The following day was uneventful. The party took precautions in case they did not return, each writing a will to their loved ones. They were marked with a black seal. Ryder and Olivia were not given the luxury, though Ryder wouldn’t write one regardless.

  Sarah and Andrea had their long talk. Sarah was the child of one of the maids in the King’s castle. Her mother passed away when she was a child, and the King took her in. Andrea lost her mother in a similar fashion, but a little earlier. The two kept no secrets from one another, but Ryder was the exception. An anomaly.

  Ryder’s bag stayed on while in his room. It only came off when the soldiers showered him in the cold streets of Ingold. Word had gotten out of Ryder’s arrival, and a spectacle formed for the few who stayed in the city. Smiles stretched across their faces as the boy knelt on the cold stone road, shivering.

  Andrea heard the guards laughing in the streets from her open window. She looked out to find the pale boy kneeling in the street. Only his bony spine was visible from her window; it writhed every time the cold water hit his skin.

  The whispers from the buildings echoed in the dark street as Andrea stared, observing every inch of his bare back. His body was not what she expected. As if it never felt a blade’s embrace. No scars. No blemishes. Colorless.

  She rolled the sleeves of her long sleeve shirt, revealing a warrior’s mark. Scars riddled her arms. Large and small wounds ran up her arms with no pattern or conformity. Some criss crossed while others went parallel along her arms. An appearance unbefitting a Princess, but not a goddess of war. She sat on her knees with her arms folded on the window; her head rested on her chilled scars as she watched him. How strong is he?

  The light in front of Ryder flickered and he spun his head toward the window behind him, but only a candle appeared in the window. Andreas' nails dug into her clothes. Her body sat limp while her neck folded into her chest, hiding below the window.

  He tried to face the light, but another blast of water hit his back, turning his attention away from the window.

  “Hey, knock that shit off and stop wasting water,” a guard yelled. “He’s clean.”

  Andrea looked back out the window, eyes barely peering over. The guard nodded at the boy and he returned the gesture as if thanking him without moving his lips. But that was all the guard did. He didn’t get any closer. All the guards chatted around a warm fire in the street, putting a pot of water in the center. It was far away from Ryder. Not within earshot of his soft voice.

  “Hey, Captain,” Ryder said. “Can I ask you something?”

  Andrea jumped back from the window and crashed to the floor. She slowly returned to the window, but Ryder still hadn’t turned around. But his head looked lower than before. If that's even possible. Her curiosity got the better of her, despite her body wanting to close the window.

  “Depends,” she said. “And don’t turn around.”

  “My knees are frozen to this stone so I couldn’t even if I wanted to. But why can’t I?”

  “For your protection,” she said, clenching her fist. “Don’t want to lose control again and kill my favorite villain.”

  Ryder’s laugh filled the streets. It wasn’t maniacal or confident–just soft. A genuine laugh? His cold breath appeared with every wheeze. “You can kill me. I would happily die by a Princess’s hands,” he said, raising his head. “Artros’ Golden Daughter takes out its ragged abomination, right? Could be worse. I could die blindfolded in a tower.”

  Andrea did not know how to respond. The stories described him as a psychopath, a thoughtless killer. However, the boy spoke with a calming jest. Much different from the stuttering mess in the tent. Her shoulders slowly dropped as the conversation continued.

  “Have you ever seen a god?” he said coldly.

  “A god? Like in a dream?”

  Ryder moved his shoulders uncomfortably. “No, like a flesh and blood god.”

  The street was only 20 feet from her, but it was still hard to hear him. Andrea’s hands clutched the window as the cold wind blew her hair out of her face. She inched closer, sticking her head out the window.

  “Of course not,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “Have you?”

  “No, don’t!” someone yelled from the street.

  A guard approached Ryder with the pot from the fire and threw it towards him. It created a line of boiling water, but he leaned back before it hit him. His knees weren’t so fortunate. The water landed across both of them, boiling them till they were a harsh red. Ryder yelled in pain, but he quickly shut his mouth.

  Andrea moved back from the window, covering her open mouth. His guttural scream made her flinch, but the silence after made her uneasy. His back swelled and then shrunk slowly from each deep breath. She heard the air rush in and out of his nose as the boy shook uncontrollably on the stone. She waited to see his next move, readying herself for a fight. Yet, once his breathing steadied; he remained silent.

