The Tower King

Sora's jaw clenched. "How do you know my name?"

The figure remained suspended in the air, motionless. Its face expressed neither threat nor kindness. Just a strange serenity, as if all this were only a fragment of a much larger plan.

"I know it, that's all. You don't need to know any more than that for now."

Sora gripped the hilt of his sword a little tighter, but did not draw it. "In that case, why did you let me know that you knew me?"

There was a moment of silence, then the figure simply replied, "Because I do..."

He narrowed his eyes. His heart was beating faster, though he couldn't tell if it was from anxiety or curiosity. He sensed that everything that was happening here was not just a stroke of luck. And yet, he was wide awake. Conscious. There was no doubt about it.

"Who are you?" he asked sharply.

The swirls of energy around the figure rippled gently, as if breathing. "I am Nymeus."

The name resonated in the air like a distant echo, heavy with weight and meaning, even though it still meant nothing to Sora.

He took a step back, instinctively. "Nymeus...? The same Nymeus who has a temple named after her?"

She nodded slowly. "Indeed. That temple belongs to me."

Sora felt a shiver run through him. It wasn't just a strange entity. There was something about its presence, a vague impression of memory... of something immense, timeless.

"So, what do you want from me?"

A faint, almost imperceptible smile appeared on Nymeus' lips. "I... I don't want anything. But someone you know wanted to show you something."

No matter how hard Sora thought, he couldn't think of anyone who would want to show him something. Even though Jarek's name crossed his mind, he knew it couldn't be him. He might be mysterious, but he wouldn't have used a vision to show him this thing. "Who wants to show me something? And more importantly, show me what?" "

"What you are. And what you are not. What you could become... if you agree to look."

Sora stood frozen. He glanced at Elwen, still asleep against the rock, peaceful, as if frozen in another reality.

"What will happen if I agree? "

"I can't know that... You'll have to find out for yourself."

He swallowed, his thoughts in disarray. It was all too much for him. And yet... part of him didn't want to run away. "What if I don't want to see? What if I turn my back? "

"Then nothing will change. You'll be free to leave. But one question will always haunt you: what did I refuse to understand?"

Sora closed his eyes for a moment, gathering his thoughts.

Then he opened his eyes again, determined. "Then show me."

Nymeus watched him, silent. Then, without another word, she reached out toward the empty space behind her. The air vibrated, cracked like glass, and an opening appeared in the mist. On the other side, a pale light pulsed slowly, like an ancient heart.

"Come in, Sora. And remember: here, the answers are not always gentle."

He took a deep breath. And stepped forward.

As soon as Sora crossed the breach, the world around him changed once again.

The ground beneath his feet was no longer that of the forest, nor even stone or earth. It was cold, smooth, almost slippery: immaculate white marble, veined with subtle silver. A huge corridor stretched out before him, perfectly symmetrical, lined with colossal columns supporting a vertiginous vault.

Heavy tapestries with gold and purple highlights hung between the columns, each embroidered with the same coat of arms: a royal eye surrounded by a circle of flames, crowned with a broken spear.

Sora moved forward, slowly, despite himself.

He couldn't feel his legs moving, but he was moving forward. As if pulled by a will other than his own.

The further he went, the heavier the air seemed to become. The light, too pure to be natural, bathed the walls in an almost sacred white glow. There were no shadows. No cracks, no dust. Everything seemed... too perfect.

At the end of the corridor was a door.

Huge. Golden. Engraved with ancient symbols he didn't understand, but which aroused a strange uneasiness in him. Two carved doors stood before him like the promise of a secret too big to contain.

His heart was pounding.

He didn't want to open it. But he did.

His hands, guided by a dark force, rested on the door. With a low rumble, the doors slowly swung open. A reddish light filtered through the gap, casting dark reflections on the gleaming marble.

Sora crossed the threshold.

The royal hall stretched out before him like a frozen world.

The ceiling seemed so high that it was lost in the clouds. Huge stained-glass windows bathed the room in a bloody light. And in the center... a throne. Gigantic. Carved from a shiny black material, encrusted with red jewels that pulsed like beating hearts.

But that wasn't what froze him.

It was the blood.

The throne was stained with dark, dried spots that ran down its armrests like open veins. And on the seat, slumped, head tilted to the side... was a figure.

His heart skipped a beat.

It was him.

His body. Lifeless.

His own corpse, dressed in royal attire he had never worn, his chest pierced by a broken spear. His eyes were open, empty, staring at a ceiling they could no longer see. His arms hung limply, as if abandoned.

Sora took a step back, breathless.

An invisible hand seemed to grip his heart.

He wanted to scream, but no sound came out of his throat.

And the vision collapsed.

In the blink of an eye, the marble cracked, the tapestries burned silently, the throne faded like a mirage... and everything returned to mist and silence.

He fell to his knees, panting, his hands trembling.

Before him, the silhouette of Nymeus reappeared, floating in the mist.

She was looking at him. "Don't forget what you just saw," she said softly. "Even the worst of visions can be your best weapon." "

Sora slowly raised his head, still short of breath. And whispered, "What does that mean?"

Nymeus did not answer right away. She tilted her head, then simply whispered, "That, I cannot tell you... only you can understand its meaning. "

And with those words, her form began to dissipate into the air, like a cloud blown away by the wind.

But before she disappeared completely, Sora immediately stood up and asked one last question. "Who wanted me to see this vision?"

With a final ripple, Nymeus replied, "Rin."

