It was a quiet Sunday. Birds chirped lovingly in the trees, their songs weaving through the cool forest air.
The three of them—Elendil, Angel, and Neptur—walked steadily along a mossy path, following the winding trail that led to the legendary wizard's tower.
Elendil groaned and stretched his back.
"Are we there yet? We've been walking for hours..."
Neptur chuckled softly: "Almost."
After a few more minutes, the path opened up to a clearing. There, rising like a twisted monolith, stood Obscurath Spire—a crooked tower blanketed in ivy and shadow, its ancient stones whispering with forgotten magic.
Neptur stepped forward and knocked. The heavy wooden door creaked, then slowly opened—not to reveal the wizard, but a stranger. A tall man in his twenties, pale as moonlight, with jet-black hair and piercing red eyes.
???: "Hm? Oh. You're here. Come in," he muttered quietly, stepping aside.
Neptur nodded, smiling politely. The three entered cautiously.
Inside, the tower was alive with magic: bookshelves bowed under the weight of tomes; bottles glowed with strange liquids; vines curled along the vaulted ceiling, illuminated by floating candles.
???: "Take a seat. I'll call the wizard... and bring you some tea."
Elendil, wide-eyed, whispered, "Wow. This place is… wild."
Neptur: "Please. Don't touch anything."
Angel sat quietly, scanning the room. Something felt wrong. The air was too still, the magic too thick.
Without warning, a burst of green smoke erupted in the corner, and a figure appeared.
Elendil: "Ah! Oh… It's the wizard."
Wizard: "Greetings, honored guests! Welcome to Obscurath Spire. Please, sit."
They took their seats beside Angel. The wizard, robed in violet with golden embroidery, smiled warmly.
Wizard: "I see you received my invitation. Excellent!"
Neptur: "We did. But what's this all about?"
The wizard retrieved a thick leather-bound book and placed it before him.
Just then, the red-eyed man returned with a tray of tea, setting it gently on the table. Elendil took a cup with a grateful nod.
Elendil: "Thanks! Smells amazing."
Neptur: "So… what's this about?"
Wizard: "Ah. It concerns events that took place... many years ago."
They began to sip the tea. Angel tasted it—sweet, but strangely heavy. He frowned.
Elendil: "Mmm… delicious."
Angel took another sip, then sighed. Something wasn't right. He rubbed his temples.
Elendil, noticing, leaned toward him. "Hey, you okay?"
Angel: "Huh? Yeah... Just feel a little lightheaded."
Elendil: "Me too. This tea's weird…"
Angel's eyes widened. He set the cup down. Across the room, the red-eyed man was staring at him. Not just watching—studying him.
Neptur: "Hm… May I ask something?" He put his cup down slowly. "You—" he pointed at the man, "—what did you put in the tea?"
The man didn't answer. He just stared, motionless.
The wizard chuckled.
Wizard: "You still don't see it, do you?" He leaned back, crossing his legs. "This meeting wasn't just for answers. No, I brought you here to uncover your secrets." His smile turned sinister. "Especially yours," he pointed at Angel. "Because you, dear child, are no mere mortal. You're a god—and I intend to have your power."
Neptur: "What? That's madness!"
Wizard: "In the tea, I added Somniverum Sanguinis—a rare elixir of sleep and truth." He clapped his hands, the sound echoing ominously through the chamber. "And now…" yaps.
Angel groaned. His vision blurred. He looked over—Elendil had already collapsed. Neptur followed seconds later.
The wizard's eyes widened as he saw Angel still conscious.
Wizard: "Oh? Still awake? Fascinating…"
Angel exhaled shakily, then closed his eyes.
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Later...
Elendil awoke in a dimly lit chamber. The air was damp, and faint arcane symbols pulsed along the walls. He was bound in glowing ropes, magic-infused and unbreakable. He groaned, struggling.
Angel and Neptur lay nearby, still unconscious, similarly restrained. Bottles of glowing essence lined the walls—souls? Powers? It was hard to tell.
Elendil writhed and tried biting through the rope, but it was no use. A faint mechanical whirring echoed as the pale man returned, carrying a strange device of spinning rings and runes.
Angel stirred slowly, his body stiff, head foggy. Magic ropes coiled around his chest and limbs like snakes. The stone floor beneath him was cold and damp. He blinked, vision clearing just enough to see the dimly lit chamber.
