Kaelen, a disgraced knight who had traded his sword for a blacksmith’s hammer, stood at the base of the monument. He wasn't there for the treasure rumored to be at the top, nor for the divine favor the priests promised. He was there because his daughter had been "called"—drawn into the Spire’s glowing entrance like a moth to a flame, along with dozens of other children.
Kaelen didn’t use a legendary blade to win. He used the heavy, soot-stained hammer from his belt—a tool of creation, not a weapon of war. He struck the glass throne, not with hatred, but with the rhythmic strike of a man shaping iron. Clang. Clang. Clang. Spire of Glory
In the Chamber of Valor, he saw himself as the hero he had once dreamed of being—untouchable, adored by the masses, his failures erased. To pass, he had to reject the vision, embracing his scars and the quiet, dusty life of a smith. In the Chamber of Wisdom, the Spire offered him the secrets of the stars, but only if he let go of his "mortal attachments." Kaelen, a disgraced knight who had traded his
With every strike, the "Glory" faded. The illusions of grandeur shattered. The white stone turned back into common granite, and the stolen children awoke from their trance. Kaelen didn’t use a legendary blade to win
- By kievY
- By StefanN
- By lennarte