by Ian Rodgers
“Now hold on! Just because I don’t need to eat doesn’t mean I can’t. And for your information, I do have the ability to taste things! Though food without magic is rather bland to my palate.”
“You can taste magic?” she asked, surprised and curious.
“I can,” I stated proudly. I was glad I’d managed to get her out of her shell, even if only for a short while. “Healing potions taste like strawberries!”
“They do,” Dora agreed. “Shame the Alchemist’s Circle hasn’t found a way to make other kinds of potions taste better. Hence why I prefer to make pills instead of potions. Easier to swallow one of those down than it is trying to gag through a slimy liquid that smells of cabbage and tastes like overcooked noodles.”
“Oh? Sounds like you’re something of an alchemist yourself,” I noted. “And that you’re as unimpressed with the taste of Stamina potions as I am.”
“I’ve dabbled,” she said modestly, and I smiled to myself, happy to have found some common ground.
“Me too! It started as a hobby more than anything else, but when I was wandering around on my own, selling my potions was a great way to get money.”
We continued to chat as we flew, discussing the different kinds of potions we’d made, and our personal experiments. When I mentioned I had a first edition copy of the legendary and infamous Edelhart Grimoire, she got excited and asked to borrow it.
“Of course! I’ll get it out for you when we land,” I promised her. At the mention of finally taking a break, Dora began to look around the surroundings for a potential spot to pull over.
“You know, for a realm of peace and good and all that, it’s sort of depressing,” Dora noted. “I mean, I’m not really one to talk, but even in the Cracked Land, at least there was occasionally something interesting to look at. Odd rock formations, shattered ruins, curious monsters…”
“Oh, so you lived in the Dreadlands?” I inquired, intrigued. Asking that was the wrong action, sadly, as she immediately clammed up.
“Erk, ah, sorry,” I choked out, embarrassed by my mistake. “I guess you wouldn’t want to remember any time in that place. From what I’ve read, that region of Erafore is a real Hell hole.”
After a moment she let out a sigh and shook her head. “It’s fine. Just… I still haven’t come to terms with everything that’s happened to me. Just a few months ago I was a nobody in the Cracked Land. Now, I’m supposed to become a hero? A Chosen One, at that?”
“I completely understand how you feel,” I agreed, thinking back on my past. “I was content with a simple life. I didn’t want much, just a way to protect the people I cared about. Now here I am, lost in the Aether, preparing to fight against the Void for the future of Erafore.”
Dora merely nodded at my words, but kept silent. I, too, returned my attention to soaring through the Plane of Light, pushing on toward the first of the landmarks that would lead us to the Hospice.
After another hour of flying, I spotted something in the distance that made me groan in defeat.
“Hey, Dora, I’m glad I didn’t try to bet against you earlier,” I said, and she perked up, looking in the direction I was. A laugh bubbled out of her and she began to cackle wildly.
“I can’t believe I was right!” she giggled once she got most of the mirth out of her system.
“In a way, I’m not,” I replied. Up ahead was what could only be the so-called Tower of Light. It resembled a stereotypical lighthouse, only scaled up to absurd proportions. The building was easily a thousand times bigger than any other lighthouse or tower I’d ever seen!
“Reminds me of the towers in Annod Bol,” Dora mused, staring at the object. “I wonder if it too was constructed by the Titans?”
“That’d be something to ask the people who live in it,” I said as I began to fly towards it. Interestingly, the Tower of Light did not appear to be built on one of the many golden discs that filled Luminoth. There was a wide platform attached to the Tower of Light that from the looks of things was acting as a landing pad. It connected to a large staircase leading up to the massive front gates of the building.
Said gates were slightly ajar, and admitting a steady stream of visitors.
“Do we just… land?” Dora asked as we approached.
“I don’t see any reason why we couldn’t,” I replied. There were no barriers or magical wards set up, nor were there any guards. At least, none that’d be a problem. Not to mention, I had no idea what this place was used for here on Luminoth. Who even needs a lighthouse in a realm of infinite and endless illumination?
