A Legacy of Blades - An Epic Tower Fantasy

"The Sea Tribes," Kewrok continued, "glory be to the great depths of our homeland, have struggled against the tyranny of the Mountain Tribes since the ancient times. We have never had direct dealings with the…neutral settlement, accepting a grudging policy of mutual aggression when our forces cross paths. Truly, this is the first opportunity we've seen for less aggressive negotiations. Since the time of my spawning, I…"

Gods, could this thing talk. Razhik had thought his friends liked the sound of their own voices at times, but at least they usually had a point! Pretty much all he'd gotten from this thing is that some creatures came from the mountains, and some came from the sea. Something about an old rivalry, and disregarding the soft-skins. It was all kind of over his head, but he did his best to listen anyway. As the creature carried on, Razhik looked to his friends. Orion stood vigilant as ever, taking note of every potential threat from the creature, but Anilith had a distant look on her face, as if she were only half aware of her surroundings, which reminded Razhik that he was trying to pay attention, being the only one who could understand this strange beast.

"…proving grounds, such as this, have long been the stage for our power struggle, for he who controls the proving grounds has power over the territory. Once, we held many. Now, we are lucky to maintain one or two beyond those that lie too far from the Mountains for the enemy to reinforce. The neutral settlement proves a potent buffer against such incursions; in this way, so we have appreciated its presence."

"I'll be honest, I'm still not seeing where we come into all of this. It's a…fascinating…story, but doesn't really explain anything about right now, you know?"

"I am getting to that, serpentine one, but I shall try to move more quickly. We seek to conquer this proving ground, and ask your assistance in the matter. Whatever treasures you earn in the conquest, we shall be happy to relinquish into your care. The Mountain Tribes' forces are great, and you may find a difficult battle awaits you. We can alleviate some of this burden, sending warriors to aid in the assault, you need but agree and signal us when the hour is come."

"So, what you're saying is that there are a lot of goblins, up there in their fortress, and you'll sacrifice a bunch of hoppers to help us get in. You want the fortress, and we get the treasure?"

"That would be an…accurate summation of our offer. What say you?"

"Well," Razhik drawled, "I'm not sure that's exactly a fair split of rewards. From the sound of things, you all kind of need us for this to work. That's all you can offer us, really?"

Kewrok stared inscrutably at Razhik. "Our alliance would be more than enough, and the ability to use the Forest garrison as a staging ground to assault neighboring territories is a given. Unfortunately, I can only extend that offer to those present, as further negotiations would be needed to involve the greater neutral settlement."

"I guess that's a little better, but I'll need to talk this all over with my friends, here."

"Then I shall take my leave," Kewrok stated, moving his considerable girth to stand, "take all the time you need. One of the lesser spawn shall show you to the tunnel of ascension. Accept our offer, or not; we shall not hinder your departure. It is up to you if you spearhead our offensive, or feed the land with your lives."

When the Chieftain finally left the room, Razhik turned to his friends, who had waited patiently while he talked to the croaking monstrosity. "I might have misjudged him a little; if I'd known how much that thing could talk, I never would have agreed to this." A shiver ran down his substantial length. "Somebody should be here soon to show us the way up. He more-or-less offered us support if we clear the way for them. It doesn't seem like a bad offer, but I'm not going to pretend I trust that thing either. Anything that talks that much is hiding something, and I don't care what either of you say to that."

Orion chuckled at his old friend. "Well, he does have a point there, at least. Still, why don't we see where this tunnel leads while we have a chance, since they're kind enough to let us leave? Can't say I'd relish the idea of fightin' our way out of here."

"Just fighting our way in was bad enough," Razhik added, "I'm all for seizing the opportunity to get out of here."

Softly slapping feet alerted Razhik and Orion to the presence of another creature. It croaked, a low, quick thing. Anilith remained seated with a vacant expression, the light reflecting off her eyes in a way Razhik hadn't noticed before.

"It says it can show us the way. Shall we?"

Anilith had ample time to think while Razhik conversed with the strange, unsettling creature. It seemed to her as if some bulbous, bug-eyed snail had lain with the ugliest, most malformed lizard in existence and spawned this thing from their unholy union. She found her own thoughts to be much more pleasant than letting her focus stay on the current happenings. Even if she wasn't fool enough to let her awareness stray entirely, she let her mind wander.

