“Your presence here is a gift.” His eyes keep steady with yours, almost as if he’s begging you to search his expression for lies. “Upon my word, no harm will come to you. I would not allow it.”
Perhaps it’s curiosity, perhaps you believe him, because you find yourself going further into the room. The heavy stone doors grind, shaking the chamber until they slam shut with a loud thud. Only the glimmers in the stone’s veins light the room in rhythmic pulses. They flash across his features, soft ambient light that makes him look somehow younger. There are brief moments of darkness too where his eyes are the only thing burning in the room with you.
The closer you step towards him, the brighter the sigil he’s standing on becomes. Everything in the room is reacting to both of you. You reach out and take his hand, finding it oddly cold. His hand remains under yours, gentle rather than encasing.
As magic begins to spark like static between your hand and his, he pulls sharply away. His hand flexes as if he’s checking for something or shaking away the odd sensation. You’re not sure. But you aware that he seems surprised, confused even. This isn’t a normal occurrence between Arcanists.
He doesn’t share what he’s thinking. He only motions a hand towards the other sigil, inviting you to step on it.
Your Archetype Shapes What You Understand
Clandestine Mystic
The moment your feet touch the sigil, you can feel it, something pulling at your magic. But you resist, pressing your powers down deeper into you. You try with all your might to resist whatever force is searching and prodding you for power. When it can’t seem to find what it wants, it pulls away.
And then you see it in your mind’s eyes, the Spire and countless others. You can see the network of magic running through the earth the same way the veins stretch across the stone walls. It’s a barrier of some kind, feeding off of the magic in the Spires. And barrier is holding something back, shielding the world against… something.
You realize it’s a barrier and that the barrier is thin where magic does not exist. Pulling away, making yourself less, is keeping you alive but it might very well be weakening the Spire and whatever barrier is being created.
Arcane Strategist
You take your time, one foot after the next, and watch in anticipation when the sigils come alive at your presence. You don’t resist the pull as your magic is brought to the surface. You allow it, watching and studying, ever observant of the flow of power as your magic begins to weave with that of the Spire’s.
And not just this Spire but other Spires dotted across one continent to the next. Your connection expands beyond this room. From luscious forests to dry desert sands, you find yourself pulled in every direction. You notice the pattern in the network, the barrier that’s been created as a calculated defense against something far greater than your understanding.
You realize the truth, the blood draining from your face. If even a single Spire falls, if one of them collapses, the entire network falls with it.
Veil Breaker
Without fear or hesitation, you move to the sigil and stand firm. It burns hot, bright white and volatile. You meet power with power, letting your magic spill out of you in undulating waves, each one stronger than the last. The chamber shakes, the walls trembling seconds before the pedestal in the center cracks in half.
You fight harder, meeting force with force, until you can see every Spire scattered in different parts of the world. You realize something dark is fighting to get into the Spires, a darkness determined to destroy, determined to consume everything in its path. The network isn’t just defensive. It’s a weapon fighting back against a powerful enemy.
And it needs more power or else it won’t survive the war.
Runic Enchantress
Before you even reach the sigil, you can sense power in the room with you. It’s delicate at first, tugging at your senses, drawing your attention. When you step over the sigil completely, you realize it isn’t just the Spire alone that has a connection with you.
Yes, there are countless Spires across the world but this one is different. This Spire feels different. He feels different. You realize then that he isn’t just simply attuned to the Spire but very much bound to it. When you allow your magic to weave into the network it doesn’t seek out the other places. Instead, your magic reaches for him, coils around him until he gasps, eyes locking with your eyes and something crosses his mind.
Something crosses yours as well. He is far more connected to the Spire than you first thought.
The room brightens sharply until your vision is pure white. Voices echo inside your mind, ancient and layered, indistinguishable at first. Then you understand. The Spires hold the darkness at bay and not all who possess magic can sustain the network. Magic isn’t illegal because it’s solely seen as dangerous. It’s illegal to gather up everyone and anyone who can serve in the fight against evil whether they want to or not.
You’re a prisoner and a sacrifice.
The light vanishes. The sigils fade until the room is pitch black and you can’t see a single thing. All you can hear is your own heartbeat drumming in your ears.
His voice cut the silence, jolting you a few steps backwards, “Did you see them?”
The walls brighten again, the gold veins pulsing enough for you to see the shadowy outline of his face. He’s staring, examining you for answers to the million questions he wants to ask.
You give a terse nod. “Other Spires.”
“Did you learn anything else?”
You look down, not sure what you’re expecting to find. You look exactly the same as you did the very morning they took you from your home. But you feel different, your magic is different. You aren’t sure if the word attunement describes how you feel. Something lingers in you, a magic that isn’t quite yours and you can’t help but wonder if it’s the Spire’s or something else.
He nods, perhaps noting the change in you as well. “It usually takes years of training to see what you did. The Spire is… choosing you for some reason.”
Heart racing, you stumble off the sigil in hopes of finding the door.
“The Spire needs you. We all need you.”
When you look over to take in his expression, you note his parted lips. He wants to say something else, but decides to remain quiet. Instead, he leans forward in a deep bow and places his hand over his heart. A request, a desperate plea.
Make your choice:
A.) You didn’t choose to be born with magic. Refuse to become a weapon by hiding your magic as much as possible.
B.) Learn more about the darkness, where it comes from, and what its weakness is in order to defeat it or control it.
C.) If the Spires are all that stand against the dark, then become a far greater power that neither the Spire nor the darkness can touch.
D.) He’s keeping a secret from you. His connection is more than he lets on, and you decide to learn the truth.
Author’s Notes: I have a refurbished computer that is functional that I started using at work during my free time. The keyboard is Japanese, and it’s been a frustrating learning curve (some symbols and things are in completely different spots. I’m looking at you apostrophe!)
I also got some amazing feedback on how to make the story better so you might see some big changes coming in the future! Or I might leave those changes available to special readers.
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