Land of Towers

The street was boiling. Cart wheels clattered on the cobblestones. People shouted. Horses snorted and clopped their hooves. Even the rain, usually quiet, joined the din of market day, intensifying the all-encompassing cacophony. I was thirsty, craving wine and cheese. Vendors heading to the market jostled me, rubbed me with their damp cloaks, and nudged me with wicker baskets, mindlessly heading in one direction. I didn't care. I spotted a tavern sign. "By the alabaster tower," the rickety sign read. I raised my gaze above the wet rooftops. No tower, nowhere in sight...

I pushed open the heavy door. It creaked tiredly. I stepped over the threshold and stepped into the darkness. I sat down at a table in the corner of the hall. The thin, bored innkeeper took my order. A moment later, a jug of red wine, cheese on an oak slat, and a knife were keeping me company. I fell into a reverie. I still had some time before the meeting.

The door opened again, and in the beam of light, I glimpsed a boy's silhouette. He glanced around the room, sighed, and turned back. It grew dark again.

I sat down and felt something nip at my left thigh. I looked into my coat pocket. The irritating object turned out to be a forgotten gift. A small book with blank pages. In other words, a diary. I don't like writing, and I don't particularly like telling stories either. But to pass the time, I began to remember how it all began. How my life had changed.

***

And it all began with a boy. He was a magician. Although, no, let's not get ahead of ourselves. He simply couldn't be put into any box with a label and description. He had an exceptional talent, he knew his craft, though he insisted no one had trained him. He was the greatest. Or at least he could be. It was people like him who founded the Academy.

The boy appeared in taverns and taverns, in towns and villages. He called himself the ambassador of the Land of Towers. Cheerful, open, blue-eyed, blond-haired, and tousled. He entertained and intrigued with stories of his homeland. Only one thing he refused to reveal: where it was. This question, always asked by those who had already spoken with him and those listening for the first time, invariably remained unanswered.

Few believed him. For could such a place exist on a continent, even one as vast and unexplored as ours? Hills covered with wild forest. Forests crisscrossed with paths leading to towers. Towers perched on hills. Tall and slender, each different, each more beautiful, each unique. Carved stone surfaces. Stained glass windows, alabaster and colorful marble staircases, openwork handrails shaped like wild vines.

Metal decorations. Walls clad in quartz and crystal, gleaming in the sun. And others are matte...

I can't tell the story like he did. Even though I saw them. Because it wasn't my land... I'm not a poet, only a healer. And more of the body than the soul. Although the two often clash...

To the point. It's easy to stimulate the human imagination. Rumors of treasures hidden in the towers circulated faster than a cheetah chasing its prey. The boy denied it. People began organizing expeditions. The boy wasn't safe. Expeditions began. The boy disappeared. Knights, mages, kitchen boys and wagons, horses and mules, and on their backs swords and plates. Others went alone, with a single backpack full of provisions. And everyone searched...

Time passed. The returns began. The cartographers should be most grateful to the boy, for during those journeys, many of the white palms on the maps disappeared. Many returned disappointed, many richer, and some not at all. But no one saw the towers on the hills.

So it fell silent... Stories taken seriously at first became legend.

And then the boy returned. He appeared sporadically; if before he had been everywhere, now encounters with him were rare. His tastes had changed. No longer the lit counter, but small, crooked tables in dark corners... That's how I met him.

I drank alone. And let no one ask why. I know I deviate from the stereotypical image of a healer. My gaze isn't delicate, warm, and soothing. I don't wear wide, flowing white tunics, headbands, snow-white hoods, sandals, beads, or mysterious pendants. I don't look as if I'm about to collapse unexpectedly like a dying gnome, then drift away on the wind in dusty form, to mysterious and intriguing higher purposes. My

lustrous hair doesn't spill over my shoulders. It's mousy. I cut it short. I have leather pants, a jacket, and a coat. A roomy backpack for herbs, a thin, strong rope I'd bought from the elves for a fortune, and other items. The kind I needed. A small axe, excellent dwarven craftsmanship, hung from my belt. Oh, and daggers in both boots. Besides, I'd heard I was pretty. But children don't really like me.

To sum up, I have no idea why he sat down next to me.

***

"May I?" he asked and sat down. It wasn't wise. He might get it wrong next time. The amount of light surrounding the table is usually proportional to purity of character, clarity of intentions, and transparency of dealings. Exceptions, as usual, only prove the rule.

He remained silent. So was I. I was searching for a solution to the problem that was troubling me at the time. I can't say how much time had passed, or what the problem was.

The wine and my thoughts were gone. I opened my mouth to call the innkeeper. The boy had beaten me to it.

"Wait. I'll get you some," he said, and before I could say anything, he quickly stood up and ran to the bar. Only then did my mind take a new path. When the blond man returned with two jugs of wine, I was almost certain of his identity.

"Is that you?" I asked, and as soon as the words left my mouth, I realized the question was, to put it mildly, foolish. I was worried; I guess I'd spent too much time just sitting around. Too many battles in the distant borderlands of the Small Kingdoms... Could intelligence be like brass? You rarely use it, so it doesn't shine?

My friends advised: "Open a practice, settle somewhere permanently, not necessarily in a big city; with your skills, you'll be useful anywhere and you'll be able to handle anything; how long can you wander through forests and fields, risking your life? What's the point?" Exactly. If only I knew...

