A Legacy of Blades - An Epic Tower Fantasy

"So you're tellin' me gobs ain't always been gobs," Orion said as the group neared the entrance to the red hallway, "and our slimy 'friends' ain't always been slimy?"

The crossroads at the landing atop the ladder were quickly coming into sight as Anilith felt the conversation drawing to a close. "And there are apparently more extreme effects from clearing this place than we thought, whatever that means, but, yep, that pretty much sums it up. It's all a lot more complicated than we thought. Really makes you wonder, eh?"

Orion leveled a blank stare her way. "No, really doesn't. I mean, sure, lot of implications and all that, but don't change anythin' for me. Better or worse, gobs are gobs now, no changin' that, an' maybe there's a bigger picture behind all that, but does that mean they gonna stop tryina put a sword through my guts? I don't rightly think so. May be that will change, but I ain't about to risk my hide over anythin' I don't rightly understand. As far as that whole effects of clearin' this place, well, we'll just have to figure that out when we get there, won't we? Seein' as your dead friend said we ain't the first to have come through here, let's just start there."

"Right you are, buddy," Razhik chimed in. "You two think too much. Especially you, Ani. Your thoughts are like a lake in a rainstorm: too disturbed by the pitter-patter pattern to do any real reflecting. It doesn't suit you. We've been doing just fine reacting to things as they come; why are you so worried about future problems? Cross that creek when it stops flowing, and all that. Can't see clearly in troubled water."

Ahead of them, three other colored rugs ran into their field of view, meeting their own at the rainbow crossroad, the darkness of the room below not visible from this vantage point.

"I guess you're right," Anilith replied unconvincingly with a sigh, "It's just that—"

"You hear somethin', Razh," Orion interjected, "sounds like a real hullabaloo to me. That's a rare thing, that, 'specially in these parts, an' dangerous, to boot."

"Yep," Razhik replied, nodding along, "definitely a hullabaloo. Should I do the warding dance?"

He wiggled back and forth as if he were about to make good on his word, whatever that might entail, as a scowl darkened Anilith's features. Being on the wrong end of their humor was unpleasant, even if she knew her friends' ridiculous argument held merit."

Orion pointedly avoided glancing at her.

"Best not to draw more attention to it than needed," Orion said sagely as he massaged his beard. "We've more important matters at hand, anywho. One path down, but which to wander next?"

Hardly a moment's silence passed before Razhik replied. "I've always liked purple. It's the most regal color, you know." He pranced over to the overly plush-looking carpet of his choosing. "Oh! And it's soft, too! Must mean this is the way. Shall we?"

"How can you even tell it's soft?" Anilith blurted out, looking puzzled, "Couldn't imagine your scales let much feeling through."

"Oh, and I suppose you soft skins have a monopoly on all things soft!" The expression on Razhik's face didn't appear entirely feigned, but it could be hard to discern those nuances on his reptilian visage. "Pretty rude. If you ask me. I'll have you know that I can still tell when things are comfortable, thank you very much."

Hearing the word monopoly, Anilith felt the inherent magic of the Tower, imbued in her through the primer, expand her knowledge and gift her with understanding of the foreign word. No matter how many times she felt the sensation, it remained an unnerving experience, knowing things she felt she shouldn't.

At the unmistakable touch of the magic, she found herself wondering, Maybe that's how it avoids breaking people's brains with so much knowledge, only activating it as it becomes relevant. She couldn't see another reason the magic would become active again in those moments, but such things were far beyond her area of expertise.

She lurched back to the moment with the sudden sound of Orion's voice. "Eh, no complaints here. Truthfully, any way is better than standing around. Better to get anywhere new than nowhere fast," Orion said before his companions could entirely sidetrack them from their objectives with their harmless squabbling. "Lead on, oh, Majesty of the Verdant Waters."

The Purple path lacked any sense of urgency, continuing on without any sense of an end in sight. Behind the group, a yawning pit of shadow opened where the hallway's visibility failed. Due to whatever enchantments operated the things, the torches only stayed lit nearest the group. To their left and right, each pair ignited with an audible whoosh at their approach, followed by a gentle crackling that seemed to suggest they had always been burning, just as the torches they left in their wake faded without warning or preamble.

If Anilith hadn't seen the torches lit in the first place, she could have convinced herself they'd always been cold, even the heat of their burning, something she found herself more attuned to in the aftermath of her encounter with Pip, seemingly passed in an instant.

The journey was unremarkably dull, and it would have seemed they walked without making any progress, were it not for the increasing level of detail as they moved along. In familiar territory, it might have been comforting, but this was not anywhere conveniently under the net of safety. None of them needed to be reminded that complacency behind enemy lines was the height of foolishness at the best of times, and utterly deadly in less fortuitous circumstances.

