A tower of books loomed before me, their spines cracked and pages yellowed with age. Most were about the Tower’s First Floor, filled with theories, lores, and survival guides.

  I had spent hours buried in their pages, and thankfully, much of what I remembered from Dreadspire still held true here.

  Which meant it was time to check the map.

  My eyes drifted to a weathered tome near the edge of the pile. Its title was almost erased by time, but I could just make it out: The Atlas of Forgotten Door.

  I flipped it open. The pages were covered in cryptic writing that made little sense, but that wasn’t what I was after. I skimmed forward, fingers brushing brittle parchment, until a drawing caught my eye.

  A map.

  Unlike ordinary maps filled with precise markings, this one looked incomplete. Rough strokes, unfinished lines. But there was one thing that stood out, a tiny red door sketched in the upper-left corner.

  “So that’s where it is,” I muttered, closing the book with a soft thud.

  The Atlas was no ordinary book. It was a living record that revealed the ever-shifting location of the hidden door, which changed every month. It had taken me far too long to figure that out back in the game.

  I pushed the tome aside and reached for the next stack, searching for anything that might explain how I ended up here in the first place. Nothing useful. The closest was a story about a druid who claimed to be a God and a wizard who believed the world was an illusion. Both were exiled for life.

  Lesson learned: admitting you came from another world was a great way to get yourself locked away forever.

  I leaned back and stretched, my spine cracking in protest. “How long have I been here?” I murmured, glancing at my compass-shaped clock on the table. Its moon-shaped pointer angled toward dusk.

  “Already that late, huh? Guess it’s time.”

  I stacked the books neatly and began returning them to their shelves. The library was still and silent, the air heavy with dust and candle wax. Few druids ever visited this place, and I was the only newborn among them.

  “Have you found the knowledge you were looking for?”

  The voice came from my left, far too close. For the third time today, it nearly stopped my heart.

  I turned to find Myr stepping out from between two shelves, her gray-green robes trailing like mist. Her face remained as still as the air between the shelves.

  “Yes, for now,” I said, straightening.

  She nodded slowly. “Good. That means this won’t be our last meeting.”

  “If I make it back from the Tower,” I added.

  “My instincts say you will.” The corner of her lips lifted slightly. “You’ve got the attitude of someone too stubborn to die.”

  I blinked, unsure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult. So I just smiled. “Good to see you too, Myr.”

  She didn’t reply. Just stood there, half-shadowed between the shelves, watching.

  I turned toward the spiral staircase. The library’s silence followed me as I began the long climb toward the exit, the faint scent of old parchment and leather trailing behind, and the feeling that Myr’s eyes lingered long after I had gone.

  ***

  Once outside, I followed the path toward the training fields. The sun had already dipped below the treeline once I reached it, leaving only a pale afterglow and the hum of insects echoing through the dusk.

  “I didn’t see you anywhere. Where have you been?”

  Alwen’s voice came from behind, his hand clapping my shoulder.

  What was with people today? Everyone kept sneaking up on me.

  I turned to face him, still half-lost in thought. As usual, his nose was red from being rubbed too much.

  “I was at the Stone Circle Archive, did some research,” I said, scanning the field.

  “Looking for Pica? She’s inside,” Alwen replied, pointing toward the training hut.

  “Don’t tell me she’s been practicing Mana control since noon?”

  “Looks like it. That’s what Riven said earlier.” He grinned and dug into his pouch, pulling out herbs and animal parts.

  “That’s a hell of a haul,” I said with a smirk.

  “Of course it is,” he puffed. “At this rate, I’ll be richer than the Archdruid himself.”

  I chuckled, shaking my head. “Keep dreaming. Come on, let’s head in.”

  The laughter died the moment we stepped inside.

  Pica sat cross-legged before Vallen, eyes downcast, the air heavy with frustration.

  “Look at me,” Vallen said, her tone sharp and impatient. “You need to relax, not force it.”

  “I can’t do it,” Pica whispered. “I’m just a failure.”

