We approached the set of closed double doors, which reached more than fifteen feet overhead, with our weapons held at the ready in off-chance something decided to rush out. Dutch and Jax were staked well behind our position, back near the corner of the structure, and were happily munching on three fresh bales of hay. While nothing had shown itself in the few minutes it took to finalize our gains from our last victory, one could never be too careful. An ambush could come at any time, after all. The seemingly invulnerable hunks of obsidian marked the only way into Cicero’s spire we could find and were a shade lighter than the rest of the jet-black foundation. The doors were more akin to gun-metal gray and we soon discovered it was due to a heavier concentration of the gray swirls we spotted only after coming within a few feet of the dark obsidian. Swaths of gray eddies were so numerous I was curious if it was a different type of material altogether.
A glint of white against the blackness at the base of the remarkable structure caught my attention so I brought our slow advance to a halt to investigate the oddity. Bending low, hundreds of foot-high runic glyphs ran the gamut to our left and right, seeming to go on unendingly. The unknown hieroglyphs were carved just above where dark marble met dry soil and, after a brief jaunt back the way we came, confirmed the markings circled the entire foundation. The only reason I had noticed the arcane calligraphy was thanks to the fine particles of sand wedged into the thousands of tiny crevices and ledges carved into the inky surface. The starkness of the pristine white grains of sand had me wondering why we hadn’t noticed it earlier.
Stella floated beside me as I bent low in an attempt to work out the purpose of the various symbols finely etched into black marble. Drawing upon the broad range of arcane knowledge granted by the System and each newly acquired spell, I believed I had a good understanding of what was scrawled in stone. It had something to do with summoning.
“They remind me a lot of the mental formula and spell weave which binds Ripley to me as my minion,” I commented while running a finger across a particular section etched into the marble. “See these? This group of characters, here? Unless I miss my guess, these create a similar form of bonding, though I can’t imagine why Cicero would have carved them into such a structure. With Ripley, similar glyphs created by my spell form never actually see the light of day. Here, it’s as if whatever was summoned was not bound to a person, but directly to this structure.”
“I think you’re right. I bet these runes make up the summoning circle mentioned in Gilgamesh’s description back when we first spotted him,” Stella offered with a nod of her petite head. “It’s interesting Cicero decided to carve them right into the marble as it essentially turned the obsidian foundation into something akin to a giant totem. These runes are lifeless now, but that’s no surprise since we killed the bound creature. I’d be curious if Cicero plans to reuse them at some point, though I doubt we’re going to allow him the opportunity to do so.”
Chalking up the riddle as something to ponder another day, I motioned for us to continue with a sharp wave of my hand. Stepping within feet of the tall double doors, the massive slabs swung soundlessly inward as if on their own accord. The sudden movement brought us to a skidding halt, and for a moment, I expected something was about to rush out to attack. Nothing did and no sound escaped from around the opening. Peeking inside with the words of a spell ready on my lips, only a long dark corridor at least thirty feet deep welcomed us. No lights shone within and with the fading light from behind us swiftly receding, nothing else could be made out.
I was about to take a step inside when another oddity presented itself. An abrupt gust of wind from behind threatened to throw me off balance and, at the same time, kicked up a fair bit of sand into the air. However, not so much as a single grain crossed the threshold of where the doors had been as if some invisible boundary was keeping the sands outside. Catching myself quickly, I narrowed my eyes in contemplation before kicking some of the loose sand at my feet inside. Like with the wind, not a single grain carried inside and instead seemed to stop as if hitting an invisible pan of glass. I pointedly made sure no part of me crossed over the threshold, fearful of an invisible trap of some kind was at work here.
“Is it warded?” I asked, unsure of how to proceed. With an unhelpful shrug from both Stella and Tallos, I let out a long sigh as we contemplated what to do. “It seems odd the doors would be keyed to open whenever someone got close, only for the entrance itself to be trapped in some way. Massive doors opening on their own would certainly put any unwelcomed visitor immediately on guard, so I’m betting there is something else afoot here.”
“Maybe Cicero doesn’t like sand?” Tallos finally commented as my eyes ran up and down the doorframe. “It would seem a bit hypocritical of him, considering his actions turned everything around for miles into this desert.”
“Only one way to find out,” I remarked before waving my friends back a few paces in case the trap, if there was one, was explosive. Feeling a presence at my back, I turned to see Ripley standing right behind me, her shield held at the ready and ready to spring forward in my defense. It brought a smile to my lips. With our recent soul bond ability, we were both stronger for it. Looking past her, everyone else, other than Lowki who looked ready to pounce on her own, braced with their backs against the cold stone.
Pulling an unremarkable iron dagger from my inventory, it was sent spinning around the corner with an overly exaggerated sidearm throw. Immediately after releasing the weapon, I pressed against the jet-black marble. Other than the dagger clinking off the inner wall and then skittering down the hallway, nothing else happened. Unbracing, I peered ahead as Stella flew before us and peered inside. As an Accelerator, she was nearly indestructible as far as I recalled, so she should be in any real danger. She made a show of peering inside the structure before flittering in and out of where the invisible barrier should be. With a shrug of her shoulders, she turned back to us.
