#FridayFlash – The Tower
The Oculus Tower stood to the north of Rhodenius, clinging to an outcrop of rock above the sprawling city. The blocks of the tower grew out of the granite cliff, pointing upwards like an accusatory finger. Perhaps long ago its architect blamed the citizens of Rhodenius for some terrible error, but none were alive to remember its construction, or the reason for its design.
Its position and height made the tower an ideal vantage point, but the Monarch had grown complacent, believing no one would dare attack a behemoth like Rhodenius. The garrison, such as it was, remained in the Keep, near the south of the city, and the tower had been left to rot.
Yet there was one in the city who believed in the value of high places, and she lived there halfway between the earth and the sky. Her rooms at the top of the tower were high enough that the slums below seemed quaint in the afternoon sunlight, but low enough to avoid the incessant winds. The air was clear, purified by the low-lying mist that often swept through the city, but Artemuse had not chosen the tower for its health benefits. She wanted the moonlight, and the view of the horizon.
Artemuse rose each evening with the moon, and sat on the balcony on the north face of the tower. She could see little of the city from this side of her rooms but the city did not concern her. The growing darkness far beyond the reach of mortal sight was more important than the daily business of the traders and workers below. Each night, she left her body and roamed the night skies, a psychic watchdog on the edges of human consciousness. Occasionally she noticed other beings in the ether, creatures that were sometimes curious but nearly always shy, but mostly she returned to her body at dawn, both relieved and worried that nothing had happened.
Eighty nine days after commencing her watch, compelled to take up her place after a vision confirmed her suspicions, Artemuse followed her regular ritual, and left her body. She danced through the night as a silver speck of starlight, her keen eyes focused on the horizon, watchful for invaders.
She saw their spears first, glinting in the pale moonlight. The night air rang with the sound of thousands of feet marching across sunbaked soil, weary yet determined. She drew nearer, wary of drawing the attention of the wraiths and shifters that prowled the edges of the approaching company. She recognised the skull sigil on the black banners that rippled in the darkness.
Artemuse fled across the astral plane, plunging back into her body. She wished that the Monarch had taken her suspicions seriously, and placed a messenger at her door should she have news to send. Many in the city thought her crazy, and the tower came to be avoided if possible.
Seizing a bottle from her workbench, she tipped the silver draught down her throat. A screech erupted from her mouth in the moment before it became a beak, and she shed her skin to make way for snow white feathers. Artemuse the Astral Mage had returned from her vigil, and now Artemuse the Owl left the tower, flitting across the city to ring the warning bell at the cathedral just outside the Keep.
The snow owl plunged through an open window, landing inside the guard post. The guard, a boy of no more than thirteen, slept in a chair beyond the bell pulls. She shed her feathers which fell to the floor as a single cloak, revealing snow white skin beneath. Artemuse ignored the sleeping boy and reached for a single black pull. The velvet was soft beneath her fingers, and she muttered a prayer as she hauled on the rope.
For the first time in three hundred years, the Death Knell was heard in Rhodenius.
