"Silence!" a blaring voice boomed in the circular chamber, followed by a chilling aura, instantly settling down the cacophony of ancient voices. Nine heads snapped to the head of a long, marble table. Piercing silver eyes passed over the nine elders at the table, and the man who possessed those eyes frowned at each member in turn for their outburst. He looked no older than twenty, had cropped hair as black as the night sky, a towering presence, and his skin seemed to shimmer with the same silver glow as his eyes.
"Sir Wales, pardon us for the interruption," an older man bowed his head slightly in respect when the silver gaze turned to him. His voice was melodious and brought peace once more to the tense atmosphere. "This news is unprecedented. During the last five centuries, not once has there been a task in which only ten Wielders can partake. The reward must be... exceptional, to say the least."
The man straightened his posture, the golden monocle placed upon his right eye gleaming in the bright light of the room. His hazel eyes brimmed with intelligence and were the only outstanding feature the man possessed. His broad forehead and large ears lessened his appearance and weren't befitting the man's position, not that anyone would risk pointing that out.
Elder Wales stared at the older-looking man for a few moments before responding, "As usual, you are correct, Sir York. However, it is distasteful for Wielders of our age and standing to lose their composure over something so inconsequential."
"That may be true for the Wales family, but for my sweet Kasimira, this is the perfect opportunity," an enchanting voice teased the ears of all those present. Ordinary men would have been smitten by the sound alone, but the men and women in this room were immune to the wiles of the youthful dominatrix. Though, like everyone in this room, her age couldn't be determined by appearance alone.
There were a few nods of agreement while the rest cast their gazes between the Grand Elder of the Vladimir Family, who'd just spoken, and the Grand Elder of the Wales Family. Micaiah Wales was not a forgiving individual, but here amongst the heads of the Descendant Families, it was unlikely that he would act against another. Still, Lucinda Vladimir was brave, and more than a few admiring glances were cast her way.
"Since the Ancestors were also quite clear on this matter, I shall approve of a postponement for the other subjects they brought to our attention," Micaiah stood and gestured for the others to do the same. "Each of you should have already chosen a Descendant from your family to participate in the final task. As per the norm, the vanquishing ceremony shall be performed in order of the Family Ranks. Wales, York, Manchester, Scot, Sinclair, Syward, Windawn, Grandhardt, Vladimir, and O'Connel. News of this is not to be spread until after the ceremony."
Micaiah placed his hand on the shoulder of one of the men next to him, "Simeon. I expect the Manchester Family to use their influence with the Church of Liberation to secure prisoners for the ceremony."
"It shall be done," Simeon bowed. The sound of lightning crackling could be heard with his movement.
"Then we shall take our leave. Wayne, you are to stay behind to inform the Lower Families of the tasks they must perform to complete the hidden achievements," Micaiah ignored the grumbling man and turned to leave. He and the other eight elders departed through a back entrance while Wayne Grandhardt made his way to the front.
The room shook as the giant of a man stalked toward the door, grumbling about having to handle the shit work. One massive hand pushed open the door while the other reached into a small alcove at the door's side. Tens of thick, glowing purple lines crept out from the cavity and extended to the many lights set about the chamber. He plucked a massive shard from the nook, and the lights slowly dimmed until darkness encased the room.
"Seems it's about time to replace this chunk," Wayne mumbled, tossing it to the side. "How a shard containing ten thousand Essence can be depleted so swiftly is beyond me. I'm sure Micaiah expects me to handle that as well."
Nathaniel stood in a large, open room with a balcony overlooking a spacious seating area. It wasn't dissimilar to one of the many opera houses spread throughout the city, but this had been designed with meetings and tournaments in mind. Grand tapestries with symbols of the ten families were draped from the rooftop, while flawless statues were carved into the face of the walls.
Some may have been captivated by the grandiose architecture, but Nathaniel was busy peering into the crowd below. Everything and everyone in this place was nothing more than a reminder of why he'd chosen to go to the Academy rather than study with his family's tutors. The excessiveness of it all just seemed so... confining.
"Nathaniel Syward!" He stopped scanning the crowd and turned to face the familiar, boisterous voice. An enormous sandy-haired young man stepped up beside Nathaniel and leaned against the balcony, grinning, "It's been a while, Syward. A little birdy told me that you were about to graduate. Have you given any thought to my offer?"
"I'm sorry, John, but I'll have to decline," Nathaniel said calmly, turning back to cast his eyes over the ever-growing crowd. John frowned but didn't pester the man. Nathaniel had always been this way, almost bereft of emotions while turning down any assistance from any of the Families, not just his own. John was sure the man wouldn't have bothered to show up if it weren't for the mandate.
"Ahh, that's alright," John grinned and clapped his hand on Nathaniel's back. "If you ever change your mind about joining the party, just step into any one of the Grandhardt Guildhouses and request to meet me. An arrangement will be made promptly."
