A blessed child cannot refuse a gift from a god. It alters the natural limitations on the person's body. They bring unimaginable power, but also obligations. An obligation to both man and god.

  Deep below the Kingdom of Artros lay Fenrim, a fabled prison not recorded in any of the Kingdom’s history books. Many of the prisoners were kept secret from the public, but everyone knew of one. The boy who defiled both man and god, Ryder Hartigan.

  Fenrim sat 20 floors below the city of Dlanic, the capital of Artros. A tall man with broad shoulders, sharp features, and golden hair walked down to the prison entrance where a guard greeted him. “Let me see him, Julian.”

  The guard opened the gate. “It's been a while. I’m sure he misses you, King Edmond,” Julian said sarcastically.

  The King heard murmurs and cries as he passed the prison cells. Some pleaded to the man as he walked, but he paid them no mind. His steely blue eyes settled on the cell at the end of the hall. It housed a boy covered in dirt, who was curled in the corner.

  He was lying on a bed of hay and cloth fragments. The cell had drawings of monstrous creatures scattered throughout. The King knocked twice. “Wake up."

  The boy lay there with his back to the cell entrance. He didn’t move.

  “God dammit, Ryder, must we do this every time? With the war against Beldovia going on, I won’t be able to visit anymore,” the King said.

  Still, no movement.

  The King sighed but continued. “I have a way to get you out of here.” He unlocked the cell and walked inside. The dank, humid air filled his nose. A smell that could be felt through his eyes.

  “Your Majesty, how many times must I tell you! Do not walk into his cell?” Julian yelled.

  “Oh, save it, Julian, he is harmless!” the King yelled with a lighthearted laugh. Julian rolled his eyes, “I don’t know what you see in that kid. He’s nothing but trouble.”

  The boy remained motionless, but he spoke. “What do you want, Father?”

  The King rarely raised his voice at the boy, but Ryder forced his hand. “Hey, you brat! I’m the only one trying to help you. Why don’t you understand that?”

  Ryder flinched. The unfamiliar tone started him, but it reminded him of the last time he heard it. During their first meeting.

  “Sorry,” Ryder mumbled. “How will you help me?”

  The king looked at the dirt floor of the cell. “There is a new tower.”

  The boy rolled over to meet the King’s eyes, swatting flies as he turned. The hay shifted and left a memory of the boy’s body embedded in its straw. He had brown, mangy hair that covered his eyes. “So?”

  “Clear it, and you gain your freedom,” the King said, looking where Ryder’s eyes should be.

  “What’s the catch?”

  The King looked down again, “It's a black tower, level 5.” Ryder burst out laughing. He rolled around in his makeshift bed, gripping his stomach from his wheezing. Hay and cloth littered the brown, muddy cell floor.

  “So the Kingdom is finally going to kill me?”

  The King caught a glimpse of Ryder’s eyes. His irises were black. Everyone in the Kingdom knew of his dark eyes, but few had actually seen them. The King smiled, “I see you're still scared of your eyes.”

  Ryder quickly covered them, “Why do you visit me so much? Just forget about me down here and leave.”

  The King’s face softened, “Listen, this could be your only chance to get free, and you were quite the skillful tower master. Your god is very skilled for it.”

  The boy’s hands gripped golden hay. His dirty, unclipped nails dug deep into his pale skin. Laughter no longer filled his stomach. “Are you really asking me to go back in one of those things? You know what happened the last time I went!” He snapped.

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  “Ryder, the Council ordered it,” the King said. “And I won’t step in this time.”

  Ryder lay back down and turned away from the King. His body returned to the grooves left from his long slumber. Memories of his last tower surfaced. “Nope! Never will I ever go back in one of those death traps, and sure as hell not a level 5!” Ryder yelled. “They can clear it themselves.”

  A long pause filled the room. The King took a deep breath.

  “She will be there,” the King said with an ice-cold tone.

  A chill went down Ryder’s spine. “Who?”

  “Andrea”

  The name echoed in the small, damp room. A few prisoners in the neighboring cells got quiet. Of course, Ryder knew it. It was a name sung in the streets of Dlanic or any other city in the Kingdom. A name that was always followed by a smile and cheer. But Ryder did not smile.

  Ryder shot out of bed and grabbed the King’s collar. “Are you fucking crazy? She’s your daughter! How could you send her to a black tower?”