Fortunately, the boy understood me. Except he'd misjudged.

"Yes. I am," he replied quickly. "But don't ask me where it is."

"I have no intention of doing so. Although I'm curious about you, I've heard a lot..."

He frowned and lowered his gaze.

"I suppose so." He looked away from the knots in the countertop. "But I don't want to talk about it. Okay?

Normally, I would have shrugged and shut up for good, however you interpret it. But there was something strange, indefinable in his eyes. A strange combination. Power. Request. Honesty. Pain. Pride. Superiority. Despair. Humiliation. Hope. I don't know.

"Fine," I replied. And I was surprised once again. I didn't retort. I had just answered. And on top of that, I smiled at him.

His eyes sparkled, and he relaxed.

"Tell me about yourself," he asked.

"No," I replied quickly.

"Am I bothering you? Are you waiting for someone?" he asked hesitantly.

Perfect manners. Like a court in the Old Empire.

"As for the first: no. As for the second: partially.

" "How can you partially wait for someone?"

I pushed the food toward him. And decided not to pester him. He didn't deserve to be treated badly. It finally lifted my spirits.

"Not for anyone, that's partly why. Three days ago I was supposed to head out into the forest. I want to gather some herbs. This downpour has put me off. I'll wait here until the weather improves. If I get caught in the rain in the forest, so be it. But I won't leave the city already soaked. I don't like it, that's all. I'm approaching the age where whimsy is slowly becoming appropriate.

" "Don't exaggerate," he replied familiarly, and like a foolish girl, I think I blushed a little. What the hell was wrong with him? "The sun's not in sight, but it's not even noon yet. Maybe it'll stop raining soon."

The conversation became more relaxed, the only question now being how long one could talk about the weather. I glanced out the window. Rain lashed against the dirty windows. Blurred shadows of hurried passersby... I turned my gaze back to him, wanting to ask what brought him here, and froze. He sat stiffly, his eyes closed, his lids fluttering. Small beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. And suddenly he opened his eyes, a radiant smile spreading across his face. Sunlight, reflecting off the wet tabletop beneath the window, illuminated his face.

"Actually, there's nothing keeping me here. Do you mind if I walk you a bit?

I heard somewhere that silence is consent. Let's assume that's why I sat silently. And with my mouth open,

the

azure sky was reflected in the puddles on the road. The ground had become completely soaked; after an hour's walk, my shoes were already caked with mud up to my ankles. The boy walked beside me. I managed to learn his name was Uohm. Finally, curiosity overcame the indifference that had been lingering in my heart for a while.

"Those towers you talked about... Are they tall?"

He sighed. It struck me as rather peculiar; after all, he used to talk about it willingly, to anyone who would listen. Now it seemed as if I wanted to know something; I'd have to drag it out of him. Strange.

"Yes." It seemed as if something inside him had snapped. And that was a good thing. "Some of them very much so. At least they all rise above the treetops.

" "Then there's something I don't understand. Hundreds of people, not only from the Republic, but also from the Small Kingdoms and all the other lands and corners I know, were inspired by your stories to search for them. No one found them. A dozen or so centuries ago, perhaps there would have been nothing unusual about that. But now? Our continent is measured length and breadth. We know roughly what our entire world looks like, even on the other hemisphere, across the oceans." I see two possibilities. Either your land is on the other side, or you're up to something.

Uohm listened carefully, his gaze roaming the treetops.

"There's a third possibility. They were looking in the wrong place...

" "Are you trying to tell me that your mythical homeland is on our continent?

" "Yes.

" "And all those hordes of treasure hunters and adventurers, wandering for months through every nook and cranny of it, failed to notice those tall towers? "

"Exactly. "

I feigned offense.

"Fine. No, it's not. If you feel like adding anything, let me know."

After that, we didn't speak much to each other. My brother had already disappeared beyond the horizon, but Sister's rays still provided some light. I began to look around for a suitable place to spend the night. The forest was already dense. We reached a stream. It was small, rather narrow, but it was trying to make a menacing noise.

It had grown from the downpour, and the water was slightly murky, as it usually does after rain. I spotted a small rise. Just right. "It's not far to the water, and if it rains again, at least we won't be flooded at night," I thought. We stopped and dropped my backpack on the damp ground.

"Okay, Mr. Walking Mystery. Let's pitch the tent."

The small package he carried on his back slammed into the wet moss. What could possibly fit in something so small and impractical? A change of underwear? I didn't investigate. I knew I'd probably find out soon enough.

"Can't you manage on your own?" he asked cheekily.

I stood with my legs slightly apart, supporting my sides with my hands.

"Hello, friend. We're going together, right? Would it be a good idea to help?"

"Don't get upset, there's no need. I was going to suggest you pitch the tent while I look for firewood. "

I laughed.

"You're witty... That's good, women like men with a sense of humor, you'll be successful when you grow up." It had been raining like crazy for days. Where in the name of blue demons are you going to find a piece of dry branch?

He stared at me wide-eyed, as if I'd spoken to him in Old Lentorian. Then he turned on his heel and headed deeper into the wilderness.

"Anywhere," came a voice from behind him.

