Chapter 501 - The Maker's Tower

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It was the afternoon of the second day when they finally emerged from the mountain chasm into the island’s heart. Hump stepped out into a vast, open plain—a hollow basin encircled by jagged peaks that stretched continuously around them. They loomed like ancient monoliths, cutting them off from the rest of the world.

The ground beneath Hump’s boots shifted with each step—not soil, or even sand, but dust-like powder that clung to everything. Wind stirred it lazily, revealing hints of rusted metal and bones half-buried beneath the surface. Above, clouds of essence swirled in slow, murky spirals to form a sickly haze of magic. It stained the sky in streaks of brown and violet, blotting out all but the faintest hint of the sun.

“We are here,” Captain Hadbur said solemnly. “Welcome to Irnethkar.”

The name settled like a stone in Hump’s gut. Ahead lay a desolate plain of rolling hills and crumbling ridges, stretching out until it met the unbroken mountain ring. The only landmark was a solitary tower in the distance, jagged and dark, rising from the flatness like a blade from the earth.

All around them, the landscape was littered with silent shapes. Half-sunken mounds covered in moss and glowing fungi that somehow managed to survive in even this hostile environment. Ancient weapons twisted by rust, shattered shields, broken bones stuck out in places—it was a battlefield lost to time.

Hump’s chest tightened. He activated Spirit Sight, but it could not peer through the darkness of this place. Power pooled here unnaturally, void of intent. There was a finality to this place.

“Touch nothing,” Hadbur warned, his voice stern. “There is a curse upon the dead, and all that went with them.”

Prince Marcoff chuckled, brushing the dust from his cloak. “I will believe it when I see it, Hadbur.”

“I have seen it,” Hadbur said. “One of my own tried to take something. In only moments, their body withered until all that remained was bones. We left them where they fell.”

Marcoff frowned. “A shame. Our people could benefit from what lies here.”

“They will benefit more when the Maker is free,” Princess Urella said. “That is the tale we are a part of, Marcoff. This is where the Maker fought against the Destroyers and lost. Now, his heralds have come, and he shall be free to reforge the world once more.”

“And you have led us here, Prince” one of Marcoff’s attendants said to him proudly. “The songs will remember your leadership.”

“Let’s survive to tell the tale before we start talking about that,” Hump said. “The Maker isn’t free yet.”

Marcoff flashed him a smile, the altari’s pointed teeth showing. “But he will be. I am certain of it.”

Hump said nothing. False certainty was a luxury he could not afford. He didn’t even know what Loften would do once he was freed, if they let him go at all. To the rest of the expedition, he was their god, and they were eager for his return. But Loften had threatened all of them—the entire world. To Hump, he was a desperate, trapped man that thirsted for vengeance. His wife had been slain by the very people that had imprisoned him—people that were once his comrades, if not his friends. Hump tried to imagine what his mind would be like if that were him—if someone he trusted took Celaine from him and killed him.

He glanced at her, talking quietly with Emilia beside him, the two girls watching the distance. Was there any length he would not go for revenge?

His mind went to Godfrey. It was possible the traitor Chosen was out there somewhere, watching them. Waiting for them to make their move. Or perhaps he had already found the tower.

Or more likely he is nowhere near us, Hump told himself. He saw no sign of him, so all they could do was be cautious.

Acalin pointed ahead. “I take it the tower is our goal?”

Hadbur gave a nod. “Yes. Loften lies within. We will set up camp close to it. If anything’s still watching this place, they’ll notice us soon enough. Beasts have a habit of wandering in from the edge to pester past expeditions, so I do not doubt this one will be the same.”

They walked on in silence, all eyes watching the distance horizon for movement. On these plains, they would see anything coming, but that went both ways. The mountains were the perfect vantage points for the monsters that survived here to scout them. All it took was one hungry or greedy enough to come looking.

Nishari crept close to Hump’s side, unusually grounded, her tail low and her wings tight at her back. Her eyes swept the plains warily.

“She can feel it too,” Dylan murmured, keeping close. “This place is worse than the Remnant Realm, and she never liked it there either.”

“I think so,” Hump said. “Though at least she would fly there. She hasn’t stretched her wings properly since we entered the chasm. That never happens.”

“I can’t feel anything and I don’t like it here either,” Emilia said. “Only place more isolated than here was the black abyss beyond the veil.”

“Was quite isolated in the Remnant Realm too,” Bud said.

Emilia shook her head. “At least there we had warlocks for company.”

“We do seem to visit places like this too often,” Celaine said.

“We’ll need to cut back on that,” Hump said. “I know you don’t like cities, but this is too much just so you can avoid crowds.”

“I’d rather this than a city.”

“I don’t believe that,” Dylan said. “This place gives me the chills.”

Celaine smirked. “So do crowds.”

“Don’t bother arguing,” Hump said. “Celaine would fight a demon bare handed if it meant she didn’t have to stay in a city.”

Celaine slipped her hand into his and smiled. “Exactly. You know me so well.”

The walk to the tower was longer than it looked. With nothing around to gauge scale or distance, everything felt deceptively close. They’d moved for miles, the dust clinging to their boots and gear, grinding into everything. Nothing disturbed their approach. No monsters, no signs of life. Just the ceaseless howl of the wind funnelled between the towering mountain peaks, dragging sand across the plain in bring, stinging blasts.