I was starting to feel tired, though, and wanted to take a rest. I’d been flying for hours and even if it didn’t require much mana, there was still a strain involved in keeping myself aloft and in a form Dora could ride safely. I set down on the platform, which once I had my ‘feet’ on it, I was able to tell was a single massive plank of petrified wood.
Dora hopped off of my back the moment I landed, stretching her limbs and muttering as she worked cramps out of her body.
“Ugh, next time we go flying, can we take a break ten or so hours in? I feel like my entire body has stiffened up and is just one giant aching muscle!”
“Sure, I can do that,” I agreed. “By the way, are you hungry yet? You haven’t eaten anything in hours!”
“No, and I suspect that’s due to the fact I’m a wielder of Light Magic in the Elemental Plane of Light. I’ve experienced something similar, but I’m confident this is nothing like when I was in the Abyss,” Dora replied. “I think I’m actually feeding off the energy in the air, rather than being tricked by the Miasma.”
“You went into the Abyss?!”
“Yeah, I had to in order to rescue Lady Nia’s pets. They’d been stolen by slavers and sold to the Queen Swathed in Vermillion,” the half-orc replied, her tone suggesting it’d been no big deal.
I was gobsmacked, however. “That’s! What?! HUH!?!”
The mint-green skinned Healer laughed loudly as I continued to stammer nonsensically.
“Hehehe! I’ll tell you the story sometime,” Dora sniggered. “But look lively! We’ve got people inbound!”
“I’ll hold you to it,” I murmured, shifting from a vaguely equine shape back into my preferred round form.
Approaching us were two figures. One was clearly an Archon. The crystalline, spherical form with six square halos orbiting its body was a dead giveaway to its identity. Only an Archon would bother to look so geometrical.
The other individual that was drawing closer was an orange-scaled reptilian lifeform. The lower half was like that of a serpentine creature. The upper half, while still very snake-like in appearance, had four long, spindly arms with three-fingered hands. There was a glint of intelligence inside the beady brown eyes of the figure, and combined with the scholarly robes it wore, this being was likely sapient.
“Welcome, guest. Are you here to take your oaths and partake in the bounty of the Tower of Light? Or are you here for another reason?” the snake-man hissed at Dora, ignoring me completely.
The half-orc just stared blankly at the greeter before glancing over at me.
“Um, did you catch what he said? It just sounded like hissing to me,” she asked.
“He asked if you were here to join the Tower, or if we stopped by for a different matter entirely,” I replied. “Just out of curiosity, how come you don’t have a translation spell or artifact on you?”
“I had a translation device, but I lost it when I was being chased across the Aether. And then there was that horrific scream that shook reality. Any blessings I had on me shattered after that,” she explained with a wince. I too couldn’t help but flinch as I was reminded of the painful screaming that had rocked across the Aether earlier.
“Ah. We’ll have to get that fixed as soon as we can,” I noted, before turning my attention over to the snake-man who’d come to greet us. “Apologies for not answering your question in a timely manner, but my companion doesn’t have any way to understan
d you at the moment.”
The well-dressed reptile jerked in surprise when it was I who answered him, not Dora whom he’d addressed earlier. He stared at me, then shifted his gaze over to the half-orc who gave him a weak grin.
“I see,” the scholar said, though his tone clearly revealed that he didn’t. “Well, then, can you explain what your business with the Tower of Light is?”
“Honestly, we just wanted a place to rest for a bit. We’ve been flying for hours through the Elemental Plane of Light on our way to the Hospice,” I explained. “Do you have beds to rent or borrow?”
“I-! Beds for-! Just on your way-!” the serpent sputtered. “You didn’t come to the Tower for any other reason other than it was convenient?”
“To be honest, neither of us know what the Tower of Light is supposed to do. We were just told that the Hospice could be found past the Tower of Light and the Field of Mirrors.”
The left eye of the snake-man twitched violently, while the Archon vibrated with what I hoped was laughter.
