I was closing on the tower. It was round with a pointed roof cap a good four stories above me. It was completely black but not like dirty stone streaked with ages of dust storms and polluted air, no it shined in the tepid moonlight reminding me of obsidian. No, it was obsidian and the glass surface was covered with ancient words. As hard as it was for me to believe, the tower looked to be one single piece of stone carved into this shape. As I approached, it loomed overhead emitting black like the natural glass it was. This tower had been forged in the heart of a volcano and born perfectly formed just for this purpose. The writing had been etched with painstaking accuracy onto the tower’s glass surface then fused with a power that made the words glow with light. Different colored lights passed through the letters as they gave power to these ancient words. This language was born deep in the mists of my memory. It was when the ancient gods of the chaos had laid their plans to hold power over all creation. These words were as old as the wretched seven words of pure magic.
Energy streaked around the tower first in the color of white lightning but then fading to blood red giving way to a pale blue glow. These sparks of lightning shattered the night as they wove the wicked north wind that was leaving my hands numb.
The trail played out near the base of the tower. I wanted to keep my distance from the wretched object but that wasn’t happening. I couldn’t imagine touching this horror. I found myself in awe of the hopelessness held by this monstrous bit of Wormwood’s handy work. The wind had taken on the bitter smell of almonds and the frigid air swirled around me like snakes, crushing me with the power of a language I could no longer understand. It was spinning the terror of the unknowing. The terror of this tower’s unknowing. This tower should not be. Yet, here it was. I had to do something to get away from this freakish, malformed cold. I could only hope this chaos wasn’t living inside the tower as well. I forced my feet into an awkward stumble as I made my way around the tower’s base only to fall face first onto the ground of the redwood forest. As I spit dirt and pine needles from my mouth I forced myself to get up off the molding ground. It was then I saw it. A problem designed to pull the last bit of hope from my heart. The doorless opening for the tower was a good fifteen feet above ground level. I just had to be short right?