Before reading Tower, check out Runite here. Or start at the beginning, here.
The boy felt like a prisoner. The Runites had escorted him and the giant back to their camp in complete silence. It was a castle, or likely had been in the distance past. All that remained was a tower.
The barrier walls, that had likely formed a large rectangular defense was mostly crumbled. The single cylindrical tower stood at the center of the ruins, adorn with a large green-field banner and similarly colored flags atop the battlements. Their path led directly to the massive wooden doors at its base.
“At one time,” the giant said to the boy, “this was the mightiest castle in this realm. That was a very long time ago however.”
“Before the wyrms,” said one of the barrel-chested Runite men.
“Wyrms?!” exclaimed the boy. “You expect me to believe there are dragons out there attacking people?”
“Yes, lad. Well. It’s been a very long time since any wyrms concerned themselves with mortal lives.”
“This is ridiculous,” the boy said, shaking his head. “Lets just get this over with. Help your people if you must, but I have to help my sister.”
“The Runites are no longer my people. And I already promised to help your sister, lad.”
The boy had heard many promises in his life. Seventeen years. His sister was the only one to ever keep a promise. Now he had no idea where she was but he promised himself that he would see her again.
The Runites led the boy and the giant into the large tower. The ground level was crowded. A disjointed chorus of voices filled the air with numerous conversations. However, the room grew quieter as the group crossed to the staircase that spiraled up along the curved outside wall of the tower.
Most of the people bowed their heads respectively to Father. Others looked knowingly, yet confused, upon the giant. Many, however, glared at the boy as the outsider he most certainly was.
“They don’t even know me, yet they look at me with such… hatred.” The word didn’t feel right to the boy but he couldn’t find a better word. “Why?” he whispered to the giant.
“You are not a Runite, lad. They do not hate you. What you are about to see is likely a secret known only to Father.”
The boy started to ask another question but the giant shook his head. They followed the group, in silence again, up the spiral staircase. At the top of the tower, Father unlocked the massive door with a strange key. He did not open the door. Instead, he turned to the boy.
“You will get answers. For now, however, we ask that you keep your questions to yourself.”
The boy nodded, without a word, to Father.
Father opened the door, producing an ominous creak. The group entered a very large–too large–rectangular room. How is it this big? The boys mind exploded with questions but he bit his tongue, urging himself to remain silent. How is it square? His eyes darted around the impossible room. What is this place?
Almost every surface was covered in mirrors of various sizes and decor. Why are they all cracked? Each mirror had a unique symbol drawn on it’s fractured surface. Except one. At the far end of the room stood a rectangular mirror, taller than the giant, with a smooth surface. Why aren’t we in the reflection?