To his right, Elendil was already awake—bound the same way, his face tight with confusion. Neptur still lay unconscious, breathing shallow but steady.
And then—
A voice.
Wizard:
"Awake, are we?"
Angel flinched at the sound. The Wizard stepped into view from the shadows, robes brushing the ground like whispered threats. Behind him, the tall red-eyed man silently adjusted a humming machine—a twisted thing of wood, stone, and iron veins pulsing with dull orange light.
Wizard: "You tried to hide it well. The silence. The lowered gaze. But it's in your blood, child. You can't bury divinity forever."
Angel blinked hard.
Angel: "...What are you talking about?"
Wizard: Chuckles "Still pretending? How very mortal of you."
Angel: "I am mortal."
His voice was low, defensive. "I'm just a traveler. I'm no one special."
The Wizard's grin widened. He paced slowly, hands clasped behind his back.
Wizard: "Let me guess. Your power showed up one day. Uncontrolled, wild. You thought it was a curse. A mistake. Maybe even someone else's fault. But no. It was always yours. Because you are not like them—"
He gestured lazily to Elendil and Neptur.
"You're something older. Bigger. And soon... something empty."
The machine clicked behind them. The red-eyed man began sliding in glowing crystals. The room pulsed faintly.
Angel's breath caught. He shook his head.
Angel: "You're wrong. I'm just—I'm just a human."
Wizard: "Ah, but you're not 'just' anything. You're a lie dressed in skin. A god playing peasant."
He leaned in, inches from Angel's face.
Wizard: Whispering "And I'm going to tear your truth out one drop at a time."
Elendil's heart pounded.
He looked down—then froze. Just behind his back, on the floor, a shard of broken glass glittered faintly beneath him. Probably from one of the cracked potion bottles. His hands were bound behind his back, but maybe...
Carefully, he shifted, pressing his fingers down onto the glass.
Wizard: "You all drank the tea. Slept like babes. But you—", he pointed to Angel, "fought it longer. Divine resistance. Rare. Beautiful. Useful."
Angel: firm "You're wasting your time."
The Wizard stood again, circling.
Wizard: "Time is all I have. Do you know how long I've waited to meet one of your kind again? Centuries. You're the first in ages to come willingly into my home. Into the heart of the Tower of Obscurath."
The machine behind them hummed louder.
Elendil winced—he felt the shard bite into his skin. The ropes were tight, but the edge was just enough. He twisted, wiggled, sliced...
The rope on his right wrist began to give.
The Wizard didn't notice. He was lost in his ranting now.
Wizard: "They left, you know. The gods. Fled. Cowards, every one. But they left pieces. Power. And you... you're one of those pieces. And I—"
Angel: narrow his eyes "You're insane."
Wizard: "I'm devoted." Smiles
The rope snapped.
Elendil didn't wait. He pulled free, silent, his eyes flicking across the room. A wooden broom rested against the wall by the door—old, dusty, forgotten.
He crawled, keeping low.
The machine behind the red-eyed man began to spark.
Wizard : "You'll thank me in the end. I'm not destroying you—I'm freeing you. Unwrapping the divine from the weak flesh you've shackled it in."
Elendil grabbed the broom. Stood. And ran.
Elendil: "HEY, GRANDPA!"
The Wizard turned just in time to catch the full swing of the broom to the back of the head. He stumbled forward with a grunt, colliding with a table of dusty scrolls.
Angel's eyebrows raise.
Angel: "Elendil!"
Elendil grinned, breathing hard.
Elendil: "Told you I was good at improvising."
But the red-eyed man turned sharply, now alert, eyes narrowing.
Angel: "Look out—!"
The man raised a hand.
The broom exploded into ash in Elendil's grip.
Angel growled, twisting against the ropes. One snap—then another—then freedom. His hands flared briefly with faint gold light.
The red-eyed man raised his hand again—too slow.
Angel tackled him with full force, slamming him into the side of the humming machine. Sparks flew. One of the crystals cracked.
Wizard: from the ground "NO—DON'T—!"
But it was too late. The machine buzzed violently.
Angel stepped back, eyes on the crystal.
Angel: low "You wanted a god. Now deal with the storm you just called."
TO BE CONTINUED...