Where am I? Feyrith woke up and curled back his hair, eyes opening slightly. The bright sting of light enveloped him, before sensation returned to his body. His eyes peered out to his new surroundings, no longer was he inside of a bit of flames, but instead surrounded by lush open space, and fresh air.

The only odd thing he could immediately notice was the tone of light that hit his skin. A bright, bloody red sun, hung up in the sky to illuminate the world.

Feyrith felt around his body, the pain he felt earlier gone, his body loose and quick, like a well-oiled machine. He was lying on a soft surface, soil, or something at least close to it.

Then, his memories hit him, a rushing stream of all that had occurred on that ridiculous day. Him reading, skipping out on training, going to Uriel’s temple, and forming a contract with her, brewing a draught, reuniting with the devil, and battling a cult.

It was a lot for a such short period. Oh, and he almost forgot what happened at the end of it all. His futile struggle and desperation for victory, his insanity and further failure leading to a fiery end as he ran toward his saviour.

He didn’t feel like moving, lying there on the ground with bland and empty eyes. Unfeeling, his heart didn’t race and his head didn’t spin. It wasn’t calmness, but numbness, his body withdrawing itself to recover from the pain it felt.

It was like a fleeting dream. When he opened his eyes, it would all be over and everything would get back to normal. He wouldn’t need do anymore, though nor would he see that shining light he longed for.

He stared up into the crimson sky, his eyes seared by the burning sun. This sight was familiar to him, but he couldn’t exactly place his finger on it.

What was it that his eyes saw?

A false sky? Or a dying sun?

Whatever it was, Feyrith couldn’t help himself from indulging in it, his outreached hands surrounding the sun like a bright crystal jewel. Nothing, just like usual.

His hands felt emptier than they did normally, like something had been in them. Something warm and comforting, like working near a cauldron in the cold months.

He missed that sensation, whatever it was, pining for it to return. Emptier than usual, he continued to stare up, ignorant of his surroundings. Then, a fleeting moment arrived, a memory passing as fainted.

I received a system notification...

It was odd, unexpected. The devil had temporarily given him access while using his skill, but at the point where he ran into that inferno, that privilege had already been revoked. Why was it now? Of all times, that a system message was sent to him, someone yet to be registered in the tower.

It was an act of nature, something unexpected, unrelated, by wholly dragging Feyrith into its story. He didn’t like to use Silverveilian sayings, but for once, he found one of them necessary.

By the damned fates.

He found a sparse voice of energy, one welling in him, urging him to get up. The world was so large, the tower so wide. As much as he hated it, the devil was right in many, as its very concept foretold.

A treasure hunter, what he had been in the game. To hunt lore, and to hunt items, it seemed like right now, this push, this urge that he had at every fleeting moment, would be useful to him.

His eyes remained cold and calm as he continued to ponder his current situation, no longer stuck on the thoughts of giving up. He wanted to do something this time, something he would find interesting.

So, he got up, hopping on to his feet, wobbly as they were, and walking. Near him, he saw a body lying on the ground. They were not dead, just asleep, their breaths slow, but steady, and their eyes tightly shut. It was Lillian.

She was alive.

For whatever reason, Feyrith felt a wave of relief rush over him. A tool he would treat this way. The day that they failed and broke was the day that they were no longer useful to him. No matter the age or purpose, every tool he had needed a purpose.

This time, he didn’t have any of those feelings. He didn’t want to throw this one away. She called him her partner, equals of the same status. It was funny, the rank 1 player saying that to him back then made him frustrated, but right now, thinking back, he was more than elated.

He was glad that she was ok, better yet, that she was silent, though that was a thought he would keep for himself.

Feyrith walked up to her asleep body and opened his palms. If there was anything he could do right now, with little to no short-term consequence, it would be helping the princess with a little of his magic.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

It was just as he had done when she broke on that day. Something to drive her conscious, to release those hormones that would allow wind to flow through her face, and to have that adrenaline pump through her blood.

Ireyas.

A warm glow went around Feyrith’s palms, enveloping them in a comforting blanket. He used that sensation, that feeling, on Lillian. In his mind, he was navigating a storied maze, wandering like a lost soul. Slowly, the spell worked its magic, as the maze became better known, and better discovered.

He saw her body rustle, tossing from side to side. Instead of intervening more, he let go of the spell and sat in wait, taking the time to gather some wood and stones for a fire.

They were in fact in the middle of a forest. Other than this, what else might Feyrith do in this time? Or, like usual, he could practise his magic.

Crackle, crackle.

Time passed by quickly, as Feyrith used magic to construct a small campfire. It simply provided a warmth he was lacking, his eyes still cold, but his body wrapped in comfort.

The crackling of the firewood slowly tempted Feyrith toward sleep, lulling him into comfort he could not bear to accept. Then, by a miracle, the corner of his eyes spotted Lillian getting up.