“Looks safe,” she offered before returning to her position across my shoulder. “The barrier seems designed to simply keep the dirt and grime out.”
Pushing the few minutes lost from the fruitless examination from my mind, we didn’t hesitate any longer before stepping fully into the dark hallway. Once inside, the first thing we noticed was the high ceiling overhead at the same height as the gray doors. Next, we were brought up short at the sudden and unexpected pervasive silence on the passageway. Not the slightest whisper of the blowing winds from outside seemed to be able to pass through the invisible barrier. Peering ahead, we could make out a pale green glow from the far end of the foyer, some eighty or ninety feet away and likely on the opposite end of the spire’s foundation.
Running a hand across the dark walls, we found them as smooth as glass, like the outside, without the slightest imperfection. Summoning a fireball in a palm to generate some light, we discovered none of the runes lining the outside made their way inside. With a thought, I let go of the brief gathering of mana churning in my palm and let it fade into nothingness. With no danger present, we crept low and down the hallway with my newly upgraded Covert Stealth on full display as not even the slightest whisper betrayed our passage.
We were perhaps fifteen feet inside when the corridor grew darker as if we were suddenly plunged into midnight. Motioning Ripley ahead to cover in case anything took the opportunity to attack, I silently retreated back to Tallos to see what had happened. It was not hard to figure out. Unfortunately, when we got out of whatever range the doors had, the hunks of marble closed behind us, effectively sealing us inside. We began collectively turning on our Darkvision, but it proved unnecessary a moment later when dozens of unseen lights flared to life overhead and bathed our surroundings in silvery light. With Tallos’ aid, we inspected where the doors should have been but found only solid obsidian, as if the doors had never been there.
“I don’t see any way of getting it open,” Tallos whispered with a twinge of anxiety. Together, we spent the next few minutes futilely searching for a hidden trigger or latch but without any success. The doors were sealed tight, and unless we wanted to attempt to break what I suspected was an extraordinarily sturdy material, we were effectively trapped.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Alright, only one way forward,” I mutter under my breath. With nothing for it, I returned to Ripley’s side.
With the ample glow from the distant lights overhead, the long hallway didn’t seem as foreboding as before when it was shrouded in darkness. Twenty feet later, we encountered a set of doors on either side of the corridor. Both were identical in appearance and, unlike the tower's main double doors, were only half as tall. Not yet turning either round door knob, I carefully pressed an ear against the cool marble to see if I could detect the sound of anything within. Nothing. Moving to the other door, again I found nothing. Not so much as even a faint whisper of sound could be heard beyond. Slowly opening the first door, inside appeared to be some kind of empty waiting area completed with stained tables and matching cushioned chairs.
Finding nothing of interest, we found a mirror copy of the previous room on the other side of the hall. Unless we wanted to take a few tables and chairs, our quick examination of the rooms felt like wasted time. Closing the doors behind us, we continued our slow march down the foyer. The hallway opened up into a wide room suffused with emerald light and was barren except for a jet-black spiral staircase in the center of the room. It was approximately fifteen feet in diameter and reached all the way up to the distant ceiling overhead. Making our way cautiously into the room, we were finally able to identify where the jade light was coming from. It was as I suspected. Connected at the very top was an opening into the base of the emerald spire. Dazzling light sparkled up above, seeming to invite us to explore its crystalline heights.
After a brief inspection and nothing else inside presenting itself, we crept forward while remaining on guard for any potential traps. The marble steps were perfectly smooth like everything else and I first feared we might slip and fall down the stairs. Yet, while smooth to the touch of a finger, every step had a quality that felt like we were treading across marble sandpaper. Even with our sure footing, we moved slowly as I feared hitting some hidden pressure plate that would cause the stairs to flatten and send us tumbling back down. My trepidation proved unfounded, and we made our way higher uneventfully. Still, it was important to avoid falling into a false sense of security, so I kept on high alert.
Reaching the top, obsidian marble swiftly transitioned into thick crystalline emerald. The emerald was partially translucent which allowed the setting sun to bath us in warm and benevolent verdant light. Combined with a flood of every color imaginable from the diverse stained-glass windows, the effect created a truly welcoming invitation for us to proceed higher. Unlike the obsidian staircase which tightly wound around itself, the emerald stairs leading up hugged against the outer crystalline wall and traveled counter-clockwise. Though the inner wall was completely opaque, there was likely plenty of space within the center of the spire for the rooms we would undoubtedly soon discover.
While we couldn’t see inside the emerald spire as of yet, the outer wall was far more translucent allowing us to see far across the vast desert outside. After trekking some sixty or seventy stairs later, we came across the first of the many predicted gemstone doorways I suspected we would find. Again, warry of encountering an enemy inside, we paused long enough for me to press an ear against the glassy material to hear of any sign someone was inside. After fifteen seconds of nothingness, it was easy to determine either no sound could pass through the crystalline barrier or no one was inside. With no apparent door knob, and after confirming everyone was ready, I slowly pushed the door open.