Nathaniel looked up from the crowd long enough to nod, which was as much confirmation as John needed. He left to conscript a few of the other similarly aged Descendants while waiting for whatever announcement it was the elders needed to make. His offer had been fair, but Nathaniel didn't care to work with any of the Families if he could help it, not just his own.
"Too bad they're everywhere," he grumbled, turning to the crowd just in time to see a massive figure lumbering toward the center of the stage-like arena. John's elder grandfather, Wayne Grandhardt, stood at least seven feet tall, a sight swiftly noticed by all those present, and a hush fell over the noisy throng of young adults.
"Greetings, young men and women of the Descendant Families," his voice echoed throughout the cavernous hall, filling every cranny and making it impossible for his words to go unheard. "The announcement that I'll be making today will bring a great boon to the younger generation of each and every Family."
Whispers started amongst the gathered crown, and soon a cacophony of noise filled the hall. The Grandhardt Elder pulled a massive war hammer from seemingly nowhere and tapped the base of the shaft against the stage. A sound like clapping thunder filled the air, and when it faded, so too did the noise within the arena.
"If you can refrain from interrupting again, that would be greatly appreciated," Wayne's weapon disappeared, and he spoke once more. "Four new tasks have been reported on the First Floor, each of which we would like you to take advantage of."
He paused, likely waiting to quell any uproar, but none came. The man smiled and continued, "The first of the four tasks is to speak to the ghost that takes residence within the Academy, though from our understanding, the creature only appears when it wishes to. Luck will play a significant role in the first task. As for the following three, I expect every one of you to fulfill the requirements before ascending to the Second Floor."
"These three are to climb to the highest point on the First Floor, to reach the lowest point on the First Floor, and to reach the darkest place on the First Floor. All three of these tasks are located to the north of the Academy. A map has been prepared in the outer hall, and I expect you to study the locations and begin the moment you depart," he placed his hands behind his back. "Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, sir!" over a hundred voices sounded at once, and the Elder nodded, satisfied. He looked up to the booth, where Nathaniel and nine other individuals stood apart from the crowd, "Those who have been pulled to the side are to stay behind. The rest of you are dismissed. Remove yourselves from my sight."
The floor below exploded into action. Nathaniel observed from the balcony as the hundreds of individuals who'd yet to leave the First Floor scrambled to be the first out the door. It was painfully evident that each wanted to be the first to complete the missions, serving as another reminder as to why he didn't want to be part of the Family's games. It wasn't like the tasks were going anywhere. He observed the others in the room, finding seven males and three females, each scrutinizing the others.
Suddenly, the Grandhardt Grand Elder was standing in the center of the room. Nathaniel blinked while two of the women jumped back in surprise, and one younger man even yelped. The Elder glanced at the boy who'd made the noise and shook his head, causing snickers from one of the other young men.
"You lot gather round. This is to be kept between us, and my voice tends to carry if I speak at more than a whisper," Wayne spoke quietly, but Nathaniel could tell he was right. People were already glancing up at the booth curiously, likely having heard what the man said.
Nathaniel stepped forward, as did the other nine individuals present, and waited patiently. The Elder looked at each of them in turn before lowering his head and whispering to the group, "You should be proud. The ten of you have been chosen by your individual elders to participate in the final task."
A few ears twitched, and some smiles could be seen, but no one dared interrupt the Elder. When he saw this, he continued, "Only ten individuals can receive the reward for the final task, and there are stipulations in place that make it nearly impossible for others to achieve. You must kill a dozen individuals on the First Floor, but it must be done within the last hour of the century."
A few gasps could be heard, and Nathaniel shifted his gaze to examine the other chosen participants. The reactions were varied. The young man who'd previously yapped at the Elder's arrival had gone pale. One of the women also looked a bit anxious but didn't seem too torn up about the announcement.
On the other hand, there was a young woman, barely fourteen if Nathaniel had to guess, brimming with excitement. Her hair was white as snow, and her blood-red eyes shined in anticipation. Those traits couldn't be mistaken. She was one of the Vladimir children.
Aside from the girl, there were a few of his peers who seemed to be thrilled. Whether that was due to them being chosen or because of what the task entailed, Nathaniel didn't know. There was one individual who looked like he could care less either way. The Elder took all of this in faster than Nathaniel and had already begun to speak again.
"Members of the Church of Liberation will be bringing prisoners to the base of the stairs on the First Floor. Do not inform them of the rewards," Wayne eyed the young men and women in turn, making sure they understood. "We've informed them that we wish for you to experience the hardships you'll face while ascending. They will find out the truth after the fact, but by then, it will be of no consequence."
"Each of you will arrive at the base of the stairs an hour and a half hour prior to the century's end, where the prisoners and a representative from the Wales Family shall be waiting. You will act in order based on your Family rank before ascending to the Second Floor. Do any of you have any questions?"
