The sky over the Kingdom of Oryn was no longer blue; it was a bruised purple, choked by the shadow of the .
Kaelen, a disgraced knight who had traded his sword for a blacksmith’s hammer, stood at the base of the monument. He wasn't there for the treasure rumored to be at the top, nor for the divine favor the priests promised. He was there because his daughter had been "called"—drawn into the Spire’s glowing entrance like a moth to a flame, along with dozens of other children. Spire of Glory
The interior was not stone, but light. Gravity felt thin, like a half-remembered dream. As Kaelen climbed the winding, floating staircases, the Spire tested him. It didn’t use monsters; it used . The sky over the Kingdom of Oryn was
At the very peak, where the air was cold enough to crack bone, he found the King of Oryn. The monarch was withered, fused to a throne of glass, his eyes glowing with a terrifying, hollow light. He wasn't reaching for the gods; he was feeding the Spire with the "purity" of the stolen children to keep himself immortal. The Spire of Glory was a siphon. He was there because his daughter had been