  “What the fuck were you thingking?” a guard said. “The Accords. We can’t torture him.”

  The guard who threw the water was smiling. “What? His knees were stuck. I had to do it.”

  Something snapped in Andrea for a brief moment. Stand up for yourself. Be the villain that I know you are. But he just sat there, his head in its natural slouch.

  “Hey!” Andrea yelled, standing with both arms planted firmly in the window. “If he can’t recover from that, your ass is going in the tower!”

  The guard looked up to see the Captain in the window. He dropped the pot and his smile faded.

  “Um b-b-but his legs were stuck,” he babbled.

  He looked at the shaking boy’s legs. They were bright red with boils forming halfway up his thighs ending at his knees. The snow evaporated from the boiling water, forming a line in the snow.

  “Thank you Captain," Ryder said softly.

  Andrea bit her tongue, trying to ignore him. “Take him to Mace and take some of that ice with you. And let him rest for tomorrow.”

  All the soldiers came over to help when they heard Andrea. They carefully helped Ryder off the ground. However, he couldn’t move his legs; the drastic temperature change sent them into shock. His feet dragged all the way to Mace's room a few buildings over.

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  She watched him leave–never seeing his face in the dim street. An odd feeling rushed over her. Disappointment. With Ryder, but also with herself. What was he talking about? The gods? Nobody ever saw the gods, not even when they awakened their children. But more importantly, did she defend him?

  The streets were silent and Ingold returned back to its new normal. Andrea gave one final look at the tower and climbed into her bed, blowing out the candle in the room. She didn’t get much sleep–nobody did–but morning arrived nonetheless.

  ***

  At the crack of dawn, the party got their backpacks and supplies together. They handed their letters to the caravan guards and got changed into their tower attire. The standard uniform for a tower was leather for its lightweight properties, allowing the person to adapt quickly to anything. Some would make alterations so it fits the person’s gift or role better. Mace added a few extra pockets for bandages and a holster for his hunting knife.

  Andrea wore her signature silver armour. It had her Father’s crest engraved on the chest. A grandeur awarded to the Captain only. The armour only covered up to her shoulders, and it revealed her scars.

  Ryder and Olivia had the same leather garments as the others. They weren’t allowed to carry anything on their body and the silver shackles stayed on. Ryder’s bag received an upgrade that allowed it to be tightened around his neck. Flint’s idea.

  The tower masters gathered in a separate room from the prisoners. The room was quiet as they stuck the final items in their bags. Andrea walked through the door, armour shining. A slight smile formed in the corner of her mouth. “Are we ready?” she said, looking each member in the eye.

  Some nodded. Others gave worried expressions. Andrea’s eyes looked at Mace, who was looking at the ground.

  “I want you all to be uncomfortable,” she said. Mace’s head shot up. “The towers could be anything and everything. You cannot predict it and you cannot outrun it. It’s one of the first lessons you learn at the academy. Relax only after you see that blue crystal,” she said, scanning the room. "The fear will keep you sharp.”

  Mace closed his eyes and whispered something to himself, then returned a fierce pair of eyes to Andrea.

  “Let's go,” he said.

  They left the tent and were greeted by hundreds, packed arm to arm in the streets. People climbed to the tall rooftops to get a view of the silver armor. They erupted as the party entered the street. Artros flags lined the streets, showing the path to the tower’s entrance. The streets parted as the party moved down the road to the tower.

  Andrea felt the pressure with every step. All of their hope lay on her scarred body in silver armour. Some grabbed at her hands while others went for her hair, hoping to get a piece. They cheered her name, but the further she got the quicker it turned to begging. But her steps grew more confident the closer she got to the tower. This was her responsibility as the Princess. These were her people.

  “Holy crap,” Andrew said. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

  “Well, towers don’t usually just pop up in cities, so the atmosphere is a little different,” Rae said. “Typically, you get a few failures before the plague gets anywhere close to a city.”

  They continued to walk down the road as people gave them gifts to show their appreciation. Food, water, and weapons were all offered, but the party remained focused on the black tower. They reached the base of the tower when a roar appeared behind them.

  Ryder and Olivia were escorted down the road. Every swear word imaginable was thrown at the two as they walked to the tower. Ryder still blindfolded. He bumped into people screaming in his face as if he were running in a maze. .

