M26

Morgan whirled around, his spear in a guard position, and took a step back. Hovering in the air before him was what he could only describe as a bundle of oscillating silvery lights and mist. The voice tinkled forth from the lights, and they seemed to flare in time with the words, “Don’t be alarmed, Lord. I am here to serve at your disposal. My name is Tiladia.”

“You’re a servant?” he asked, lifting the tip of his spear and relaxing his guard a bit.

“Of a sort, Lord. I was bound to this tower by its creator. When Lord Vormendion ascended, he instructed me to serve the one who defeated the first guardian.” Several things about that sentence piqued Morgan’s interest.

“What do you mean ascended?”

“Departed this plane, Lord.”

“Uh-huh, and what do you mean he bound you to this tower?”

“When Lord Vormendion vanquished my physical form, he bound my soul here.” Morgan wasn’t sure if he imagined it, but it seemed the tinkling voice took on a note of sorrow.

“Your physical form?” he pressed.

“Yes, Lord. I was a dragon.” The silvery lights and mist pulled together and refined into the shape of a winged serpent that did a lazy flip in the air and then broke apart, back into the previous formless cluster.

“Wow, so he stole your soul? Can I release you?”

“Lord, that wouldn’t be wise at this juncture, even if you were able. I possess keen evaluation skills, and I can tell you that you cannot free me. Not with your present abilities.”

“Well, let’s focus on matters at hand, then. First, please don’t constantly refer to me as ‘lord’ - my name is Morgan, and I’m fine with you using it. Second, I have a quest to clear eight guardians from this tower. Am I in danger of being attacked by the other guardians?”

“No, Morgan. Not until you venture onto their respective floors of the tower; they are bound, much like I am, though not so completely.”

“Alright, well, can you help me deal with them?” Despite his better judgment, Morgan found himself trusting the spirit, and he relaxed his posture, placing the butt of his spear on the ground and leaning on it.

“Only so much as to warn you off if I feel your chances of success are too small. I’m sorry, Lord Morgan, but I’m bound by myriad esoteric rules that Vormendion etched into my soulstone.”

“Well, what are my odds? Can I take them?” Morgan sighed deeply. Things never seemed to go easily, and he was starting to realize that the System liked it that way.

“Morgan, I feel you stand a great chance of success against the next guardian. I think you would be wise to gather more strength before you attempt to face the third.” The lights flashed and did a quick circuit around him as it spoke.

“All right, um, I’m sorry, what was your name again?”

“I am Tiladia.”

“Okay, Tiladia, are there any other threats on this floor of the tower?”

“No, Lord Morgan. This floor is clear of danger.”

“Well, in that case, I’m going to go over to that library area and get some sleep on one of those couches. I’m beat. I’ll look into facing the second guardian tomorrow.” Morgan walked around the spirit and through the central hall and back into the empty library with all the comfortable-looking couches and chairs. Tiladia followed behind him, emitting a faint tinkling sound as it moved.

“Tiladia, is that a feminine name? I’m sorry for the personal question, but I don’t want to think of you as ‘it’ in my mind.”

“Yes, Morgan, I was a female dragon. I was so beautiful, Morgan! I had dozens of suitors, from Red to Gold. Morgan, my children would have filled the skies of Aradnue. Alas, Vormendion came to our world and took many of our lives in his quest for power. I was the only soul he kept, though, and I know it was because of the beauty of my scales and the ferocity of my breath. He became enamored with me, I’m sure of it!”

“Well, I’m glad to meet you, Tiladia, and if it’s possible, I’ll do my best to find a way to set you free if that’s what you want.” Morgan loosened the buckles on his armor and his girdle and set his belongings on the floor next to a particularly puffy-looking leather sofa. “Tiladia, do you know how to dim these lights?”

“Yes, Morgan. I will do that for you. Sleep well, and thank you for offering to free me. You’ve given me a lot to think about.” The tinkling voice faded as Tiladia floated from the room and the orange and yellow orbs of fire in the chandelier dimmed to just a faint glimmer. Morgan sighed, stretched out with his robes wrapped tightly around himself, and slept more soundly than he had in many long days.

Morgan stirred, hearing the sound of tinkling bells. As reality intruded on his sleeping mind, he realized he wasn’t hearing someone jingling bells nearby but Tiladia speaking to him. Her voice was musical but very strange, having the quality of crystal or glass breaking and falling on a hard surface. “Morgan. Lord Morgan!” Her voice rose in volume, and he opened his eyes.

“Hello, Tiladia,” he muttered.

