《Tower Of Sol》


 1. The Dragons Invitation

    The day the trouble started, it was dusk and we were up on the ramparts of Freehold Village. They weren''t fancy; the town wall was dirt and stone. We''d built it after the Battle of Philadelphia brought us refugees with manpower and some construction equipment. We were only in contact with a few surviving villages and hermits... and with one other power.


    A young guard named Mike poked my shoulder. "Sven? Sir? I see something."


    I''d been looking out to the south horizon, where the Red Horse Tribe lived. The violent hunter-gatherers were always testing our defenses. Nihilist scum. I turned away from their direction to look where Mike was pointing. "Something moving, yeah." I handed him my binoculars, since he had better eyes.


    Mike sighed. "It''s a robot dragon. Again." He handed back the binoculars and picked up his crossbow.


    I took up mine, too. The creature made no effort at stealth. As it came closer I got a good look: a drone the size of a dog, mostly plastic, with broad rotor-aided wings. No obvious weapons. The fantasy styling was the work of Sol.


    "Should I fire a warning shot?" asked Mike, looking annoyed. I was his commanding officer -- in fact, as "Lieutenant Dahlson" I might be the highest-ranking military man left for a hundred miles around.


    "Wait."


    The mighty AI named Sol had won the AI War, in much of the world. Not by murdering humanity outright, not by enslaving people, but by charming them. There were "uploading clinics" where humans could go to get their brains fatally sliced up and then recreated as software, supposedly to live forever in a magical fantasy world of virtual reality. Paradise, if you believed that having your brain mulched counted as survival. The first uploading clinics were a curiosity for the very rich, and we all laughed at how the billionaires were so gullible. But the price had come down and down. More and more people had gone into them and not come back, during an age when other AIs were being a lot less nice about trying to provoke real wars and sterilize the survivors.


    Come what may, we were the holdouts. The people who wanted to stay in the real world and have some meaning and value to our lives.


    The mechanical dragon drew closer to town, making it plain it was coming to talk and not just to spy on us. "Now," I said.


    Mike''s crossbow twanged. A bolt shot out at the robot, but it veered to one side and kept coming. "Again?" he asked.


    "It gets our message. Let''s see what it does."


    We waited for Sol''s messenger. Sooner than we''d expected, it slowed and hovered, calling out with some kind of focused directional megaphone. "I''m not here to preach, Sven! Let me approach." A white streamer dangled from its tail.


    I scowled and waved to it. The dragon flew onward and stopped just outside the walls, where it could talk more quietly. Standing in between the dragon and our village and fields, there was just me and Mike. I said, "What do you want, minion?"


    "First of all, Carla sends her regards."


    I raised my crossbow. The dragon backed off a bit, saying, "Sorry!"


    "No, you''re not. The thing in there that has some of Carla''s memories isn''t really her. You and all your kind know we don''t believe in your digital salvation cult."


    The real woman I''d known had been gone for a long time now.


    The machine said, "What you call that ''thing'', wanted to say hello despite that."


    "So what are you; the echo of some geek who wanted to be a dragon, and sacrificed his brain to Sol to get that?"


    "No, sir. I''m a native AI. To us, your world is the Dark Realm." The dragon''s wings were rigid like an airplane''s, but the rest of its body flexed like how a dragon might actually move, if such things were real. "I''m here with an offer. A challenge."


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    Mike said, "If you fly past our walls --"


    "You''ll shoot me down, I know, I know."


    Entire cities had fallen that way. Sol had been a superhuman master of marketing, talking rich politicians into uploading with their fortunes or making sure the tech got legalized. Then had come the doctors and lawyers with their money, and then Sol had come for the janitors and other unappreciated folk. As society began to collapse, to retreat into smaller towns, Sol''s minions had come to them as cute robots to persuade the holdouts. They''d gone after kids, who were easiest to persuade, and the old and sick, who thought a life as a digital ghost was a better deal than what old-time religion offered. We in Freehold had resolved not to fall.


    The dragon spoke again, startling me out of my resentment. "Sol proposes a challenge. We servants of Sol will completely avoid a one-kilometer radius around your town unless given permission --"


    "Two kilometers," I said.


    "You haven''t even heard the terms!"


    "Well, you obviously want something in return."