Anilith occupied herself by observing the evolving surroundings as they moved in relative silence, precious little hinting at their passage but for the shuffling of their boots on the padded floor and the ignition of innumerable torches. The changes in the hallway were slight, almost imperceptible if the observer chose not to pay even moderate attention, but unmistakable in her eyes. Comparing the details of the walls to the utilitarian, militaristic appearance of those near the entrance to this hallway, the difference had become bluntly apparent. It was hard to imagine anyone remaining ignorant of the discrepancy, if they found themselves walking this path.

Intricate scripts, illegible even to Anilith's enhanced understanding, covered the walls in stark contrast to the bare stonework that had once adorned their surfaces.

Could this be the original form of this place, the earlier sections faded to time, or is this some vestige of artistry of people who once lived here? I suppose it doesn't do me any good debating it, but maybe I can ask Pip, if I ever run into him again.

Razhik broke the silence first, bringing Anilith out of her reflections on trivial things. "Oh. My. Gods," the serpentine creature drawled, "this is so boring. How are you two not bored yet?"

"Eh," the grizzled veteran replied, "kinda been enjoying the relative peace. Rare that we get to make any progress unopposed like this. Small blessing of the gods if you ask me."

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"What do you guys make of the walls?" Anilith asked her friends, glossing over Razhik's antics entirely.

"I figure best not worry about it unless it seems like it might be dangerous. Ain't noticed any connections with 'em, outsida bein' connected to each other, so whatever it is, I don't see it bein' dangerous," Orion replied.

"What are you two on about? What did we just say about thinking?" Razhik, the blissfully ignorant, said.

"You haven't noticed anything…funny…about the hallway?" Anilith inquired gently.

"What do you mean, funny? We're in a hidden world inside what you two tell me is a world outside a world, which I don't really care to think about, truth be told, because I've spent my whole life in this place, and besides, it doesn't really matter much what people say about the world, because the world, really, is the one you live in, and the way I see it, if nobody can change your mind, then that's the world as it exists, because really what else matters but the way you see things yourself, and you want me to be hung up on little details like walls," Razhik responded without pausing for a breath. "Oh! Look at that, Elderscript! Why didn't you guys say anything?"

Anilith and Orion only stared at Razhik's back with deadpan stares as he sauntered away.

"Not even sure where to start with all that," Anilith said when the shock caused by his lengthy, wandering reply wore off, "so I guess I'll just ask: what in the name of the gods is elderscript, why do you know about it, and how did you not see it earlier?"

"I'm more surprised he ain't noticed the increasingly shiny torches, myself," Orion added.

"Would you look at that, they are shiny," Razhik said, proving his attention span didn't mirror his breath capacity. "Ani, you have any space for some of these fancy things? OH! Wait, let's take some of the ones from the end of the hallway. They should be even nicer, right? RIGHT!?"

"I'm not even gonna entertain that question until you tell me what elderscript is," Anilith shot back.

Razhik flicked his tail lazily, nearly knocking Anilith over in the tight, well, tight when you crammed a creature the size of Razhik in there, confines of the hall.

"Pshhh," Razhik vocalized with a snort, "More funny that you don't know about it. Ani gets a pass for being new here, I guess, but you call yourself a wanderer, Ori. Not that I have a lot more to say about it. Everyone knows that no one knows where Elderscript comes from, and no, I can't read it. No one can. Never put much stock in reading old languages, myself. Or normal ones. Isn't that what you two are for? A King in the Mire doesn't exactly get invited to the library, after all. You know, for someone who thinks as much as you do, you do miss an awful lot of obvious answers, Ani."

"Fair enough," Anilith responded, shaking her head, "but if everyone knows that, is there any, I don't know, kingly knowledge that only you are privy to?"

"Nah, that pretty much covers it. Like I said, the stuff is old. You can find it here and there, though. Not all that exciting when nobody can read it. It's all over the swamps. Lots of sunken things there. They make the best homes, really. Most creatures don't go near them, though, which makes them even better!"

"Say, bud," Orion cut in, "might it be that they don't bother goin' near 'em because they're dangerous or somethin'?"

"Eh, they've never really bothered me. Oh, just don't go messing with them. Friend of mine, odd little guy, was fascinated with the things, but I haven't heard from him in a while, and he used to talk my ear off about the stuff. Something about the worst, most destroyed ruins having scratched runes, he called them, not that he knew what they were for," Razhik continued with another lazy flick, "Anyway, he always told me to be careful not to scratch them up or anything. Not sure why I'd bother."