“Good morning, Morgan. I am sorry to disturb your rest, but you have a visitor pounding on the door to the tower.” Morgan grunted and immediately leaned over to pull on his boots and greaves.

“How long did I sleep?”

“Just a bit more than ten hours, Morgan.” Tiladia flashed and swirled as she spoke, and Morgan got the impression she was agitated.

“Is something wrong, Tiladia?” he asked as he fastened his vambraces and stood up to put on his girdle and pouches.

“I’m worried about the intruder, Morgan. Friendly people very seldom visit this tower.”

“Oh, well, that was during Vormendion’s time. I think things will be different while I live here. Don’t worry, that’s probably just one of the colonists coming to see if I’m alive or whatever.” Morgan stretched hugely; he felt good if a bit hungry. “Tiladia, is there a bathroom, you know, a toilet, on this floor?”

“Morgan, the baths are on the third floor with the bedrooms. There is a toilet for guests on this floor, though, on the left-hand wall of the entry hall.”

“What? I can’t believe I missed a door; I walked around that central staircase room three times.” Morgan started walking out of the library and into the central chamber.

“The door is discrete, Morgan, and it’s not in this room, but just at the end of the entry hall. I’ll show you,” Tiladia tinkled as she floated ahead of him toward the tower entrance. Morgan followed and, now that he was looking, quickly spotted the paneled door just inside the short hallway leading to the front door. He depressed the little brass handle, and it opened inward into a little bathroom complete with a marble sink and toilet. It was paneled in the same wood as the entry hall and had a decorative tile floor that was an off-white color with black designs, sort of like paisleys.

“Running water?” Morgan asked, pushing the little handle to the sink faucet. He marveled as warm water immediately came out of the brass-colored tap.

“Yes, Vormendion liked his creature comforts. He built an Energy-based steam engine in the basement.”

“There’s a basement? Hold on. Answer that when I come out, give me a minute alone in here, please.” Tiladia made a high-pitched tinkling sound as she hurriedly floated out of the bathroom. Morgan closed the door, took care of his business, and returned to the hallway.

“Yes, there’s a basement. It’s through the door in the kitchens, though I’m afraid the key to the lock is in the master bed-chamber,” Tiladia responded as soon as he stepped back into the hallway.

“Ugh, and that’s on the third floor?”

“No, the guest rooms, seldom-used, by the way, are on the third floor. The master bed-chamber is on the fifth floor.”

“Ugh!” Morgan huffed, more loudly this time. Truthfully, he didn’t care that much; he was happy to sleep on a couch for a while so long as he wasn’t forced to keep watch and wonder what the System might send to interrupt his sleep. He figured it would take him a while to take full ownership of this tower, and he didn’t know how long he’d stick around to mess with it: he wanted to find Issa and her people. With that in mind, he stepped over to one of the front doors and was just reaching to open it when someone banged on it vigorously, four times. When Morgan put his hand on the handle, the door loudly clicked as it unlocked. He pushed it open and was greeted with a familiar face.

“Hey, Boris! Long time no fuckin’ see!” Morgan reached out a hand to shake, but Boris backed up a step.

“Morgan, that’s you? Shit, man, you’ve changed a lot since training.” Morgan and Boris had been in the same training group as they prepared for the Pioneer mission. They’d both been assigned as technicians and had many of the same classes together.

“Yeah, man, but what hasn’t changed?” Morgan kept his hand out, and Boris snapped out of his stupor and reached forward to shake. “How are you? Are you adjusting to things?”

“Oh, yeah, better than most. I’m pretty good at this Energy shit. Been learning to use it to improve mundane items. Like I learned to enchant an axe, so it doesn’t need to be sharpened so often while cutting trees. People have been trading me all kinds of shit to work on their tools. Arthur says I’m up high on the list to get one of the bigger houses when they start building them.” Boris shrugged and backed up to the edge of the stoop, and gestured to the tower. “Nothing like this, though. This tower is insane, man. Where’d you get it? Oh, by the way, Olivia sent me to get you; they’re having a meeting soon and wanted you to attend.”

Morgan stepped out, closed the door behind him, then said, “Yeah, this tower was a reward for completing a fairly difficult quest. I’ll tell you the whole story sometime. Where are we headed?”