  Her fingers twitched slightly, and the faint shimmer of Mana around them flickered out like a dying flame.

  “Listen,” Vallen said more softly. “If you give up now, everything you’ve done will be for nothing. Take a break.”

  She turned and looked at us standing in the doorway.

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  “Sit down, both of you,” she said, gesturing toward the floor. “I’ll grab your prize.”

  We sank down beside Pica while Vallen disappeared into the back room.

  “Sorry,” Alwen said gently. “Didn’t mean to overhear. But you’re not a failure, Pica. I know you can do it.”

  Pica managed a faint smile before shaking her head. “I’m just not talented enough. I can’t maintain my Living Armor while doing anything else. And my summon is pathetic.”

  “You’re doing fine,” I said. “You just need more practice, that’s all.”

  “Thanks, guys. I really appreciate it,” she murmured.

  “Let’s team up for the exploration,” Alwen said suddenly, his eyes bright. “Our synergy’s great, and our spells complement each other. What do you say, Eryndor? I heard the others already formed their teams.”

  Alwen would be a huge help. Pica... maybe not as much. But at least she could stay behind and support us with her Treant.

  I thought for a moment before answering. “On one condition. You both follow the plan I’ve prepared, no arguments. I spent a lot of time researching at the Archive.”

  “Agreed,” Alwen said instantly, brushing his messy brown curls out of his face. “We won last time because of your strategy, anyway.”

  I turned to Pica. “What about you?”

  She hesitated, her dark eyes shimmering. “Having someone who even wants me on their team is already more than I could ask for.”

  For a moment, the three of us just sat there, the timid, the spirited, and the overthinker, each quietly aware of what awaited us beyond tomorrow.

  Not long after, Vallen returned, carrying a large, dark-brown box, which she placed before us. Inside were dozens of potions, each bottle a different shape and color, neatly labeled with small handwritten tags.

  “Whoa, we actually get to pick one of these?” Alwen asked, eyes sparkling as he ran his fingers over the rows of glass.

  Even Pica, who had looked gloomy all day, seemed to brighten a little.

  For me, the choice was obvious. “I’ll take this one,” I said, picking up a small vial filled with crimson liquid, the same one Vallen had used to heal me.

  “I knew you’d pick that,” Vallen said with a faint smile. “You’ve already felt how effective it is.”

  I nodded. Truth was, aside from its usefulness, it was also the most expensive one in the box.

  “I’ll take this then!” Alwen announced, snatched a Thunderlash Vial with a grin. “This’ll help me a lot. Thanks, Instructor Vallen!”

  Vallen gave him a small approving nod, which only made his grin wider.

  Meanwhile, Pica still looked uncertain, her eyes darting from one potion to the next.

  After a moment, I pointed at a small, clear-white vial. “You should take the Sage Serum.”

  “That’s actually what I was about to suggest,” Vallen said, sounding impressed.

  Pica hesitated, then picked it up carefully. “Th-thanks,” she murmured, barely audible.

  We lingered for a few minutes, exchanging quiet talk and last-minute tips, until Vallen told Pica to return to practice. Alwen and I said our goodbyes and slipped out into the cool night.

  As we crossed the clearing toward the Nest, the colossal tree rose against the dark, its balconies lit by a handful of lanterns. Sleep felt like the only sensible thing left between now and tomorrow.

  We climbed the spiral stairs in silence, too tired to talk. I’d barely gone up a handful of steps when a broad shadow filled the stairwell.

  “Move. I’m coming down,” a voice barked.

  Heavy boots clomped down the steps. Then he appeared, barreling forward, deliberately blocking our path.

  I hadn’t even reacted when Alwen tugged me aside to let him through. But apparently, that wasn’t enough. He brushed against us on purpose.

  “I know you’re built like a pig, but there’s plenty of space for you to walk through,” I said casually.

  “Big talk for a twig,” he sneered. “You looking for trouble now?” he went on, raising his fist.