  Julian activated his gift. In a flash, he stood in the doorway, covering 100 feet in the blink of an eye. “It's fine, Julian,” the King said, putting his hand up.

  Julian saw the boy’s face and slowly limped back to his post. “How could he look so pitiful?”

  The King towered over Ryder. “What am I to do? I’ve pleaded with her, but she won’t listen. If there is a fight, she will be there.”

  “That stupid goddess of war,” Ryder mumbled with a worried look, letting go of the King’s garments. “She never looks after herself.”

  “That’s why I need you to look after her,” the King said, moving the hair out of the boy’s eyes. “Your eyes look at her with so much care.”

  Ryder swatted the King’s hand away and hid his face. “These eyes can’t protect anyone!” he said. “And I don’t look at her like that!”

  “The tower is in Ingold.”

  “Ingold?” Ryder said. “There are 100,000 people who live there!”

  “Yes, and the party needs a bestiary,” the king said while pointing at one of the white chalk drawings on the wall.

  “What is this?” he said.

  “A Zephyr,” Ryder responded quickly. “They are fast, have 180 degree field of view, and are covered in thick scales. No combat weaknesses."

  The King smiled. “I expect nothing less from the academy’s best.”

  “That was years ago,” Ryder said, hiding his face again. “And I don’t owe this Kingdom anything. It has treated me like trash from the day I was born.”

  The King knelt, “I know, and you have done more for this nation than most have. I consider your blood Artros. But I’m not asking you to do this for the Kingdom. I truly believe you can clear this tower.”

  Ryder fidgeted with a red cloth tied to his left wrist, his ears red. He typically slept his days away, lying in that cell until his bread for the evening arrived. The few times he was conscious, his eyes kept a half-shut pose while he drew on the walls to keep his sanity. An undignified ending surely awaited him in that jail. A murderer’s death. But his eyes were wide open. A flicker of purpose floated around the dark circles.

  The King’s garments were stained from the floor. The mud clung to anything that touched it, including the King’s bright white pants and black boots.

  Ryder moved the hair out of his eyes; they met the King’s calm gaze. The deep blue eyes of the King reminded him of the Princess, though her eyes were angrier.

  “Fine,” Ryder said. “What good am I here?”

  The King’s face contorted. Ryder looked deeper into the King’s eyes. Guilt and fear stared back at him. Goosebumps ran across his whole body, but he had made his decision.

  “There will be 10 party members. Eight Dungeon masters and two prisoners. You leave in 3 days.”

  Ryder moved to the door slowly. His bones cracked and popped with every step. However, the door looked closer than he originally thought. It would be the first time he left in a few years. Was he ready for the stares again? The tower? He continued out of the cell, head held high. Anything was better than Fenrim.

  “What’s next?” he said.

  “Next? You need a shower and a haircut,” the King chuckled.

  He turned to the ragged boy. Ryder wore the brightest smile. The King looked forward, eyes now red—a look Ryder had never seen from the stoic King. The two continued toward the prison entrance. Ryder followed right on the King’s heels.

  “Hold it. He needs to be chained, Your Majesty,” Julian said, pointing at Ryder’s hands. The King went to speak, but Julian interrupted.

  “It's not negotiable. We can not have a murderer run free within the castle walls,” Juliana said.

  “Fine, put them on,” the King said, motioning to the boy.

  Julian put the shackles on each of Ryder’s wrists, restraining his movement. Ryder’s eyes did not leave him.

  “Now you can g-”, before Julian could finish, Ryder lunged. Julian reflexively fired a counter punch. The boy dodged with minimal effort, eyes flashing purple. Julian jumped back 5 feet, legs shaking.

  “What good do these things do? You're still scared of my eyes,” Ryder laughed.

  “It’s not your gift that's scary,” Julian muttered. “It's you.”

  Ryder’s jaw flexed. The words dug deep into his mind. The Dlanic Academy toughened Ryder up with the countless dirty looks shot his way, but the boy’s heart still faltered under their weight.

  “Enough, you two!” the King barked. “If you two are done, there is a crisis we need to handle!”

  “Sorry,” Julian and Ryder respond in unison.

  “Alright, let's get going, Ryder.” Ryder turned but completely missed the first step. Julian giggled.

  “Watch your step”, the King said with a grin.

  “Shut up!”

  The two continued up the stairs and out of the prison.