"Oh, for the love of...", Gale grimaced as he ran his hand along the stones of the tower.

A door appeared before his eyes. The wood was heavy, studded with metal hinges and so old that even he had to whistle in awe.

On the other hand, something tightened in his stomach. Locked, ancient doors usually didn't bode well. Gale should know, after all, he had spent most of his time since his fall from Mystra's chosen trying to find ancient artefacts that could quench the endless maw.

Magic pulsated under his fingertips as his eyes travelled through the dark land. He didn't know how far or how long he had walked, but this tower was the only point of orientation.

All this time he had encountered nothing but burnt trees and ash in the air. Perhaps this land was enchanted and he had always been meant to find this one tower.

Or maybe he had just been lucky. Or unlucky.

Something slumbered behind this old stone. He could literally taste magic from days long gone flowing through it like water through a stream.

Not only did his affinity for magic respond to it, but this cursed piece of weave nestled in his body seemed to be calling out for it. As if it had found a brother again after a long period of solitude.

Whether Gale wanted it or not, this place was calling to him, to what pulsed in his chest. Dull light shimmered in the threads that ran like the ink of a tattoo up to his left eye.

On a good day, it faded until the naked eye could barely see it. But now that the desire was strong, he probably couldn't even hide it if he tried.

Again he looked around. He hesitated frighteningly often that day. Perhaps this was due to the fact that his will was waning as much as his physical strength.

Everything was consumed by the orb until nothing was left. Not even the memory of him. Gale breathed out shakily, little sparks of violet magic dancing around his left ear.

Sometimes he thought she was still with him in the darkest hours of his life. Other days, Gale knew she was only doing it for her own amusement.

"By the gods.", he growled and put his hand on the wood of the door.

The hinges hummed softly as his magic came into contact with them. Maybe he was imagining it, but he could have sworn the lock had been sealed. Now that his palms were exerting light pressure, the massive door simply gave way and slid open inwards.

Darkness awaited him in the tower. The air smelled stuffy and dry. But there was also something else. As he took the first step inside, he felt like he was inside a volcano.

Gale had travelled far in his predicament and had seen many places. Avernus had not been one of those places and yet he had once visited a land that had been as burning hot as he imagined it to be in the maw of hell.

Now he was overcome by a familiar feeling, although he had to admit that this heat was not unpleasant. It was the kind of warmth he knew from the fireplace in his library in Waterdeep. The kind that slid under flesh, sparing muscles and freeing old bones from pain.

Gale had to admit that he felt welcome. So much so that a soft sigh slipped from his lips. Inhaling deeply, he closed his eyes and took it all in.

He didn't even notice that the door had closed behind him. When he opened his eyes again and turned round to close it, everything was gone. Only bare stone stood opposite him.

"An illusion?", he mumbled into the emptiness.

His own voice echoed off the bare walls. However, he wasn't sure if it was an illusion. He could sense magic, but this place definitely had an existence that was anchored in reality.

The stone beneath his hands was rough and the ground beneath his feet was solid. Torches lined the vault in which he now stood at regular intervals.

It was a small room, utilised solely by a staircase to unrecognisable heights.

"A portal perhaps...", he mused, glancing upwards. "But then I should have felt it... Was the door enchanted? Or is it an illusion?"

Again, purple light lit up in his hands with words from a foreign language. But when he had finished casting the spell, nothing changed.

"Fascinating.", Gale climbed the first step.

Unlike he had expected, it did not give way beneath him. The staircase was real and with it everything around him. He took one last hesitant look at the place where the door had once been.

His magic had no effect in this place and he had nowhere else to go. All that was left for him was to follow the stairs, wherever they led. So he did just that and began to climb.

With every step he thought he was falling back two. The stairs were endless. The walls were bare and the tower so narrow that if he had fallen, he could have grabbed onto the steps below.

Still, this place felt like so much more. Even though Gale had seen a lot in his life, he couldn't describe it. The room he was in was so high and the tower so strangely shaped that it couldn't have been possible.

No mortal hand was capable of building such a thing. Moreover, he was almost certain that the staircase led to something.

There wouldn't have been room for several rooms in this narrow space, but perhaps whole levels. Now and then he began to count, but he always came to a standstill.

Step by step.

Stone by stone.

Every torch on the wall looked the same. Sometimes he whispered a spell into the silence and again and again it faded into nothing.

Nothing like this had ever happened to him before. He could feel his mana being drained, but it didn't turn into magic. As if the air itself was consuming it.

"Tara...", sweat dripped from his forehead from exertion. "How... did I end up here?"

In his exhaustion, he closed his eyes. It was only for a moment, a single second of heedlessness.

When he opened them again and looked to the side, Gale stared into a long corridor.