“They don’t seem happy,” Dora whispered to me.
“I think the Archon is laughing at his companion’s reaction,” I whispered back. “The serpent in the robes in insulted we’ve never heard of the Tower of Light before. Well, I haven’t. You?”
“Nope, never,” the half-orc replied with a shake of her head. “If it wasn’t in my theology books, I didn’t learn about it.”
“Sorry, we don’t know,” I said, wobbling a bit to simulate a shrug. The snake-man managed to calm himself after a few muttered words I politely pretended not to have heard, and then looked at us.
“If you are weary travelers, there’s nothing for you here. The Tower of Light is a scholarly institution, where we scry the threads of fate and divine the varied paths of the future. We only admit new disciples, or guests who wish to make use of our special craft.”
“Scrying… oh, are you practitioners of the mystical art of Divination?” I realized. When the scholarly serpent bobbed his head, I had an idea.
“In that case, I do wish to use the Tower for something,” I announced.
“Wait, what are you doing?” Dora asked me, confused. I held up a tendril, wordlessly asking her to wait, and returned to speaking with the duo who’d come to greet us.
“My companion and I are missing a third member. If it’s possible, could we get the Tower’s help in locating him, or at least telling us when we’ll meet up with him?”
“You? You who just admitted to not knowing what it is we do here? Why would…?”
{Of course, honored guests!} the Archon declared grandly, speaking for the first time and cutting off the words of the scholar. {Come, I shall lead you to the Fateseeker. He shall be able to help you with what you desire.}
The spherical Archon began to float away back towards the Tower of Light’s gate, and I began to roll after him, Dora hot on my trail with questions on the tip of her tongue.
“Huh? What’s going on, Eye-That-Pierces? Why are you admitting these people into the Tower and the Fateseeker’s office without a proper background check?!” the snake-man protested, bewildered as to why we were being let in so abruptly.
The Archon paused and tilted slightly, mimicking a cocked head. {Can you not see? Are you not a disciple of the Tower? If you cannot, then I suppose you should busy yourself with some more training.}
The robe clad serpent sputtered indignantly, which came out as furious hissing. Dora held back a snicker at the sound.
“He sounds like a tea kettle!” she muttered in between giggles.
{Welcome to the Tower of Light, Chosen Ones,} the Archon announced as we reached the stairs and stared up at the entrance’s large gates. {I shall be your guide. Please, do not lose sight of me, or wander off. There are many magical tools that are delicate, as well as places where Time and Space are dangerously unstable.}
“Dangerously unstable how?” I couldn’t help but ask warily, and the Archon let out a vibrating hum.
{One point nine million years ago, a disciple made several major mistakes in a row with a potent future sight ritual. Now, the room where the ritual was cast is cordoned off due to a catastrophic time dilation within. A second inside that room is the equivalent to seventy years outside of it. Trying to escape intact and without major health or age issues is rarely possible for lifeforms with less than a thousand-year lifespan.}
“Oh,” I replied simply, while Dora winced at the thought of crumbling to naught but dust in mere moments without a chance to do anything about it.
We continued on in awkward silence, Dora and I doing our best to ignore the tenseness by examining the interior of the Tower of Light.
A massive, well-lit atrium dominated the center of the first floor, and continued up far into the ceiling. Along the walls, the other levels of the circular Tower were connected to each other by winding staircases, crisscrossing walkways, and what looked like teleportation booths, where one person would step inside and disappear in a flash of light, only to reappear somewhere else an instant later.
And then there was the décor. From the outside, the Tower of Light was rather plain looking. Inside, however, it was a great deal more ornate. The floor was lined with tiles of crystal, while the walls were made from whitewashed wood and stone. Masterfully woven tapestries depicting monumental occasions the Tower had assisted with lined the walls and hung from the sides of the walkways, while trophy cases sat at important intersections, relics of ancient wars and events cataloged behind enchanted glass. There were countless rooms as well, some of them lecture halls, others were magically shielded practice rooms to help beginners learn to control the temperamental Divination spells and rituals the rest of the disciples used.
