The Tower (Ambage Short Story)
It all seemed so ordinary; that was what threw me off. Regular sized doors, a few make-shift tables and some crates to be used as chairs lined the first room. I had been expecting something a little more, well, grand. My friend, an archer, raised his bow.
“Stay alert.” He ordered fiercely. “We can’t afford to drop our guards.”
“Come on, surely you don’t believe this is the right place?” I had been doubtful since I first laid eyes on the structure. There only looked to be around ten stories, clearly not enough to be considered legendary.
“It is. I’m sure of it.”
“When you said we were going on an adventure, I had something more exciting in mind. Well, I guess that’s what I get for being so gullible.” I picked my nails casually on the tip of my sword. I was sure this would be boring.
The archer moved slowly toward a stairwell on the eastern side, checking ahead to see if we had company. We did not.
“Let’s move.” He began to climb to the next level.
“Yes, let’s…” I rolled my eyes in disgust.
The next level remained empty as did the one after that and the one after that. Everything looked brown and caked in dust; not to mention calling the rooms furnished would be exaggerating. No loot, no damsels, no threats; just a leisurely stroll through an abandoned graveyard that was once a building.
Eventually we made it to the very top. The view was nothing special, and the roof was barren.
“Satisfied? You dragged me all of this way for nothing.” I hawked some spit off the side, counting the seconds it took until I heard the splat.
“On the contrary,” my friend chuckled, “We’re here. The real test starts now.”
I looked up and gawked. We had indeed found what we were searching for.