It swung inward without sound or resistance, though I half expected to hear glass scratching across glass. What could best be described as a mechanical room opened before us. Thankfully, no monsters lingered within. With a vaulted ceiling well over fifty feet above us, the room was dominated by four ten-foot cube-shaped mechanical devices absolutely decorated in intricate rune work. One of each was wedged up against the north, east, south, and west walls respectfully. Surprisingly similar to the runes we discovered at the spire's base, these too seemed inert with no sign of powering up.
“I think these bulky devices are what allowed the spire to hover before Gilgamesh’s death deactivated the lot of them,” Stella murmured, careful to keep her voice low even though the sound didn’t seem to carry well within the spire’s confines. The muffled sound was an interesting quirk, for sure, but I chalked it up as possibly something innate with the particular type of emerald used in the spire’s construction.
“Should we see if we can, I don’t know, damage them so they don’t power back up?” I queried, though was fully uncertain we’d be able to so much as scratch the impervious crystal.
“I doubt we have anything that could manage it,” Stella answered. “But, if you want to try, you’ll probably be safe too. I would suggest we shut the door behind us if you want to keep the ruckus from reverberating to a higher level.”
Walking close to one of the massive cubes, I pressed Frostrend’s keen edge heavily against the glassy surface before drawing downward with considerable force. It didn’t leave a scratch. “I don’t think it’s worth potentially signaling our presence to anyone above. Let’s keep going.”
“Before we do, I’ve been thinking. I think we should use our last lesser upgrade orb,” Stella offered as I turned to leave the room. Her words pulled me up short. “You currently only have two disease-based DoTs. One is your new devouring plague, and the other is a lesser arrested affliction. With the benefits from your lich spell, I think we should upgrade Arrested to average tier. Not only will the damage bump from the higher tier, but it will synergize well with the damage enhancement and life drain provided by Lich.”
It was good advice, and I wholeheartedly agreed with Stella’s suggestion before swiftly upgrading my only other disease-based spell to average-tier. It was sad we would only have a pair of minor orbs left in my inventory, which boosted a minor spell to a lesser version, but perhaps we could purchase more when we teleported back to Quarris. I asked Stella to remind me of it when we finally got back there.
Moving on and after traversing another sixty stairs, we found the next room with nearly the same dimensions as the engine room below. This room was slightly smaller because Cicero’s spire tapered as it grew higher. This room appeared to be a simple guest room but was decked out in extravagant-looking furniture. From a luxurious bed to an antique roll-top desk, multiple body-length mirrors, and lofty wardrobes, the place seemed fit for a visiting noble. With a knowing side-long glance at Stella, I ‘appropriated’ the bed, as well as the immaculate wooden desk for myself. I couldn’t take everything, of course. My bag of holding only had so much storage space, after all.
The next highest room opened into a grand garden containing hundreds of exotic plants, herbs, flowers, and flora. Stepping into the room was like stepping into a rainforest. The air was hot and humid, but not uncomfortably so. A spectacular mix of aromas permeating every inch was breathtakingly beautiful. My heart was filled with joyous zeal from the majesty of the life surrounding us. Butterflies of every size and color fluttered from flower to flower, as did other tiny insects and an enormous beehive near the ceiling. It was hard to imagine Cicero, with all his cruelty and profane creations, could truly appreciate such a celebration of life as this remarkable garden. It seemed antithetical to his wicked profession.
“I could spend weeks in here,” Tallos breathed appreciatively as he knelt next to a blooming flower of differing shades of amber and peach. “Some of these plants are exceedingly rare. Can I collect a few? It won’t take too long.”
“Sure, we can spend at least a few minutes in here. I really don’t want to leave myself. Do you know which are the most valuable or have beneficial effects?” I asked, clueless of what was what among the thousands of plant life present, let alone which were the rarest.
“I know a few, at least,” Tallos marveled as he deftly began extracting a few. “Give me… ten minutes?”
While the ranger worked, Ripley and I moved against either side of the lone entrance into the garden where we stood watch. Nothing approached, and soon enough, we were moving higher up the spire. The fourth room we found looked like all the others from the outside, but after pushing open the door, we found something altogether different. Stacked against the outer walls, as well as around a thick middle column, were hundreds of bookshelves vaulting well overhead.
Countless books, some as thin as an inch while others were more than a foot thick, lined nearly every available shelf. The sheer number of books crammed into this library was astonishing. Complete with a lone fireplace against the far wall, dozens of comfortable-looking chairs, and stained tables throughout, the library had an inviting atmosphere where you could quickly lose yourself in the untold number of stories contained within. Better still, by the look of a few, some of the tomes were likely magical in nature based on the visible aura surrounding them. My pulse quickened at the thought of vastly expanding my available spell list.
Sadly, the moment my thrilled fingertip lightly caressed one such book, multiple inhuman groans reverberated throughout the room. Something was awakening. The noise came from the four cardinal directions and I whirled to make out the potential threat. Where before stood several unimposing columns of emerald, something else entirely was walking toward us. My heart pounded faster as I realized we were surrounded.