It reminded me of the Royal Varian Mage’s Academy, but one dedicated to a single branch of magic rather than teaching, exploring and researching all of them as the Academy did. The thought of the venerable institution made me long for my owner, Princess Liliana, and her friends there. I even found myself missing Arnolt Cantos, the miserly headmaster of the school, and my personal mentor for a significant portion of my studies there.
Ever since entering the Aether, though, I could no longer communicate with them. In the past, I used a mindless clone of myself I’d created, and would put my mind into it if I wanted to talk to my owner even while we were continents away. My link to the fake Ooze back on Erafore wasn’t severed, but there was too much distance and interference. Trying to project my mind towards the Mortal Realms when I wasn’t sure where it was would be a good way to have it lost!
“Hey, what’s wrong, Jellik?” Dora asked, looking down at me as I rolled along beside her. She must have been more attuned to emotions than she let on, given she was able to pick up on my melancholic mood.
“Ah, nothing much, just remembering another place like this one,” I said with a wobble. “I used to attend the Royal Varian Mage’s Academy, you know, and this all reminds me of it.”
“That school for nobles to learn magic? How on Erafore did you manage to enroll there? I mean, you look…” Dora trailed off.
“Yeah, I know, I don’t look like mage material. Or even a student,” I replied, making a shrugging motion. “I got in through a loophole: they don’t care if students bring their pets to class.”
“Wait, hang on a second, did you say ‘pet?’” Dora began, but was cut off by our Archon escort.
{Please step into this teleportation array,} it requested, and a mental tickle in the back of our heads forced us to look toward where it was directing us. We’d come up to one of the teleportation booths, the runes and sigils glowing with power, ready to whisk us away to wherever we were being taken to.
“We’ll talk about this later,” she declared when it was clear we were being hurried along. She then stepped inside without any hint of fear and waited.
{Fateseeker’s Office,} the Archon declared, and in response to its telepathic order, the array activated, teleporting Dora away. In her absence, the booth was now d
evoid of energy, the magical power sapped. After waiting a few seconds, the complex mystical symbols that had previously dimmed began to glow with life once more.
Seeing that the power was returning to the array, I bounced into the booth the half-orc had previously occupied, and waited to be sent on my way.
“Any advice on what to do or say when I meet this person?” I inquired of the Archon.
{Show respect, and it will be returned in kind,} the entity replied. {But for the most part, do not worry. The Fateseeker is calm and collected, and is hard to bring to anger. Now, off you go! Fateseeker’s Office!}
And with that, I was gone. Compressed into a mote of energy smaller than molecule then hurled across time and space, I felt like I was being shoved through a tunnel made of cold mud and lukewarm porridge, while all around me a billion colors danced and spun and merged with one another, creating the weave of the Aether itself before unraveling before my gaze.
After what felt like minutes, but was in truth two or three seconds at the most, reality eventually reoriented itself as I was decompressed from an insignificant speck of energy back into my glorious and squishy self.
“I hate teleporting,” I grumbled as I tumbled from the booth. I had no idea what it was like for a human or ordinary living creature to travel via teleportation, but for me it was always uncomfortable to be rendered utterly senseless while still somehow feeling and seeing bizarre, otherworldly images.
Being more magic than living, physical matter, had its upsides – such as being able to analyze and see magic and spells as easily as breathing – but it had its downsides as well, such as struggling to get used to a three-dimensional existence again.
“Oh, dear, are you alright?” A kind old voice asked as I lay on the floor.
“Urgh, yes, I’m fine,” I replied.
“That’s excellent! And may I say, it’s a pleasure to meet such an interesting person! A talking Ooze! Never in all my life would I have imagined such a thing!”
“Yeah, that’s me, special,” I joked. Then, I increased my size to around that of a large wheel of cheese and rolled towards the voice. The room the teleportation array had taken me to greatly resembled the waiting room that had led to Headmaster Cantos’ personal office, although the available seats were more varied for the use of other species.
