The city of Trusia was considered a lower division block within the tower, its power considered but a speck compared to the floors above. In the last fifty years, none were qualified to have the skills to pass to become a Climber; however, there were many foolish youths over the years that dared to overestimate their abilities, only to be crushed by the reality above. It was not rare though to see Climbers passing through the city since it was interconnected to a first division block, and considerably the shortest route getting there while avoiding many dangers along the way.This allowed trade to prosper within the city as many people passed by from different divisions, it could be said that the city was quite a diverse place and that many Climbers even decided to retire here with the festive atmosphere that surrounded the kind people of this city.
Today was different. There was a certain gloom that flowed through the southern area of the city, it was there that a rubble of ash and wood was scattered between two large buildings, it was here that Moon Eye's Inn stood. Flowers were laid down in front of the rubble, tens of people gathering and leaving behind tokens in honor of Miss Selya, she was without a doubt a kind woman. Many cried in front of the rubble, as a casket stood there out of place in the dirty streets, noticeably the coffin was made of a yellow hued metal, any blacksmith in the city would tell you that it cost a fortune to create this. To say the least, it could have paid for four of the same Inns that just burned yesterday. It was Cellirium, a tough metal that was usually made to make weapons, it covered the coffin as if it was a protective shield.
A young man stood there welcoming each person that passed by in honor of his mother, wearing a black suit, and with his dark-green eyes, he was quite an imposing figure. However, everyone knew him, to them he was the rascal boy that bothered them for supplies, who helped them when he saw they were in trouble, even a few of their daughter's hearts were broken by this hooligan. He was like family. Why would they be scared of him?
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Krasius stood there at the rubble of his home, he knew that staying here wasn't a logical move for him, they were gonna hunt for him in fear of his retaliation. In his hands was a small box, he slowly put it down right below where the kitchen once was, his hand moving pass it in one fluid motion as it started glowing. He calmly walked away, as he hands started counting to ten from his left hand to right hand as the glow of the box started getting brighter.
'BOOM'
It was a deafening explosion, yet Krasius slowly walked back calmly without any sign of unease. Under where the box stood, there lay a small door, bending his knees closer to the door as he pulled out a key from his pocket. Inserting it inside, he slowly took a small breath as he remembered what hid inside.
"Ka Ka Ka"
Opening vertically as mechanism pushed it open, squeaking sounds filled the air, bit by bit a box protruded from the ground. Grabbing it from below, he pushed it down, Krasius then opened the oak wooden chest. Inside laid two daggers, one was a turquoise shade, while the other seemed to be emitting a cold air. Connecting the two was a wire, which seemed to be intertwined by smaller connecting wires as it spiraled towards the hilts of the daggers. The turquoise dagger was slightly curved, yet it ended with a point triangular end, while the obsidian dagger seemed to have spiral upwards from the base of its hilt.
Krasius looking at these two daggers in his hand mirroring his expressionless face, he silently thought, "I am metal, forged by fire to be steel, iron flows through my blood." Looking up he silently reminisced against the moonlight the origin of these daggers.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
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His name was Zayuf, he was a newborn Climber that recently passed the Academia's specifications to be allowed to travel throughout the tower. He was the son of a noble from one of the lower divisions that spent a fortune for his son to receive the proper training and equipment needed to survive. Skill is one thing, but looking down on luck and money was idiocy. He was without a doubt strong.
The major noble families did not appreciate this certain balance being destroyed in their city, it meant that another powerful person was affiliated with one of the nobles. It would have been negotiable if not for the fact that Zayuf was rather overbearing in his treatment to others with his arrogance in being a Climber, his Sati Family did not restrain him which caused even further discord and dissatisfaction. A bounty was applied for.
Zayuf was not particularly strong among Climbers, relatively remaining within the lower divisions in his comfort and infamy; however, it can be said that his paranoia and cautious nature allowed him to escape major threats to his life. It did not help that he held two daggers called Shurina and Glacies. They were considered to be only grade 5 weapons, but they both held special abilities which would cause a headache for any hunter. Glacies was able to surround the area with a thick mist that was vital for Zayuf's many escapes, while Shurina could help hide one's presence against enemies to a certain level.
"It took me a whole year of following his trail, following his movements, following each and every pattern as well his habits." Krasius said silently under the moonlight.
"I waited patiently, he is human, whether he is a Climber he still bleeds, I believed he would make a mistake; therefore I waited and waited, before my dagger finally cut through his throat as he fell on top of his lover, carrying his head to my client."
Standing up, he placed the daggers beneath his dark suit, inlaid was a pair of leather brown sheaths that seamlessly hid under his built. He went towards the wooden box again, scrounging for something before he pulled out a single shred of paper. Krasius grinning foolishly, he held it between his fingertips as it slowly burned around the edges until ashes were left.
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In a rowdy tavern with dark tinted orange lighting, there in the corner was a man drinking himself to death, smiling foolishly with the crowd around him as they drank with a goal to forget today. It was a joyous occasion. They lived to tell another tale of their heroics as they survived another day against the trials and dungeons of this tower.
There was a sword on the left side of his waist, he had a large built to him, his shirt barely hiding the hardened muscles underneath it. He was wearing a thin armor plating around him, and underneath him was a rectangular box that weighed twice of him. Around his body were layers of rags and bandages that he seem to take pride in as his proof of his strength. It did not escape his notice as the paper tied against the hilt of sword seemed to burn furiously.
"HAHAHAHAHA Bastard!"
"Two Fucking Years, and now you call." turning around and moving against the crowd, he shouted, "I am quitting Boss!"
The room suddenly then became silent, staring towards him. A tall man with a robe that enshrouded him look down at him then said, "Attilius, did Selve group invite you?"
"No! I am going down" bluntly said Attilius with a large smile.
"Are you fucking insane, do you know how hard it was to get here?" The surrounding men boisterously shouted.
Everyone in the room silently nodded, many of the people who were with them had died. The Tower was not a place for the weak to climb.
"A friend of mine is calling, it would be rude to not answer" replied Attilius with a devilish grin as he opened the doors to an icy hell below him.