Old Friend

They stripped Vysa of her armor until she was down to a simple white tunic and black leggings. They tied her arms behind her back, and her legs at the knees and ankles. Everyone carried an assortment of things, but only Cinza was resourceful enough to have rope ready.

The woman barely complained, though Kyr made sure one wrong move would send three fireballs directly at her face. They locked eyes the entire time.

“What are you doing here?” Leatrix asked the former mercenary. “Shouldn’t you be at the Spire of Resolve with Ilara?”

“I could ask you all the same,” Vysa said sarcastically. “Entrance to the spire stays open for a while, so I followed you. With the hero’s parade right around the corner, you should’ve been more careful.”

“Had the final spire been conquered?” Nowe interjected. “Is it complete?”

Vysa frowned at the princess.

“I was wondering if it was you, your highness,” the former mercenary scoffed. “Still masquerading to be a scholar, eh? Unfortunately, the answer is no. Have none of you heard? Bah, I suppose there’s no reason to announce the damned thing… I was let go. Relieved of my duties as a guardian.”

“The hell did you do?” Cinza asked. “Bite someone's face off?”

Vysa stared at the butler's bruised nose, then laughed out loud.

“Actually, I did,” she said, after a while. “Heir to a great house or something. Sun above, it felt good putting that asshole in his place. But it doesn’t really matter that I left. There are too many people guarding the new hero. It’s very different from when we did it, Kyr. Now there’s dozens… hundreds of knights at the hero’s beck and call. King only allows guardians inside the tower, but everyone gets to contribute by clearing the way outside.”

“What are you doing here?” Leatrix repeated her question, impatience dancing over her features.

Vysa sighed.

“I was drowning my sorrows over at Serami when I heard Kyr Solian escaped prison. The people there don’t really care, but then I realized… I still have a grudge to settle.” She tilted her head mockingly, her dark eyes squinting. “If Kyr would go anywhere in Vastille… it would probably be this tower. If not, well, I really liked the parade around these parts. They have really good booze! Imagine my surprise when you actually appeared, walking around as if nothing ever happened.”

As if nothing… ever happened?

Six long years.

Mana raged inside Kyr. Vysa was too stupid to understand mana, but she must’ve felt it when her muscles stiffened.

“Funny,” Kyr said. “I too have a grudge to settle.”

He liked this woman six years ago. He even started thinking of her not just as a friend but family. Unlike Jessa, Morick, or Radon, she never attended his trial, but they read her statement plain for him to hear. “He betrayed us. He attacked me and burned Lumis to the ground.”

For six long years, he cursed at the memory of her.

Kyr felt mana wobble at the tips of his fingers.

He imagined terrible things when he was in prison. While he was chained, beaten, or simply left to rot in his solitary cell, he imagined what a happy life these traitors must be living.

Oh, how he'd unleash every bit of magic he could muster when they finally crossed paths again. 

Now he's got his chance. 

She probably killed Aven anyway.

Aven...

Why would Vysa kill Aven? 

If Kyr didn't, if he had absolutely no reason to, then why would any of his former friends?

“That’s an interesting way of thinking,” Leatrix suddenly said, cutting between them. “Why would you assume Kyr Solian would come to this place specifically?”

Vysa slowly turned from Kyr to the inquisitor. 

Leatrix looked up and gestured around the damaged room of statues. “This is where he supposedly killed Aven, correct? Why would he return here?”

Vysa didn’t answer.

“There’s only one reason for Kyr to come here,” Leatrix said. “You thought he would come here because he’s innocent. You thought he would come here to find the truth.”

Vysa's intense glare faltered. She didn’t say anything for a long time, but eventually she hung her head. “I suppose… I considered it,” she muttered.

“Did you kill Aven Naswalt?” Leatrix asked.

“No.”

“What happened six years ago?”

“You all know the story," Vysa said with a shake of her head. "Kyr attacked us, we ran, Lumis burned. Later, we found Kyr inside this tower lying next to Aven’s corpse.”

“That says nothing about killing Aven.”

“No, it doesn't. But who else could it be?”

“Would Kyr have any reason to kill his friend?”

“No, but he had no reason to do this to me, either!” Vysa strained her neck as if to push her face forward. As if to indicate the eyepatch over her wounded eye.