***

I went to fetch water from the stream. It was cold and a little murky, but delicious. I could taste the metallic taste on my tongue. Then I pitched the tent, and when I was done, I took a few deep breaths. The forest smells so beautiful. Especially after a rain, when the ground is soaked. I unrolled my waterproof leather sleeping bag, dragged it outside, and sat down. I waited for Uohm to return, wondering if he'd manage the impossible and find something to light.

It would be nice to warm up by the fire before bed, but I wasn't getting my hopes up.

As I sat there, I began to ponder this sudden change in weather. The problem was, it shouldn't have come. At least not so suddenly. Several possibilities occurred to me. The most obvious one was unacceptable.

It was almost completely dark now, at least in this thicket. Concentrating, I didn't notice him return. He was sagging under his weight. A huge armful of branches clattered and landed near my feet. They all looked completely dry.

"What do you think?" he asked triumphantly.

"I'm proud of you. Will you light the fire yourself, or should I?"

He looked at me reproachfully.

"I'll manage."

He knelt down and began arranging a small pile. His back was to me, so I didn't even notice him igniting it all. A lively flame ignited with a joyful, quiet crackle. Uohm sat down beside me, satisfied.

"Tell me... why are you like this?

If it weren't for his age, I probably would have thought he was hitting on me. It all seemed a little unreal. But that's how my whole life has been. As if I were subconsciously searching for the limits of absurdity, constantly pushing them, but none were absolute. Luckily, I'd gotten used to it by now.

Who could I possibly tell all this to if not him? A blond visitor from a parallel time and space. That's how I have to think of him, or else things will go wrong for me.

" "What?

" "Cold. Aloof. Distant.

" "Because," was on my lips. I composed myself. If he wants to know, go ahead. I'll tell him two secrets at once. I raised my right hand.

"That'll be the most comfortable. Unless...

" "Okay," he replied, brushing his hair back from his forehead.

I touched him and gave him a vision. He was asking for it.

***

"Stop crying!" Lhea shook me again. "It's not the end of the world!"

She might as well have been talking to a wall. For me, it was. My last year of college. My last ball for the Day of Illusion. And I have no one to go with.

" "You know what he said to me?

" "I know, you've said it twelve times already. He's sorry, but you have to break up. You're not the first, nor the last.

" "That's enough! He didn't hit it off, do you understand? He didn't hit it off! So why on earth did he keep seeing me these past few weeks?"

Lhea sat down next to me and put her arm around me.

"Don't worry. I didn't like Purrg from the start. Luckily, you didn't sleep with him, so your conscience is clear. Besides, I'm sure you're not the only one who'll be alone tonight." Get changed, throw on the wreath, and we'll leave in half an hour.

"I'm not going anywhere!" I shouted, and with another spasm I collapsed onto the pillows.

At that moment, someone knocked on the door.

"Come in," Lhea said.

"Hello, how are you?

" "I'm fine, thanks Etheal. But she's not feeling well.

She's supposed to be a friend! She'll pay for this." I sat down and looked at the guy with bloodshot eyes. I'd never seen him before. Tall, slim, blond. Handsome, with a kind face. Suddenly, I noticed a small detail that immediately caught my attention. Violet irises. And instead of introducing myself, I let out a hoarse grunt. He looked intimidated. He offered me his hand.

"Etheal.

" "Selene."

"Nice to meet you." He turned his gaze to Lhea.

"Listen, you can lend me 'Extrasensory Communication' and 'Introduction to Telepathy,' just for tonight..."

"Yes, I can, but why do you need them for tonight?

" "I have to finish my essay, the day after tomorrow."

I saw a glint in Lhea's eyes. No, she won't do that to me...

" "You must be crazy! Today is the Day of Illusion ball. You're not going to sit in the dormitory and write an essay, are you?

" "I guess I will," he replied, confused. "I was supposed to go with someone, but... it didn't work out. So I think it's better if I just sit and write this essay. I'll get it over with.

" "No way." The wicked witch in the person of my friend gestured at me. "I'll lend you those books, please. Tomorrow morning. In return, you'll take her to that party today and cheer her up. Okay?

" "Lhea, come on," I said. "If he wants to write a paper, let him write one, don't bother him."

Then the door burst open and Vert burst in, followed by Monekus.

"Ready? Well, let's go, we need to take the big table."

Lhea stood up and straightened the folds of her snow-white abaya.

"I do. They haven't yet."

She pushed them out the door and left. Etheal stayed behind. When she returned in the morning, Etheal was snoring soundly on her bed. Surprisingly, she didn't blame him at all.

The

noise of the street rushed in, along with the wind that gently ruffled the curtain. I got out of bed, wrapping myself only in the sheet we'd slept under. I stood on the balcony. Blue sky. Midsummer. The grain below was turning golden. The glow from the whitewashed walls of the tower blinded me. I turned and jumped onto the bed with my knees.

"Etheal... get up, we'll have breakfast in the garden. It's so beautiful!"

He didn't even open his eyes. He just purred and pulled me close. His hand buried itself in my hair. I smelled his skin. I kissed both of my eyelids. In return, I heard a tender whisper.

"I love you...

I was happy.

"

We walked out of the shop and onto the street.

"Dad, take me to Opa!" Zan began to whine, as usual. The chocolate cake began to melt in his hands.

"Child, you're all dirty." I crouched down next to him. "Eat it all before you get completely covered in dirt."

"You said you shouldn't eat quickly because it's not nice.

Who gave him such a talkative voice, I had no idea."

