A Legacy of Blades - An Epic Tower Fantasy

Anilith awoke to a serene sense of calm, unlike anything she had known, although awoke wasn't quite right. It was more accurate to say she felt reborn from a dreamless sleep. The various aches and pains that Anilith had forgotten plagued her daily life simply became non-factors. It's amazing how many things you take as natural parts of life, only to marvel at their blissful absence. The last memory she had was a shout, turning to see a reaching hand, and a burst of light. She couldn't make heads or tails of the scene, and found herself dizzy trying to consider what it meant. All things considered, she felt disoriented at the apparent normality she was experiencing. It wasn't her normal, but even she had a hard time defining it any other way. Coupling her disorientation with the unsettling lack of noise from her absent siblings, because, of course, they weren't with her, painted the peaceful setting unpleasantly. Sure, to anyone else, all of those factors would have been a blessing to lose, but they were still hers.

It's impossible to understand without firsthand experience, but the lack of an ever-present ache was more noticeable than its presence. On a conceptual level, it seems simple enough, but that discounts the way something you've become so familiar with becomes a part of you. You stop noticing its presence the moment you incorporate that ache, that philosophy, that person as an aspect of your identity. In that way, it is something that must be experienced to be truly understood, and the world is left stranger, even incomplete, in its absence. For Anilith, it imbued her sense of normalcy with a hollow aspect, an echo of things that should be, but weren't.

It reminded her of stories told by the wounded. Those who venture into the swamplands do not always return unscathed. Tales told by amputees described the sensations of their now phantom limbs. That seemed akin to what she felt, it was a phantom pain: a pain that you know should be, but is ever more conspicuous for its absence. Even when grappling with this phenomenon, her phantom pain paled in the face of that dreadful silence.

Anyone who has helped raise a child knows that silence is more telling than any amount of noise. Noise tells you, whether hurt or in the throes of joy, that the child is relatively safe. Noise gives so many small details. From the bumps of misfortune to the squeals of laughter to the cries of distress, noise is the story of life. Silence, not so. Silence breeds worry, silence breeds secrets. Silence is not natural in the domain of the young, nor that of the living. Silence is something anathema to life and its ever-present background noise.

For all that she sometimes wished for just a touch more rest, this silence was worse than any exhaustion she knew. Sometimes the things that drive you mad are the very things you miss so dearly when they're gone. She thought she was mentally prepared for this aspect of pursuing Empowerment, it was inevitable after all. We are so often mistaken when we think ourselves prepared.

No, she knew a part of herself would dread the companionship of this waking silence until she made it back home. Something nagged at her at that thought, an uncertainty born from ignorance, suspecting things may not be as they were. Those brief, disjointed moments before being Chosen by the Tower left her unsteady. Knowing it didn't serve her, her choice was made, and there was no going back; she buried that feeling. Determined as she was to return in greatness, lifting her family to new heights in the process, she knew she could struggle through this. She also knew the silence would live inside her, fighting to break her will in the trials to come.

Seeing no hurry to leave, she took the time to lie on a bed in the corner of the room she found herself in, processing some of the disorientation that plagued her, and relaxing a moment before throwing herself headlong into her next trial.

When she finally sat up and took in her surroundings, Anilith found the room was quaint and comfortable, reminiscent of her family home, but perfectly suited and sized for her. It was minimalistic, but she found that calming. Light streamed gently through a curtained window, the veil shifting in the breeze. She didn't recognize the material, but it appeared soft as silt. A brief touch confirmed the texture, and she imagined the material would make wonderful bedclothes. A heavier curtain hung tied back, ready to block out the light at a whim. The breeze held floral hints of a pleasant summer day. Standing from the bed, she walked to the nearest window to glean more information regarding this new setting.

The sun was rising over fields of green and gold that stretched for miles before her. It was a sight unlike any she'd ever known. Vast clear spaces like what lay before her were unheard of in the Moors. The clearing at the Holy Grounds was larger than any she'd seen in her life before the Tower, but even that could sit comfortably in but one of these fields.

