Armareth's Tower

“We are going to die here,” Hanna said. Her eyes were closed and so were Zoey’s. David couldn’t stay still enough to join them. Ignis had been taunting him since they were thrown in and now the man in the cell opposite them was staring again. His eyes were pure black, the rest of him was covered in grime. His clothes were torn and there were new scars on his arm where he had apparently scratched himself.

He was quiet now though. Many of the other prisoners still moan like sufferers in a psych ward, some screaming. Once or twice David saw someone manipulate enough essence to shake the grounds. Yet, no one broke out.

“Not if we get out,’ David muttered. He’d been thinking, trying to picture why the bars were not crashing down. Some of the prisoners were strong enough to blast through the stones and crumple iron, but all they did was create tremors.

“We can’t,” Hanna said, opening her eyes. Her wounds had stopped bleeding but they still looked red and raw. She pushed off the ground and walked over to the left end of the wall and pointed to the white mark inscribed on it. Then she traced the wall to another just before the bars dug into stone. “Those are runes, numbskull.”

David frowned. He was about to ask how she knew when he felt the tiny strands of essence from it. Like tiny threads knitted to form the symbols. He peered closer, cursing.

“Your friend has some sense,” the man in the other cell said. He slid down to sit against the bars of his cell. “Of course, she will lose what little sense she has after Galan sells her service two or three times. None of us retain it, believe me.”

David stared at the man’s back, unsure of what to say. He’d wondered if any of them could speak at first. The cell to his left was divided by a rough stoned wall. Everything here looked bleak and the smell was oppressive. He took a step forward and gasped when he saw the full tower ring on the man’s exposed arm. Yet what the man had done with essence didn’t look like what someone that weak could do.

“What do you mean?” David asked, finally finding his voice. The man turned with a grunt and started to scratch severely at his arm. Then he stopped suddenly, as if he’d just realized he was hurting himself.

“For some they are sold to the nobles, rented, as if we are DVDs to be bought and returned.” He stopped, interrupted by an extremely guttural cough. His breathing was labored when he was done. He moved his head lazily, wiped his mouth and continued. “Those who go to the nobles are the ones who get it easy. They are raped, made to fight each other, kill each other. Again and again and again. Until there is not a shred of humanity left within them. This takes a while and many of us…” he nodded to the long stretch of cells. “They adapt.”

“You didn’t,” Zoey said, walking over to join David. Hanna too.

The man stared at them for a moment, apparently unable to continue because he soon started sobbing. He pulled his knees up and wrapped his arms around himself. He looked weak now, almost as if he hadn’t done something completely unnerving some hours ago. He had terrified David, like a horrible monster pulled out of a Lovecraft novel.

“He was sent to the Brothers of Ash.” The voice came from the cell next to theirs. It was deep but slow. Each word was slurred, but by an accent. More like a disability. David tried not to imagine what the man’s looked like. “He was the only one they brought back to the old man. The Brothers of Ash are not humans. They are some of the worst, or so I have heard.”

David recalled Galan mentioning the name. He’d warned them of the Brothers of Ash too.

“Did you try to move past this floor?” David asked. The man scoffed. Someone else chuckled there.

“That feels like a long time ago. You folks are new then?” The man asked. “I am William, from Birmingham. Our friend over there was called Fred or Greg… it has been so long that I don’t recall.”

“David. What happened to you?” David asked.

“Same thing that will happen to you, and those that will come after you. Any who think about leaving the third floor are brought here, sold like slaves and abused until our minds break. Those who become damaged like our crying friend there is abandoned until they scratch and tear through their own throats. We can’t flee because of the runes infused with essence. At least that is what we tell ourselves.”

“William, you will scare them.” A woman said. David could tell if the voice was coming from William’s cell or the one after it.

“It is the truth,” William replied grimly. “Those the Brothers of Ash bring back are only husks, left to slowly fade into the dark nights. It is strange, isn’t it? We are imprisoned in a tower by an otherworldly god and then enslaved by our fellow humans.” He spat.