Zan obediently stuffed the entire cake into his mouth and looked at me with wide purple eyes.

"Dad... Opa!" he uttered, spitting the crumbs onto the ground.

Dad made a quick gesture. The stains on his cotton T-shirt disappeared. He grabbed him under the armpits and with one smooth movement placed him on his broad shoulders.

"Etheal, you can't do that. We'll reach the fountain in a minute. He could wash up there.

" "Don't overdo it... Right, little one?" he asked his son.

"Mom, relax," Zan agreed. Traitors.

"Maybe when you have your own children, he'll relax. For now, I'm trying to raise you, child.

" "I'm well-behaved. Everyone says so.

" "Alright, enough of this discussion," Etheal said. "We're going to the fountain. You can wash up thoroughly there."

We set off for the center of the square. My mage held my hand. Zan hummed to himself. I looked around at the stalls. We reached the fountain.

A dozen or so children of all races and genders were splashing in the water. Mothers, grandmothers, and fathers sat on the bank, chatting and drinking from waterskins. Zan emerged completely soaked.

"Dad, you're still going!

" "Just try to dry him off..." I threatened Etheal.

"Selene... He can handle it himself. Zan, would you like to be dry?"

The little one looked at his father.

"I can. What?

" "Then close your eyes and think very hard about having dry clothes.

" "Why?

" "I'll tell you later. Do as I told you."

I watched with complete resignation. The little one closed his eyes.

"Already.

" "Thinking?

" "Uhm...

" "Now run your hands over your shirt and pants.

This was too much.

" "Etheal..."

He didn't let me finish. He put a finger to his lips. I looked at Zan. He gently stroked the shirt, then the pants. His hands touched them, making them dry. But not only that. The natural beige of the fibers disappeared. A moment later, my child stood before me in a red shirt and yellow pants. Who did I give birth to?

" "Daddy... Already?

" "Yes, son."

He opened his eyes.

"I did it! Daddy, see?" They've dried and changed color. Just as I wanted!

"Great, son."

The mage beamed with happiness. He kissed his firstborn's forehead and settled him back on his shoulders. I heard a noise. A wedge of guardsmen was driving into the dense crowd in the square. They were leading someone away. After a moment, I spotted the condemned man, a short man bound in a chain. He must be a mage, as evidenced by the henel collar placed around his head. His gaze was impenetrable. Suddenly, I heard a scream. One of the guards staggered and fell. An old man with a long, gray beard and a white hood raised a wooden staff into the air. Even in the daylight, its tip glowed brightly. The soldier closest to him, without a moment's hesitation, yanked his sword from his belt and plunged it almost to the blade into the old man's body. In vain. The tip of the staff touched the collar. It vanished, evaporated, as if it had never been.

That was enough for the mage. The torn chain links shattered and flew into the air. The cowering guards fell to the ground one by one. The condemned man began running toward us, the crowd parting before him in panic. Then I saw who was chasing him. A long gray cloak. A helmet gleaming with mirror-polished silver, covering his forehead, with drooping horns. Various names were appropriate. Monk of Xen. Guardian. Castrator. Mutant. All this happened in split seconds.

I was terrified. Etheal grabbed Zan, trying to pull him to the ground. He didn't make it.

The mage clearly realized the danger. He ran with all his might, straight at us. I was petrified.

I don't know what crime the condemned man had committed. The monk knew and clearly wasn't going to hesitate. He ran, spread his arms, and an arc of light formed between his palms. A powerful bolt of lightning crackled. The guard stopped. The mage ran straight at us. He seemed to sense the threat. When the Castrator unleashed his lightning bolts, the fleeing man's entire body flickered for a moment. The bolt slid over his shoulder, not losing any energy. Etheal tried to turn his back to him to shield Zan. I leaped forward. We both didn't make it.

A month later, I cut off my singed hair and left the city.

***

Uohm stared at me.

"Both?

" "Yes."

I wiped away my tears. It had been so long. I shouldn't have shown him this. This isn't a good story for the evening. I already knew I wouldn't be able to sleep. I wouldn't forget the sight of the burnt red shirt. No matter how hard I tried.

The boy added wood to the fire. I wonder what Zan would look like now...

"Stop," he said, and returned to his seat. He opened his bag. He pulled out two apples. "Want some?"

"No."

"Eat some, please."

I took the apple from his hands and suddenly burst into uncontrollable sobs. Why… He hugged me. The apple rolled toward the fire.

“Sleep,” I heard.

***

I woke up in the tent, in my sleeping bag, refreshed. My brother and sister were already in the sky, though not very high. I went outside. Everywhere dewdrops covered everything. Last night seemed like a bad dream, a distant memory. I tried not to think about it.

Uohm was bustling around the fire. He was cooking something in a cauldron.

“Good morning. Why were you rummaging through my things?

” “Because I thought you’d be happy to get some warm soup for breakfast. Besides, the cauldron was strapped to your backpack. I didn’t look inside.

” “Let’s assume,” I crouched down next to him. “What kind of soup is this? It smells good.

” “Crawfish.

” “When did you catch so many crawfish?

” “How did you sleep?” Yesterday we didn't have time to eat anything, and today we have to move on.

"Tomorrow too.

" "That depends." He took down the pot and set it on the ground. "You probably have spoons inside.