She found herself on the outskirts of a sprawling town. It wasn't quite a city, if her Master's revelations about the Holy Grounds gave her a proper concept of scale, and yet larger than the villages of her people. The town had low walls and nominal defenses. Short buildings dotted the area before her window. Pastures with all manner of livestock spread out beyond the chest-high walls of stone. Some creatures she recognized from her marshy home, while others were utterly foreign. It was unnerving to be thrown out of her element so soon after entering the Tower, but she saw people out there squeezing the breasts of large animals, and it left her with a disquieting feeling. Worse still, some were sampling the goods with smiles.

The reptilian livestock, she saw a pen with what looked like lowbacks not far beyond the walls, was more natural. Even the wide assortment of birds was familiar, in its own way. Eggs, whether large or small, were a staple of marshland living. Hides and bones, ivory and claw, all had their place in her world. She came from practical stock and knew not to be wasteful, and yet to drink from other creatures like their own offspring; some things were more unnatural here than she anticipated.

Moving to a window on the opposite wall, the only other window her new home possessed, she looked out once more. Taller, though no less provincial, buildings sprouted from the earth towards the inner districts. After witnessing the sunrise, she could only imagine how sunsets would illuminate the town before her.

Despite the homesickness and worry, she couldn't help but note the excitement simmering beneath her unease. An unsettling headache settled over her as she considered her homesickness. The more she thought about home, about the specifics of her life before this place, the more intense the headache grew, until it became a spreading pain, a pain that threatened to overcome her entirely. Unable to cope with such unexpected, inexplicable agony so soon after waking, Anilith refocused herself on her goals. She came here to get stronger, but beyond that, one thing was certain: there was a whole world to explore out there. Knowing she had only scratched the surface of what the Tower had to offer, she readied herself to step beyond these four walls.

The town represented a surprisingly eclectic medley of Moorish life. Yeah, there were the oddly foreign elements sprinkled throughout, but more and more Anilith noticed a distinct influence from her people. That isn't to say everything reminded her of home. No, the Moorish people were a many-colored tapestry. The influence of the ancient tribes was seen in the different customs of the modern villages with which she was familiar, but that influence was even more evident in this strange town.

Time has a way of diluting things, and culture is no exception. Where the cultures she knew were watered down with what they termed traditions, the town before her gave her a glimpse of a world as it was before the establishment of traditions her people viewed as ancient. Sure, she could identify more contemporary signs here and there, but they were in the minority. Still, for everything she recognized, there were many sights far cruder, more raw and lacking the refinement of time's touch, than she knew from her life in the Moors.

The clothing was many and varied, from the simplest furs to clothing that covered people in a way she hadn't seen. Those clothes seemed both lighter and more form-fitting than the styles of her people, and some had strange catches running up their midsection, keeping them from blowing freely in the wind. As it was neither cold nor hot, simply a comfortable medium, there was an element of freedom to the garb to which she was unaccustomed. Add in the lack of rain, and she could see herself experimenting with new styles in her time here.

She could count the clear days she'd seen in her lifetime on the hands of her family alone. Even if it was merely misting, the varied forms of rain were an ever-present part of her life to that point. Foreign as it was, she relished the touch of sunlight. It made sense to her, with the climate being so fair, that people here could give more thought to luxury and seemed to have evolved a culture all their own, drawing elements from the old and the new to make something entirely other.

Anilith gained a new appreciation for the word "Ancient" that day. Her Master was the most ancient thing she knew before then, but even he lacked the weight this place possessed. Time leaves a mark all its own, one short-lived, mortal races rarely see in their brief lives. This strange town encompassed the breadth of Ages in a way not even the longest-lived civilizations could manage. She felt certain that, if she searched with enough determination, she could find evidence of people before the ancestral tribes of the Moorish people. Yesterday, she would have never entertained such a fanciful notion…but today she found it hard to deny its possibility.

The Elders had long sung the song of Ascension, wherein they claimed the Tower held secrets enough to reshape a Chosen's world. The song of Ascension was the foundation for the Ritual of Empowerment and the goal of anyone who walked that path, though its meaning remained a mystery. The Elders said, "A goal which has no end in sight holds greater promise than any other, for those with the will to persevere." She had attributed those words to poetic license, so prevalent in her people's oral histories, but she now found herself faced with an even stranger truth. Poetry, for all its evanescence, stands with one foot firmly rooted in the otherworldly permanence of magic.