Her eyes remained closed, but her body was upright, hands touching the soil.

Even with this, she’s much more responsible than I am. Maybe that devil bastard was right after all...

“Good morning, sleepyhead.” Feyrith spoke, Lillian’s ears perking up at his words.

Her eyes slowly opened, widening for just a moment as she took in her surroundings. Slowly, without a word, she got up and walked toward the campfire, sitting herself down in a comfortable position before facing Feyrith.

“Where are we?” She asked.

“No idea.” Feyrith replied. “Actually, I do have some faint memories, but it goes nothing further that some recollection.”

“A red sky.” Lillian muttered as she stared down at her palms. Just like it did him, Feyrith saw the anguish of Lillian’s eyes, the day of the feast still fresh in her mind. If he were to be honest, he had no idea where, or when, he was. He could’ve slept for a millennia and he wouldn’t have known.

Still, he didn’t know how to comfort her, other than the reassurance that they both faced the same problems.

“The feast...” She spoke. “What happened? Or what did you do?”

“...” He stayed silent at Lillian’s question. How was he to answer, telling her the truth without exposing himself? Though, in his mind, he knew of another method he had instead of answering.

“I’d rather not say.” He spoke with a sigh. “I could ask the same for you, with the stunt you pulled off at the end.”

“If you’re not answering, I’d rather not either.” She spoke.

“Fair by me.” Feyrith replied. “I think, though, there’s a better way we could approach this.”

“I can tell by now that we both have secrets. Big and small.” “A deal if you call it, to speak none of it in front of each other.”

“We both have secrets, so more than anyone, we should understand their importance.”

“...” Lillian let out a sigh. “You say some good things sometimes, number 2.”

“And there you go, ruining the nice mood I made.” Feyrith grumbled.

“It’s as much my fault as it is yours.”

“That’s impossible.” Feyrith spoke. “Officer! She’s trying to frame me.”

“What’s with that?” Lillian chuckled. The tense atmosphere crumbled, leaving a relaxed space for the two of them to talk. The fire continued to crackle, setting silence on the two.

“Hey.” Feyrith suddenly spoke. “I have something I’ve been wanting to say for a while now.”

“Is it a confession?” Lillian asked. “Sorry, but I’m afraid I’ll have to pass.”

“In your dreams.” Feyrith scoffed. “Anyway.”

“Do you remember what you said to me on the day we reunited?”

“What? My whole spiel about the tower?” Lillian said.

“Yeah.” He replied.

“What’s even the point?” Lillian grumbled. “We’re lost, and out of resources. None of the plans I’ve made will work with these kinds of conditions.”

“You’re wrong.” He spoke up.

“What?” Lillian titled her head.

Feyrith stood up, and began walking, imitating the way Lillian talked during that fateful night.

“We are, in fact, lost, but we are still in the tower.” He spoke. “Whatever it is, we can find a way to make our way up or down the floors, whichever is easier.”

“That doesn’t cover the important thing. How about resources?” Lillian replied.

“We can gather them.” He answered.

“Princess. Have you ever thought about it?” He spoke. “How a run with the kingdom would actually go?”

“...” Lillian was silent, lost for words.

“I’m guessing that you’ve worked based on the limited information you have, and mainly on the experiences of your siblings.” He continued.

“It’s a good data gathering method, but might I suggest something?” He spoke. “Have you thought about how your parents treat you much differently than they do the rest of their children?”

“I’ve read into it, and not even the first-born prince received private aid from the couple. Yet somehow, we did?”

“Freedom.” He muttered, “It’s seems so complicated, yet most of the time. It's right in front of you.”

“It’s one of the reasons I kept playing Tower of Pandora, my freedom to explore and to do as I pleased.”

“Imagine that wonder, corrupted and tainted by the claws of the kingdom.” He growled. “Your parents are kind, but how about the rest of the nobles?”

“I remember you saying about what would make a good story in the context of the tower, and for right now, I’d like to make a stake in that.” Feyrith looked to the red sun, gasping for breath as he recalled his memories. It was just a month ago, yet it felt so far from this moment.

“Princess and magician, thought to be dead, climb up the tower one floor at a time.” He spoke. “Grasping to the sky to take revenge on the cult that destroyed their kingdom and ruined their lives.”

“Freedom, revenge, and glory.” He spoke. “Doesn’t that sound like a much better story?”

Feyrith stared Lillian in the eyes and held out his hand, just as she did for him. His intentions weren’t pure, but artificial and constructed. He hoped though, that this hand he offered, he did, to repay a debt, an unforgivable sin he would contribute in the future.

Partner. I hope you don’t mind if I treat you as a tool for a little while longer. His eyes glowed with a clear glimmer, a spark of silver running through his pupils. All the pieces are in their place.

Hesitantly, Lillian stared at his hand, as Feyrith continued to hold it out. Time passed, and the sun set and rose in a matter of seconds, as the silence ensued.

Ping!