Armareth's Tower

The silence in the temple of Amareth was an eerie thing to experience. Even footfalls were muted, every echo banished as though the sounds would mar the silver-white of the temple stones. But it felt peaceful, radiant. Every corner was illuminated by light pouring in through the windows and the high glass dome above. Enchanted crystals studded to walls gave soft blue-white lights, casting images on the stone floor where patterns and what David suspected to be runes were etched. It was one huge hall, a spread of pillars like the ones outside, all with different faces, naked and magnificent in power. He sensed essence imbued in them all, making them feel alive; titans frozen in time.

“We heard of what you did to Krak,” the priest said, leading him down to where David saw other priests waiting for them. He felt a soothing in the air. His fears were immediately dulled, pulling his mind into a false calm. David let them hold him, knowing that he could tear the veil off at any moment. He wasn’t sure how powerful the priests were and he didn’t trust them. But he didn’t want to anger them. There was no gain in fighting them or causing trouble in the house of a tower god.

“We thank you for your service,” he said, giving David an affable grin. David nodded, not sure what to say. He had destroyed the Balek cult because he had to. That had destroyed Tara and the others. He wasn’t sure he would do it again, but every time he remembered what Krak did, he felt himself leaning more toward the possibility. He pushed the thoughts away, keeping his mind in the present. They were gone, he wasn’t. He owed it to them to conquer the tower and this was a step toward that. He stared at one of the pillars holding a flickering blue light at the top of its pointing index finger.

“Who are these?” David asked, gesturing to the pillars. They held nothing—at least most of them didn’t, but he could feel something coming off them, and they were all connected somewhat. Like webs touching different parts of the temple. He couldn’t figure out the connection because of how complex it was. The priest grinned.

“Saints,” he said. “Those uplifted by our Lord Amareth. The first worshippers. That is what we call them. They saw the true face of Amareth, and they were given divine blessings directly. Unlike my generation.”

“All of them?” David asked. Everywhere he looked, he saw them. None of them had plinths. They rose high, all reaching for the dome, pointing at a common center where a blazing orb floated. It shone, but softly. Its glow was overwhelmed by light bleeding into the temple. Yet, David could almost see the strands of power stretching from it. Millions of shimmering, blazing power. What he felt wasn’t essence. It was something else, something otherworldly, and it moved the essence within the temple, influencing it in a way David could not comprehend. He stopped and stared, feeling awe at the artificial sun. He hadn’t thought about it before, but this was a representation of Amareth’s power. He shuddered. This was the being he was going against? His resolve shook, and he turned away to follow the priest.

“There is Gealica,” The priest said, pointing at the statue of a huge beast. It had eyes all over its face, axe gripped in two of his four hands. One held something like a scroll and the last pointed, like the others, at the light. Gaelica looked like a demon. His skin was black, rough with scars–some of them wept–but there was fire in his eyes. His carved face carried reverence as he looked toward the light.

“He was one of the Caelians that followed our lord before his ascension. He was called the Axe of Divinity.” The priest sounded proud and David could understand. He turned to what looked like a dead tree and pointed. They were close enough to the others now that he could see some of their faces. The priest tapped his shoulder excitedly.

“You have good eyes!” His grin was wild now as if David had seen through some kind of hidden veil. “That is the god-fruit. Our scriptures speak of it. One grown from the origin of our Lord Amareth.” He shook his head sadly.

“No one had seen the god fruit in all the years since the ascension era. But in the words of our Lord, those who eat a bit of the god fruit can ascend. They will become heralds of Lord Amareth, enjoying true immortality and the attention of our benevolent god.”

