The Crystal Tower

I had long sought the greatest honor in the land of Garsurka: To quest for the Crystal Tower which twinkles far in the west like a land-bound star and return with the glories which surely dwelt within it.

Many men set out for the spire. None have returned.

But, I, Sir Ardwel Carrewen, intended to be the first.

Some told tales of strong women who had been more fortunate in their journeys to the tower. Whether this meant that special, mystical protection existed for lady adventurers, no one could tell. These women kept what they had encountered a closely-guarded secret. But their sword skills upon returning were unmatched even by the greatest of men.

I acquired much glory on the field of battle in defense of my kingdom against rogue armies from the east. The House of Carrewen held many lands. But the light of the Crystal Tower always lingered on our horizon, like a jewel forever out of reach.

I had long made known my intent to my fellow noblemen. I long listened to their pleas to make peace with the glories I had so far found. But my mind had been settled on this matter.

My plans were extensive. Before even starting, I sought out a special weapon in the north, along the Ancient Forges. Deep underground, beneath long lost kingdoms, I discovered the flame blade. Forever bathed in a curling, twisting flame of enchantment, the blade was actually cool to the touch of the wielder but scorched any enemy to ash.

With this weapon in a metal scabbard lashed to my back, I felt my odds greatly improved.

I set out on a spring morning from Rastref, my ancestral home. I looked upon the craggy Rast Mountains which insulated us from the brutal Haswik Sea, rising to sodden, but still-snowy heights. When I was just a boy, I became the youngest of the Carrewen to climb to the top unassisted.

Upon my skilled horse, I crossed the soft rocks of Ardress Bridge, built by my grandfather so many years ago. Beneath the bridge, the tamed Neath River passed, full of the long boats of merchants and travelers. I had swum the entire length just a year after my mountain climb.

From the bridge, the whole of Rastref with its mountain edge lay behind me. Brave souls with woven houses clung to the bare rock like barnacles joined with strings of bridges and ladders. Vast farms with white dots of undulating sheep lay below them. Below that, I could look upon the alabaster walls of Rastenpek Castle, my home, and the vast buildings of Rastref, which were glorious jewels in their own right. Ahead lay just the guard tower and the ivory wall which held all sieges at bay.

The guards came out to watch me as I passed. Some begged me to stay.

"My lord, we need you!"

I gave them a last smile and promised I would return with glory.

The villagers of outer Rastref lined the roads to send me off. I smiled to them as village gave way to hilly grassland. I would still be in familiar territory for many miles of farms and protectorates around Rastref. I had trained on this ground with many fellow soldiers. Lower, worn grasses showed where the heavy infantry had marched time after time.

Soon, the plateau of my homeland gave way to the valleys of lush streams. The towns of Criklowe, Wrenrik, and Brynend stretched out on the tended edges of the valleys. All still friendly places where I could be guaranteed a chill drink and a warm meal simply by showing my face.

I enjoyed the libraries of Wrenrik's schools. Criklowe had the finest food of any place this side of the Haswik Sea. Brynend had entertainment like no other in the realm. But I passed all these places. I was set on my goal. I could only celebrate on my return.    

While I lost sight of the tower at times, it always returned at the crest of the next hill. I stopped occasionally to tend to my horse. I slept at evening by the side of a tree. When morning came, I followed the light of the rising sun catching the edges of the tower on the horizon.

Onward and westward, I rode. I didn't strain forth. I was in no hurry. The tower had been there for centuries. It would surely remain for me.

Winding streams gave way to rushing ones flowing from the larger plateaus. I hugged them as long as I could and crossed those flowing in my way. Dolgefon and its belching ironworks were the last familiar territory in Western Nellrast.

Beyond, I only knew of the Sorcraw Desert but that was still a ways off. Passing beyond Nellrast, I was in the unallied territories. Some were friendly. I hoped my sword would hold off the rest.

Unlike some who favored ornate, heavy armor, I'd dressed in a light, dull metal. I wasn't for elegance. I needed protection. My bow and arrows at the horse's hip would take care of meals when I needed to hunt. But that wouldn't be for several days with my supplies.

The vastness of the west lay before me as I continued day after day through the forest and around dense swamps. The banality of the journey was often my greatest enemy. I fended it off by tending to my resources and my animal diligently. And I always aimed my gaze to the horizon at sunset as the tower twinkled with the sun glowing behind it. I could tell it was bigger, though by the smallest of measures. A hopeful sign.

Wetlands soon dried and turned rocky. The slow rise of the advancing hills posed no challenge. I hunted small game in anticipation of sparser wilderness.

Eventually, we moved across bare rock devoid of all but hardy flowers and wispy weeds. The wind from the north blasted across the land, threatening to toss us into gorges at the narrow spans. Weaving across the slim bridges of rocks into even slimmer passes, I made my way to the Sorcraw Desert.