" "Yes." I stood up and pulled my sleeping bag out of the tent. I spread it by the fire. I was cold. I pulled the only spoon from my backpack. "We'll have to share it.

" "Eat first.

" The soup was really good. I had a hard time restraining myself from eating it all. I dutifully left half for him. He ate quickly. He stood up with the pot.

"Come on," I said. "I'll wash it."

I headed toward the stream. Uohm sat staring at the fire.

"You could fold the tent after all..." I said casually.

*

It didn't take us long to break camp. We returned to the trail. The path wound through the trees. It wasn't often used. The walk was easier than yesterday, for two reasons. Firstly, the ground had dried out a bit, and secondly, the path was becoming increasingly overgrown. Uohm was in a good mood.

We chatted cheerfully, and a bond developed between us. While the ironic quips we shared might have seemed unpleasant to an outsider, they weren't actually malicious. They were more of a form of intellectual entertainment.

He asked a lot about my profession. I explained everything to him. I told him about the herbs I was looking for, what they were good for. About the specific properties of some of them. About my own observations. Towards the end, he started urging me to write them down. I have nothing to do but play pen and paper... But then again... If this were to be useful to anyone, maybe someday...

The trail continued along the stream. I knew this route. It was well after noon when we decided to make another stop, in a large clearing I knew and liked. Many useful herbs grew there. If I were truly eccentric, I'd build myself a cottage here. At least I'd have the herb garden out of my head.

"Go get some water and find something for dinner.

" "Me again? Why not you?

" "Because I'll be working now. Look where

you're going." "I did. So what?

" "You're trampling on the curb, the dabwort, and the quince.

" "Oh. Well, I apologize. You're planning to pick them, I presume?

" "No, I'm transplanting them into neat beds.

" "I understand. I'm sure that's what they want.

" "I think so too. Go ahead and don't waste time.

" "So we're in a hurry?" he asked with feigned surprise, but he grabbed the pot and shuffled toward the water.

I got to work. I dug a knife, a spade, and leather pouches out of my backpack. I spread the latter on the ground. Then, tools in hand, I began my search. It wasn't long before I found at least half the herbs I needed. A few I hadn't expected to find in this place, and they pleasantly surprised me by growing here. It put me in a pretty good mood. When I stopped, I noticed the boy had not only brought water but was even boiling it over the fire. He quickly disappeared.

The weeds captivated me again. I began to think more and more seriously about moving here permanently. Birds chirped, suns shone, warming my back. The world is beautiful, stay a while. However, when I found a small, blue mandrake, I was completely stunned. I understand clematis and liverwort. Even the enormously overgrown darwulias, which, in a way I couldn't quite understand, had taken up residence in the shade of a huge spruce. But a mandrake? A blue one? With such a beautiful root? I hadn't counted on it being there. What's more, I hadn't expected it at all, because yes, we were hiking north, but I hadn't planned on a trip to the Wari Mountains. Who had seen a blue mandrake in a forest clearing? In this climate?

The suspicions that had been timidly squeaking in my head yesterday began to well up, like day-old chicks. I understand crayfish. Even a sudden change in the weather. But the mandrake had killed me. I decided to ask him directly what he had to say about it.

Unfortunately, Uohm had disappeared. The water was bubbling alone in the cauldron, and he was nowhere to be seen.

"It's obvious he went to the stream for salmon..." I said to myself. After that damned mandrake, I wouldn't have been surprised. I looked at her. It lay shamelessly on a leather pouch. "You shouldn't be here, you know?"

Root, though shaped almost like a human, didn't respond. I wanted to get back to work, but I couldn't. Reason demanded an explanation.

"Uh-oh!" I shouted. Silence. Clearly nothing living in this forest paid me any attention. "Uh-oh!!! Speak!"

Nothing came of it. The vision of a hundred-pound salmon gripped me completely. I headed toward the stream. I don't really know why; the boy might as well have jumped three hundred paces into the forest for coconuts. Since there was already mandrake... I started running.

The joke vanished from my mind as soon as I saw him. He lay contorted and trembling. Terribly pale, the whites of his eyes visible beneath his half-closed eyelids. Beads of sweat were visible on his forehead. I knelt beside him. Another shudder shook his body, his back arching. I grabbed his shoulders. What the hell is...

- Uh-oh! What happened? What's wrong with you?

His jaw was clenched, so he didn't speak, falling back onto the grass. Was it over, or was this just a pause? I wiped his brow. I had no idea what could have happened to him. Then another shock coursed through his limbs. He looked weaker, but the boy must have been in terrible pain anyway. I had no idea how to help him, so in the end I decided to simply ease his suffering. I stood up and, searching my pockets for even a scrap of tissue, trotted to the stream.

I found a cloth in the pocket of my left pant leg. I wet it and returned to him.

He was still unconscious. I placed a compress on his forehead, then slowly, methodically, set to work. To heal, one must discover the cause.

I entered a shallow trance. Following classical school recommendations, I placed my right hand on his chest and touched his temple with my left to close the circulation. Then I began scanning his body.

Nothing. No infections, no internal injuries, he had not been poisoned. My heart was racing, everything was normal, I could envy his condition. It seemed impossible.

Such an attack couldn't have come out of thin air. I moved the compress to the other, cooler side and started again, all over again.