“Hagan, don’t wear the boy down with your stories,” An older priest said as they got closer. His silver robe was edged with dull gold, and his collar was stitched with runes. Their power shrouded him in a haze of golden light. His eyes burned brilliantly. He settled those eyes on David as though to weigh and appraise him. David held his stare, not out of stubbornness, but curiosity. Two other priests flanked him, all dressed like Hagan, but with swords strapped to their waists. Behind them were eight hooded figures in black robes. On their breasts was the same symbol mounted on the far wall behind the hanging altar– a burning sun, red and majestic atop a sharp-peaked mountain. It spun slowly on the wall. Some kind of enchantment, David assumed. He couldn’t see the weapons on the black robe, but he knew they were there.

“I am Elder Gus, Chosen,” The older priest said. The golden haze shimmered and the glow in his eyes faded, leaving behind dull brown, like wet mud. He muttered something and nodded. “We have been waiting for you. You are one of Amareth’s Chosen, his champions. Your siblings were supposed to come here.”

David nodded. “I intend to bring them once they’ve been set free,” David said. The other priests looked younger than Hagan and Gus. Their hands collapsed behind them and their eyes to the floor, they might as well be guards. David wondered why they had swords themselves. He couldn’t sense anything from the black robes, but Frank had mentioned how easy it was for exceptionally strong people to veil their powers to lure in prey.

“What am I to do?” David asked. Gus gestured for him to follow as the eight black robes spread into a crescent at the base of the steps that led up to the altar. In a space completely suffused in light, they seem to resist it. Around them, light curved outward, as if avoiding their robes. David spared them a glance, just enough to see the silver mask underneath the robes. Then he was led up, toward the altar that stretched like a white tongue above an extremely blue pool.

In it, David saw his reflection and he couldn’t recognize the man looking back at him. His skin was clear as new, his hair was long and tied back, and the sharp angles of his face made him look mildly dangerous. He stretched his hand out, marveling at how much he’d changed and yet was the same. He had known the tower modified them, but he hadn’t given a thought to how much.

“Our Lord remakes us for his vision,” Gus said. Without the strange power covering him, he sounded like he looked. He looked weathered, time had pulled him through many things and perhaps so had his time in servitude. He smiled at David and stepped back—all four of them.

Hagan smiled from where he stood behind the elder. His eyes crinkled, and he gave David a supportive nod.

“This is the pool of Amtaz,” Gus said as though reciting the words from an invisible scroll. “It is the life essence of an entity that has merged with the tree of existence. It carries the knowledge hidden within us, locked away in our souls. It will show you what you need to know to gain the insight that will serve you. If you fail the trial Amtaz, you will forever dwell in the life tree, your spirit nourishing the millions of enlightened entities within it.”

“Do not fail,” the priests behind Gus said together. “Amareth bless you.”

They waited, watching him keenly. That silence returned. It pressed on David, urging him to slip into the pool.

“You will have to strip if you plan to soak in it, or you take a sip of it,” Hagan said. Gus lowered himself to his knees, his eyes closed and hands clasped together. The priests joined him and then the black robes too. Hagan lingered a moment to give David a nod before joining the others. They prayed quietly and David contemplated what to do. The decision came to him quickly. Leaving his clothes in a heap before the pool, he leaped into the pool.

The heat stunned him. It burned straight to his core as if he’d jumped into a river of lava. He howled and the water rushed down his throat, razing everything it touched. He opened his eyes and immediately closed them, but it was too late. The light he saw stole his sight.

Stop fighting it! Ignis’s growl echoed in David’s mind but he couldn’t stop, he moved frantically, trying to reach for the edge of the pool. But there was no end to it, his skin peeled off, sliding off his bones as he waded through the water. He should have known, he’d been careless. Hagan, this was Hagan’s doing. But why? He’d fought for Amareth so far, done all the tasks. Was the tower god moving against him already? Or was the temple corrupt? The pain filled his mind with dread, pushing Ignis’ words to the edge of his consciousness. He’d fallen for their tricks. How foolish he was, letting them guide him to his death. His heart broke for his siblings. They’d die thinking he was coming for them. Rage built in him and fizzled.