I'd only seen it before in the sketches of travelers and scouts. Its sand was faint green, a trick on those expecting grass and hope. The occasional tree provided a place to stop. The rest was harsh lime sand blasted along by the unrelenting wind. I lay a blanket across my horse and pulled a robe close around my face. I looked only in the direction of the tower through narrowed eyes.

The journey was long with blistering days and shivering nights. My horse received the worst of it. I let him drink often. The occasional oasis kept us strong. I ate only enough to keep me on my feet. Beyond the desert were lands unknown.

It took four painful days to cross the desert and the other end was just another, higher mountain range which still could not eclipse the tower. A further day of exploring led to a pleasant pass between peaks.

As we walked through, I wondered what riches lay within the tower. I did not seek to take much, only items of proof. As I rested upon my horse, I wondered upon what dresses there would be. Surely fancy ones of the finest fabric.

As I sat there, it took a moment to realize what an odd notion it was for me to fixate on dresses, of all things. Perhaps I was thinking of a gift for a noble lady? I settled on that answer and concerned myself with it no more for the journey through the pass.

On the other side, lovely trees with pretty flowers were everywhere. I hustled my horse down the slope and stopped beside a fragrant tree. I reached up to pick several blossoms. I smelled them deeply and smiled. The aroma was breathtaking.

Only after I had set the flowers aside did the strangeness of this action occur to me. I did, however, enjoy the flowers set around the castle and at parties when I was young. I cleared my throat and turned my gaze back to the tower. It filled more of the horizon than ever. I could make out details of windows in the silvery crystal.

I urged my horse onward through the expanse of blooms into low valleys which rose and fell and then vast, straight plains of grass which afforded me my best view of the tower. It was staggering. What I'd thought was the whole of it was merely a small segment near the pinnacle. It reached beyond all measure into the sky to scrape the very firmament.

As I journeyed, a strange air filled my breaths. The air was not unwelcome. It seemed to tickle at me, making random chuckles easier. A rub of my horse and I found myself laughing. I wrote off this reaction to the fresh air and giddiness at the proximity of my goal. I stopped at a stream to wash up. Cupping the water, I paused and examined my features.

My Carrewen nose wobbled in the flow of the water but what I saw of it was trimmed at both ends. It rose from my face with a sharper, and yet softer, point than I recalled. Even lingering by the stream for calm waters signaled no change in my appearance.

I also noticed that, despite my long journey through the desert without a chance to shave, I required no razor for my face. My skin was quite smooth, in fact smoother than I could recall it ever being. My only explanation was that the sandblasting had polished it like stone. My nose took more explaining. I worried about any unforeseen consequences to my sword. Perhaps there was a curse upon it which I did not know.

I lifted it from its place at my back and realized that it took more effort to hold it aloft now than when I first wielded it in training. I stopped for the rest of the day to train, so that my swing would hold back any aggressors I met at the final stage of my journey.

At night, I slept but with peculiar dreams. I imagined myself back home in Rastenpek, but I was one of the princesses of the House. I couldn't tell which but the chambers were familiar to me. They were lavishly adorned the same way. I wore a gown which sparkled in the light and smelled just like the flowers I found. Against my every notion, I delighted in the dream until waking.

And, even then, the ghosts of the experience left me with a pleasant sensation. As I bathed in the stream, I washed my dense hair, which settled on my neck at a length I'd never kept it before. I sang a little as I splashed myself. The song-like qualities of my tune were nothing like the deep baritone of old drinking songs I'd crooned. In fact, even the idea of a mug of ale turned my stomach.

Such feelings still felt peculiar but only a little. A smoldering panic told me that this was cause for great alarm, however, the cool brush of the water doused that anxiety. When I left the stream, I toweled slowly, marveling at how slender my waist had gotten on this journey. My arms and legs were also less substantial.

When I raised my burning sword that day, I could hold it as well as when I first found it. And I could swing it with even greater speed. This improvement quelled the other worries.

After a light breakfast and leaning back to enjoy the grass and breeze, I rode on. My gaze only met the tower from time to time. I took in the rest of the scenery. I gazed at distant hills to the north where rainbows of flowers bloomed. I imagined a bounty of such blossoms all around. I imagined their color upon fine gowns. I took a moment to lament the drabness of my current attire, wishing I'd at least used the seal of my House with a few flourishes of presentation.

I stopped more often to take in the scenery and adjust my long hair as the wind curled it over my eyes. I used an extra bit of string for the same purpose as a band to hold my hair at bay. I couldn't do much about the sensitivity at my chest, which pressed against a bit of breastplate. I had to adjust it much until it finally felt comfortable.

For a long time, I didn't even look at the tower, though I continued to hold to its direction. I was preoccupied with strange notions. I wondered why I didn't take up fine needlework. I'd seen princesses of the realm craft works beyond that of other craftsmen with long days of careful stitching. I'd worn their creations and soiled them with blood and never given much thanks, while praising the bow and arrow and swords which had been bestowed upon me.