The woman laughed manically. David wasn’t sure if she was laughing at what William said or at him. When her cackles ebbed to chuckles, David heard William mutter a curse.

“What levels are you?” The man William called a husk asked. He stood up slowly to face David. “You? I can sense something in you. I sensed it when those devils brought you. It spooked me.”

“Everything spooks you, Husk,” the woman said and started to laugh again.

“Silence witch,” the man cursed, turning left. David followed his gaze but he couldn’t see what the man saw. “If I could break through these holds, I would tear you apart like you deserve, and then burn you. No world deserves your existence.”

The woman laughed harder, which angered the husk man even more. In the end he ignored her, choosing to regard David again.

“How many tower rings?” He asked again.

“One,” David said. The woman hissed. The husk man shook his head.

“I had hoped you were on your second ring. It would take a precise control of essence to destabilize the rune enough to free us.” His cough overwhelmed him again, wrecking him from the inside. He spat out blood when it was done, his breathing loud and ragged.

“You are close to your death, aren’t you Boston boy?” The woman asked, mockery lacing every word.

“You know how to free us?” David asked. The man groaned. He looked really close to dying. The light in his room was dim, but it was enough to see the spit dripping the side of his mouth. He didn’t even bother to wipe it off.

The man didn’t speak again until food was brought hours later. The bowls of oat porridge was stale in David’s mouth, but he ate it hungrily. The moaning grew louder later, the cries echoing from cell to cell as fresh smell of piss, shit and rot hovered and spread.

Once the door was shut, the husk man turned, his legs crossed in front of him. He stared at David for a moment, as if deciding what to do. The light in his cell was a notch brighter, but still only partly lit up the wide space.

He nodded, as if he’d made up his mind.

“You, girl,” he said, his eyes seeking out Hanna. “You could tell they were runes because you understand the language, don’t you?” He asked.

“What?” William asked. “Who can?”

“Quiet, William.” And to Hanna, he continued, “You can understand the language or you have a deeper understanding of essence than those friends of yours.” Hanna shrugged. Then he moved his gaze to David. “I can’t seem to piece what I sense from you, will you tell me?”

David frowned, almost shaking his head immediately. He didn’t trust the man. One moment he was mad and the other he sounded like sage.

“I understand the hesitation, but you alone can’t escape, David. You will need the army of prisoners. I can’t tell how many of us are locked in here, but once you break out, Galan’s commanders will come. You will need every hand, every essence weaver you can find.”

“Essence weaver?” David asked. The man only stared, not responding. David tried to think up a believable lie, but then it occurred to him that he was being foolish. Elisha and Chloe were out there. Alone and scared. Not that he didn’t trust Elisha, but Gaora was too dangerous. He would do anything to protect them.

David sighed. He resigned himself to whatever outcome his actions would bring forth. He closed his eyes, reaching to Ignis’s realm and summoned the sword.

“I see,” the husk man said. “A divine sword. That makes sense.”

“What is that?” The woman asked.

“Something you wouldn’t understand,” the husk man said, his eyes shifting to Zoey. “You have something too, don’t you?” The husk man asked. “Something like this.”

The space beside him crack like a fractured glass. The crack stretched with an ear-splitting shriek. As the space shattered, something slithered out. It was as wide as the man himself. Its body was white and gave off a dull glow. Its scales were like layered pearls. And when it coiled around the man, it looked massive, covering him up to his chest. The serpent’s head settled atop the husk man’s overgrown hair, tongue flickering in and out excitedly.

“New friends, Andre?”

The voice came from everywhere—female and child-like. David didn’t have to guess to know that the snake just spoke. Its slit eyes moved from face to face until they stopped at Zoey.

“Oh! Another druid!” It said with a chuckle and Andre, snorted.

“They are weak, Lyra.”