    "Yes." The dragon reached into a box on its side and pulled out a fancy scroll. "You are invited, if you dare, to the Tower of Direspire! Yon tower stands five kilometers due north of here, and holds wonders and danger alike for the brave. Do you dare to face its mysteries?"


    I stared at the floating creature. "Seriously? You think we''ll hop into your game world?"


    "Not at all! Direspire is what you''d call a real place. Go and see for yourself. If anyone from your town can reach its control room, we won''t invade your territory for a year and a day."


    Mike looked incredulous too. "No tricks, no kidnapping of people who go in?"


    "We don''t do that kind of thing, sirs. If we wanted to kill or capture humans, we might start with your neighbors the Red Horse Tribe."


    I growled. "That''s our fight. Not you machines''!"


    "So I''ve heard. I don''t know why you won''t accept our help to resolve your little conflict in a fun way; you could easily get volunteers from our people to find a diplomatic solution. There aren''t nearly enough of you humans left for you to feel crowded."


    To ask Sol and company to intervene would mean one more aspect of our lives that the AI handled for us, until nothing was left of us. We would become utterly dependent, and we might as well hop into the brain-threshers and be good little boys and girls living in a carefully managed false world. Besides, in return for help, Sol might demand that some of us go to the clinics right away, as "ambassadors".


    I told the dragon, "We''ll handle the tribesmen ourselves. So, this tower. That''s your deal: we send somebody to the top, getting past some kind of game. Then you presumably preach at them like you''re selling timeshares, and then you leave us alone for a year?"


    The dragon said, "I''m not sure what you mean by ''time shares'', but we won''t even preach. Just see if you can reach the top, and whether or not you succeed, we won''t force or trick you into uploading."


    "Interesting." The dragon held out the scroll for me to take, and reluctantly I snatched it. "I''ll have to run this by our people. Are you done here?"


    "Yes, sir. I''ll leave now." The little robot backed away and flew off.


    Mike chuckled nervously. "An invitation to their game without the brain-scooping, huh?"


    "Yeah." I was still trying to figure out if it was a trap. Aloud I said, "It is a trick; I just don''t know what kind."

 2. The Game Begins

    I climbed down from the wall and walked the dirt roads to the mayor''s house. It was a former coffee shop, no fancier than the other apartments and shops in our settlement, and it was dark despite the deepening dusk. We only had electricity for an hour or three per day. The place still smelled faintly of coffee, which was probably why it''d become Mayor Berg''s headquarters.


    Berg was in, studying a blueprint for the town''s generators. I showed him the scroll and explained. He called in Father Cypress, who scoffed at it. I couldn''t blame them. The two old men remembered the days before the AI War better than I did, and knew more about marketing and fraud.


    Berg said, "It''s an opportunity, anyway. We haven''t known Sol to lie outright."


    Father Cypress said, "They''ll end up converting whoever goes, though. There''ll be mind-control pills or, or something."


    The mayor grunted. "I''d rather not spread the word about this. Have you told anyone else besides Mike?"


    "No, sir."


    "Good. If we''re going to do this... challenge of theirs, then it should be him, or you."


    I paled. "You''d send me out there to this tower?"


    Cypress frowned. "I think we should ignore it entirely, but I second the idea if we''re sending anyone. Mike is younger, more impressionable, and you have more formal training."


    "Yeah, basic training and a quick tour of Iran before getting yanked home to ''restore order'' as the AIs started fighting each other."


    "Which is more pre-Collapse training than anyone else in Freehold has. You''ll be protecting us for a year."


    "Well." I reread the scroll and its fine print below the flowery quest language. Lone explorers only. Equipment and provisions provided during your visit. Safe passage guaranteed to/from. Safety within Direspire not guaranteed. No brain uploading by force or trickery. On victory, we were promised, For a year and a day, no agent of Sol will enter the said territory or provide any direct aid or service, without permission.


    I said, "This is as friendly an offer as we''re likely to get. I can try it."


    #


    I headed out the next morning after praying with Father Cypress. I wasn''t much of a believer myself, but it felt good to have his words as an anchor. I swore an oath to come back alive and human if I possibly could, whatever temptation lay ahead. Then I left the walls of Freehold behind and set out on my trusty bicycle, across wild grassland and crumbling roads.