Then another attack came, and I knew it. I'd already guessed he was a wild magician. I was astonished by his power, which is why it initially seemed impossible. Untrained, he theoretically couldn't have wielded such power. As usual, practice took a different path.

He wasn't sick. His mind drew power from his body. I'd seen cases like this before, it happened to those who wielded the art, but to those weaker who hadn't mastered it well. And never had it been so violent: momentary imbalances, recurring headaches, yes. But not loss of consciousness.

Except that none of them possessed such power. I quickly pushed aside the memory of Zan, whom I'd thought of at that moment. I watched Uohm calm down. His breathing evened out. I guess it was over. I hoped so.

He opened his eyes.

"Are you here?... With me?" he said. We were both surprised. I was surprised by the question, and what about him... another riddle to complete.

"Yes. Relax. Feel better?

" "Uh... I am. Sorry..."

He looked like he was about to start crying with emotion. That was all that was missing. He snuggled into me. I started stroking his head like a child. We drank

the

herbal tea and ate the crackers I'd brought with me for the trip. Evening was approaching. Uohm looked well. He was recovering quickly. I had to carry him to the fire on my back. I think he was a little embarrassed. Thanks to that, he owed me a debt of gratitude.

"Uohm, it's your turn today.

" "To wash up?"

"No. For the story. I know, I didn't really help you...

" "You did.

" "Not as much as I'd like. Anyone can put a cold washcloth on someone's head when they're shivering. You don't need to be at the Academy for that.

" "Can't we postpone this until tomorrow?"

That felt a bit unfair. I opened up to him. Completely. Although, admittedly, he didn't force me to. I myself wanted to share those memories with someone. After that accident, when I lost everything I valued, I severed all contact with friends and chose a lonely path through life. I brought help wherever it was needed, even if it wasn't safe. I tried to atone for that one, belated move. I hadn't protected my loved ones. But I had saved others many times. Strangers.

The only thing I already knew was that Uohm wasn't an ordinary boy. He wasn't even an ordinary mage. It was people like him, the Great Ten, who founded our Academy. At least, he was the closest to my imagination of them. That's why I wanted to learn more, not just as a balance of honesty. I was certain, I already knew, that the Land of Towers existed. I felt it. I'd seen what Uohm could do, and after all, he was only a boy. I didn't even dare to think about the possibilities of his land's builders. It must have been beautiful there...

"Yes. Let it be tomorrow."

I set to work. I had to sort the plants, tend them as best I could. I anticipated the journey would take at least another week.

However, the harvest on the first day was abundant. I tore off leaves, cleaned the roots, wondering if this sudden explosion was a one-off freak of nature.

"No," I heard.

"What?

" "It's not a one-off. I brought them here for you; I think they'll last, though the climate isn't suitable for everyone. Like a mandrake, for example..."

And so the cursed plant unsettled me for the second time that day. I seethed inside.

"I forbid you!

" "What?" he asked innocently.

"Read my mind!

" "Are you crazy? I don't read your mind. It's not hard to figure out what's going through your head when you're nibbling on that weed. I'm going to get some wood."

I froze, knife in hand. I must have looked menacing, because he stood up and quickly walked away. I had no choice but to believe him. The reason for this sudden outburst of anger was simple curiosity. Like any true woman, I couldn't stand being around a man full of secrets. My ancestral instincts had awakened, and you can't fight them. I tried to convince myself I didn't care about his towers, but that wasn't true. With each passing minute we spent together, it intrigued me more and more, and I grew more and more angry at myself for intrigued me.

I decided to be tough. If I didn't want to talk, I wouldn't. Only one tower mattered to me anyway. The one where Zan, Etheal, and I lived. I wonder who lived there now. From the rain to the gutter! Either nerves, or the pit... Let him come back with those sticks and talk to me, because thinking alone wasn't good for me.

The knife was in motion again. I started singing quietly to myself. It calmed me down. Uohm came back.

"You sing beautifully."

"Shut up."

He laughed.

"Really! I liked it.

" "Elves sing beautifully. And some humans. Stop it.

" He stoked the fire. A stream of sparks shot up high. The sky was dark and full of stars. The Spiral Eye watched us, hanging exactly in the center. The moon was nowhere to be seen.

"Have you ever wondered what the Eye really is?"

He smiled crookedly.

"The Eye watches us from the sky, watches and remembers, and when we die, it will judge us.

" "I said really...

" "The Eye loves us and cares...

" "Stop mocking me! And don't talk about love in front of me.

" "You're right. What do I know about it, anyway? No one ever loved me. "

There was an awkward silence.

"I'm sorry, Uohm. I'm sorry.

" "Don't apologize. It's not your fault.

"

We slept in the same tent, essentially a single-person tent. How he managed to get up before me without waking me, I don't know. I gathered myself and went outside. I looked at the trees and was speechless. This wasn't the forest I'd fallen asleep in last night. I wasn't in my favorite clearing.

Behind me was the wilderness. The tent stood on a small hill above the river. At its very edge stood some kind of gate. Two square poles, at least ten paces high and a foot wide. On top of them rested a beam of comparable size. The monolithic structure was made of gleaming navy blue metal. Uohm stood in front of the gate. He was dressed as usual, in high leather boots, dark trousers, and a thick woolen sweatshirt. A bag on his back. An ordinary boy. How deceptive are appearances...

I approached him.

"Where are we?"