“You think I did that?” Kyr asked in surprise.

“Oh, but I hit you hard, didn’t I?” Vysa said between gritted teeth. “Straight to the chin. Broke your stupid glasses and knocked that funny sorcerer's hat off your head. Did it hurt? Well, not as much my bloody eye!”

Kyr had absolutely no idea what the woman was talking about.

Vysa waited for him to say something… then sighed when he didn’t.

“I don’t know,” she said, looking away. “It was a weird night. I… I don’t know what happened to you.”

“I have no memories of what happened after I beat up Radon,” Kyr said. “That I confess to. But I don’t know anything after that. Except for one thing. I know I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t want to hurt you.”

And there it was. 

Despite all the time he spent hating his former friends, there was one thing that remained truer in his heart. He didn't want to do it. He didn't want to hate them. He didn't want to hurt them. No matter how much he clung on to hate, deep down he'd rather cling to something different. He'd rather cling on the hope that they were just as innocent as he was.

His mana eased slowly.

“Well… you did stare at me at lot back then," Vysa said. "You used to blush when I caught you looking.”

“What?”

“Admit it. You think I’m attractive.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You know, I would’ve slept with you if you just asked.”

“I—”

The group slowly turned to face Kyr as if he initiated this mockery.

Vysa’s laugh reverberated in the room. Maybe the spire. “So I can still make you red in the face, sorcerer! You’re the Kyr I remember.”

And she was the Vysa he remembered.

“The inquisitor is right,” Vysa admitted. “I didn’t know if you were innocent or not, but a part of me still believe something happened here. Maybe the ghosts got to you. Or the thing buried beneath the spire.”

“Ghosts?” Roy asked. "Y-You mean..."

“The ones that haunt the spires," Vysa said, frowning at the sorcerer. "Surely, Kyr must've mentioned it to you. They're the ones who give the hero and their guardians the test. Ilara already activated this spire, so I doubt they’d show again.”

“Could they have killed Aven?” Cinza asked.

Vysa shrugged. “Directly? No. They're incapable of leaving the testing room and this spire doesn't even require fighting. Besides, creepy as the creatures were, their whole purpose is to serve the sacred rites."

“Did you take the test in this tower?” Kyr asked.

“Of course,” Vysa replied. “I refused its offer of knowledge easily. It'd be a different story if it could answer absolutely any question, but that's not how it worked. I don't have any desire for ancient wisdom.”

Ancient, huh? 

Kyr wondered about that. He and the others have spoken in length about what the ghosts could be and where they came from. Whether they could be the obvious Specter they were looking for.

“They might be a form of old magic,” Nowe suggested once. “I don't know if its real, but clearly there are things we don't understand from our own history.”

Nobody took the ‘old magics’ seriously. Especially the magic academy. They explained it as nothing more than ancient folk tales during a time when mana wasn’t fully understood. Even the sacred order found the stories blasphemous.

Kyr used to think similarly until he entered a spire for the first time. 

The ghosts appeared like smoke given form. They were strange and nebulous, as if made using magic, except... they didn't have or use mana.

Whatever the creatures were, the king knew about them. If they could have anything to do with Aven's murder, then they must've already taken it into consideration.

“Did the ghosts behave differently in all the spires you’ve been to?” Leatrix asked their captive. “Did they do anything to support your theory?”

Vysa shook her head. “Far from it, actually. The ghosts are dull minded. The most they do is cackle every now and then and spout whatever they needed to say for the tests. The Spire of Resilience have us endure their relentless assault, like the Spire of Strength except... more. I thought they’d do something to me then, but they never did. Not to any of us.”

“And the final spire?” Nowe asked.

“They riddled us with questions,” Vysa said with a shrug. “The ghosts asked how many people I’ve killed. And if I feel bad about them.”

“Do you?” Roy asked.

“Of course, I damn well do,” Vysa snapped. “But I don’t know what they bloody want. Not Ilara, not anyone. So, they keep trying over there. Answering stupid questions nobody knows the answer to.”

“What about the other thing you said?” Cinza asked. “You know, thing buried beneath the spire.”

Vysa raised an eyebrow at Kyr.

“You haven’t shown them?” the former mercenary asked in surprise. “Then what the hell have you all been doing down here while I waited upstairs?”