“So were you, some years ago. You should give them a cha—”

The Vjognir appeared. It was larger. Its fur radiating an oppressive flow of pressure. Its light was blinding for a moment and then it dimmed enough for others to look at it. Its large eyes moved to the serpent and it made a purring sound. The snake lowered its snow-white head a bit as if bowing.

“What is happening?” William asked.

“No need to bow, Lyra,” the Vjognir said, startling Zoey and David. Both stared at the floating beast. It sounded like…Etzar, but with imperial severity. It turned large eyes to David and snorted. The sound lingered in David’s mind even when it turned to Zoey.

“You can speak,” Zoey said.

“I can,” it said. “And my name is Dal.”

“You damn… you could have said something!” Zoey said, making Dal flinch back. She pulled him back, holding in front of her face, face split in a grin. “What else can you do?”

Dal wriggled out of her grasp and floated over to the iron bars. Andre stared at it, hope blooming in his eyes.

“We were supposed to do this slowly, but since this is important, you will have to forgive me for the pain,” Dal muttered as he floated back to Zoey.

“What pa—argh!” Zoey wailed as Dal.

You have triggered an involuntary integration.

You have acquired ten percent insight into Lord Dal’s Beast Will

Natural attributes will be augmented!

Temporary knowledge: The Chronicles!

You have acquired the basic understanding of rune magic.

Zoey arched back, her bones stretching as pain tore through every fiber of her existence. She heard Dal apologizing, but the beast’s voice was a distant echo. She wanted it all to stop, even if it meant her death. She prayed, pleaded and cried in the space of a few minutes. Then she exhaled, and with that relief came. The intense ache was replaced with a dull pinch of a thousand hot needles. But this time she could ignore it.

“Zoey,” David whispered, but she couldn’t listen. She could hear Dal in her mind, her blood and heartbeat. She was the beast and it was her. They had become one, each entirety knitted with the other in a complex stitch.

Do you know what to do? Dal asked. His voice felt like her thought, and when she looked down at her hands, she saw the jagged outline of essence, like a cloak. It moved as if dancing in a wind of its own making. She nodded in response to Dal. What she had to do was clear in her mind. She saw the four rune marks in the cell, found the center point where it all culminated and became a single spell binding and bars and stone.

“You just have to break into the runes, altering the functi…” Andre’s beast shushed him before he could continue.

Zoey ignored the man. She reached up, stretched a finger to touch the threads of essence. It was thin, precise. She pulled down on it, slicing through the thread. It snapped, breaking the link. The essence feeding the runes fizzled away and the runes dulled and then flaked, falling off the stone as dry skin would when peeled.

David held the bars and with a little effort the iron gave way, crashing with a loud thud. They stared at the opening for only a moment before Andre screamed for them to be quick.

“How lucky!” William screamed. David walked out, getting a better look at Andre. A long scar ran down the left side of his face. Zoey freed him first, then William. Zoey turned to Andre abruptly and touched the man’s forehead with her index finger. Andre fell, howling in agony as pain smothered him. He was sobbing as his beast slithered to merge with him. It worked faster for him, but suddenly he was just like Zoey. But where her cloak of essence was golden like her bow, Andre’s was a pure white.

“So sad that this would vanish in minutes,” he said when he stood up. Then he joined Zoey to open the cells. The prisoners came out running like demented spawns. Some stumbled, falling over themselves as they ran to escape the walls that had held them for so long. David moved away from their path. The first guard caught in the stampede was torn apart, spells shattering his shield like blade through paper. David watched the outworlders crush his remains in their blind rush.

“This will ruin their perfect city!” William screamed. David turn to see that the man’s face was smashed in on once side. Spit dripped down his open mouth that was twisted in an awkward laugh. David looked away to see Zoey and Andre coming back. Their glow had faded, but that didn’t matter anymore, they had accomplished what they wanted.

Now what? Ignis asked.

“Now we ask Galan what he knows,” David replied.