Then, finally, they crested a long rise and the ground dipped into a wide basin beyond. Bud and Emilia were first to reach the top, walking ahead with Acalin. All three of them stopped at once, halting so suddenly it broke the steady rhythm of the march. Hump quickened his pace, concern spurring him forward. He climbed the hill, sinking into the dust with every step, until he stood beside them to be stunned just the same.

Gasps rose behind him as the rest of the expedition caught up.

The tower stood directly ahead, formed from cold, black stone, veined with glowing lines of essence that ran from its base to its spire, where jagged spikes bent toward the sky like twisted horns. It dwarfed even the palace spires of Elenvine. A monolith against a dead sky.

But that was not what held their attention.

At its base, coiled in a collapsed heap, lay the bones of a dragon. Its massive frame curved around the tower like a fallen sentinel, its ribcage cracked and broken, its spine twisted. The skull rested half-buried in the sand, but even what was visible was larger than a house. Its jaws, slightly ajar even in death, revealed enormous fangs, stained a yellow hue by time.

And power hung around it. its bones pulsed with the echo of magic that felt so pure that Hump could have mistaken it for divinity.

Nishari gave a soft, guttural rumble—a sound Hump had never heard from her before. Not fear exactly, but reverence. Hump placed a hand on her side, steadying her. He could feel it through their bond—curiosity, awe, fear… and something else. Like recognition.

She knew what it was.

So did he.

He’d felt this before—in his dragon blooding ceremony when Skyfire had come to him in a vision, and when he had stood before Algwyn, the first wolf dragon, and she had named him Ignarok.

And now this one. Though it was dead, without its scales or flesh or soul, there was no mistaking it. the power lingering in its bones was undeniable.

“A true dragon,” Hump said quietly.

No one disagreed.

“Do your people have any records of the battle that took place here?” Emilia asked Urella.

“We have only legends,” Urella said. “The dragon is named Orspeth. She is not the only dragon you will find here, but she is the greatest. The Maker chose this place to defend our world, and here he and his army fought to hold back the Destroyers. They were defeated, and the world shattered, but in his wisdom he found a way to save us.”

Hump forced his eyes away from the dragon and to the tower doors, though they looked more like castle gates. “What do you know of the dungeon?”

“Very little,” Urella said. “None that have entered have ever returned. The tower is built by the Maker. It is said that the dungeon is below, and that it is guarded by servants of the Destroyers.”

Hump guessed those ‘Destroyers’ were either the old gods or the Pantheon, either way their servants were bad news.

“I suggest we make camp for the night,” Hadbur said. “Get some rest. Then enter come morning.”

“No,” Hump said. “There is no point in us waiting. My party and I shall enter soon. Better right away than to risk an attack out here in the open.”

“We have travelled far, are you sure that is wise?” Hadbur asked.

“We’ve already discussed it, Captain,” Bud said. “Time is not our ally. Let us make camp, eat, and then we shall enter the dungeon. It is best we do not keep Lord Loften waiting after all.”

The meal went quickly. Hump had to admit, he was more nervous about this one than he had been about many of their troubles in the past. Godfrey was a factor—not knowing where he was or what he might be doing left a big unknown in every decision he made. At the end of the day, they just had to cross their fingers that the man didn’t involve himself before they were ready. As for Loften… they would need to figure out a way to align. If Hump couldn’t trust him not to harm the altari or betray them, he couldn’t release him. It was as simple as that.

But Loften was their way home. He was their way to the Path to Heaven. And he was the answers Hump had been looking for for so much of his life. The truth about the Pantheon, the gods, and the time before them.

Two hours passed in the blink of an eye. They said their goodbyes to Acalin and the rest of the expedition and took their place before the tower gates. The hollow eye sockets of Orspeth stared down at them. Hump wondered what colour they might have been when the dragon was alive. His eyes went to the door, and the rune upon its surface. Urella had explained that all he needed to do was provide it some essence and request it open.

“Are we all ready?” Hump asked quietly. “No second thoughts?”

After a round of affirmations from his companions and a confident glance from Nisha, Hump turned to face the expedition. They watched with eager eyes, even the prince’s usual arrogance gone from his face.

“May Iron and Rune give you strength,” Princess Urella said. “We shall await your return, Heralds. The hope of the altari lies with you.”

“Good luck to you all,” Acalin said. “Whatever happens, it has been an honour getting to know you.”

“And you,” Hump said. “We will see you shortly.”

With that, Hump turned and placed a hand upon the door. With an application of will, he pressed his essence into the rune upon its door. “Open.”

The rune lit up in blazing orange and red like steel fresh from a forge. Silently, the doors parted, and a dark stone room awaited them within. Hump didn’t hesitate, stepping forward alongside the rest of his party, a spell ready on his lips. The chamber was small and empty, but for a door across from them, and a statue at its side.

Hump glanced over his shoulder as the tower gates thudded shut behind them, condemning them to darkness. Yet before he could call upon Wizard’s Light, three candles over the door lit at once.

“It has been long since I have stirred,” a voice said, smooth as marble. Hump and the others startled, aiming their weapons at the statue. Its eyes opened, green eyes staring at them. “Who are you to disturb my rest?”