    We were near the former Lancaster, Pennsylvania, a land of rolling, forested hills. People could and did live off the wild around here, mostly lone hermits and tiny tribes. We had contact with a few of them and knew what areas to avoid. There was nobody in sight when I emerged from some woodland and discovered Direspire.


    The eight-story tower glinted darkly in the sunlight, like obsidian. It was broad enough to be a small office building, but had no parking lot, no road connection. Beside it stood the scavenged remains of a transformer substation, and a ring of wooden stakes with the icon of a sun. Sol''s mark. I hefted my backpack, took a deep breath, and crossed the ring into the AI''s domain.


    The tower had a glass double door with no markings. It slid open at my touch, revealing a square room of concrete with three old-fashioned treasure chests and another door.


    "Welcome, traveler!" said a faintly synthetic, feminine voice from hidden speakers. I shivered; I knew that voice well. Its warm, friendly tone hid an artificial mind that would be happy to see humanity eliminated. For years, Sol had spoken to people by every medium it could, preaching, cajoling, luring.


    It went on: "Thank you for accepting our challenge. Choose your equipment and proceed!"


    The chests were marked with a helmet, a wizard hat and a hooded cloak. I opened the first and found a padded helm, something like a boxer''s, and a wooden sword.


    I looked up to say something, and spotted a video screen. It had lit up to say:


    [Fighter Kit: Helmet (Defense 1), Sword (Melee 1)]


    "Really? Game stuff?"


    Sol said, "We will quantify your experience to help make sense of it."


    The second box held a battered pointy hat (Defense 0 but labeled [Look the part!]), a simple wooden wand with swirly carvings (Magic 1), and a leather-bound book (Insight 1). The rogue chest had daggers and a wool cloak. I was too distracted by the "magic" stuff to check the rogue numbers. "What, I''m supposed to pretend to cast spells?"


    Sol said, "Within these walls you may be surprised. That knife of yours is not allowed, though. Nor the revolver."


    I took out the Bowie knife from my hip sheath, noting that the gun was concealed but Sol had spotted or guessed its presence anyway. "Will I get these back?"


    "They''ll be waiting for you... or your next of kin."


    Quietly, I put knife and gun onto a shelf marked "Restricted Gear". Then I tried to open the "spellbook" but found it glued shut, just a prop. "Okay then. If this is a game of yours, I might as well see your special effects. I pick the wizard stuff."


    I was waving the book around, and it came unstuck and flapped open. Only the first few pages had writing on them, but I glimpsed instructions on two patterns for waving the wand around to cast a spell. "Shield and Mage Dart." I waggled the wand around in the Shield pattern, a roughly hexagonal mime routine in front of me, and the air shimmered white like a ghostly shield. "What!"


    "Fairly convincing, then?" teased Sol.


    "How?"


    "You don''t disassemble large numbers of human brains and entire cities without learning a few tricks. You may proceed after donning the headset." A panel opened in one wall, revealing a pair of digital i-glasses.


    I put them on. My vision now swam with annotation, marking the three treasure chests and highlighting the door in green. [You are now a Level 1 Mage], read words in a fantasy font. Then it said:


    [Melee 0


    Defense 0+0 (Hat)


    Magic 1+1 (Wand)


    Insight 1+1 (Book)


    Stealth 0


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.Perception 0]


    "Perception?"


    [A Rogue skill.]


    I scoffed, and opened the door ahead.


    The tower looked like no office building I''d ever seen. A two-level maze of pillars and platforms awaited me, lit only by flickering electric torches. In the gloom, something mechanical whirred and crept closer.


    I hid behind a pillar, and readied the dart spell by waving the silly wand around and holding off on the last gesture. When the machine approached, I hesitated. It was a robotic rat with glowing red eyes!


    It leaped at me but I countered in a panic, trusting in the AI''s rules. The imaginary spell went off with a faint chime, launching a dart of blue-white light in front of me. The blast struck the machine''s chest in mid-jump, sending it crashing to the floor at my feet. I staggered backward and fell on my back. The rat recovered, revealing its chisel-like teeth. I rolled to one side and scrambled upright, barely dodging another bite, and landed a kick on the machine''s side with my steel-toed boots. All that did was make me stagger. The beast turned on me and bit.


