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C243 — Echoes of the Tower
Author: Little LYTA
last update2026-03-02 05:56:24

C243 — Echoes of the Tower

Michael let the Rebornians take care of the matters in the new Department Store and journeyed out to the city in search of the Magic Tower, which was not difficult to find because he only had to lift his gaze upward and watch the towering structure pierce the heavens like a black spear driven through the clouds.

When he arrived at the base, he was greeted by the same unsettling sight that always made his skin prickle, the strange black material tha
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  • C248: Dawn of the Falcon’s Invitation

    C248: Dawn of the Falcon’s Invitation At night, the entire Duke’s castle blazed like a second skyline above Angora City, its towers and battlements lit in a dazzling display of magical illumination that made the horizon look like it had been painted by some overenthusiastic artist with a love for grand gestures, and although the citizens below treated the spectacle as a rare, wondrous event, the Lytaians among them saw it as nothing more than the usual extravagant display of wealth that the powerful always insisted on calling “culture.” The drawbridge stayed lowered for the entire evening, inviting guests to roll in with gold-trimmed carriages and majestic horses that clattered and snorted with the kind of proud impatience that only the extremely rich can afford, and every arrival triggered a ripple of astonished whispers among the curious crowds gathered along the castle walls, because even in a city built on money, prestige, and illusion, a spectacle

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    C248: Dawn of the Falcon’s Invitation At night, the entire Duke’s castle blazed like a second skyline above Angora City, its towers and battlements lit in a dazzling display of magical illumination that made the horizon look like it had been painted by some overenthusiastic artist with a love for grand gestures, and although the citizens below treated the spectacle as a rare, wondrous event, the Lytaians among them saw it as nothing more than the usual extravagant display of wealth that the powerful always insisted on calling “culture.” The drawbridge stayed lowered for the entire evening, inviting guests to roll in with gold-trimmed carriages and majestic horses that clattered and snorted with the kind of proud impatience that only the extremely rich can afford, and every arrival triggered a ripple of astonished whispers among the curious crowds gathered along the castle walls, because even in a city built on money, prestige, and illusion, a spectacle

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