Deus Necros

The Watch Hollow had no entrance.

Ludwig circled the narrow structure once, looking for a door, ladder, or even a break in the seamless white blocks. The tower rose from the edge of the platform like a single piece, its pale walls perfectly smooth and untouched by wind or age.

”There’s no way inside,” Celine said, studying the unbroken surface. Not even the joints between the blocks offered a visible gap.

Kaiser continued examining the tower. ”There is always a way inside. Whether it wishes to let us out afterward is another question.”

Ludwig approached the wall, but the moment his boot crossed onto the final row of white paving stones, something shifted inside the tower.

A soft scraping sound moved through the structure as the wall directly in front of Ludwig separated. Individual cubes slid backward without grinding against one another, retreating into the structure and creating a narrow opening. Beyond it waited a hollow circular chamber with no visible stairs.

Ludwig stepped inside, and the white cubes moved again. Several emerged from the inner wall and suspended themselves in the air. One settled beside Ludwig’s foot, another shifted above it, and then another followed, each block fitting against the next until a staircase began spiraling around the interior of the tower.

No hands assembled it, and no magic circle appeared. The tower had merely recognized that someone wished to climb.

Kaiser entered behind Ludwig and looked upward as the staircase continued forming ahead of them. ”It was waiting.”

”That sounds like concern,” Ludwig said. He tested the first block with his weight before stepping higher.

”It is.” Kaiser kept his eyes on the ascending cubes.

”I thought you found this interesting.” Ludwig glanced back at the lich.

”The two are not mutually exclusive.” Kaiser stepped onto the first block as Cain followed them into the structure.

Celine came after him, though her gaze remained on the moving cubes. The strongest tribesman entered reluctantly with one of his companions, leaving Tull, Redd, Thomas, and the others on the platform below.

”Stay here,” Ludwig told them. ”If anything changes, shout.”

Tull looked from him to the featureless walls. ”Would we even know if something changed?”

”Shout anyway,” Ludwig replied. A warning without details would still be better than silence.

”That is your plan?” Tull asked, his disbelief plain.

”It has worked before.” Ludwig offered no examples.

”Has it?” Tull called after him, but Ludwig began climbing before he could demand examples.

The staircase assembled just ahead of Ludwig’s feet and disappeared behind the last person in the group. Cubes withdrew silently into the walls, erasing the route they had taken. After several turns, Celine glanced back and said, ”The stairs are vanishing.”

”Efficient,” Kaiser said. ”It only creates what is currently needed.”

Celine watched another block recede into the wall. ”Or it is making sure we cannot descend quickly.”

”That too,” Kaiser conceded. He continued climbing without any change in pace.

The tribesman walking behind Celine breathed heavily despite the slow pace. He was not tired. His body trembled from the effort of moving toward something his mind had spent years trying to bury.

The climb took several minutes before the staircase opened into a circular chamber exposed to the wind. There were no windows because there were barely any walls. White pillars supported a shallow roof, leaving every side open to the gray sky and the abyss below.

There was no telescope, crystal lens, or scrying pool. The chamber contained only a rectangular frame made from white cubes, positioned at the edge and facing the palace directly.

Kaiser approached first but stopped before looking through it. ”Subtle.”

”It’s a frame,” Ludwig said. Nothing about the collection of blocks appeared remarkable from where he stood.

”It is a frame pointed at a structure miles away,” Kaiser replied. ”I doubt its purpose is decorative.”

The elder tribesman remained near the staircase and refused to look toward it. His companion had already covered his eyes with one hand.

Ludwig walked to the frame. From outside it, the palace remained distant, beautiful, but far enough away that individual windows appeared as little more than dark marks across the pale walls.

He leaned closer and looked through. Distance disappeared, and the palace filled his sight.

The frame did not simply magnify the structure. It seemed to remove the space between them, presenting the white citadel as though Ludwig stood just beyond one of its open balconies.

He saw gardens first. Trees grew beneath a vast glass ceiling, their branches heavy with red, gold, and violet fruit. Clear water moved through channels carved into the floor, passing beneath small bridges and feeding pools so clean that every pale stone at the bottom could be counted.

Warm light filled the gardens. It was neither firelight nor the harsh glow of magic. It was something gentle, steady, and safe.

Beyond the gardens stretched immense open halls. White pillars rose toward vaulted ceilings while long tables filled the space between them, all covered with fresh bread, bowls of fruit, roasted meat, and clear water inside crystal cups. There was enough to feed an army.

Hundreds of people sat before it, and every one of them was alive. The realization held Ludwig’s attention more firmly than any corpse could have.

Ludwig had expected corpses, prisoners, chains, or bodies twisted by whatever cruelty Sloth had created within his domain. There were none. The people were clean, their hair washed and their clothes soft and unmarked. Their faces showed no starvation, disease, or injury. Some were thin, but none looked malnourished, while others appeared healthier than anyone Ludwig had encountered since entering the Dark Continent.

One man sat with a cup raised near his lips, but he did not drink. A woman rested beside an open window and stared into the empty air beyond it without blinking. A child sat before a plate of sliced fruit, one hand resting beside the food.

None of them moved. There was no fear, urgency, or pain in their expressions. They simply sat.

Ludwig felt Kaiser approach beside him. The lich looked through the frame, and his amusement vanished. Cain joined them, followed reluctantly by Celine. For several moments, none of them spoke.

The palace was not hiding a nightmare beneath its beauty. The beauty was real. The water was clean, the fruit fresh, and the rooms warm. No monsters hunted through the corridors, and no guards whipped the inhabitants back into place. There were no cages because no one tried to leave.

”They have everything,” Celine whispered as she stared through the frame. The words sounded less like wonder than a warning.

”Yes,” Kaiser said, his gaze fixed upon the distant hall. For once, he found nothing amusing in what he saw.

Ludwig’s eyes moved across the silent gathering. A woman near one of the windows slowly turned her head until her gaze settled on the Watch Hollow.

She could see them. A faint smile appeared across her face, making her expression seem peaceful, but her eyes were not.

They widened slightly, and something desperate moved within them. Her lips parted, but no sound crossed the chasm. She didn’t speak, didn’t need to, or didn’t feel like it was worth speaking.

After all, one doesn’t need to even hear the words to understand that another needs help.