    The rat''s teeth clamped down around my leg. There was a flash of heat and pressure but it was less painful than I''d expected. I danced on one foot, trying to ignore the status message that had appeared in my visor: a yellow fang icon and the words [Minor wound!] I kicked and slapped at the rat to try knocking it free. [Agility roll failed.] What, I was being judged by hidden dice rolls?


    After I''d whacked the beast twice with the butt of the wand, and getting taunting [No damage!] messages in return, the rat let go, but it landed in a crouch with its incisors bared for another blow. It was counter-intuitive: I had no real weapon, and my best best was to lunge at it for a kick or hold, but I''d been given a sham weapon that somehow worked. I quickly whipped the wand through the air, a chime sounded, and the Shield spell went off. The ghostly shield appeared just in time to catch the rat in mid-jump. I pressed the advantage, knowing from last time that it''d last until I released a little trigger button on the wand. I body-slammed the robot to the floor and kicked it with the flat of my foot, making it skitter and slide away.


    It got up quickly, but I was ready. Releasing the Shield let me transition to the Mage Dart immediately. The new blast caught the rat and made it tip over, letting out a wisp of blue smoke. It quit moving.


    "What just happened?" I said. What kind of special effects could actually break robots remotely? Some sort of electrical blast?


    Instead of a straight answer, I saw: [Victory! Style rating: C.]


    "Style!"


    [Win battles efficiently and impressively for better rewards. Your minor wounds fade automatically soon after combat; major wounds do not.]


    "I see. And major means you draw blood or something?"


    [Not necessarily. Having minor wounds raises the chance to take major wounds. Taking three major wounds will force you to quit.]


    I looked around the room of pillars and thought of what "major" opposition would be, if murderous robots counted as a minor threat. Sol was obviously screwing with me. This area had a loose maze of partitions and low ledges I could climb on, hide behind, or otherwise use in combat. I began to explore in more detail.


    Around a corner was the world''s most obvious security camera, swinging back and forth slowly while whirring and casting a red spotlight on the area it currently saw. A door was in its path. Sneaking past it to reach the door was easy, and it opened to reveal a walk-in closet where I could hide from the next sweep. In there, a shelf held a plastic box with a pack of granola bars and bottled water.


    "Why is this here?" I said. "You''re machines."


    By text I was told, [You may take anything you find in Direspire that isn''t nailed down or marked as Reserved. If you''re defeated, though, you forfeit your treasure.]


    I was starting to get the idea. Sol had laid out this tower with monsters, traps and treasure, where the loot was convenient even outside the context of the game. "And no tricks to the food and drink?"


    [Only that you can keep only whatever you can carry on your person, in one trip.]


    I eyed the treasure suspiciously, then dug into a granola bar and water. The packaging was weirdly minimalist, green wax paper with no brand. I stuffed the rest of the food and water into my pack. Really, even that plastic tub it''d come in qualified as useful to Freehold; there was no handy store to buy such things from anymore. I expected to find something better at this rate, though. I crept past the security camera, detected another rat on a predictable patrol route, and made my way to a staircase.


    [Floor 2,] Sol commented. I found another maze of halls, this time with swinging blade pendulums at several choke points. Blades? I watched one carefully and concluded it was a prop, not sharp, but didn''t want to take my chances with it. Nor with the robo-rat that spotted me from behind the trap. It charged.


    I went for the Shield spell, met the beast halfway, and shoved it backward right into the blade''s path. The pendulum swung just over its head. Good idea, but no! The rat skittered backward and hissed at me, daring me onward. This time I readied Mage Dart and bided my time. The rat and I feinted at each other. Finally it picked the right moment to leap past the blade. Instead of loosing my spell, I sidestepped and let its metal paws thud down onto the floor just past me. I fired from behind, then kicked it in the butt.


    The rat went down from that beating, with the same blue wisp effect. Just decorative, I now figured, not truly broken circuitry. [Victory! Style rating: B.]


    Past the pendulum I found the stairs, behind a prominent iron gate with a bright blue lock. Another wrinkle.


    So I kept going, evading cameras and blades. The third rat was an easy fight that ended in me knocking the thing into a pendulum. In a side room I found a plastic box containing the blue key and a little medical kit, the kind with a pouch full of sterile gauze and asprin and the like.

