Dawn cast an amber hue over the silver-white towers of Solmere. Sunlight glinted off the ancient carved stone walls, making the fortress appear as if it were awakening from a night steeped in wine and music.
Karl walked steadily along the cobbled path leading to the Silver Tower — a towering structure in the heart of Solmere, long regarded as the strategic soul of the city. Molvar walked beside him, yawning as he adjusted the strap on his short sword.
"Whew... that banquet was something else, but these folks rise way too early," Molvar grumbled. "I swear they don't sleep. The church bell rang just as I closed my eyes."
Karl smiled but remained silent, his gaze fixed on the towering spire ahead. There was a strange feeling stirring inside him — not quite unease, but certainly not peace. This journey was taking him somewhere new, and the Silver Tower felt like the gate that was about to open.
As they drew closer, the iron gate engraved with Solmere's crest stood open. Sir Cedric waited by it, hand resting on his sword, his expression composed.
"The Lord awaits you at the tower's summit," he said, his voice calm yet resonant. "Please, follow me."
Inside the Silver Tower, the spiral staircase felt endless. Each step echoed between the silver-stone walls, while the faint glow of floating arcane stones lit the path like pale moonlight. Molvar panted behind, muttering something about the tower being tall enough for dragons to roost in, but Karl climbed silently, eyes fixed upward.
At last, they reached the summit. A large double door made of dark wood opened into a circular chamber with a high ceiling. At its center stood a finely carved stone table, and beside it, a man in a deep blue formal robe, with a cloak bearing a golden embroidered setting sun.
Lord Albrecht Varnhold.
He turned as Karl and Molvar entered, his silver eyes gleaming with interest and grace.
"Welcome to the Silver Tower," he said, his voice deep and resonant like thunder rumbling through old stone. "I've heard much about you — the one with gravity in his blood."
Karl gave a slight nod, locking eyes with the lord — neither fearful nor hesitant.
"You summoned me here to discuss something?" Karl asked.
Varnhold didn't answer immediately. He walked to the large window, gazing out over the city of Solmere, then spoke:
"This city is protected by ancient secrets... and one of them is beginning to unravel. I need someone who can face the powers rising from the deep. And I believe... you are that someone."
Karl remained silent, his gaze fixed on the lord's back. Varnhold placed both hands on the windowsill, his voice lowering into the cadence of a legend.
"Do you know why Solmere was built in this place?"
Karl shook his head slightly.
"Because this land... stands at the edge between the continent and the kingdom of those who do not belong to the land — the Sea Kings."
He turned, his eyes sharp as a sword drawn fresh from its scabbard.
"Over three hundred years ago, these waters were a living nightmare. Ancient beings rose from the depths, drowning coastal villages and demanding human blood as tribute. No wall, no army could resist them... until a circle of Sages — the last great mages of a bygone era — created the Heart of the Sea."
Molvar's eyes widened, and he interjected, "That device protecting the city from the Sea Kings, the one you mentioned earlier?"
Varnhold nodded. "Yes. The Heart is more than just a defensive pillar. It's a pact. A binding contract between mankind and the deep laws of the ocean. Solmere was built around it — a fortress to forever guard the hidden gate to the abyss."
He stepped closer to Karl, his voice dropping to a whisper. "And now, I fear that pact is unraveling. The sea is stirring. Bad dreams are rising."
Karl stared at Varnhold, a flicker of suspicion in his eyes before they settled into something deeper.
"If the pact is unraveling," Karl said slowly, "then that means the Sea Kings will return soon."
"Not just return." Varnhold's voice dropped low. "They are waiting. And when the Heart weakens, they'll shatter the last barrier. When that happens... not just Solmere, but the entire Dawn Kingdom will drown."
Molvar stepped back slightly, swallowing hard.
"So… what do you want from me?" Karl asked, his tone calm and firm.
Varnhold stepped forward, locking eyes with him.
"I need you... to create a New Boundary for the Heart."
Karl frowned. "I'm no Sage."
"But you are the last descendant of the Ageless Bloodline — a bloodline once bound to the very Laws of this world. A lineage that made gates close themselves when you passed." He paused, then continued, "You don't need to forge a new Heart. Just open a new boundary — a second circle of protection, deeper, stronger, and marked by this era's will."
Karl fell silent, turning his gaze to the sky through a narrow window. The wind from the sea carried the scent of salt and the deep-throated echoes of distant sea beasts.
"Alright," he said. "But I'll do it my way."
Lord Varnhold straightened, his voice now filled with urgency and solemnity:
"There is little time left. If you've agreed, then come with me—now."
Karl gave a silent nod. Molvar quickly followed, hand near the hilt of his blade though uncertain if he would need it.
They left the Silver Tower, passing through long, narrow corridors of stone. The walls were etched with ancient glyphs no one could read anymore. Every step seemed to take them farther from the world of men and closer to something primal… sacred.
"The Chamber of the Heart lies deep beneath the city," Varnhold said as they halted before a massive door of black stone. "Only those chosen may set foot inside."
He raised his hand, and the carvings on the door glowed with a faint, bluish light. A low rumble echoed from within, as if something had just awakened.
The door opened.
A cold draft swept out, carrying a flickering blue glow from beyond.
"Come," said Varnhold. "Let me show you why this city is the last fortress standing between mankind and the sea."
Karl and Molvar stepped inside—without looking back.