The events of the past days astounded Anilith in their own right, but when she considered the months that preceded them, she felt out of her depth at the sheer ridiculousness of her situation. She walked with new friends, a man from gods knew when or where, and a creature straight from the legends of the deep bogs of her homeland. She felt certain that Razhik would feel at home there, even among what her people considered unimaginable horrors. Her perspective on things she had considered immutable was morphing, and she had been too focused on driving herself forward to properly reflect on her situation.

That focus had utterly consumed her these past months, driving her to pursue greater heights and become the hero she believed her people needed, never stopping to reflect on her time before the Tower. Reluctance threatened to swallow her alive when she thought too directly on the matter, but in that moment, she felt an urge to push through the uncomfortable feeling.

Anilith had spent plenty of time considering her gifts, her abilities, and her path to new heights of power, but she realized that she had neglected to consider the road that led her this far. Her desire to save her people had become so overwhelming that she had lost touch with her roots, forgetting how the journey influenced the traveler even more than their destination.

Something had broken within her, something she hadn't wanted to reflect on or consider. The Tower provided a convenient reason not to look back, making it all but impossible to discuss your homeland with others. After all, what was the point in talking about something if others couldn't remember what was said?

Did that mean she should live only as the Anilith who entered the Tower? Thinking back to her first day, she considered how even Pashikh had told her that people remade themselves here, casting off their old selves and forging a new name, all in the interest of protecting themselves. As he had said, there was power in a name, and that bore consideration. The approach just struck her as so…wrong, so cowardly.

This was the first lesson for those who came here to be heroes, to strive for greatness? Her own approach didn't strike her as correct, per se, merely less wrong. Hiding her name, relying on the protection of the Tower rather than changing her identity, it struck a more resonant chord within her breast than hiding, but the result was still out of tune.

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There was power in a name.

Why should anyone hide their name, their power? For fear of someone using it against them, to gain power over them? It seemed to her that if that was the weakness they feared, that was the weakness they created. If there was so much power in a name, why would people not use the power, instead of hiding it away?

Something about that train of thought triggered a memory in her, from the time before the Tower that she pushed out of mind, shying away from the incredible pain she felt when she conjured up those memories.

It had been a rainy day, not uncommon in the Moors, even if she'd grown accustomed to the drier clime of the Tower since then. She found it amazing how quickly she'd adjusted and settled into a new normal. Some part of her would always be at home in a deluge, but the sun had wormed its way into a previously flooded chamber of her heart, its warmth a comforting reflection of pleasant days. Thinking back on that day, she appreciated the solace that warmth offered her, even in memory.

Anilith moved with precision, but no matter how swiftly she struck, Temperance was ready, his shield always there to meet her blow. Despite his resilience, he had a remarkable ability to simply absorb the blow, the impact she would expect when striking something with such force lessened to the point of near non-existence, like a shout become a whisper as it left her lips.

He was steadfast, always ready to meet her charge, a whetstone put in her path to hone her Blade, to sharpen her skills until she was ready, stronger than her parents had ever been.

Thinking of them, of their failure, enraged her, causing her to redouble her efforts at finding a hole in her friend's defenses. No matter how she moved, though, he was always ready. Even when his shield could not possibly cover an opening, the face of his hammer moved to deflect her strike, sapping the momentum and dulling her rage. Even in that state, a state she despised for how antithetical it was to her normally cool head, she knew that he would always be there to balance her, to keep her in check.

When the spar finally drew to an end, neither side having claimed a clear victory, even if Temperance drew even breaths while Anilith's chest heaved, the pair turned to the Blade Weaver. At the end of every trade, they had learned to await his instruction, for that was the way of the people.

He was silent for longer than usual before he fixed Anilith with a hard stare. "You lost yourself again, young one, and in doing so lost this match. I need not ask what overcame you, for it does not matter. In battle, this would have cost you your life.

"Our people, great warriors that we have trained, do not often speak of the mindset of a Warrior, but it is this that will set you apart. You are not one who can embody the way of Rage; it holds no true sway in your heart. You must walk a more difficult path. Rage is a powerful tool, but overwhelming strength only works in the face of mundane challenges. If you continue to walk the path of the Warrior, there will come a day when you must master your mind, forging it into a tool far beyond the capabilities of Rage. A truly honed mind will defeat an enemy more surely than overwhelming strength, and empowers a Warrior beyond their limits.