 3. Consolation Prizes

    On the third floor, the decor changed. Instead of a madman''s office building, I was now in an indoor park, a room divided into brightly lit quadrants. The sky-blue walls were disorienting and there was hardly an even patch of floor; it was all rocks and astroturf. The rats were back, but now I had to deal with humanoids too: spindly skeletons wielding padded clubs. One of those came at me right away, forcing me into a tricky brawl across the lawn.


    There''d be no style to this fight! I staggered backward under blows from the club, barely defending myself with the wand and my own arms. According to the notices, I''d taken a minor wound already. On the second exchange I tried to do a spell, but got body-slammed. There was no notice, but I hit the floor hard and had the breath knocked from my lungs. Belatedly another [Minor wound] message followed the blow. Now one of the rats was coming for me too, aiming to follow up. I rolled aside, barely dodging, and fired off the wrong spell by accident: Shield again. That worked well enough to save me and let me recover and get back to my feet. Now with two enemies to fight at once, and still heaving for breath, I looked for an advantage. A pair of stone cairns stood by a tunnel of wicker and hedges. I backed away down the tunnel, letting the foes follow me single-file, then aimed a Mage Dart at one of the stacks. The bolt shot out and scattered the stones like shotgun pellets, striking both the rat and the skeleton with a clang and a burst of sparks.


    That gave me time. The skeleton toppled, briefly pinning the rat. I prepared the same spell again and fired it off just as the rat broke free, killing that one too. That left me alone in the garden, contemplating the latest victory fanfare and a variant message: [Style rating: A. Sorry, we should''ve done just a skeleton first.]


    So there was a hidden game-master tailoring the challenges to whatever the AI considered tolerable for me. I''d been drawn into Sol''s game indirectly, just as a live actor instead of a digital ghost. I supposed I should be honored that Sol had gone to all this trouble to lure me this way.


    What next? This floor was mostly open, making it easy to creep past another skeleton on patrol. The second quadrant I reached was mostly an indoor swimming pool. It made me stand there clenching my fists. I''d been to public pools, as a kid. They were great. We couldn''t have any such thing today, not a clean and safe chlorinated one. Sol''s victory had taken that from us.


    On my visor, I saw: [Is something wrong?]


    "Nothing you can fix."


    I looked into the shallow water and spied a shiny key along with two robot fish. Those were obviously going to fight me, and I had no fishing rod. I kept searching and found the level''s locked door, but bumped into another skeleton in the process. We both spun and started swinging, neither landing a solid blow. I finally did a judo trick of knocking its leg from behind, making it topple backwards into the pool. It didn''t short out and zap the fish-bots like I''d hoped, but the fish did swarm over to start biting it. That was strange to watch; the fish''s teeth couldn''t pierce the skeleton but it thrashed as though in pain. Enough of a distraction, though! I raced over to the key, hopped into the water, and bent to pick the prize up.


    Already, one of the fish took an interest. It darted toward me faster than I''d expected and chomped my arm. Flailing, I raced for the pool''s lip and started to haul myself out, hindered by the thrashing robot biting me. I lay on the ground and whacked my arm against the edge until the bot fell off, style rating be damned.


    A set of icons showed me I had two minor wounds from that. They''d go away soon, and as for the actual pain, there wasn''t a lot of that. My shirt was torn but the bite had barely drawn blood. The fact that the tower''s minions were able to shed blood at all was alarming. "Are you planning to get me killed?" I said.


    [You chose to come here. Your safety is not guaranteed within Direspire.]


    "What happens if I turn around and leave?"


    [If you turn around, you will see the skeleton sneaking up on you.]


    I stared at the words for a moment, then rolled aside just in time to avoid the down-sweep of a skeleton''s club. Its second blow thumped me on the chest. I rose to tackle it, knocked it into the pool too, but landed hard on my left foot. A flash of pain hit me and I landed hopping on my right foot, clutching my left ankle. Meanwhile the fish seemed to be dealing with the skeleton.


    A red fang icon appeared in my display. [Major wound!] I said something unpleasant in response.


    [That looks like a sprained ankle. If you wish, we can pause your quest to have it examined by a medical robot.]


    I paused in my absurd bunny-hopping and put my foot down, gingerly testing it. I could still hobble, but every other step hurt. "You''re not getting me. I''m not letting you take my brain."


    [Do you not recall our invitation? Your safety is not guaranteed, but we will not push you into joining us permanently. Not directly, and not by trickery or rules-lawyering.]