Anilith and Orion, each eyeing the walls with more suspicion than a moment ago, both moved closer to the center of the hallway, letting Razhik walk farther ahead. "Yeah, on second thought, I'm not so sure I feel comfortable trying to take some of these torches, after all," Anilith said.

"Good thinkin'," Orion agreed, "I'm with ya there, kid."

"So, aside from potential capacity for destruction, anything else we should know while we head into this increasingly scripted area, Razh?" Anilith asked.

"No, not really. They're all over, just relics of the past, I'm sure," Razhik replied, bringing one large eye closer to the walls as he inspected the script. Suddenly, he lurched back and stopped moving.

The other two both covered their heads with their hands, guarding themselves a moment before Orion peeked out through a gap in his cloak. "You alright, bud? What…what was that about?"

"Oh, nothing," Razhik replied casually, oblivious to the scene he'd caused. "I just remembered one tiny detail. Some areas with Elderscript do funny things with magic, but it's not anything you can really predict, so I wouldn't worry about that. You two are weird anyway, so I'm sure you're fine."

"Funny…how?" Orion asked through gritted teeth.

"Well," Razhik replied while he kept walking at the vanguard, "sometimes they make certain magic stronger or weaker. Indro had a lot of theories on what they could do, but I can't remember any of that drivel. Honestly, why anyone wastes space on anything but what they know is beyond me. I know that sometimes they stop me from shadow hopping, that's really annoying. But they've never outright cut me off from my magic. These are a lot more intricate and involved than what I usually saw in the ruins, though. Oh well, I'm sure it will be fine, not much we can do about it anyway."

"One of these days," Orion said with a noticeable touch of exasperation, "We're gonna have to explore the depths of this treasure trove of knowledge you appear to be, buddy. Gods, between you and Anilith's uncatalogued ring of needless hoardin', I'm not sure I should ever let myself be surprised."

"Sounds good to me, buddy," Razhik replied, "We'll get right on it if you can ever convince Anilith to go through her not-at-all-suspicious pre-owned and occupied storage ring."

Relative silence returned as the group continued down the hall, their shroud of boredom shifting to one of careful unease.

"A dead end? All that walkin' for a cursed dead end?" Orion asked when the hallway finally reached its terminus.

"It's obviously not a dead end. That's a locked gate, with some kind of magic barriers on it," Razhik said pointedly.

"Well, seein' as there's a red, yellow, and blue barrier," Orion shot back with a touch of venom, "I'd say it qualifies as a dead end. Think you can get through there, bud?"

"Oh, definitely not," Razhik replied, "I'm just saying it isn't really a dead end."

"You're about as infuriatin' as they come, you know that? Think you can do anythin' about the red barrier, Ani?" Orion asked.

Razhik called over cheerfully as he coiled on himself, "Thanks, bud!"

Anilith looked around for a minute, taking in their surroundings. The chamber wasn't so different from the room before they found Rock-stomper, just far grander in scale. Every inch of the walls was covered in elderscript, some areas of the writing appearing more works of art than mere script, flowing in a way that somehow evoked aspects of the natural world. The script in this area was gilded, and almost glowed as it reflected the flickering torchlight.

These torches alone are far more ornate than any light source has a right to be, Anilith thought.

They were beyond the craft of any master of her people she could recall. Temperance wasn't known for creating beautiful things; always one to focus on function over form.

What good is a hammer if it won't hold up under stress? No, I'll take sturdy over fancy any day, you always said.

Still, in the festival held on the Tower grounds, she'd had the chance to witness the works of artisans who felt differently. They would have been honored to claim craftsmanship of even a single one of these torches, and yet they hung from the walls in such numbers that they bathed the enormous room in a warm, steady glow.

Tapestries obscured the script work in many places, but three were left openly on display, one each above and to either side of the gate, each a unique swirl of characters. From the one above the gate, she felt the unmistakable sense of a roaring fire, while the other two lacked any sense of familiarity, complete mysteries to her.

"Not sure, but I'm sure this is involved," Anilith said, pulling out Pip's staff.

The moment it left her storage, Orion pointed a finger at the gem set into its crown, his mouth slightly agape. "That is, without a doubt, connected to them swirly marks over the door." A smile stole across his face as he looked at something the other two couldn't see. As quickly as it came, it was replaced with bunched eyebrows and a glare. "Of course it ain't that easy. The connection's there, no doubt, but it feels…incomplete."

Not seeing any other clues, although they could admittedly be lost in the sea of detail in the wide room, Anilith said with a sigh, "We're gonna have to go back down the hallway, aren't we?"

"Well, of course we are," Razhik replied, raising his head, "Can't you see it's a dead end?"