A complete silence fell, as if the world had held its breath.

Sora stood frozen.

The name echoed in his head with the force of a thunderclap. Rin. The one he had been searching for since his arrival on ARK. The one who had brought him here and whom he had to find in order to finally get answers to all his questions. Had she... seen that throne? Did she know something? Why show him this? Was it a warning? A prophecy? A lie?

His mind raced, unable to find answers.

He looked up at the sky, without really seeing it. A cold tension knotted his gut. What he had seen was not just an illusion. It was more than that. A possible truth. An end?

No. He couldn't accept it. Not without understanding.

Suddenly, a movement caught his attention.

Behind him, Elwen. She was stirring slightly, her eyelids fluttering. Her breathing, which had been calm until then, had quickened. Her fingers were twitching, as if she were emerging from a dream.

Sora shook his head, dispelling the dizziness that was overwhelming him. He took a deep breath, buried what he had just experienced in a corner of his mind, and stood up to join her.

He didn't have the answers. Not yet. But he knew one thing: he wouldn't let this vision become reality.

Elwen blinked.

She slowly sat up, as if waking from a restless sleep. Her gaze wandered around the room, confused, then settled on Sora, who was still standing, frozen, breathing heavily.

"What happened?" she asked, her voice a little hoarse. "I... I think I fell asleep?" "

Sora looked away briefly. He wasn't ready to talk. Not about that. Not now.

"A spell," he replied simply. "Something put you into a magical sleep."

She frowned, sitting up completely. "I see, like when I was younger. What about you?" "

He shook his head slowly. "No, I didn't feel anything. On the contrary, I even saw something."

Surprised, Elwen asked him a series of questions, and Sora took the time to explain everything to her, or almost everything. He deliberately omitted to tell her about the vision he had had, as well as to mention Rin.

Nodding slowly, Elwen looked at him for a few moments, seeming to take in everything she had just heard. "And now what are you going to do?" "

"I don't really know. I have to stay in this forest for another two months, but given the state of my sword, I don't think it will last that long, so I'll try to find a blacksmith or something like that to repair it," he replied, inspecting his weapon, which was in a sorry state.

Elwen looked at the weapon for a moment, then looked up at him with a smirk. "I don't know if this will help, but there's a blacksmith in Kael'Oran. He doesn't usually help strangers like you, but if I ask him, I think he could repair your sword." "

Seeing no other option, Sora nodded with a smile, but then a detail came back to him. "Won't it be a problem if it's a sacred weapon?"

Elwen put her hand to her cheek and a big smile spread across her face. "Wait, is it really one? A real one? In that case, no problem, he'll be happy to do it."

As he was about to put his sword back in its sheath, Sora stopped, noticing Elwen staring at the blade with a look of wonder.

He raised an eyebrow. "I know these weapons are rare, but still, you don't have to look at it like it's a legendary treasure."

Elwen didn't answer right away. Her eyes sparkled with an almost childlike glow, as if she were rediscovering a forgotten fragment of her dreams.

Then she sighed, a sincere smile on her lips: "But that's exactly what it is."

"I knew sacred weapons were rare, but judging by her reaction, it's as if she's seeing one for the first time in her life," thought Sora.

Keeping her smile on her face, Elwen set off and headed back toward the village. "So, are you coming with me?"

...

After walking for several dozen minutes, the woods finally began to thin out and quickly gave way to the clearing where Kael'Oran is located, surrounded by huge rocks. They advanced to the village's main barricade.

The village watchman, Varlen, looked up when he heard their footsteps and smiled broadly when he saw Elwen waving at him.

He let them both in without asking any questions and returned directly to his post.

Even though he seemed friendly, Sora still sensed mistrust in his eyes when he saw him. He understood more and more that strangers were not welcome here.

Many faces turned to look at them as they crossed the village to find the blacksmith.

"Don't pay any attention to them," said Elwen, as murmurs spread throughout the hamlets. "They're not used to seeing strangers."

Sora understood that well. "And you, doesn't it bother you?"

Calm and relaxed, Elwen shrugged his shoulders as if to show his indifference. "No, on the contrary, it's nice to see new faces from time to time, it's so rare."

"That much?"

"Yeah... Apart from you, I must have come across..." She paused for a moment to count on her fingers, but quickly stopped. "Yeah, you're the third stranger I've come across in the village." "

"No wonder... Given how remote your village is." Thought Sora, who didn't dare say it out loud for fear of sounding rude.

They passed a few more huts before arriving at the blacksmith's. It was easily recognizable. While the vast majority were built of wood or canvas, his was made of cut stone, with a large furnace, an anvil, and a pile of various tools stored inside.

Elwen stopped just in front of it and took Sora's arm before he went inside. "From here on, let me take over. "

Sora simply nodded. He didn't have much to say anyway. He held his sword in one hand, the tip pointing toward the ground, worn, chipped, dirty. Nothing impressive, nothing noble. Just a tired tool.

Elwen stepped forward, crossing the threshold of the blacksmith's hut, which didn't even have a door to separate the inside from the outside. The smell of soot and heated metal filled the air, and the flickering light from the hearth dimly illuminated the stone walls.

The dull thud of a hammer stopped abruptly. In the shadows, a massive figure turned toward them. The blacksmith stared at them, his eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched.

"Elwen," he grunted simply, without moving.

"Hi, Bren," she replied, still smiling. She nodded toward Sora. "He could use some help. His weapon is in bad shape."