Snow buried the tower grounds beneath a pale morning light.

  Cold air cut through cloth and skin alike, and every breath Tavari released dissolved into white mist.

  He stood before the Watcher’s chamber.

  Guards walked past him.

  No greetings.

  No acknowledgment.

  Yesterday he had won… yet today he felt farther from everyone than before.

  The door opened.

  The Watcher stepped out — and for the first time, his voice carried warmth.

  “Today’s training will be different. Today you will learn why you are different. Follow me.”

  Tavari’s chest tightened.

  He said nothing and followed.

  They climbed higher than ever before.

  Past training floors.

  Past empty halls.

  Past even the chambers of commanders.

  At the top of the tower stood a room beneath the sky itself.

  Its ceiling was transparent crystal, revealing pale winter clouds.

  The walls were gold and diamond, reflecting light in silent patterns.

  At the center bloomed a garden of black crystal roses.

  The Watcher stepped forward.

  “Come closer.”

  Tavari obeyed.

  A hand pressed against his chest.

  “Do not think. Let emotion guide you.”

  His heart skipped.

  That warmth…

  That presence…

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  Why… does this feel like him…?

  The Watcher withdrew his hand as if nothing happened.

  “If you wish to become one of the strongest soldiers of the Tower… you must understand what stands beyond soldiers.”

  Threads gathered behind Tavari, forming a seat.

  “Sit.”

  He did.

  “The most dangerous is Cassia.”

  The roses trembled faintly.

  “The first thread user. She commands mind, ten elements, and darkness itself. She bends will, turns allies into puppets, and has drowned entire lands in blood for rituals.”

  A pause.

  “The second… Vealie. Neither male nor female. Half demon.”

  The air felt colder.

  “He cannot consume souls like true demons — so he recreates special-blooded humans into his children. Even if memories remain… obedience replaces freedom.

  His failed attempts are the beasts you saw.

  He copies power and amplifies it threefold. Once a week he creates a personal universe where he alone defines reality.”

  Tavari swallowed.

  “And above him… stands his father.”

  The Watcher’s voice deepened.

  “The Abyssal Sovereign. Space collapses around him. Time loses direction. Survival near him is considered victory.”

  Silence fell.

  “And lastly… the White Gods. The traitors.”

  Tavari’s fingers tightened.

  “So… all of them… are above us?”

  “They are above armies,” the Watcher answered.

  He stepped closer.

  “Do you still wish to become a soldier of the Tower?”

  Tavari stood. His heart pounded — not from fear… but from inevitability.

  “Yes.”

  “Kneel.”

  The sword left its sheath.

  “I, Watcher of the Tower, name you among the highest ranked soldiers.”

  The blade returned to his hands.

  For a moment Tavari felt pride—

  “The training has not begun.”

  The feeling shattered.

  Outside the tower

  Matt lowered his weapon.

  “Do you think the Watcher is too harsh on Tavari?”

  Arie moved behind him, pulling him gently closer.

  “He is ancient. He knows what he is shaping.”

  Matt didn’t pull away.

  Their lips met — slowly — then deeper.

  “Matt!”

  They broke apart instantly.

  Sarah crossed her arms.

  “Train.”

  Serena and Raphel arrived beside Joseph.

  Arie cleared his throat.

  “Tomorrow is the Festival of the Heart — when the Cancer constellation reaches its peak.”

  They listened.

  “A queen once fell ill and refused the Watcher’s healing. She believed only in human medicine. When she died… the king followed her in death. To honor them, love is celebrated every year.

  Red for lovers. Purple for devotion.”

  Matt blinked.

  “We never heard of it.”

  Serena shrugged.

  “We were poor.”

  Arie smiled.

  “Tomorrow we attend the banquet.”

  Inside the chamber again

  The Watcher held Tavari’s hands.

  “There exist only three true thread users. Cassia… myself… and you.”

  Tavari’s breathing stopped.

  “That is why Nuru searched for you. And why Vealie hunts you. We share the Thread Bond.”

  The hands released.

  “But yours is incomplete.”

  “Release your threads.”

  Light poured out — effortless.

  For the first time… no resistance.

  “Create a spell.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Listen. Threads whisper.”

  He focused.

  Nothing.

  Then—

  A feeling.

  Not sound. Not thought.

  Guidance.

  His fingers trembled as he grasped a strand.

  “Create a spell that forces one to dream the past.”

  The threads resisted.

  Burned.

  Shook violently.

  Pain shot through his hands.

  He nearly let go—

  But steadied himself.

  Slowly… a circular weave formed.

  Imperfect at first.

  Then balanced.

  Alive.

  “Cast it.”

  He threw it upward.

  The circle shattered into invisible light raining across the tower.

  Silence.

  The Watcher clapped once and walked away.

  Tavari stared at his hands.

  For the first time in his life…

  He had not borrowed power.

  He had not inherited power.

  He had made it.

  A small smile formed.

  And he left the chamber.