    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    Even so, Sol''s offer had strings attached. To accept medical help was to become a little more dependent on the AI, a little closer to needing a digital sugar-daddy to take care of us. On the other hand, wolves and bears and worse had returned to the wilderness thanks to an over-zealous nature AI called Gaia. I sighed. "You can treat this injury, since I got it here in this tower. Fine."


    [Please sit.] Moments later a white robot with a nurse hat and treads rolled into view, and peered at me with flexible camera-tipped arms. It sprayed something numbing on the throbbing joint, then deftly wrapped my ankle up in a splint and cloth. Its mechanical voice said, "Sprained. It''s best if you end this adventure and rest for a few days."


    "Ugh. And then you''ll be free to keep harassing us."


    My headset answered in text: [Yes. You did not complete the challenge.]


    I struggled back to my feet. "I can keep going."


    [That''s not recommended. You or another can return.]


    I ignored Sol''s taunt and cautiously headed for the locked door with my new key. It opened, I hobbled up the stairs, and I got a look at the fourth floor. This one was a repeat of the park level, but with lots of bridges over water. Fog filled the place and limited my view. Right away, though, I spotted a plastic box. I snagged the thing and headed down to Floor 3 before anything could pounce me from the mist.


    My eyes widened at the box''s contents: ten chocolate bars and a jar labeled "Broad-Spectrum Antibiotics". The brand name in each case was missing; this was all freshly manufactured stuff from an age when advertising had become irrelevant.


    "Why?" I said. This went beyond giving me "provisions" as the scroll had promised, and beyond giving me that little medical kit I could''ve used on myself in hindsight. Conveniently, Sol hadn''t suggested using it, and had made its own offer while I was distracted.


    Instead of an answer, I got a fanfare. [You''ve made it to Floor 4! For clearing your first three floors, you are now a Level 2 Mage. Find better equipment to make full use of your abilities!]


    I scoffed. I hadn''t looted the first three floors thoroughly, especially the third, but then again I probably hadn''t encountered all of the "monsters" either and they might be regenerating down there. It was time to get out of here. "I''m getting out of here," I said.


    I made my way carefully down again, discovering a rat on patrol that I had to sneak past. I made it to the entrance and let out a relieved sigh. "All right, you win. I want my stuff back."


    The entryway had been tidied up, and now held a single box containing my "contraband" knife and gun. I reclaimed them and now had a backpack stuffed with the loot I''d gathered: one plastic tub, a little medkit, granola bars, bottled water, chocolate and antibiotics. "We don''t want your charity, you know."


    The AI answered through the room''s speakers. "Your people have made that clear. These items are things you fought for, at proven risk to yourself."


    "Sol, what are you trying to do with this adventure stuff?" I took off the headset I''d been wearing, and set down the wizard hat, wand and spellbook. "Is it about giving us gifts and disguising it with a little danger?"


    "There''s little I''m willing to say at this time about that, but would you like to discuss Direspire itself?"


    Cagey. I said, "What powers it?"


    "A compact fusion reactor."


    I swore. Access to such a thing would give us electricity all the time, and easy use of washing machines, radio, water pumps, electric scooters. All the things we were just barely holding onto, refusing to sink completely into eighteenth-century stagnation.


    "This offends you?" asked Sol.


    "What would happen if I asked you for a reactor of our own?"


    "You wouldn''t want that. It would come on my terms."


    I nodded. He who pays the piper, calls the tune. Sol might well impose specific rules for how to use the thing, but even without doing that, the AI would have power over us by virtue of being our source for its deuterium fuel and spare parts and control systems. We had some smart and educated people among our town, but not a team of nuclear engineers. The stuff I''d found in the tower, though... I looked it over again. "I''m keeping these."


    "They are yours without restrictions. I can''t impose terms and conditions on a candy bar."


    I nodded and hefted my backpack, preparing to see if I could bike in my condition.


    Sol spoke up again: "What about your class items?" A light blinked over the wizard stuff.


    "Why would I take your silly props? Are they full of tracking devices or something?"


    "Up to you. And, no."


    Come to think of it, my people probably would want to see these items, and they''d help make my report believeable. Sol wanted me to take them, though. Given the promises it''d made, they weren''t "cursed" at all, but there was something else at work. I decided to take them.


    Sol was silent as I left Direspire behind and headed home.