nocuous

"Hey, Traveller," Branson, the tavern owner, hissed, waving me over. If he was aiming for discreet, he missed by a mile. In all fairness, Branson wouldn't know discreet if it hit him in the face. "Hey, get over here!"

With a sigh, I got to my feet. I never liked leaving my spot in the bustling tavern, small table close to the fire with an excellent view of the whole room. I liked to keep an eye on people, especially rowdy tavern guests.

Branson was shifting on his feet nervously, glancing around like he was afraid he was being watched. I didn't like this.

"I've a quest for you, Traveller," he said, once I got close enough.

"What this time, Branson?" I asked, trying to keep the exasperation from my voice. As the sole owner and proprietor of the only tavern in this pitstop of a town, Branson was approached by many on a daily basis offering quests. Branson always saved the most outlandish and dangerous for myself because I was a fool who kept accepting them.

"It's a-- very interesting one, I have to say, Traveller, and I thought, perhaps, that you might be up to the task." He didn't meet my eyes as he said this, wiping at a stain as if to wash it away. As if it hadn't been there for years.

I crossed my arms.

"Cut to the chase, Branson," I said. My head still ached from the run-in with a banshee three days ago. I wasn't in the mood for his brand of time wasting.

"Well…" Branson began, trailing off. Then, all in a rush, "There's a tower, you see, a half dozen miles past the Bramble Forest ridge. It - well, it's begun to glow and the surrounding occupants of the area are getting a bit, well, anxious. They'd like someone to check it out."

I pinched the bridge of my nose. Why, why did he give me the magical ones. I sighed again.

"This is ridiculous," I said. "Outrageous. Insane. Unbelievable."

"You'll do it?" Branson asked eagerly.

"Of course," I snapped.

...

They were all right, of course.

This was a foolish undertaking, a ridiculous endeavor took on by a fellow brave unto stupidity.

I was the fellow.

Baleful, I stared up at the dark stone tower crouching over me. At the top, out of a large opening that I presumed was a window shone a bright green light.

It glowed and pulsed.

Behind me, my horse let out a breath and shifted on his hooves. I glanced behind at Courage and sighed as well.

"Take courage, Courage," I said, trying my best to sound optimistic. Everyone knew horses had an uncanny sense for their riders' attitude. "You've done the hard part, anyway." I tipped my head back and looked up at the leering tower. "It's up to me now."

The door to the tower was unlocked and unguarded, despite being totally covered with dry vines of ivy. In fact, now that I was closer, the entire tower was covered in a dark, greasy, wrong looking lichen, dark, brittle ivy criss-crossing the surface. I broke the ivy off and out of the way, and then tried the door.

It opened a few inches, and then stopped.

I gave it a shove.

Nothing.

I took a step back to reassess, then glared up at the still-glowing green light, casting everything in an ominous glow and reflecting off the heavy blanket of clouds above. It had only been mid-afternoon when I finally reached the tower, though between the clouds and glowing light, it gave the appearance of dusk. The actual journey hadn't been hard, and I'd met the local folks who'd asked Branson for help. They were all effusive in their thanks, except for an old crone, who had stared at me mournfully and shook her head.

I shook out my arms, rolled my neck, then figuratively, as I wore plate armor, shoved up my sleeves and made for the door again. I grasped the rusting handle and propped my foot against the base of the tower, then wrenched the door outward. It was old wood, brittle as the ivy, and it shattered and splintered around the hinges. Inside, the spiraling staircase that led upward and inward was thick with the same brittle ivy. It had been keeping the door from opening.

I stared.

I felt like I was in a storybook, the brave knight ascending the cursed tower to rescue a fainting princess. I desperately hoped the tower was not cursed and that there was no fainting princess waiting to be rescued. I desperately hoped that the green light was nothing but a natural phenomenon I could turn off. Unfortunately, I had climbed towers before and there was always a complicated problem at the top.

I was hoping against hope.

I drew my sword and began the ascent.

There was no sound other than the crunching of brittle vines as I forced my way through them, climbing up the stairs. All I heard was the echoing of my muffled footsteps and the crunching vines and my increasingly labored breathing. I didn't like this. The lack of any other sound weighed heavily.

The vines made me think of the time I had to solve a zombie problem for a witch. Her house and garden had been completely overgrown with snapping vines. I had to fight the plants and the reanimated corpses.

I paused suddenly.

Without my noticing, a humming had started, a drone so low it was more vibration in my teeth than actual sound. This definitely was not good but it was too late to turn back now. I grit my teeth and forced myself to keep climbing.

The higher I climbed, the more I realized the staircase had begun to glow green. I was nearing the top. I felt like I had been climbing for years. I felt like I had been climbing for seconds.

Something rustled in the branches, further down the staircase, out of sight. I froze. The rustling stopped. Anything could be following me, now that I thought about it. I left the entrance wide open. But - I didn’t know. I needed to get this over with.

Quicker now, I pushed my way forward. The rustling behind me resumed. Abruptly, I reached the top of the staircase, nearly tripping over my feet as the thick vines ended suddenly and my forward momentum left me pushing through nothing but air.

It was a wide open circular room. What I had thought was a window was just a massive opening. There was no ledge, just a very long drop to the ground. On the far side of the room, a sad pile of bones slumped against the wall. Bad sign. Other than that, there was nothing in this room, just some dead sticks and leaves and dirt, and the same learchous black lichen. In the center of the room was the pulsating green light, emanating from nowhere. I realized the drone was much louder, throbbing in my ears. I still heard rustling in the vines in the staircase, and it was getting closer.

I took a step forward. The light thrashed. My head began to hum, throbbing in time with the shifting light, and I realized the droning was changing slightly, too. What, in the name of all that is good, was this sorcery? My feet felt heavy. I was drawing nearer to the light. A strange sense of urgency grabbed me by the throat. Something was coming up the stairs. I took another step closer, lifted my hand that felt so unbearably heavy, reaching for it. The light was almost all I could see. The light looked back at me. It grew larger and filled the room.

Something scuffed behind me, and as the light engulfed me, I turned, and caught sight of a person in plate armor, tripping on air. I opened my mouth as I stared at myself, but the light expanded again and then -

"Hey, Traveller," Branson, the tavern owner, hissed, waving me over.