The Woman and The Tower

The tower was an anomaly, its black stone an unnatural contrast to the golden hues of Veridion. It stretched high into the sky, its surface smooth and featureless, save for faint runes that pulsed faintly in the dimming light.

Elias felt the melody stir within him again, faint but deliberate. He didn’t know why, but he was certain the tower held some connection to the harp—and to the woman in black.

As he wandered the streets, Elias kept his ears open, hoping to catch any mention of the harp or its legend. Most of what he overheard were mundane conversations about trade routes and taxes, but occasionally, a whisper of something darker crept into the air.

“They say she’s here again,” one merchant murmured to another as Elias passed.

“Who?” the other asked, his voice low.

“The woman in the black cloak. The one who—”

The voices dropped too low to hear, but Elias froze. His pulse quickened as he turned to confront the merchant, but when he looked, the pair had already disappeared into the crowd.

He clenched his fists, his frustration mounting. If she was here, he needed to find her.

As night fell, Veridion transformed. The bustling marketplace gave way to shadowy corners and dimly lit taverns, where the murmur of secret dealings replaced the daytime chatter. Elias found himself drawn to one such place: a small, unassuming tavern tucked away in a narrow alley.

The air Inside was thick with the scent of smoke and spilled ale. A group of men sat at a corner table, their laughter loud and grating, while a lone minstrel plucked a melancholic tune on a lute.

Elias approached the bar, where a grizzled man was wiping down a mug with a dirty rag. “Looking for someone?” the barkeep asked without looking up.

“Maybe,” Elias replied. “Have you heard of a woman in black? A harp?”

The barkeep paused, his movements slowing. He looked up, his eyes narrowing. “That’s a dangerous question, stranger.”

“I’ll take the risk,” Elias said, his tone firm.

The barkeep glanced around, then leaned closer. “People say she’s been seen near the tower,” he whispered. “But if you’re smart, you’ll stay away. That place… it’s cursed. Always has been.”

Elias’s jaw tightened. He had expected danger, but hearing the confirmation only solidified his resolve. “How do I get in?”

The barkeep shook his head. “You don’t. The gates are sealed, and the soldiers won’t let anyone near it. Even the brave ones don’t come back.”

Before Elias could press further, a hand clamped down on his shoulder. He turned sharply, ready to fight, but stopped when he saw the figure before him.

She was young, her face half-hidden by a hood, but her piercing green eyes locked onto his with an intensity that sent a shiver down his spine.

“You’re looking for the woman in black,” she said, her voice low and steady. “I can help you find her.”

Elias studied her, wary. “Why would you help me?”

“Because I want her dead as much as you do,” the woman replied, a flicker of pain flashing in her eyes. “Meet me by the western gate at dawn. If you’re serious, we’ll talk then.”

Before he could respond, she slipped into the crowd and vanished.

Elias stood there for a moment, the weight of her words sinking in. The woman in black was here, and now he had an ally—or so it seemed.

As he left the tavern, the melody returned, louder and more urgent than before.

Dawn came swiftly..

Elias waited at the western gate as the first light painted the desert in hues of gold and crimson. The streets of Veridion were quiet now, the bustling chaos of the day replaced by a stillness that felt almost unnatural. He leaned against the sandstone wall, his walking stick resting beside him, and scanned the empty alleyways for any sign of the woman.

The melody hummed faintly in his mind, restless and insistent.

“She’ll come,” he muttered to himself. He had no reason to trust her, no proof that her offer was genuine, but she was the first person in this city who had spoken of the woman in black without fear clouding their voice.

A faint rustle behind him made him turn sharply, his hand instinctively gripping the walking stick as if it were a weapon. The young woman stepped into view, her hood still drawn, though the light of dawn revealed more of her face. She was younger than he had guessed, perhaps no older than twenty, but her green eyes held a depth of experience far beyond her years.

“You came,” she said simply, stopping a few paces away.

“I didn’t have much of a choice,” Elias replied. “You said you wanted her dead. Why?”

The woman hesitated, her gaze dropping to the ground. For a moment, it seemed like she might turn and leave without another word. But then she took a deep breath and met his eyes.