The men and women glanced at each other, wondering who would be the first to speak up. Almost unsurprisingly, it was the young miss of the York Family, Emilia. Her hazel eyes shone with wisdom unbefitting of a woman her age, the spitting image of her ancestor. Also, like most of her family, she had no other outstanding features. She was pretty but not overly so, and if it weren't for the small horde of relics she wore, Emilia would seem to be an ordinary young woman.
"Elder Grandhardt, may I ask how the elders came to know of this information?" she queried hopefully, "Is it a newly discovered relic? Have we had a breakthrough in understanding the Tower's Cores?"
Wayne looked at the young woman in annoyance. It was clear that he hadn't expected one of them to ask a question, "You'll have to ask William about that, young lady. There are still a few secrets we elders must keep to ourselves, though I have no doubt that you lot will be some of the first in your generation to learn them."
"Yes, sir. I understand," Emilia mumbled.
Wayne scowled at the rest of the group, "Alright, that's it for the questions. You're dismissed. Have the other tasks completed before the turn of the century."
With that, he was gone. Nathaniel noted a gentle breeze, but he'd scarcely seen the elder twitch before the space became empty. He didn't have to be told twice and promptly made his way to the open door before John could ask to party up to perform the tasks.
By the time Nathaniel left the building, the many carriages that lined the streets upon his arrival were gone. There were a few stragglers, and a handful of young men and women could be seen walking in small groups, but the majority had long fled to the Central Market, where the stairs were located.
The afternoon sun of the Origin Floor shone over the pitched rooftops of the entertainment district. Tall spires stretched up overhead, casting the well-paved roads in shadow. Nathaniel turned toward the Central Market and strolled leisurely along the walk, ignoring the protests from his driver, who was waving from across the street.
This was what Nathaniel wanted, the freedom to do as he saw fit with his own life. His entire childhood, he'd been shackled by his identity. Even now, after cutting ties with most of his family, the Elder dragged him back into it. He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck... this was an opportunity that he couldn't bring himself to refuse.
If only ten individuals could receive this achievement, didn't that mean their Origin Cards would be a cut above the rest? To live with the liberty he desired, Nathaniel would need to be one of the most powerful individuals on any Floor at any given time. An exceptional Origin Card could help him achieve that goal, and if he had to accept his great uncle's gift for that...
"So be it," he muttered and kicked at a loose piece of concrete into a nearby alley just as the streetlights began to flicker. Thousands of intricately carved grooves began to emit a soft purple luminance as energy was transferred from the local church and spread across the district.
Nathaniel traced the grooves with his eyes but didn't stop to ogle. He shook his head and glanced at the fancy lamp posts and shimmering signs. All of this was just another cage. A way for the church to charge citizens for the convenience they provide, even if it wasn't asked for.
He refused to be part of it. What he wanted could only be found on the upper Floors. If he were strong enough... If he had a team that was just as driven as him... One day, he would be high enough that the world couldn't reach him.
The tightly constructed facilities spread out as he rounded the corner, leaving the entertainment district and stepping into the outskirts of the Central Market. Immense structures made up a vast circle around the outer edge of a wide street. Hundreds of smaller shops made up the inner perimeter and looking through the gaps between them, one could see many carts and open-air stalls lined neatly along the many walkways.
If a Climber wanted to sell their wares for as high a price as possible, this was the place. Anyone could rent a space without a license, but only licensed individuals could set up shop permanently around the inner perimeter of Central Avenue.
The more prominent buildings on the outer rim were for the more influential factions. Along the vast highway, one could find establishments belonging to the two Churches, the top Guilds, the Merchant Guild, and the Central Hub for the railway that extended to all of the outer cities. Needless to say, this was a district that never slept.
The purple grooves along the walls and pavement were so abundant that the area took on a purple ambiance in the evenings, earning it the title of the Amethyst District. Nathaniel waited for a horse and buggy to pass before making his way across the street and down one of the many small avenues leading to the center.
A few shouts entered his ears as he walked by the stalls, weaving his way through the throngs of people stopping to stare at the Climbers' wares. After walking the mile or so to the center, he found himself standing before a large porcelain building. An iron fence surrounded the structure, with armored guards standing every few yards.
"Identification," one of the guards stepped forward and held out a piece of Demon Glass for him to see. Nathaniel slipped a chain from around his neck, grasping the metal card hanging from it and tapping it gently to the glass.
"Mister Syward," the guard nodded and slipped the Demon Glass back into his breast pocket. "You're clear to go. Please take care, and may the Tower's light shine upon you as you ascend."
Nathaniel grunted in acknowledgment and entered the porcelain building, stopping once more to put his name on the registry before ascending the metal steps. When he stepped onto the First Floor, he swiftly left the Academy and looked up at the night sky. He could see the stars in all their glory with not a single lamp post to dull his view.
This was all the proof he needed. Ascending the Tower was the path to freedom.
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