"The young master embodies this virtue in a manner most unbecoming of his age, but it is a skill he has learned through patience and focus. You, my student, are at war. This much is obvious to any who knows to look, and the source is not something I must speak on; You know what troubles you.

"Tell me, what would have been the outcome of this fight, were it not a friendly spar? Would you have outlasted your friend, with everything that your rage stole from you? Did you gain an advantage for letting yourself be overcome, an advantage you might not have achieved through more controlled means? He stands nearly as ready for battle as he was before he weathered your storm, while you can hardly say the same. You know this, and yet you let yourself be lost, overcome by strife. It does not speak to your power."

A fleeting, downcast look crossed his face before he continued, "What does power mean to you, young one?"

The cadence of her Master's voice indicated this question was not rhetorical. "Power is the ability to bring your enemy to heel, to bring order to chaos, and impose your will on the world. It is what makes one an authority. You have power, Master, because of your unmatched prowess with your blade."

The Blade Weaver's lips firmed before he responded. "You demonstrate the depth of your ignorance through your failure to grasp a more complete view. Tell me, is the Blade stronger, or the Shield? Which holds true power?"

In a beat, the girl responded, "The Blade, without question. It is the tool to deliver one's power."

"And yet the young master stands victorious. Does this not speak to his power, despite his chosen role as a Shield?" He shook his head. "No, you misunderstand the full depth of power. It is the ability to impose one's will on the world, on this we agree, but power is not inherently violent. Power is just a tool in and of itself, one which, when misused, causes irreparable harm. The Shield understands the value of Balance, that for all those who would wield power as a weapon, there must be those who wield it in defense of others.

"Nothing in this world is more powerful than a balanced soul, than a person who has learned to use their Blade to defend, or their Shield to break their enemies. This is a virtue I strive to embody, and one I am far from mastering, yet you see me as powerful. I tell you honestly, humbly, there are things upon which my power would shatter, hopelessly outmatched. Each of you has a long path to walk before understanding your own weakness, as I do.

"You, young one, wield your power as a Blade, and the young master struggles to come to terms with his capacity for harm. One day, you each will understand the nature of power and the value of wielding it properly. A perceived weakness may turn into a strength through a proper application of power, and there is alwa--"

Suddenly as it came, the memory began to fade, replaced in a moment with a sight Anilith had forced from her mind.

In her moment of triumph, when everything was finally coming together and she could begin to make up for the failure of her parents, knowing her siblings were safe with her only true friend, she looked up and saw true worry on her sister's face: her sister's face that should not be anywhere near her, concern etched on Temperance and Willett's faces visible among the mass of people. The scene stood stark, frozen, a painting of a repressed memory highlighting the terrified eyes of a child and an outstretched hand. Then, the Tower claimed everyone in its grasp.

Pain blossomed in Anilith's bosom at a truth she'd refused to see.

"Shall we?" Razhik's question rang out, Anilith reeling from her memories.

Her dominant hand clutched at her chest, the pain so visceral, it hit her like a rending in her core.

She had been blind to so much, forced herself to forget so much to hide from this pain, to keep herself from being incapacitated by its touch. It spread like a fungus, growing into every spare inch of her, and she sank to her knees.

Faintly, she was aware of pressure on her shoulder. "Ani? What happened, Ani?"

Words would not come, and she fought to respond, feeling Orion rise at her side.

"What did that creature do, Razh? I thought it said it would let us leave."

"Uh, buddy, I'm not sure it actually had anything to do with this, but say the word and let chaos rain. We might not make it out, but it might just be a death deserving of a King." His trademark playful tone was absent as he finished, "For you, I'd risk it, but maybe we just wait a second?"

Anilith, still reeling from her reflections, finally spoke with a fear-parched tongue. "A…a moment. I just need…a moment. Water."

Orion procured a water-skin from one of his many pockets and eased her to a sitting position, placing the skin in her grasp.

After she drank her fill, she said, "So much…I blocked out so much, but I'm remembering. I left them. I thought he would always be there, but I left. I don't even know if I can make it back to them, and yet that hardly matters." A hard glint entered her eyes. "It's time. I can only hope we aren't too late."

Orion just stared at her. "Alright, where were you just now, and what in the names of the gods are you on about?"

"That's exactly it, Orion, names. Names have power, and power is a matter of balance. I think it's time people learn our names, but first we need to get out of this place." Pushing herself carefully to her feet, she finished, "What are you two waiting for? Let's move!"