“She killed my brother,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Elias’s heart tightened, the pain of his own loss mirrored in her words. He nodded, understanding more than he could say.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“My name is Alina,” she replied. “And if you’re serious about finding her, we need to leave the city now.”

Alina led him away from the gate, avoiding the main streets and slipping through narrow alleys that twisted like veins through the heart of Veridion. They passed closed shops and sleeping beggars, their footsteps soft against the cobblestones.

“Why leave the city?” Elias asked, his voice low. “You said she’s near the tower.”

“She is,” Alina said, glancing over her shoulder. “But you can’t just walk up to the tower and knock on the gates. The guards would kill you before you got close. If you want to get in, we’ll need to take another route.”

“And you know one?”

“I do,” she said, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. “But it’s not exactly safe.”

Elias raised an eyebrow. “None of this is.”

Alina didn’t respond, her expression hardening as they approached the edge of the city. They stopped at a crumbling archway that led into what appeared to be an abandoned courtyard. The air here was different, heavy with an almost tangible sense of unease.

“This is it,” she said, gesturing toward a narrow stone staircase descending into the earth. “The catacombs. They run beneath the tower and open into the lower levels. If we’re lucky, we can slip in without being seen.”

Elias peered into the darkness. The steps vanished into a black void, the faint scent of damp stone wafting up to meet him.

“Lucky,” he muttered. “Right.”

Alina pulled a small lantern from her satchel, lighting it with practiced ease. The flickering flame cast long shadows on the walls as she began descending the stairs. Elias hesitated for only a moment before following her, gripping his walking stick tightly.

The catacombs were a labyrinth of ancient tunnels, their walls carved with the same symbols Elias had seen in the cave and the ruins in the desert. The air was cool but stale, and the sound of their footsteps echoed unnervingly in the confined space.

“What is this place?” Elias asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Older than the city,” Alina replied, holding the lantern high. “Some say it was built by the same people who made the harp you’re looking for. Others think it’s a tomb for their dead.”

Elias shivered despite the heat. The air felt heavier here, as if the weight of centuries pressed down on them.

They moved in silence for a time, the only sound the soft crackle of the lantern’s flame. As they turned a corner, Alina stopped abruptly, raising a hand to signal Elias to be still.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Listen,” she whispered.

At first, he heard nothing. Then, faint and distant, came the sound of something moving—slow, deliberate, and not human.

Alina’s grip on the lantern tightened. “She’s not the only thing we have to worry about down here,” she said, her voice tense.

“What is it?”

“Guardians,” Alina replied. “Creatures bound to this place. They’re drawn to the harp’s magic—or anything that tries to disturb it.”

Elias’s heart pounded, but he nodded, his resolve unwavering. “Then we move carefully.”

They continued through the tunnels, their pace slower now, every step deliberate. The sound of movement grew louder, echoing around them as if the creatures were stalking them from all sides.

Finally, they reached a large chamber. In the center stood a massive stone door, its surface covered in glowing runes that pulsed faintly in the lantern’s light.

“This is it,” Alina said, her voice barely audible. “Beyond this door is the lower level of the tower. If she’s here, this is where we’ll find her.”

Elias stepped forward, studying the door. The runes seemed to shift under his gaze, almost alive. He raised a hand to touch them, but Alina grabbed his wrist.

“Don’t,” she warned. “The runes are a barrier. If you touch them without the right key, they’ll kill you.”

“Do you have the key?” he asked.

Alina hesitated, then nodded. “I think so.” She reached into her satchel and pulled out a small, ornate medallion. The same symbols from the door were etched into its surface.

“Where did you get that?” Elias asked.

“My brother,” Alina said. “He stole it from her before…” She trailed off, her voice breaking.

Elias placed a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll finish this. For him.”

Alina nodded and stepped forward, holding the medallion out toward the door. The runes flared brightly, and the sound of grinding stone filled the chamber as the door slowly began to open.

Elias tightened his grip on the walking stick, his body tense and ready. Beyond this door lay answers—and the woman in black.

As the door opened fully, a cold wind rushed out, carrying with it the faint sound of a harp’s mournful melody.

Elias stepped forward, his heart pounding, and entered the tower.