Anilith wandered the town for a time, never straying too far inward for fear of losing herself in the wealth of novel experiences offered by the town. She had her entire time in the Tower to explore her surroundings more thoroughly, but she was eager to start her journey. She came here with purpose and knew that any needless wandering, even to sate her own curiosity, held the potential to waylay her from her goals. Still, Master had always cautioned her against rushing into situations entirely blind. Some exploration was warranted, that she might take the right first step down the path before her.

Hawkers lined the streets anywhere she went, calling passersby and advertising their wares. Some terms she knew, others were entirely novel to her. More than a few were advertising bottled liquids they called "potions" that she could only guess the purpose of. They reminded her of the tonics older men would seek for less than savory purposes, or women might take in their journey to motherhood. Those vials, as oft as not, failed to perform as advertised. Anilith kept her distance from these peddlers, not certain she wanted to trust their word about the contents of the bottles.

The breadth of language present in the streets, even this far from its center, was astounding. She understood many people, presuming them to be from a village like her own, but other snippets of conversation seemed twisted, almost broken to her ear. It seemed a language only steps removed from her own. At times, the meaning was clear to her, but at others, she found herself uncertain. Still stranger were the merchants speaking tongues she couldn't decipher at all.

While Anilith was lost in thought, a merchant, dressed in the finest clothes she had ever seen, called out to her, "Hey, you, Lady with eyes full of wonder. Come here." His accent was foreign, but his words were clear and undoubtedly in her language. He was staring directly at her, and when their eyes met, he continued with a smile. "I see from the way that you stare, you are a newcomer in this home of ours. Come, talk with Pashikh a moment."

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

Having come across no better source of information, Anilith decided to entertain the dusky-skinned man. "Hello, honored merchant. It seems I've given myself away already. Yes, I've only just arrived."

"Ah, speak less of honor here. Give away too much of who you are, and those who know the signs will prey upon your weaknesses. Come, come! Step inside and let us have some measure of privacy, yes?" A tent appeared at his words, appearing as if from nowhere, exactly where he gestured. "Know that Pashikh intends you no harm and vows to respect the tenets of the Tower."

An unknowable feeling of certainty washed over Anilith, telling her beyond any doubt that this strange man spoke truly. He posed no danger for her, well, that wasn't quite right…he simply could not harm her from the moment he spoke those words. Her certainty nearly washed away the shock at seeing his shop, for what else could it be, spring from nowhere. He turned and entered, holding the flap open for her. She followed in turn, curious as to what he might offer.

"You are gifted? Where did this place come from?" Anilith stood inside the tent, her shock having returned tenfold upon seeing the much larger space inside than out. Whether she stood stunned for moments or minutes, Pashikh remained unfazed, his practiced smile lingering at the edges of his mouth.

"Ah, but I forget how it is to be new, a failing of mine. Lady with eyes full of wonder, we are all gifted here, but I suspect you will discover that truth in time. This is not my gift, however. A gift, yes, but one given by our benevolent host. The Tower rewards those deserving of favor. I have worked hard to deserve my own. It is why I seek to advise one such as yourself."

Realizing she had never introduced herself, she bowed in apology. "I am Anilith. Forgive me for failing to introduce myself to one who hosts me with peace."

"An Illith. A name holding meaning. But all names hold such. It is the journey of many to understand the naming of things, and I caution you: do not give a name too freely. I vow no harm; not all are so inclined. A warning must be balanced, and advice I offer as well. Perhaps another name may serve as protection."

"Just Anilith," she replied, confused at his pronunciation. "I appreciate the warning, and I will keep that in mind, but I am who I am. I see no reason to hide that."

"Are you? Yes, I suppose you are. What is, you may find, may not always be, but we get off track." He moved to sit in a chair in a comfortable sitting area. A plush rug lay before it, and he indicated another chair for her. "Come, sit. I suspect you know little of this place. It is the way of things that people are born in ignorance, but I can offer some insight, for a price."

Having suspected his offer had strings, Anilith simply asked, "And, before we go further, what is this price?"

"Ah, it is nothing now, only the promise of future business. You see, Lady An Illith, I am nothing more than a gatherer of information. My services are invaluable here, but to truly find new secrets, a new perspective is often needed. You can offer me this perspective; I can offer you a start. Some things, I will tell you. I am practiced in this. Some things, you must ask. I caution you; the greater the secret asked, the greater the cost owed."

