Surrounded by gray bricks, carefully placed to form a circle along with the height that made the tower. A desk of old wood, splinters along the edges so sharp you could have them buried in your skin if you weren't careful enough.
A man of the Hir-Soger race stood, pacing around the room in circles, his hands behind his back, taking step after step, looking down at the floor, lost in thought. In monologue.
"We live in the continent of Bambularia, land of diverse ecosystems, cultures and weather. Up north are the Kortarians, their kingdom the continent's capital. Not the richest nor the most culturally important, simply ascended to power via neutrality and deals, along the fact their geography is beneficial.
"Had it not been that their southwestern plains had filled with water, becoming the Kortarian gulf, they wouldn't have the power they do today.
"If I was given the power, and the resources..."
He looked over at a map he had pieced together on his wall, the paper was a dark, creamy color, some edges looked as if they were burnt, the map was drawn using black ink for the general land shapes. and charcoal for the finer details.
"I'd pick Kamidralia at the west of Kortaria, or Galyscia at the far northwest of the continent as the capital. Kamidralia has objectively the finest most historically rich culture of all the countries. Galyscia earned and climbed its way through the ladder of wealth and power, from a poor land ruled by indigenous tribes to the economical hotspot of trade of the entire continent!
"What god did the Kortarians praise? It started with a K... No, stupid, all of them start with K.
"Ah, it was Karkano, right. This reminds me."
His vision flicked toward the southeast of the continent.
"These islands, the Kuzurian archipelago... what do they even do down there?"
Rummaging through his piles of books and notes, he tried to find a single textbook that explained what even went down there. In his 16 years of living, he had never heard about anything going on there.
I'll have to ask A'cci for a book about Kuzuria.
Knock. Knock.
"Hm?"
There were some knocks on his door, he walked over to open it.
"Your afternoon refreshment is here, your highness. I've requested your favorite gingerbread, along with this herbal tea that the king insisted on bringing you."
"Thanks..."
"He mentioned your Initiation is next week, are you ready for it? The quartz is already being pulled from the Yatara, so your energies must be at 120%!"
Do I really have to do it? The Initiation was a tradition that began long before the kingdom of Geortaria was established thousands of years ago. Every generation has had to go through it.
"It'll be my first time witnessing an Initiation, I must say, I'm quite intrigued."
The man let out a sigh of disappointment. "From what I've heard, its not even that interesting." He looked down at A'cci who has about a head shorter than him.
She was wearing a blanket-like cloak of a grayish color with a completely plain design that reached down halfway through her upper arms. Below was a contrasting white tunic that covered her from chest to her feet, being just long enough for it to not drag on the floor, but long enough so that her feet were only a mere suggestion if you looked at her at a simple glance.
"How come? The entire living K'onoma lineage will be there! There's no way an event of such scale can be disappointing!"
"Yeah, on paper it sounds cool...
The initiation was a ritual for the god that looked down and protected the lands of Geortaria; Kurviz, god of death. This ritual was what gave the K'onoma their signature eye color a bright orange-red that even seemed to glow in the dark, said trait being what differentiated a non-initiated K'onoma to an initiated one.
Currently, the man's eyes were a dull gray, as if they had forgotten their own color. A rare case, as the K'onoma have mostly had black eyes before their Initiation, but it just seemed to be a genetic anomaly with him.
"In reality, its no different than going to church for mass, but you're the spotlight for a couple minutes.
"Oh, so our god Kurviz, might he protect us from above, won't be descending from the astral plane or something?"
"I don't think Kurviz has a physical form, although, according to what my father, the king has said before, you can feel Kurviz's prescence. In fact, I think the entire room can feel it."
"See? It's much more interesting than you make it out to be.
A'cci laid down the gingerbread and tea on the prince's desk, both of them had been on a silver plate A'cci was carrying around. She placed them with her trained gentleness, just to show that she had been doing this her entire life.
"You know, I can't imagine you with the red eyes the K'onoma have. Gray looks much better on you."
"Well if the ritual fails, I'll keep my gray eyes."
"Yes, but you'll also be disowned if it fails, and you're the first single child in 10 generations. Don't screw this up for the king."
The prince had a grand total of 8 different uncles and aunts. His father was the oldest sibling, meaning he inherited the crown. His grandparents had it even rougher, the two families combined were 40 different people.
A'cci stepped out of the room with her silver plate in hand.
"Do you need something else, my highness?"
He remembered, the book he needed to ask for.
"Yes..." He rubbed the back of his neck, despite being a prince he was born shy. "Could you get me a book about the Kuzurian archipelago."
"Yes, your highness," A'cci gave a small reverence, followed by a lighthearted chuckle. "Ah, you and your endless pursuit of knowledge, in these 16 years I've been serving you, you haven't changed a bit."
"If I can't escape my tower, then I must escape to the books."
She smiled and made eye contact with the prince.
"Your highness, no... too formal," she cleared up her throat as if the words she was about to say had some weight to them. "Hyde. I know it might seem rough. But you've grown into a smart man," she stepped closer, gently grabbing Hyde's left arm. "When the king passes away, and you earn the right of calling yourself king, and going out of the castle. Promise me, we'll go travel the entire continent. I've heard you talk for hours about geography, geology, sociology. But I want to see all your knowledge in practice."
She turned back, stepping out of the room and shutting the door behind her.
A'cci had taken care of Hyde for the past 16 years, when she was hired by the crown for said position, she was only 15 years old.
Hyde and her had seen each other grow their entire lives. She was the closest thing Hyde had to a sibling.
He stood for a long moment, just staring at the door, imagining his life after his dad passed away, how his coronation event would go, how smelling the dirt after a rainy day would feel like, how travelling with A'cci through the entire continent would go.
Not a goal of power or money, but of self-fulfillment.
Hyde turned from the door, his gray eyes settling on the narrow window that punctuated the curved wall of his tower. The afternoon light filtered through the thick glass, casting distorted shapes across his worn floorboards.
Below him, the Geortarian kingdom sprawled outward, precisely like the map he had on his wall.
The castle sat upon a hill, from this height, the people looked like ants. Smoke came out of the bakery's chimneys, farmers tended to plots of crops.
My father was healthy, vigorous, even. He had ruled for thirty years and showed no signs of slowing. I could be waiting decades for him to pass away, for me to earn my freedom.
I've read about petrichor, but I could never stand in an open field and watch a storm approach. I could name every major trade route on the continent, but I've never walked a single mile of them.
The gingerbread sat untouched on his desk. The tea stopped steaming.
Hyde remained at the window until the light turned amber, then orange, then began its slow surrender to dusk.
He turned from the window to the far corner of his room, a bookshelf stood there, crammed with volumes, histories, geographies, atlases, treatises. His fingers found a particular book, a thick thing bound in faded leather with no title on its spine. He pulled, and a soft click came.
The book had been split in half, revealing a blade of black obsidian, its edge impossibly thin, about the size of a hand.
Hyde took it, the blade feeling cold against his palm, holding it for a long moment.
He drew the edge across his left palm.
"All that is divine."
The cut was clean and immediate. Blood welled up, dark in the failing light, and began to drip onto the floorboards.
Hyde looked down at the small puddle of blood that started to form.
"All that is true."
The blood continued to drip, nothing happened. The room remained exactly as it was, Hyde stood there for a full minute, watching his blood seep into the floor.
Then he wrapped his bleeding hand in a cloth from his desk drawer, returning the obsidian blade to the book-box.
He sat at his desk, picking up a piece of cold gingerbread, eating it while staring at his map of Bambularia, the blood had already stopped seeping through the cloth.