Contrary to popular belief, the Tower housed many more Irregulars than anyone let on. Kerriquane is one of such.
From a country by the sea, she had been one of the most revered smiths of her town. Thinking back, Kerriquane thinks it might have been the Shinsoo singing in her veins even back then, making the strings of those webs unbreakable, strengthing the metal of swords so they could weather even the hottest fires, iciest of snow.
Or maybe it hadn't been. Because it was because of those webs that she had fallen in the treacherous waves her country was so renounced for.
She had fallen, merged with the water, breath becoming small small small and vision becoming blue blue blue. Then there was a roar and everything became still. She can still remember the awe as the streams of water warping and shaping into a bubble, streams becoming perfect balls in the centre of the space. A bright light flashed, washing over her vision like a gentle curtain until a man appears.
Teal-haired and tanned, a roughly handsome visage, body built for weathering storms and his eyes were a molten gold. Every inch of her screamed for her to run from the raw power that vibrated through the air. Her limbs trembled beneath his gaze from utter fear.
"Your fear... You know that the shadows feed off of it, no?" he said, bass voice rumbling through the cavern formed from water.
She does. The myths had told that much. But fear is like a fire. Once the flame is lit, the smoke rises and it remains even after the fire burns out, lingering in one's lungs, filtering the air and flicking embers into the air, leaving ashes of ruin as its only remnants.
Kerriquane does not speak, she stares into the water, watching her reflection — the lilac hair and the silver eyes as the shadows snake up her arms and sink themselves beneath her skin like ink, soft and cold. The terror gripes her heart.
The man laughs. Suddenly, the waves begin falling again, the senses escape her again and she braces herself for their impact.
It doesn't come.
The cave she had been in melts into another cavern, this time made of actual rocks. The shadows have been tattooed into her skin, a part of her forever, she thinks bitterly. But there is a foreign presence amongst her bones, like there is a shawl draped over shoulders. She wanders across the stones, barefoot. There is no light, only night and the stones, the wind whistling through the air.
Confused, little mortal? A voice whispers, scraping the edges of her mind. The shadows in her wrist burns.
The voice chuckles. Nowhere to go but up.
Kerriquane stops in front of a door carved from the ancient stones. Without prompt, it opens without a sound. She enters, eyes marvelling at the sight before her. Tall ceilings chipped from stone, delicate inscriptions and drawings carved into the walls beside her. The floors are made of smooth stone. Her wrist seems to cool. Something about this place seems to ward off the shadows, perhaps something in this place could free her from this curse. The voice inside her head chuckles.
Truth comes like water poured down her spine, a chilling breath diving deep into her chest, piercing through her heart. She is a pawn.
She stops. The centre is a dome sealed by glass, inside, a creature lingers mindlessly amidst the water.
Footsteps sound, clicking upon the stone. She turns, coming face to face with another creature.
"Welcome to the Tower, honoured guest," it says. "What is your name?"
The voice mutters an unintelligible phrase.
"Kerriquane," she says.
"That is a beautiful name, although which's meaning I do not understand," it says. "My name is Headon. I am the Guardian of this floor." It rubs its chin. "Now I must you a crucial question. Lady Kerriquane... What is it that you desire?"
The shadows sing and whisper in her ears. The voice laughs a cruel, wicked laugh. And she does not even have to think before answering. "Freedom," she says without hesitation.
"I can grant that," Headon muses, mouth curved into a smile that unnerves her more than it assures her. Power still sings in the air, but it is nothing compared to what she experienced in the sea.
Headon taps his cane and leans closer. "Lady Kerriquane," it says. "Everything you desire... Is in this Tower. If you want to gain your desire... Head up."
The irony stings.
The voice laughs again—
Nowhere to go but up.