He poured himself an amber liquid from a carafe she hadn't noticed before. "Our host does not like shortcuts, so there are limits to what I can say. Our bargain can mitigate these circumstances, yes, but still, there are limits. First, tell me what you have noticed."

"I'm sad to say, this won't be a long list. I haven't been wandering long, so I haven't seen too much. I've seen a remarkable assortment of people, evidence of many cultures coming together, felt a strange weight that feels timeless, and heard languages I've never known. I have seen a world far different from where I call home, with scents and sights, even weather that is both unfamiliar and marvelous. I've seen a community that is larger and more complex than anything I had imagined until shortly before my time here. Anything else has been lost in the many new experiences, and I suspect I will answer better in the future."

Pashikh's eyes unfocused like he was lost in thought before, suddenly, he clapped. "Yes, this is a good start. Many see less, having wandered more. First, I give you this, and this comes freely as a gift from our host." He pulled out papers bound in leather and held it out for her to take. "This is a primer for the languages you have witnessed. Go, take it. Study it a moment."

Unsure what she was taking from his hands, she was surprised at its weight. She grabbed the edge of the leather and flipped it aside. She didn't know what she expected it to contain, but the torrent of knowledge that hit her was definitively not it. The sensation was brief but left a headache in its wake.

"I'd ask what that was, but I understand now that was a book, of sorts, anyway. I think that leaves me with more questions, though," she said, mentally cataloguing the depth of knowledge she now possessed on multiple languages. "I didn't even know what writing was until a moment ago, but now I know I can read. My people use symbols to convey simple meaning, but this holds so much potential. How much knowledge could be preserved if the Ekreeti had a fraction of this knowledge?"

"Ah. That I cannot answer, Lady An Illith, but yes, language is a valuable skill."

"I thought you said the Tower doesn't like shortcuts," Anilith asked, realizing she couldn't qualify this gift any other way.

"True, this is true. There are things our host likes less, though, and has been known to make exceptions to avoid. Inefficiency, to say it simply, is irksome to our benevolent host. Miscommunication is a particular form of inefficiency that is disliked, particularly as it most often leads to confusion or conflict. Misunderstandings are best avoided, but it was first up to you to see where your understanding was lacking."

"That hardly seems the most efficient approach, though. Could it not just gift everyone a primer like this upon entry?"

"The ways of the Tower are strange, and I do not question them. Our host is ancient, and time always leaves a mark." Almost as an afterthought, he added, "Ah, and I would caution you not to refer to our benefactor as 'it.' While our gracious host would never harm you directly, the Tower can make your life unpleasant in other ways. Best be cautious when dealing with unknowably old sentience, no?"

Slightly uncomfortable at the thought, she asked, "You're telling me i..the Tower is aware?"

"Could anything exist so long without some guiding force? I think not. Regardless, that's not for us to concern ourselves with, I simply wish to offer advice. Best avoid unintended repercussions."

"Okay, moving on. What can you tell me about this place?"

"A good question, and one I hoped you'd ask!" Pashikh clapped his hands together again and rolled his shoulders. A table appeared with a map laid out on top. He pointed at the center, "Here you see our wonderful town. This is our fortress, despite its appearance. It has held many names over the years, but most refer to it as the Hub or Spokane, due to the main thoroughfares piercing it like spokes in a wheel. At least…that is where I think the second name came from. In truth, no one knows the origin, only that it sprouted from the mouth of a drunkard in a tavern long ago, and the name stuck. Let us get back to the point."

"The area nearest Spokane," he indicated a large stretch of grasslands stretching out in all directions, "serves many purposes. We graze our livestock there, as you may have seen. We grow crops to feed our citizens, and man outposts to manage the beast populations. These outposts also serve as information relays for intrepid individuals seeking to be of aid in their journeys, rather than needing to return all the way to the town. It saves some time, but our host does value efficiency where possible."

"Further out, beyond the outposts, lies the domain of adventurers. Greater danger and greater reward can be found in the lands beyond. None are more dangerous than the far south or the far north. To the far south lie the Brined Depths, an endless, fathomless body of water that tastes of salt, like tears; to the far north lie the Pillars of the World, mountains that pierce the sky and hold up the heavens."

