MABEL
Something called to her.
The Spire had always been a part of the background, the scenery, the surroundings, for her entire life. She’d known of its existence, its parallels, its modicums for as long as she could remember – demonic presences guarding it, until Outlanders came and forged onward, until they pressed and scourged their way within, until walls and stone became markers of something else entirely.
Like her Goddess. Like a visual representation of all her strength, dignity, power, and poise. Like something to be feared, by all the other lesser, weaker individuals, hoping for a sign, an answer, from their Old Gods.
But Mabel knew better.
However, she’d never traversed into its confines. Too busy with other multitudes, the youth hadn’t ignored the tower per se, but had wandered around it. Only now did it seem to express some sentiment, some rumination, deep within her soul. And she had to know.
She had to find it.
The Spire had always been a part of the background, the scenery, the surroundings, for her entire life. She’d known of its existence, its parallels, its modicums for as long as she could remember – demonic presences guarding it, until Outlanders came and forged onward, until they pressed and scourged their way within, until walls and stone became markers of something else entirely.
Like her Goddess. Like a visual representation of all her strength, dignity, power, and poise. Like something to be feared, by all the other lesser, weaker individuals, hoping for a sign, an answer, from their Old Gods.
But Mabel knew better.
However, she’d never traversed into its confines. Too busy with other multitudes, the youth hadn’t ignored the tower per se, but had wandered around it. Only now did it seem to express some sentiment, some rumination, deep within her soul. And she had to know.
She had to find it.
If you dig under my feet
You will find things that you don't want to see
You will find things that you don't want to see
