Kaer stood at the heart of a towering spire—the domain of the mage scholar Oyosinna, a woman shrouded in mystery and quiet wisdom.
The tower rose toward the heavens, an entire universe of arcane knowledge hidden behind ancient stone walls that kept prying eyes away from the secrets within.
Inside, shelves stretched endlessly, filled with manuscripts and books worn by time. Some were written in languages still spoken. Others belonged to tongues long forgotten.
The first shelf was devoted to magic—ancient, leather-bound volumes containing incantations and spells.
The second held the history of the world—chronicles of forgotten wars, the rise and fall of empires.
Between them lay alchemical treatises, scrolls on the origin of the world, and countless other forbidden subjects.
Oyosinna's voice broke the silence—calm, measured, almost reverent.
"I have read these books," she said. "They were written by gods… in the language of gods."
Kaer stared at her, eyes wide.
"Kaer," she continued, "you see yourself as an archer. And you are—skilled with bow and blade, forged through years of discipline. But there is something else within you. A calling. A form of magic that will reshape you into what this world needs."
She stepped closer.
"To survive what is coming… you must become more than a warrior."
Kaer listened in silence. Confused—but he trusted her. She had saved his life.
Oyosinna raised her hand and revealed three scrolls.
"These will vanish once you learn them," she said, placing them in his hands.
"The first—Summoning. You will call forth ancestral wolves to fight at your side."
"The second—Teleporter. A rare talent. You will move instantly between locations, bending space… and time."
"The third—the Map of Worlds. It will reveal paths to places that should not exist."
She paused, then handed him a book.
"Instead of treasure, I give you this. The *Chronicles of the Hero*. A simple name… for something beyond value."
Her gaze sharpened.
"And within you, something else will awaken. Your greatest ability."
A whisper.
"Mind Control."
Kaer swallowed.
"Who are you, Oyosinna?" he asked. "And how did I end up here?"
A faint smile touched her lips.
"You may call me your friend… your teacher… your master."
A pause.
"With enough imagination, perhaps even your guardian angel."
She turned away slightly.
"Or simply… the one who saved you when you were about to die."
Kaer stepped forward.
"What should I do?"
"There is no need to rush," she replied. "Events will unfold on their own. You will either discover the strangest things… or they will find you."
Her voice grew colder.
"For now, study. You are strong—but not enough. You will face enemies beyond your imagination… like the demons that destroyed your home."
Kaer's expression darkened.
"What do you know about them?"
"Very little—for now," she admitted. "They belong to a race called *Natorhog*. Their leader is named Garrmud."
She exhaled slowly.
"Their attack was… unexpected. Creatures rarely unite. Not like that."
Her eyes met his.
"What you saw was only the beginning."
A silence followed.
Strange. Heavy.
"I want to ask something personal," Kaer said.
"Yes."
"My… Aspera. Do you know anything about her?"
Oyosinna's expression softened.
"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I don't."
---
Time lost meaning inside the tower.
Kaer studied relentlessly, consumed by everything Oyosinna taught him. Days blurred into nights—then into something beyond both.
At some point, she spoke of another matter.
"The most skilled alchemist has vanished," she said. "Her name is Salvianna. She ventured too close to the Neemist Forest in search of rare herbs."
She turned toward him.
"You will find her."
---
The night before his departure—
Oyosinna entered Kaer's chamber.
Her steps were soft. Uncertain.
Her golden-blonde hair fell freely over her shoulders. There was something different about her presence—something fragile beneath the strength.
She sat on the edge of his bed.
Her hand touched his forehead.
"I felt something recently," she whispered. "A surge… an energy."
Her fingers traced slowly downward.
"I felt your desire."
Kaer tried to rise—
Her palm pressed against his chest, stopping him.
"Stay," she said softly. "Like this."
Her touch sent a wave through him.
Warm. Disarming.
He felt himself yielding, losing control under the gentleness of her movements.
She smiled faintly as she sensed his reaction.
Slow. Deliberate.
Closer.
Their bodies met, and the distance between them vanished. Breath turned uneven. Movement turned instinctive.
Time dissolved.
For a moment—
there was no tower. No war. No past.
Only sensation. Only presence.
Only her.
---
They lay beside each other in silence afterward.
Kaer's hand moved across her skin. She turned toward him, her breath soft.
"I don't know if we will meet again," she said.
His expression tightened.
"Why?"
"This place…" she whispered, "is the Tower of Worlds."
Her fingers brushed his.
"You came here because you died… in a certain way."
A pause.
"You cannot return here by will. And I cannot leave… except in forms you may not understand."
She looked into his eyes.
"The scrolls I gave you—they are essential. You will experience things that may feel like nightmares."
Her voice softened.
"They are not."
Another pause.
"Sometimes… I will speak to you through symbols."
A faint smile.
"You will have to understand them."