I looked at the font where I’d gained my attunement, where the Voice had procured a magic weapon by trading in a terrible one. I really, really wanted to pour everything from my backpack in there. Somehow I doubted the goddess would appreciate that, though.
I settled for emptying out my flask of water on the floor of the room and dipping it into the pool. I filled it to the brim.
Would the goddess be offended by such a small thing? I hoped not.
The room shook again, a fist-sized chunk of stone falling from above and landing inches from where I stood.
I’m going to hope that was a coincidence. Either way, it’s time to go.
I stoppered the water flask, put it in my bag, and moved with purpose out the tower doors.
***
I was out of the tower.
I took a minute to just close my eyes and breathe.
I survived.
It felt good to be alive. It felt even better to finally have some tangible progress toward getting Tristan back.
It was going to be a long journey, but I’d finally taken a step closer to reuniting my family.
Standing here isn’t going to get you any closer, though.
I opened my eyes.
The sky was dark overhead, and I could see clouds gathering. Fortunately, I didn’t have to worry about rain on the way home. The environmental shield that covered the city was barely visible from my vantage point, but I could see the telltale shimmer a few hundred feet up.
I knew what rain and snow were intellectually, but I’d never felt them. Maybe I’d get a chance someday. For the moment, I had more important things to concentrate on.
There were no guards next to my particular exit, which was a bit of a surprise. I knew I’d probably taken a non-standard route through the tower, but I still expected to be escorted by guards to a nearby celebration area as soon as I finished. That was standard procedure, as I understood it.
I could see the tall celebration tents in the distance and a couple people gradually approaching them.
I took another minute, gathering my thoughts and checking the contents of my pack. At a glance, everything was still there. I still had the sword with me, too.
The book’s writing remained intact. Good.
It took me a moment to realize that I remembered writing in the book, and I knew why I was checking it.
My memories hadn’t been erased. Not yet, at least.
Was it because I had taken a non-standard exit? Or perhaps because the Voice had helped me somehow? I wasn’t sure. And I certainly wasn’t going to tell anyone. Not yet, at least.
I took a moment to draw a crude map of the rooms I’d explored in the tower. Just boxes with a word in each to show what they represented. I’d write more about them later if I could, but I didn’t think the map would help me much for a couple reasons.
First, the tower was always changing. Even if I walked in the same door it was likely I’d end up in a completely different place. The connections between rooms would change, too.
Second, and more importantly, I couldn’t go back in through the same gate. The Gate of Judgment could be used precisely once per person. Next time I entered the tower, I’d have to use one of the other, far more dangerous entrances. The ones designed for climbers who were intent on reaching the top of the tower.
If I wanted to survive going into the deadlier parts of the tower, I’d need to learn how to master my attunement. Even Vera, who had an attunement that wasn’t built for combat, had proven that she was vastly more capable than I was. I couldn’t have possibly survived that spire guardian room without her — and that was just a single room on the first floor.
Now that I’d completed my Judgment, my highest priority was to train. To study. To get stronger.
And when I was ready, I’d start climbing to the top to save my brother.
I decided that I’d eventually try to write up my notes on the tower rooms and publish them for future tower entrants. I wanted to do anything I could to try to prevent others from failing their Judgments.
But for the moment, I had more far more pressing concerns.
I’d seen a lot of flashy magic over the years. My father and mother were both expert combatants, and I’d seen both of them absolutely demolish people in structured combat tournaments.
But neither they, nor anyone I’d ever met, had a fraction of the power that Katashi did. Visages could — and had — leveled cities. It was very likely that what I’d seen in his battle with Keras was just a fraction of his power, probably to prevent collateral damage.
If I’d just made him angry, I was in very serious trouble.
I headed toward the celebration tent, but I didn’t feel much like celebrating.
There were two Soaring Wing guards at the entrance to the tent. They gave me cautious looks as I approached.
One of them, a woman with a blue attunement mark glowing softly on her right hand, gave me a hard look. “Where’d you come from?”
I pointed at the exit where I’d emerged.
“Huh. Haven’t seen anyone come out that gate in years.” She narrowed her eyes, and then waved her rune-marked hand over my forehead. Looking at her partner, she said, “It’s real. He’s attuned.”
The other guard nodded, turned toward me and gave me a friendly slap on the shoulder. I winced — I wasn’t much for physical contact — but I tried to give him as pleasant of a smile as I could manage.
“Congratulations, kid. You should go get yourself a drink! If your test was anything like mine, you probably need one. And don’t let anyone hassle you about your attunement.”
What’s that supposed to mean?
It occurred to me that I hadn’t actually checked which attunement I’d picked up. I didn’t exactly have a mirror.
“Uh, thanks.” I turned my head from one guard to the other. “Can I go in?”
“Oh, ‘course you can. Gotta make sure you fill out your papers before you leave, too. That’s in the back.” The woman gestured toward the back of the tent, where I could see some tables stacked with paperwork. Bored looking adults were manning the tables, giving instructions to the teens my own age sitting or standing nearby.
In the middle of the tent, though, people were celebrating. Newly-attuned teenagers were dancing, carousing, and some looked to be having their first taste of alcohol.