful walking montage.
The sun is bright in the sky above a sea of green as we make our way to the portal to Floor 2. Oh no! A river! I try laying my jacket down to help my companions cross without getting wet, but it sinks. We laugh at my blunder. I walk waist-deep into the river, then hold onto Milos and Josh as they cross, careful to not let them fall. Milos moves my wet brown hair out of my eyes as he passes. A slime races towards Milos. He falls backwards, losing his grip on his shield, but my shield punches it out of the air just in time. I laugh and scratch the back of my head when I notice he’s landed in a puddle of mud. I’m a little too zealous helping him up, so we almost bump into each other. We move on quickly. Milos trips and I catch him before he dies a painful death within Slimey. We make eye contact for a little too long. We notice we’re holding hands. We both blush and look away. And, yet… He still hasn’t let go.
Shit, wrong folder. Ignore that last paragraph.
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A Lost journal
His name was Joseph. He and I were rivals as kids, you know. From the moment he moved next door from God-knows-where, we were at odds. We fought over the same girl for years. We would prank each other and try to one-up each other to impress her. I was sure that I’d marry her, but it didn’t work out. One day, he simply won. I had been outmaneuvered. He gouged out his own eye, got to one knee and said “Irene, they say an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind, but I’m lost without you. Will you accept this trade? An eye for an I? Will you be mine?”
How could I top that? It was poetry in liquid form, distilled over millennia. Every day, when she looked at him, the cotton swab in his eye reminded her of his love. I almost regretted our friendship. Our rivalry. It was tough seeing them together. She was my soulmate, I really believe it. No other woman has ever caught my eye. I don’t know where he came from, and I don’t know where his soul fled after he threw himself between me and that gun, but I can’t help but think that if… If it hadn’t been for him, I’d have been married a long time ago. Alas, I can’t blame him, nor hold it against him now that he’s gone. All I can do is uphold my end of the promise we made. I just hope this is all worth it, in the end.
* The last entry in the diary of a man known only as Sulky.
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Tinker Tanner
Inside the Church of the Tower’s compound, Tanner sat in a meeting room, trying to look convinced and interested.
“The last payment to the Wings of Ascension has been sent with Bishop Cruz,” the Archbishop said. “The thieves will have no chance of stealing this shipment, not with a powerful Awakened aboard. Soon, it will be the The Summer Equinox Festival of Lights in the New Year, the time of year when the veil between the Towers in parallel dimensions is the thinnest. With this last payment, we have secured our future. A future in which we, the grassroots members of Church of the Tower, shall live on. A future in which we shall spread the Word to another Tower, one that has not been weakened with filth and Sin. A Tower that hasn’t angered the Gods, that still basks in Their Light.”
Tanner tuned out his father’s preaching (because, of course it’s his dad that’s in charge). It sounded great. Fantastic, really. Ditch this Tower for another, one where he could climb farther than anyone else ever had. He was named after one of the greatest Tower climbers to ever exist, after all. There was a single, tiny, miniscule problem, though: it didn’t feel right. Here they were, in a perfectly mediocre Tower, making a bad situation worse instead of helping. In public, his dad always glossed over the part about the possibility that this Tower, weakened after so many years of strain, could implode when the veil was breached. “No sense worrying the peasants,” he had said in private.
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Tanner kept pretending to listen, nodding once in a while. Suddenly, the faint sound of screeching and crashing could be heard from outside, off in the distance. People shifted nervously in their seats, looking around in confusion.
“Inquisitor Carlson!”
“Yes, Archbishop?”
“Go investigate that noise.”
“Of course, Archbishop.”
Gunshots rang out. People stood, scrambling to figure out the source of the disturbance. Weapons were unsheathed, armor was donned. Tanner sat, frozen. Was this the time to act?
“Hierophant Seraphina! Take a Divine Strikeforce to support Inquisitor Carlson. Deal with the issue swiftly. No need to keep anything secret, not anymore,” the Archbishop said smugly.
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Blood Oats
The leader of the Blood Oats lounged in a bathtub, pushing red-tinged bubbles from one side of the tub to the other and watching the steam inch lazily up to the ceiling. The room was opulent, with gold-trimmed tiles and plush rugs covering the floor. The walls were adorned with expensive tapestries, and the scent of rosewater wafted through the air, warring with the coppery scent of blood. As she closed her eyes and relaxed in the water, she let out a contented sigh. It was nice to be away from the squabbling of the clueless.
The padding of booted feet in the hallway made her roll her eyes, dragging her out of her relaxation. Good help was so hard to find, it would be a shame to have to execute another servant for wearing shoes indoors. She suppressed a sigh, not wanting to leave her peaceful moment, but also knowing that it must be important if someone was risking her wrath by ignoring her footwear rule.
She stood from her bath, grabbed a fluffy white robe, and wrapped it snuggly around her body as pink liquid pooled on the floor.
"Come in," she said, as she turned her back to the door, pretending to rearrange golden plates of delicacies on one of the many tables.
The door burst open, revealing a sweaty man in red. He was out of breath and dripping on her floor, either from fear or from having run all the way through her estate.
"Master, the Church of the Tower is mobilizing. Our scouts have spotted Hierophants leading teams of Awakened through the streets.”
The leader of the Blood Oats frowned, her hand holding a plate above the table freezing midair as she contemplated the new information. Why now? The timing just seemed so off. With the festival less than two weeks away, why not just wait until everyone was busy with the festivities? That was, unless the Church knew what surprise the Tower had in store for the festival...
"Fine, then we need to ready the next phase of our plan. Spread the word, we're moving up our timeline," the leader said, a deep frown forming on her face. "It’s time to prove that the Church is holding back as much as we think they are."
“But, Master, we aren’t ready.”
She took her time turning around, relishing the look of fear on her minion’s face as she locked eyes with him. Blood bloomed across her body, slowly soaking into her robe until it looked identical to her subordinate’s.
“If the Church isn’t waiting for the festival, neither are we,” she said slowly. “Tell the lieutenants to move. Now.”
He didn’t grace her with as much as a bow, turning around and fleeing down the corridor.
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Market Alley
Rumors spread throughout the entirety of the Slums. The Church of the Tower was mobilizing holy strike teams, searching building by building, looking for something… Or someone. Fear shook people to their cores. Nobody ever expected another floor-spanning inquisition.
Others also feared a ramping-up of the ongoing gang war. Whispers in Market Alley said that the Blood Oats were either delivering ultimatums or forming an alliance, one that could change the balance of power in the Slums. Gang members in red were spotted delivering packages to the Sons of Blades, the White Nights and the Shadow Syndicate’s headquarters.
Despite all of the commotion, people were still optimistically preparing for the festival. With all of the hardship and bloodshed of late, even the most ardent cynics were looking forward to what event the Tower had arranged for the festival this time around. Refreshingly, there were even a few people that were spotted already wearing festival masks as they went about their business, adding to the anticipation and the growing excitement.