  Alwen pulled on my sleeve, but I wasn’t in the mood to let it slide. “Go on, hit me if you’ve got the guts.”

  “I’m not that stupid, idiot,” he growled.

  Attacking someone inside Willow’s End was a serious offense, one none of us could afford tonight.

  “Just wait,” he threatened, leaning close enough that I could smell his awful breath. “Watch your back.”

  “I think you said that last time,” I replied calmly. “It’s getting old.”

  “Bastard. I’ll rip that smart mouth off your face,” he spat.

  “Oh, I’m terrified,” I said, raising both hands dramatically. “Please, have mercy.”

  He scowled, unable to come up with a comeback, then stomped off down the stairs.

  “Hey, Piggy,” I called after him.

  He turned, glaring.

  “I met your brother, the Bramblehog,” I said with a mocking smile. “It told me to remind you to wash your filthy butt properly.”

  For a moment, I thought he’d charge at me, but he said nothing and walked away instead.

  "You're insane, Eryndor," Alwen said with a chuckle after the figure disappeared. "I like it!"

  “I needed some entertainment after such a long day,” I replied.

  “But what if he actually comes after you later?”

  “You know the chance of running into him inside the Tower is really small, right? Don’t worry about it,” I said.

  Still, the moment those words left my mouth, an uneasy feeling crept into my chest.

  ***

  By the time I reached the upper platform of the Nest, every step felt like wading through tar. My arms trembled, my grip slick with sweat as I pulled myself up the last vine.

  Even in the game, climbing to the top room of the Nest took time and couldn’t be skipped. But here? The effort felt ten times worse.

  Alwen grabbed my hand and helped me over the edge. The air inside the top chamber smelled faintly of flowery scents mixed with the scent of old wood. Rows of simple beds and small cabinets filled the space, our temporary haven.

  “How about the prize rewards?” Callen asked as soon as he saw us, folding a robe on his bed. “What did you two get?”

  “Thunderlash Vial for me,” Alwen said. “Eryndor got a medium healing potion. Packing up already, huh?”

  “Yeah. You should too,” Callen said. “It’s taking longer than I expected.”

  “You got Silver Bark Sap?” Riven called out, rummaging through potion ingredients. “I’ll trade for it.”

  Alwen and I shook our heads. Riven sighed theatrically and went back to sorting.

  “Wait, where’s Orin?” Alwen asked, noticing her empty bed.

  “She said there’s something she needs to do,” Sable replied, brushing her long black hair. “She shouldn’t be gone long though. Why?”

  “Nothing,” Alwen muttered, his face turning as red as his nose. “Just checking.”

  “Ooh, someone’s blushing,” Fenric teased with a grin. “You know, she still doesn’t have a team.”

  “Wait, really?” I asked, surprised. “I thought she was with Callen and Sable.”

  “Nope,” Callen said, shaking his head. “Sable and I joined Alton’s group. Orin said she had other plans.”

  “Maybe her ‘other plans’ involve you, Alwen,” Fenric added, eyes glinting with mischief.

  “Shut it. I need silence to concentrate,” Alton muttered without looking up from his notes.

  Fenric rolled his eyes, but didn’t respond. Arguing with him would only waste time.

  The room quieted after that, each of us busy with our own preparations. The earlier laughter faded, replaced by the rustle of packs, the soft clink of glass, and the occasional sigh.

  I didn’t mind. The silence was exactly what I needed. My pack was already prepared: rations, spare clothes, the route for tomorrow. One last check, and it was done.

  I took a quick bath, letting the cool water wash away the weight of the day, then lay down on the mattress. Muscles ached, but it was a good kind of ache, the kind that reminded me I was still alive.

  The soft rustle of leaves outside blended with the creak of the Nest’s wooden walls, a steady lullaby for the restless. Lantern light flickered across the ceiling, dimming as my eyelids grew heavy.

  Tomorrow, the Tower would open its gates. No checkpoints, no respawns, no second chances.

  For the first time since I woke up in this world, I wasn’t sure if I was ready.

  But there was no other option.