The morning after his sixteenth birthday, Kroger sat beside Shyra in the garden, where the wind smelled faintly of lavender and distant rain.
"It's time you knew," she said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder.
Kroger looked at her, brow furrowed.
She took a breath, the kind that trembles at the edge of old wounds.
"There was a war, long ago—your world against the Demon King's forces. Your father was the High King, a noble ruler, powerful and just. Your elder brother was a warrior, fierce and unyielding."
She paused, watching his face.
"Both were killed defending the kingdom's heart."
Kroger's eyes darkened.
"Your mother," Shyra continued, "was captured. So was the royal advisor, a man named Elenor. They were taken during the fall of the capital, in chains of black iron."
"Why didn't anyone come for them?" Kroger asked, voice barely above a whisper.
"We tried. But the Tower had opened by then, and everything we knew was unraveling. Your mother was kept alive not out of mercy, but for leverage."
She looked at him. "The Demon King wanted to erase your line slowly, carefully. Not just kill you—but unmake you."
He stared down at the sword in his lap.
"Then he failed," he said, voice like flint.
Shyra nodded, pride and sorrow mingling in her gaze.
"Yes. And now, your story begins for real."
Later that evening, Kael and Arin stood with Kroger in the study, maps and relics laid out before them. A flickering orb hovered above the table, projecting a shifting layout of the Tower.
"The Ninth Floor," Arin said, pointing to a glowing city in the center of the projection. "The central city is there—Vel'Aran, the largest stable realm in the Tower. It's neutral ground, in theory. You'll find demons, spirits, and ancient beings living and trading there."
"And possibly information about my mother," Kroger added.
Kael crossed his arms. "You can't go looking like yourself. A human in the middle of a demon city? You'd be eaten or enslaved before you asked your first question."
Arin stepped forward and placed his hand on Kroger's forehead.
"Hold still. This illusion will cloak your aura and reshape your features. Not permanent—just enough to pass."
Green runes glowed across Kroger's skin, and slowly, his form shimmered. His hair darkened to obsidian black, and small curved horns sprouted subtly from his temples. His eyes took on a crimson hue, and his skin tone shifted to a muted gray.
Kael gave a low whistle. "You'll pass. Barely. Try not to talk too much."
Kroger nodded. "I'll follow your lead."
They packed lightly. Arin brought spell scrolls and charms. Kael carried two short swords and a throwing axe. Kroger took his ancestral blade, now sealed in a plain sheath, and wore a traveler's cloak of deep green.
Before dawn, they stepped through a rift opened by Arin's magic, walking into the veiled currents of the Tower. Light twisted as they passed, and the laws of time and space bent around them.
When they emerged, they stood at the gate of Vel'Aran.
The city stretched before them—colossal obsidian towers, glowing bridges, winged creatures soaring above lava-lit streets. Spires pierced the sky like teeth. Merchants with scaled skin bartered loudly in a dozen languages. Guards with molten blades scanned passersby.
A massive archway loomed ahead, the gates opening slowly as a beast-like caravan exited. Symbols etched in bloodstone shimmered above the gate: Vel'Aran, the City of Accord.
Kroger stepped forward.
He did not flinch.
They walked through the gates and into the heart of the Tower.
And with every step, destiny stirred.
End of Chapter Two