Tomebound, a Litrpg Tower Climbing Adventure

“No feather blown across the world is named ‘magic.’

We blame the wind and move about our day.

Yet when we read a thing and it becomes a truth,

We brand it sorcery and give it power too.

All things equal, the chances of such things are about as likely,

But the one that’s commonplace we try not to explain,

And the rarity we excuse.”

~~ High Scholar Vorvor, on the Science of Scripture

There was something about Moose that made him loom large in Callam’s memory. It might have been the tenor of his voice, already grating like rocks when other boys still suffered the occasional crack or whistle. Or it could have been his cavernous mouth, constantly occupied with words or with food. Perhaps, even, it was his balding head, so high up Callam had to tilt his head to see it.

By all accounts, the boy seemed more mountain than man. And, like most explorers, Callam sought what lay on the other side of the peaks: Lenora. Stepping out from behind Moose’s enormous frame, she waved an eager hello. Her blue eyes glittered in the sunlight as she adopted a serious tone.

“Far from the chapel aren’t you, tomebound?”

Callam grinned back. To his credit, he did feel a little silly doing so. He’d had time to think about her after Binding Day and had realized he had too few friends to allow himself some schoolboy’s crush. Certainly, Siela would never have tolerated such foolishness from him—she’d hated when tavernboys had feigned friendship just for a chance at her hand.

Still, he was looking forward to getting to know Lenora better, and it was nice to see two familiar faces—it helped settle his stomach a bit. “Well, you practically promised me I’d make it here,” he pointed out.

“Doesn’t mean I believed it. Maybe I’m just kind—or a Seer?”

“Maybe both,” he said, and together they started to follow the crowd to the small cove where Arlie now stood. Clusters of palms framed the beach, their naked trunks dwarfed by the Tower and circled by the occasional seagull. Callam might have found the scene picturesque, had he not been so focused on avoiding an uncomfortable silence. Thankfully, Moose spoke up:

“So what’s the truth, then?”

“...of?”

“Lenora wove tales of ink fiends and sorcery.” he said, then took a bite of the sandwich he’d retrieved from his bag. Between mouthfuls, he continued, “Told me… you were nearly flattened by a tiny Broken. ‘posedly the thing… was drier than a nib. To let such a paltry deserter get in your way—”

“That…that’s—I did not!” Lenora yelped, spinning to face the larger boy. When he nearly choked on his food in laughter, she turned back to Callam, her cheeks coloring. “Moose left early, so I told him how the largest Broken this side of legend attacked the dais soon after I’d bound. I’ve still no clue how you…”

“... how I survived?” Callam asked when she trailed off. They’d almost reached Arlie now, so he wasn’t quite sure if Lenora had dropped the thread to pay attention to her, or to be polite. He was just thankful he sounded less flustered than the last time they’d met.

“That. Exactly that,” Moose took second to wipe his beard clean. “Nora can be pretty direct ‘round personal matters. Filthy Freemen upbring and all—”

Whatever he’d intended to say next was drowned out by a transparent bubble that quickly covered the majority of the nearby beach. It was a good thing too—by the looks of it, Lenora was about to show Moose exactly which filthy words a Freeman knew. Seconds later, Arlie’s magnified voice said, “Welcome to the unlit Lighthouse! Before we enter, there are a few things to remember. First, magic is not to be cast on Tower grounds unless monitored by a Scriptor. All spells loosed here will attract the neighboring beasts, and we’d hate it if you drove off the few barkeeps brave enough to settle these shores. Second, and this is vital. Climbs must be accompanied by a proctor until your second semester, even if the floor’s level is lesser than your tome’s star level.”

Several faces soured at that announcement, and Callam was certain he’d have heard the nobles groan if not for the magic barrier currently muting their voices. Can’t blame them, really. Creatures seldom soar as high as Tower climbers’ dreams. He personally hoped to start scaling the floors immediately.

“Lastly,” Arlie said, “I must remind you that Ruddites cannot tolerate the mana density inside the Tower. As such, they cannot pick up after you. Please remember that you are Seekers, not soilers, so try not to make a mess of our sanctuary.”

An audible pop later, the beach filled with enough laughter for the birds to want to join in. Squawks still echoed off the stone and sand when the outline of a massive door began to burn its way down the Lighthouse's facade, the sudden magic all but stealing Callam’s breath. There was a weight to it that he couldn’t describe; yet, judging by the gasps around him, others felt it too. Quickly, the spell on the stone solidified, the reddish glow of heated rock turning dark as strange symbols formed across its breadth. They looped and twisted, the craftsmanship in each line reminiscent of how text had appeared to him before he’d bound.

I wonder if—

Twin doors rumbled, drowning out his thoughts. At first the sound was tolerable, then it grew violent enough that the ground shook. Several students were caught unaware, forced to cup their ears or fight for footing. Not Callam though—he was far enough away to stay steady, and it would take more than a quake for him to tear his attention from the Tower.

The doors began to slowly swing inwards. Gold light pierced the void between them, warm and inviting. Winds came next. They whipped along the sands in a fierce tempo that drummed against the shore. Callam's heart beat like a bellow, even as he squinted to better see. He was overcome by an urgent need to climb—to scale the Lighthouse’s floors and be the very first to reach its summit. Instinctively, his eyes trailed the stories up, up, up, all the way to where the clouds obscured his view.

What secrets do they keep there? he wondered. A small voice inside asked: Why is there always some greater magic out of my reach?

Scriptors had once flown above him in a sky not dissimilar to this one. After seeing them, he’d raced to the chapelward to beg the Sisters to teach him magic. They’d pushed him to grow up instead—orphans were as likely to bind as an unbound was to write, and the streets were no place for a naïve child.

Now, as Callam gazed upon the heavens, he felt that childlike longing again. This time, though, he would not confine his hopes to the constraints of reality. His rational mind knew the Seeker’s Tower took lives—thousands had failed to climb it before him, and thousands were likely to try after him.

Those odds mattered little.

He’d reach the Lighthouse’s top first. There, he’d light its beacon and secure humanity’s victory over the beasts. Impossible things did happen; his Seedling was proof enough of that. And what were men but boys who’ve learned they’ll never touch the stars?

"…Always a sight," Moose said, drawing Callam back to the present. Around them, several others seemed to be exiting similar reveries, mouths hanging open like choir members mid song. Lenora, for one, kept her gaze fixed on the Lighthouse’s summit. She clutched her grimoire against her chest, and her bright lips moved wordlessly.

But not all tomebound were so bewitched. Like Moose, plenty of the older-looking students had kept their bearings—a quiet reminder that only some of those congregated here were first-years. At least a few had seen this all before and had simply shown up to accompany friends or siblings.

Positioning herself between the group and the Tower’s open doors, Arlie shouted, “Tomebound, I’m jealous! For most of you here, that was your first Scripting. As you progress through the Tower, your spellbook will learn more of your heart’s desires, and use these insights to customize chapters to your needs. Cherish the experience, for it might be months before you have another.”

With that, she tipped her yellow hat, giving an excuse about the other Seekers she had to greet today. She did stay around long enough for Callam to enter the Lighthouse—which didn’t take too long at all, given that he, Moose, and Lenora rushed the stone doors as one.

In that moment, they felt that neither the Prophet nor his Poet could have stood in their way.