"That's not important. You'll have time for questions in a moment. If you decide to move on. If not... You can be back in your clearing in a moment. "

I stepped past him. I touched the gate. It was cold and smooth.

"Lead the way."

He stepped through the gate and stopped two steps from the churning water. I followed him. Nothing happened. Subconsciously, I was prepared for some sensation that should accompany passing through the gate. But there was nothing. No warmth, no wave of cold, no sudden outburst of incomprehensible voices, no refraction of light. Nothing.

I joined the boy. Suddenly, at our feet, a bridge began to sprout. I can't describe it any other way. It was as if metal seeds hidden beneath the grass had suddenly awakened and come to life. Long, silver vines gleamed in the sun's light. They entwined and twisted as if they were truly alive. When the first one reached the other bank, its end split into a dozen small stems that quickly sank into the soil. A moment later, a bridge formed on both sides, gradually gaining rhythm and harmony, the plant patterns acquiring symmetry. Finally, the stems froze, some tangled in the supports and railings, others almost merging together, creating a horizontal plane onto which Uohm stepped.

I followed him, carefully placing my hand on the railing. It was cold and pulsating gently. We crossed to the other bank. I stood on the grass. And then the boy used his power for the first time with a gesture and a spell. He uttered a few words quietly, and I couldn't hear what he said.

With a sudden movement, he threw his arms out in front of him.

Everyone has seen heated air at some point, whether over desert sands or a fire. I was observing something similar. It rippled, like the surface of still water after someone had thrown a stone. I felt sick, as if I'd lost touch with the reality around me. The wave Uohm had unleashed was gaining strength, spreading in all directions. I felt nauseous. I couldn't watch it; the trees were bending, the earth was shaking, only the boy and I resisted the spell. Everything was changing, the surroundings taking on new colors. I closed my eyes, unable to bear the sight. When I opened them again, the waves had all vanished. First, I glanced down. Cobblestone? I looked up. I was standing on a stone path, disappearing between the hills. The landscape had changed slightly. The terrain was the same, only the trees were growing slightly differently. And there had been no towers here before.

Uohm looked at me expectantly.

"Would you like to take a walk?

"

I don't know how long we walked. When I looked back, the river shimmered in the distance. The path led from one tower to another, branching here and there. I contemplated the view. Personally, I hadn't heard his story about this place. Frankly, I suspected the whole story was a bit exaggerated. It wasn't. I'm not a storyteller, but what I saw at each bend took my breath away.

The towers were enormous. Tall, some must have been at least a dozen stories tall. Rather slender, they rose clearly above the treetops. Ornately carved, with both floral and geometric motifs, they were supported by marble griffins, alabaster unicorns, and dragons whose scales were carved in crystal.

Balconies rested on the backs of obsidian gargoyles. The walls were clad in stone slabs, and flecks of mica sparkled in the light. Intricate buttresses, openwork details. I'm speechless. Even if I tried to list the colors, I probably wouldn't succeed. Examples. A semicircular staircase, several steps wide, entirely made of amethysts. Copper wyverns at the door. The entire tower column gleamed with enameled black; small window openings; shimmering purple, translucent sills. I thought I knew what they were made of; probably some material left over from the stairs. A copper dome, free of any trace of verdigris, like the creature sculptures at the door, crowned the work. We move on. No regularity here. Asymmetrical dripstones of red coral covered the entire spire, in places branching off from the main body to create small balconies. Instead of a door, there was a curtain of a matching waterfall, water trickling down the steps, filling the moat surrounding the tower. The whole thing looked as if it had been formed at the bottom of the sea. Next, what could it be? Lapis lazuli?...

I left the path and sat down by a clump of heather. Low, tiny cumulus clouds brushed the tops of the taller buildings. Madness. Perfect madness. Absolute beauty, bordering on kitsch. Uohm sat down.

"Ask."

I had to concentrate. These views were a bit overwhelming.

"First, I'll apologize. I didn't believe it.

" "You see, that's often the case in life," he smiled. "It's not those who seek who find. It's not those who desire who receive. Revelations touch the unbelievers, and rightly so; why waste your energy on those who already believe?

" "Interesting. Except then they still don't believe. They already know.

" "Just like you. But you deserved it.

" "With what?

" "With how you love.

" "That's where you're wrong. I don't love anyone. Not anymore.

" "On the contrary. You have so much love within you. And you know how to give it."

I decided to think about it later. Other questions thrummed in my head.

- It's empty here, isn't it?

- Yes.

- Is there no one here?

- No.

"Why?

" "Nobody wanted to be here."

I laughed.

"What do you mean, nobody? Hundreds of people, elves, dwarves, set out to be here. I even saw a winged one in one of the caravans. A gnome, do you understand? And you're saying...

" "That they wanted to plunder it, not live here with me.

" "Didn't it occur to you that maybe, influenced by what you said, someone just wanted to see it?

" "Yes. You.

" "Me?" "I didn't.

" "That's why you're here.

It's okay. I don't understand. Maybe someday, when I grow up." The next question bounced off my tongue and flew at him.

"Who built all this?

" "Me.

" "Alone?!

"Yes."

I was stunned. I must have dreamed it all. I stared at him, waiting for further explanation. He took the bag off his back. One less secret. I'll soon find out what was inside. There it was. A black box. A small clasp on the side. Ten silver runes glinted on the top. Ten?...

