Tower of Obsidian

Journey back through time – to a kingdom where loyalties change hands and a duke plans to secure his kingdom through any means necessary, where oaths are broken and dismissed to forge new alliances, resulting in treachery.

Journey to save the one who was stolen from you – from the forests of the Emerald Isle to the icy waters of the Nordic New World. Journey by horse, ship, and wing.

Journey to the Tower – the Witch’s Tower that curses the people forced to serve it.  Journey and kill the witch that plagues you and be free – face her dragons without becoming one yourself.

For the journey to the tower is only the beginning. Climb the tower and kill her; climb the tower and save her. The story has been told a thousand times, the only thing that is guaranteed to change is you.

Excerpt:

You know how the tale is supposed to go. The maiden is seized, captured by some foul villain. The hero gives chase, defeats the villain, and rescues her. The maid and hero wed and live happily ever after. But suppose it doesn’t go like that. No doubt there have been countless stories of maidens taken by villains. Some are rescued,others are killed, and however tragic their stories, they are ended. 

What if one of these maidens lingered in darkness, with puzzles unsolved, her dragons unslain? 

She was stolen, like so many before her and many who came after. Was she a goddess, a nymph, or a common girl of great beauty? It matters little. He seized her and forced her into a dark tower, which even the gods could not destroy. Oh how they tried, sending their sons to battle him. All failed. 

The wicked sorcerer enticed her, tried to trick and confuse her, but she would never submit. In rage, or perhaps when it seemed the tide was turning, and perhaps her true love finally came, the sorcerer, rather than lose her, cursed her. He locked her in a prison, and she and the tower became one. 

At last, the sorcerer was destroyed, but not sent forth to the land of the dead, or chance his evil would survive the grave. Undying, he remained a fragmented wraith, a wicked creature, the villain in countless stories. Perhaps, that was why his defeat did not undo her curse, for she remained a prisoner in the dark spire.

 Her would-be hero, defeated at the end, died of a broken heart. The lands around the tower grew dark, as if the world itself knew the tale was too sad. Surely, she was worth rescuing? Surely, there was another who could save her?

 Imagine then, if you were she: your beauty, your curse, and your true love stolen from you. Imagine your father playing one suitor off another. All the while, the other women despise you. Imagine being changed—much like how a god would turn a nymph into a cow, a goddess into the body of a mortal. Confined to a prison, and even if it were the finest castle in all the lands, heaven, earth, or the underworld, still a cage. All the while, you wait for a rescue which never comes. The spell will not allow you to die nor to grow old. You are stagnant in a world where stories of old become legends, and legends forgotten—dismissed as childish fancy.

 No, child, surely you do not wish to know that story. Maidens must be rescued, the good endure, and evil smote. Even though you know what is true or fair is not so in your life, you expect nothing else in your story. It is how the story is supposed to go. You will accept nothing but a proper ending. Content yourself then with stories of long hair and spinning wheels.

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L.T. Getty

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