The sun was obscured by clouds in the sky, and a cold breeze swept through the city. The city was blanketed in snow, a welcome change from the usual scorching heat and sand that typically dominated the landscape. Tharos sat on the roof of a rundown house, his hair and cloak covered in snow, enjoying the cool winter air and the sensation of snowflakes melting on his skin. It had been years since the city had seen such heavy snowfall, and Tharos relished the change.
It had been several months since Tharos had visited the archives, and he had spent
half that time poring over the information he had gathered. Taking a break from his work, he had spent the past month setting up the city’s more conventional defenses, which surprisingly still functioned. However, he knew that the more mystical defenses of the city would be a challenging task to tackle.
“I wish Vartark was here at times like this; he would know what to do.”
Tharos was knowledgeable in various subjects, but his understanding of arcane magic was limited, unlike Vartark who had a natural talent for it. Born under the sign of Balance and blessed by the god of knowledge and wisdom, Tharos’s life path, including his interests and hobbies, was predetermined from the day he was born.
His people, despite their advancements in magic and technology, were paradoxically enslaved by esoteric beliefs such as Astrology and other forms of mysticism. They believed that every minute detail of a person’s birth held profound meaning and purpose, shaping their lives accordingly. Personality traits, skills, talents, and even career paths were believed to be dictated by fate. While there was some truth to this, especially in terms of magical affinities, Tharos often found himself in conflict with these beliefs during his younger years. He would question and rebel against the idea of being constantly told by his elders about his predetermined role in life.
“The gods created us in their image, and they made you with a purpose in mind, and this purpose gives your life meaning.”
Nonetheless, Tharos couldn’t shake the feeling that his current situation was either destined by fate or a consequence of his own decisions. This was a question he would need to contemplate further as he concluded his reflection.
Tharos sat down, brushing off the snow from his clothes, and began to carefully polish his new sword. The blade was long, straight, and double-edged, crafted from a metal that was unfamiliar to him. It differed from the metals used by elves or dwarfs, being both lighter and stronger. The design of the sword was practical and balanced, unlike the intricate elven designs or the sturdy dwarven ones. After finishing the polishing, Tharos tested the sword with a few swings. It felt heavy on his wrist, requiring more power and force than his usual swords. He realized it could be wielded with two hands for greater impact, making it a versatile weapon. After practicing with the sword for a while, he sheathed it in its scabbard. Next, he picked up a small, rounded shield made from the same metal as the sword, followed by two larger, straight daggers. These daggers were different from his usual curved ones. Lastly, he took a bow with a unique design that allowed the arrows to fly farther than he was accustomed to, almost as if they were blessed by the wind itself.
“Will these weapons greatly assist me in defending the city, though?“
Tharos turned his head and fixed his gaze on the sorcerer tower, realizing that it would be quite challenging. Through his research, he discovered that in order to activate the more mystical elements of the city’s defenses, he would need to ascend to the top of the sorcerer tower and activate them from there. However, this task was no easy feat. Even in the bustling city, the sorcerer tower was a perilous place. Its magical traps and defenses swiftly dispatched anyone foolish enough to approach without invitation. Those fortunate enough to be killed by these defenses were considered lucky, as the unfortunate ones encountered the various creatures bound to the sorcerer’s service. Tharos typically steered clear of that location, but the urgency of the situation compelled him to act. If he didn’t activate the defenses, the entity lurking beneath the city could break free into the world above. Despite his lack of connection to the current era or its inhabitants, condemning them to a terrible fate went against his principles, which he held steadfast even after countless years. However, charging in recklessly would only lead to his demise, and even his extraordinary abilities wouldn’t guarantee his survival.
“With luck, the defenses and traps may have deteriorated over time, but the creatures remain a concern.“
Tharos shook his head at the thought
“What if the creatures I came across in the archives were actually creatures that had managed to escape from the tower?”
The idea made him anxious about the contents of the tower, but he knew it would be unwise to jump to conclusions without evidence. Tharos stood up, descended from the building he was perched on using a rickety ladder made of rope and loosely attached wooden planks, and walked through the snow-covered streets towards the tower. Unbeknownst to Tharos, a dark figure high above in the cloudy sky was watching him with hungry eyes.