“Over to the forge. They like to meet there cause it has big worktables they can stand around and talk.” Boris turned, walked down the steps, and waited for Morgan, who followed. Morgan took a breath of the crisp morning air, letting Boris lead the way as they walked up the slight incline to the main encampment. They made small talk, Morgan feeling awkward because of the deference with which Boris treated him. Boris kept surreptitiously looking at him from the side of his eyes, and Morgan could feel the gulf that had sprung up between them - another side effect of sleeping for hundreds of years and then waking up in a magical reality, he supposed.

Soon, they were walking into the warm air of the forge, and Morgan saw several people, including Olivia and Arthur, standing around a big work table. The table was littered with large sheets of paper covered with diagrams, maps, and notes. Morgan walked up to the table with Boris, and the conversation halted. Olivia smiled and said, “Good morning, Morgan. Let me introduce our temporary council. You already met Arthur Ballard. This gentleman on my left is Dr. Kerns. He’s our Chief Medical Officer. You know Boris; he’s representing the technical groups, and next to Arthur, there, is Tanya Delgado. She’s our Chief Civil Engineer.”

“Hello everyone,” Morgan said as he moved to stand in an empty spot to Olivia’s left.

“Yes, everyone, this is Morgan Hall. I won’t pretend that we haven’t already been talking about him all morning. Morgan, we wanted you here because you’ve experienced a lot more of this world than we have and obviously had some success. We’re also keen to hear about your plans to contact your friend’s community.”

“Well, I’ve already debriefed you and Arthur about nearly everything I know. I suppose I’m happy to answer specific questions, though. As far as my friend, Issa, goes, I’m going to start scouting toward her settlement as soon as possible. I’m not sure what lies between here and there, so I may or may not have to improve my abilities prior to trying to make the journey.”

“How do you know where she is? Did she help you to make a map?” Tanya Delgado asked.

“No. Neither Issa nor I knew where in the world the Crucible was. We weren’t even sure it was on this planet until we got to the top and saw the moons. She didn’t recognize the landscape. Not only that, but she had no idea where in the world the System put the humans. So, yeah, no map. I have an ability, though, granted by my class, that allows me to kind of feel where an ally is.”

“Is that why you’ve grown? Because of your class?” Boris interrupted.

“No, Boris, that’s because of his racial improvements. He’s already been over this with us; let’s stay on topic,” Olivia answered for Morgan.

“Well, what about your class, then? Can you tell us about it? I don’t know anyone else that’s made it to level ten,” Boris pressed.

“Ahem,” Arthur spoke up, “Boris, please be patient, and one of us can fill you in. Morgan already talked to us about his class advancement and even gave us some tips on how to earn better options. Olivia and I will draft a manual to spread among the colonists in the next day or two.”

“Right, well, anyway, I can feel Issa about a hundred miles or so to the southeast.” Morgan shrugged. “I’ll be exploring in that direction for the next little while.”

“But you’ll be basing your explorations from here, right? You meant what you said about helping Bronwyn with the creature in the cave when she returns?” Olivia asked, a note of worry in her voice.

“Yeah, of course, unless she takes forever to get back here. I do want to get to Issa before the seasons change. If they do. Does anyone have any idea about that?”

“Yes. We’ve determined a definite tilt to this planet’s axis, and, in the short time we’ve been here, the days have increased in length by fourteen minutes.” Dr. Kerns spoke up for the first time.

“That’s right; we think we’re moving into summer. Though we don’t know how long each season will last, we think it’ll be some time before winter,” Olivia added.

Morgan nodded, and the meeting continued. It ended up dragging on for another hour. The group covered many topics, like where they should put the first roads, how many colonists still needed housing, who led the contribution lists, and which colonists were struggling and required assistance obtaining food. Morgan listened politely and tried to contribute where he could, but honestly, he just wanted to get back to the tower and see about dealing with the second guardian.

As the meeting started to break up, Morgan remembered that he had quite a few weapons and scraps in his pouch that he’d scavenged from the Urghat’s and the lair of the Yovashi. He started to remove them, one by one, and create a pile in the middle of the forge. The temporary council members marveled as he pulled one item after another from his pouch, dropping spears, daggers, swords, furs, leather scraps, hammers, and axes. He kept a backup spear for himself and a couple of sharp daggers; otherwise, he unloaded most of the rusty and mundane items he and Issa had acquired. “I don’t think these will do me much good, and maybe the people working in the forge can practice with them. You know, melt them down, sharpen them, whatever.”

“That’s generous, Morgan. You’re going to have to give me the whole story about the Crucible someday,” Olivia said.

“That will require a lot of good bourbon, and, so far, I haven’t seen any in this world.” He laughed, gave Olivia a short wave, and made his way back to his tower; it was time to see what was on the second floor.