He placed the box between us. He touched the clasp. It popped open with a soft snap. He lifted the lid.

Two myths proving true in one day was far too many.

"Take it," he said.

I took out the artifact. A foot long. Narrow, made of dull olive metal. Ten gems, five on each side. A ruby, an emerald, a diamond, a sapphire, and a black pearl. They weren't large, about a quarter of an inch in diameter. The gems were oval, like pebbles on a beach. At the bottom of each was a runic symbol. The emblems of the creators. The handle, an inch wide, composed of several doughnuts, reminded me of the larva of a large worm.

The Wand of Power. One of sixteen. The most powerful.

Everyone knew this legend. There were ten great magicians. Of both sexes, of all races. They were the first to be taught magic. They built an academy to share their knowledge. For the good of this world. They were misunderstood. The hunt began. The leaders of the Eye cult called for a fight against the evil that embodied the new. In this fight, everyone lost. The fanatics, because they perished. The leaders, because they lost their followers. The mages, because they lost faith in this world. We, because we lost the chance to build a better one.

The wizards departed. They left behind their apprentices, sixteen wands, and the Portal. The apprentices tried to continue the work of the masters, but they were no match. Nevertheless, the Academy continued to exist, and great efforts were made to rediscover the knowledge of the Great Ones. I graduated, and there I became a healer. This is where the facts end and speculation begins. In order: the wizards escaped through the Portal and took their wands with them. They escaped, and the wands were lost. They perished, and the wands too. They escaped, and the wands were destroyed. They went into hiding, to return when better times came. And so on. There were even more variations on the Portal's purpose. Fact is, no one has seen the Wand Academy since the Battle of the Wand Academy. The Portal itself has never been seen at all, and its existence has been repeatedly questioned.

Anyway, I was sitting on the grass now, looking at the coral tower, and in my hands I held the Wand of Power, the only one made by all ten of them. And what should I do now?

I wanted to give the artifact back to the boy. He slapped my hand away. He looked as if a stone had been lifted from his heart for a moment.

"No, keep it. It's yours.

" "It's the Wand of Power, isn't it?

" "Yes.

" "Where did you get it?

" "I found it.

" "Where?

" "In the forest, when I was little, alone, scared. It's not important. The important thing is that you take it.

He was right; I had many questions.

"Are you giving it to me?

" "Yes.

" "Why?"

He didn't answer. He grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the nearest tower. We stopped at a blue staircase.

"Look at it."

I stepped closer. I stood on the first step. Something crunched under my feet. I glanced down. The stone was crumbling. I walked closer and only then noticed that the entire tower wall was covered in a network of cracks. They were small, but in some places, larger pieces were already missing. You could put your finger through the wider gaps.

I went downstairs. Uohm was waiting and crying. He embraced me.

"See now? I tried so hard... And now they... they're falling apart.

" "Tell me... Why did you build them?

" "So I could be loved. I wanted to create a beautiful land where someone would live with me. A wonderful world. My world. Only mine. But no one like that has ever been found. I don't have the strength to hold it all together. It's too much for me. I can't handle it myself, you saw for yourself... So they're falling apart, piece by piece... "

He stepped away.

"Do you know why I gave her to you? Because you'll use her better. You, of course.

" "I don't think so, but even if... What will become of you?

" "Me?" He stopped sobbing and nervously wiped his eyes. "Don't worry. I'll manage."

He put his hands in his pockets and looked at the ground. He sighed.

"Keep a close eye on her. Take the box. I'll stay here. You'll make it to the gate, right?"

A piece of wall fell and shattered on the stairs. I didn't think twice. No, woman, you'll try harder this time.

"Oh, no, my dear. Your legs are much younger. You go get the box and carry it for now. Second, we're going back to the river, to the tent. Third, as soon as we get there, you'll do that thing with the air that made me want to puke, just to cover it all up again. Fourth, you'll take us back to that clearing where we camped yesterday...

" "No way, you'll manage on your own. You have a wand.

" "No way, I don't know how to use it. You'll have to teach me first. Get ready, I want to see them all before we leave. Even if only from the outside.

" *

We stood by the riverbank, ready to set off. In the light of the setting sun, I gazed at the towers in the distance. Darkening spires against the orange sky. I wanted to remember them just like that, because I suspected I wouldn't be back here anytime soon. If ever. Uohm activated a cloaking spell. For a few moments, everything began to undulate again. I studied the trees. They weren't just shifting position. It looked as if they were touched by the currents of time, flowing in both directions. Some grew at an accelerated pace, others shrunk. When everything calmed down, I looked at the hills on the other side of the river. All I saw was a dense forest. Just a forest.

"I left the bridge. Maybe it will be useful to someone.

" "I certainly will."

It transported us back to the clearing. We quickly fell asleep without even lighting a fire. The next day, we started building a house on it.

***

I looked at the table, at the small book. I don't know how long I'd been sitting here. Those I'd arranged to meet with were clearly late. And I don't have much free time. I have to go home this afternoon. I have a lecture for the apprentices. Tomorrow I have a trip to Kregg, where I'll have a meeting with the mayor about building another branch of my school. In the context of this story, it might seem strange; I know I was different once. My life has changed since the day I first saw the boy named Uohm. I've changed too. But not enough to ditch my leather pants for a tulle tunic. It's not that I'm still bitter, not anymore. I just need pockets.