The city still groaned under the weight of rain, as if the sky had decided to cry forever. In every corner, fog slithered like old ghosts seeking shelter, while flashes of lightning shattered over crumbling rooftops, making windows tremble like frightened hearts.
Kaida, soaked to the bone, clutched the ancient book to her chest like a frightened child, watching the horizon through icy blue eyes, understanding the language of night more than the words of people.
"That tower... the one that devours souls," she whispered. She had heard about it from a mad old woman in the old district, who told her in a raspy voice: "Whoever approaches the Spire of Oblivion, first forgets themselves, then is forgotten by the world."
But Kaida didn't fear being forgotten. She feared that her brother would remain just a question in her heart with no answer.
That night, while following a map from the book leading to an abandoned underground tunnel, she met him for the first time.
He stood in the shadows, tall, with a face that couldn't be forgotten. His eyes were the color of storms, and his crooked smile revealed nothing and hid everything.
"Where do you think that ragged thing will take you?" he asked, pointing at the book.
Kaida froze, but showed no fear. "And who are you to ask?"
He laughed, but it wasn't a happy laugh. "I'm the one who knows that tower better than you could imagine. My name... is Renzor."
His name slid like a blade from his mouth, leaving a scar in the air.
Renzor was once a mage in a guardian sect that failed to contain the Spire's powers. Now he lived as an outcast—selfish, believing in nothing but himself. His reputation preceded him. They said he sold his own shadow for power.
"This book," he said, stepping closer, "is a curse walking among pages. A child like you can't unlock it."
"Why do you care?"
He didn't answer. Instead, he looked at her for a long moment, as if seeing something he hadn't seen before. Then he said: "Because you look like her…"
"Who?"
"A woman I failed to save."
Silence fell between them like a wall of mist. Kaida didn't understand what he meant, but something shifted. This man, harsh as he appeared, had cracks in his mask—old regrets etched deep, and eyes searching for something lost.
He offered a deal: he would help her reach the tower, in exchange for the final page of the book.
"The page that holds the word yet unread," as he called it.
She hesitated. It was clear he wasn't telling the whole truth. But she agreed, knowing deep down that this man, despite his harshness, might be the missing key.
They traveled together through drowning alleys, passed a dead market where the wind played a forgotten tune, and crossed a rusted gate into a tunnel known as the "Nightmare Passage," where weeping spirits were said to still roam in search of their voices.
Kaida began to see visions—shadows walking, familiar faces appearing and vanishing. The book throbbed with warmth, as if it were waking.
"I saw you in a dream," she said as they walked side by side.
"Most women say that."
"No… you were screaming, burning, and holding a child who did not cry."
He stopped suddenly.
"How do you know that?"
"I don't... maybe the book does."
He looked at her, and for the first time since they met, he looked like a man, not a shadow.