His body ached, the pain was alive in him, snaking through every vein. He couldn’t scream, and he was stuck in the belly of the pool. There had to be something he could do. No, he realized. He was getting weak. That was strange, but he felt the exhaustion deeply, and he hadn’t even been swimming for five minutes. There was something about the water.

It’s not water, you moron! Calm down and let the water soak into you. Good, breathe in, you will see what I mean.

David did. It was difficult, but he tried. Slowly, at first. His thoughts were moving rapidly. He tried to convince himself that he was not in water. Under him was a bottomless void. He stared at it, a thought unwrapping in his mind. He could have used the Left Hand of Chaos to soothe his fears. Ignis snored and David grinned too. He stopped moving completely and realized he wasn’t sinking. He stayed still in the middle of the abyss.

He still felt the searing pain, but it was dull now, like a memory. He lifted one hand and saw something dark ooze out of his skin.

It is purifying you, cleansing the impurities you have accumulated from using essence recklessly. Amtaz is a scholar. It was a wandering spirit before it ascended and became a named entity. No one knows how it merged with the life tree. Some speculate that the tree invites you after you have attained enlightenment. Others believe he searched for it, aiming to gain all knowledge that ever existed, that exists and will ever come. The life tree has a direct link to our general existence anyway.

“Does that mean I am connected to the tree right now?” David asked. That would be helpful. He could feel power, something a lot more complex than essence. It felt old.

No. You can’t touch a fragment of the life tree. You would pop into nothing. You are connected to a piece of Amataz’s external consciousness. It will pu—-

David sank. It was more like being pulled away, leaving his body behind as he followed a billion streaks of light into an unknown darkness. They all pierced the darkness, pushing through the opaque black.

“You carry the father of dragons,” a voice said, filling David’s soul as he sauntered into a world of colors–liquid and squirming. All things merged into one huge color bleed. He could see the outlines of shapes blinking in and out of existence. They flickered until he thought he’d die and it suddenly vanished.

“Sorry,” the voice called, drawing closer. “My aura does that. It is difficult to control without an actual conduit.”

“Amtaz?”David asked, turning around to find the source of the voice. With the colors gone, he was standing on solid black. The voice chuckled.

“They still call me that,” he said, his voice wistful. “I haven’t heard that in so long, it feels like a song from a legend gone. Forgive me, now, about your insight. You have gone quite the way, child. Your mantle is incomplete, but I can help with that.”

David felt a chill as something reached into him. It filled him with warmth, and that grew as the pressure mounted.

“Let’s see how strong your will is, shall we?” Amtaz asked. The pressure increased and the warmth became blistering hot as a mountain’s weight dropped on David. He groaned, pushing against it with all he could muster. Amtaz cackled, his voice violent against David’s spirit. He felt sliced everywhere, his bone ached and his head vibrated with pain. Still, the pressure grew.

“You can stop me when you want,” Amtaz called, his voice seeding into the echo of torture David had slipped into. “The suffering is only to measure the weight your spirit can take. Your test is to know your lim—”

“More,” David groaned. His head exploded as silver light flickered behind his eyelids. A voice told him he’d reached his limit. He could give up now. Amtaz’s laughter was a mix of sounds now. Felt himself crack under the spirit’s force. There, in the silence of his demise, David wished he could have power like this. Something so endless, he wouldn’t have to suffer to protect his sibling.

“Will you die, or will you reach into your existence to manifes…. whoa!”

Something flickered. It shone for all of a moment and vanished. Amtaz laughed, a child tickled mercilessly.

“Do you see it, boy? Do you see what I see?”

David saw nothing. Not anymore. Only the unending voice that called on him. He hadn’t grasped it yet, but he would. Or he’d die trying.

“We can help you,” those familiar voices said. They gambled between themselves and a tear appeared, the darkness was sliced clean and Chaos pushed his head out. He wore a different face, but David could tell it was him.

“You look like you are about to die, human.”

“That’s because he is,” another voice said, this time, separate from the others like Chaos. “We shouldn’t let him.”