"Between the Pillars and the plains lies the Icebound Tundra, a barren land with sparse vegetation. Between the Depths and the plains lies the Blasted Expanse, a sanded land mirroring the Tundra. The Expanse is as hot as the Tundra is cold, and neither is hospitable to newcomers. To the east and west, the lands are more temperate. They have gone by many names through the years, but you'll find them more approachable. Now, their names hold no warnings to stress the danger of the lands north and south. Ah, but they are by no means 'safe.'"

"The lands to the west have a drier clime, with the Forest directly west as the crow flies. North of the Forest lies the Taiga, a fusion of its neighbors. It is a cold and wooded area, but hardly as biting cold as the Tundra nor densely wooded as the Forest. South of the Forest lies a grassland, the Savanna. Much as the Taiga to the north, it marries the features of its neighbors. I warn you, it is not like the plains around Spokane, despite bearing a similar appearance."

"The lands to the east mirror their opposites, all of a humid clime. The Jungle lies due east, its trees grander than the Forest by far. It is a land known for the poisons found within. North of the Jungle stands the Muskeg. It is a wet and frigid land that warrants preparation. South of the Jungle stand the Marshlands. As humid as they are warm, these lands take a certain acclimation."

"Here, in the center of all, we find ourselves in a blessed balance. We are, in a word, comfortable." He took a long drink from his vessel, seemingly parched from letting loose the sluice that held back his words. Unfamiliar as his words were, Anilith knew she had never heard many of the terms before; she had a clear picture of what Pashikh meant. The knowledge granted her by the primer was more complex than just definitions; the knowledge it granted also included descriptions of what creatures might lurk in each place. This knowledge was limited, but still useful. She would be able to identify creatures she'd never known, but she remained unfamiliar with what tactics each might employ. The Tower, it seemed, wanted people to learn such things firsthand.

Having drained the remnants of his beverage, Pashikh continued while pointing at four points on the map, each along a main road and near the edge of town, "Here in the Hub, there are places here, here, here, and here where adventure notices are left. These usually detail the location of particularly aggressive or dangerous monsters, but there is always work for those interested in less exciting endeavors, yes?"

"What other kinds of work do they post there? What's the pay?"

"Ah, yes, we have our own form of currency here. Truthfully, there are many, but some hold more value than others. These," he said, pulling colorful marble-like gems from nowhere, "are called rupees. The Tower named them itself, so do not bother wondering about the origin. Rupees are accepted near anywhere one can trade for goods. Others, like myself, are happy to trade in information. Few currencies are more valuable," he said with a smile.

Anilith knew, unknowingly, the value of each gem and simply moved on without questioning it. "And the work?"

"But of course! Oh, there are jobs of all types, from gathering up pets, to delivering goods, to providing armed escort. Those last jobs have a bad reputation, but I don't see the fuss. Take as many notices as you like, but take care not to lose them. Each has a set time to complete, listed on the page. Take too long, and the notice will be posted once more. Ah, but do not worry. The work is endless and varied, and there is something for everyone who wishes to work. Of course, you can simply go out and slaughter beasts, but that is an unrefined work I take no part in."

Anilith couldn't shake the feeling that Pashikh had been on the receiving end of more than one escort notice and wondered for a moment if her payment might come in such form. Surely, they couldn't be that bad.

"What do you think I should do first, Pash?"

His eyes narrowed for a moment at the nickname before he replied, "Ah, but I cannot say. In times like these, I find it is best to follow your heart. Surely, something that we discussed spoke to you, Lady with eyes full of wonder."

Feeling she'd wasted enough time, and knowing she could drive herself deeper into debt here if she was willing to while away the day, Anilith stood up from her remarkably comfortable chair. "Well, I thank you, sir. Best be off, following the winds of fate, as Master might say. I'm sure I'll be seeing you."

"May fortune favor your path, An Illith. Be mindful of the whims of our host. Ah! But I almost forgot…" Not one for patience, Anilith had already exited Pashikh's bivouac. "I do hope she stops at the notice boards before leaving. I am not sure she appreciated my warnings. Ah, but oh well. I shall see her again, or I shan't. Not all investments pay off."