  The guards pushed the crowd back as they walked. Cans, shoes, and drinks rained down from the balconies. Olivia was able to dodge most of them; however, she did not receive as many projectiles as Ryder did. He walked with his head down, arms tied behind his back. They hit every inch of his body at random intervals. Doubtful even with his eyes that he would be able to dodge them.

  Emily watched with a smile, egging the crowd on. Andrea grinned when the first few objects hit him, but the feeling slowly faded as he got closer. By the time he got to the tower, she had no emotion on her face, just a cold look.

  “Good to see you two made it,” Connor said. “That was the easy part, so I hope you can take more than that.”

  Olivia bared her fangs. “Let’s just get in there, team. And remember we’ve got this!” she said, forcing a smile.

  Ryder reached the end of the road. His pace was steady walking down to the tower, regardless of all the objects being thrown. However, the closer he got the slower he moved. Andrea didn’t have to see the tower to feel its presence. Ryder was likely the same.

  One last shoe with a flower intertwined in its laces hit him in the back of the head. Sarah watched him almost lose his balance. He swayed back and forth, but stayed fixated on what was in front of him–the tower.

  Sarah went to speak, but Andrea stood in front of the boy, facing the crowd. “Alright that's enough,” she said, her voice a little annoyed. “Thank you for all the warm beds and hospitality you have provided, but we must leave and enter the tower.”

  “Please remember our names as we fight on your behalf: Andrea Silverfield, Emily Erwick, Sarah Lin, Rae Blackshire, Connor Xavier, Andrew Xavier, Fletcher Beverly, Mace Fry, Olivia Thorne, and Ryder Hartigan,” she shouted. “Carry these names with you for the rest of your lives.”

  Ryder looked away from the tower when his name was called. His shock showed even though the bag covered it.

  Andrea turned and looked at the group. “Alright, everyone, let’s kick this thing's ass,” she said. “For Artros!”

  “For Artros!” the others shouted.

  The party members walked to the base of the tower. Their bodies looked like snowflakes wrapped around the tower’s base. Flint moved Olivia next to the twins and turned her away from the tower. He did the same thing with Ryder, only a little rougher.

  “First chance you give me, I'll take you out, swine,” Flint said, gritting his teeth. “Got that.”

  “What could I possibly do to you that the tower couldn’t?” Ryder snapped back, placing his chained hands on the cold tower. The dull red cloth around his wrist rubbed against the tower's ancient walls.

  Flint saw Andrea raise her hand above her head. He put his hand on Ryder’s, crushing it against the tower. Ryder’s bones moved from the pressure. Andrew and Connor pressed Olivia’s hand and their own to the tower. Everyone was touching the tower.

  Andea took one last glance at all of the party members, then at the street, taking it all in. Some of the supporters had tears streaming down their faces as she placed her hand on the tower. While others couldn’t watch. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

  “Enter!” she screamed. It reverberated through the street, and then they were gone, like they never existed.

  The crowd remained silent for a while. It slowly dissipated after the party left. A few waved their Artros' flags with a slow and lazy pace. Those on balconies climbed down and went back to their homes. Murmurs were heard all through the streets, but the city had no life. It was hollow.

  One little girl stared at the tower from her room. She had a direct sightline from her window. Her voice felt coarse from all the screaming. A coat that dragged on the floor when she walked draped over her shoulders. Her bed had barely any covers, but it was the only bed in the house. Books were scattered throughout the room. Everything from children’s books to lengthy novels.

  She sat on the bed and felt something poke her side from within the jacket. She reached into the interior pocket and pulled out a slightly crumpled letter with a blue seal. She broke the seal and read the beautiful penmanship. Her mouth grew larger as her eyes moved down the paige. Tears filled her eyes, and the letter fell from her shaky fingers. It landed slightly open with the first line visible in big bold letters.

  “To my beautiful daughter Andrea,”

  She couldn’t move. She looked at her shaky hands and saw her shoe through her fingers. There was only one. It had a beautiful flower woven through the laces. She put her head in her hands and cried.

  “Why did it have to hit him?”

  Unfortunately, seasons would change and years would pass as the tower in Ingold would stand undefeated, constantly fighting its ten skillful opponents. The girl wouldn’t see anyone from the party for a long time. And some she would never see again.