Chapter 150: You fool!
The Tower of Echoes rose in pale blue stone across the plain.
It looked quieter than the previous two, almost calm. That made it worse.
Orin stopped the group a short distance from the entrance and spoke clearly.
"This tower repeats every sound you make and amplifies it. Footsteps, breathing, fabric moving — it all comes back louder. If the echoes build too much, they become lethal. You cannot fight this one with force. You have to move in controlled silence. Seraphina and Feng Lan will lead. They can shape the space enough to create short silent paths. The rest of us follow exactly and make as little noise as possible. The climb is long."
She looked at me.
"Your ribs are still damaged. Do not strain them. If the pain makes you breathe too hard, the tower will use it against us."
I nodded once.
We entered.
The first chamber was wide and empty. The moment the last person stepped inside, even the soft sound of boots on stone came back as a low roll of noise. Seraphina moved first, laying down a thin temporal field that dampened the immediate echoes. Feng Lan followed, weaving a tight formation that bent the returning sound away from the group. A narrow corridor of reduced noise opened ahead.
We took it.
The climb was slow and exhausting in a different way from the Tower of Bone.
Every movement had to be measured. No one spoke. Even adjusting a strap or shifting weight had to be done carefully. When someone slipped or breathed too sharply, the echo came back layered and stronger, forcing Seraphina and Feng Lan to work harder to keep the silent path intact. The deeper we went, the more the tower pressed against their control.
My broken ribs made it worse. Controlled breathing was difficult. Every so often a spike of pain forced a sharper inhale, and the tower immediately threw it back at us as a rolling wave of sound. Elizabeth stayed close on one side, Vale on the other, ready to steady me if the pain made me stumble. The rest of the group kept formation tight and quiet.
Hours passed.
The chambers all looked similar — pale blue stone, high ceilings, no visible threats except the sound itself. The real enemy was fatigue and the slow accumulation of small noises that Seraphina and Feng Lan had to keep suppressing. By the tenth hour both of them were pale and sweating from the constant effort. Thalia began helping by reading the finest vibrations and warning them before the echoes could spike. Orin directed the pacing so no one fell too far behind.
We kept climbing.
Fourteen hours after we entered, we reached the summit chamber.
It was smaller than the ones below and strangely still. In the center floated a pale seed, lighter in color than the previous two. Orin exhaled carefully and spoke in a voice barely above a whisper.
"Seed of Echoes. It lets the carrier hear the movement of cursed energy the way some of us feel vibration or current. The adjustment is usually overwhelming at first."
I stepped forward and took it.
The seed dissolved on contact and sank behind my eyes and into the center of my head.
The world changed.
Suddenly I could hear everything. Not with my ears — deeper than that. The flow of power inside every member of the group. The slow movement of energy through the pale grass outside. The distant pressure of the remaining towers. The residual currents left by our own climb. It all arrived at once, layered and loud, with no filter.
My knees went weak. Elizabeth and Vale caught me before I could fall. The new sense kept expanding, flooding in without pause. For a moment it was impossible to tell where my own power ended and everyone else’s began.
"Out," Elizabeth said quietly but firmly. "We get him outside before it gets worse."
The descent was faster than the climb. The tower did not fight us on the way down the way it had on the way up. Even so, every step sent new waves of information through the uncontrolled sense. By the time we stepped back onto the pale grass I was barely upright.
We made camp a short distance from the blue tower. Barriers went up quickly. Seraphina and Feng Lan collapsed into sitting positions, completely spent. The others moved with the quiet efficiency of people who had just finished a long, grinding trial.
I sat with my back against a pack, eyes half-closed, trying to ride out the flood of new information. The broken ribs still ached, and the sensory overload made it harder to keep my breathing steady.
Elizabeth crouched in front of me.
"How bad?"
"Too much at once," I managed. "No filter yet."
Thalia sat on one side, Orin on the other. Both of them began circulating small, controlled amounts of energy to help stabilize the new sense. Elizabeth stayed close. Vale checked the perimeter, then returned and sat nearby. One by one the others settled around us, not crowding, just present.
There was no attempt to turn the night into anything intense. The situation did not allow it. My body was still dealing with broken ribs and a sensory system that had been forced wide open. The group understood that without needing to discuss it.
Instead they took turns simply staying close. A hand on my shoulder. A steady presence at my back. Quiet circulation of energy when the overload spiked. Thalia and Orin did the most precise work, helping the new sense begin to settle into something usable rather than overwhelming. Elizabeth remained the constant point of reference whenever the flood of information became too disorienting.
Hours passed that way.
Late in the night the worst of the overload finally began to recede. The new sense was still raw and too open, but it no longer threatened to drown everything else. I could tell the difference between the people around me again. I could feel the distant towers as separate pressures instead of one continuous roar.
Only then did the contact shift slightly.
It stayed low and careful. Elizabeth rested against my side. Others remained close enough that the shared presence helped keep the new sense grounded. There was some intimacy later, when the pain and the overload had both dropped enough to allow it, but it was slow and limited — more about confirmation and relief than anything demanding. No one pushed further than the situation allowed.
By the time the white ribbon brightened again, the new sense had stabilized enough to be useful. The broken ribs remained sore but manageable. The group was intact.
The Tower of Echoes was finished.
Three towers down. Four remaining.
We packed in silence and turned toward the next one across the pale grass, moving with the steady pace of people who now understood that each tower would take something different, and that forcing anything beyond what the body and the situation allowed would only get someone killed.
The Tower of Echoes rose in pale blue stone across the plain.
It looked quieter than the previous two, almost calm. That made it worse.
Orin stopped the group a short distance from the entrance and spoke clearly.
"This tower repeats every sound you make and amplifies it. Footsteps, breathing, fabric moving — it all comes back louder. If the echoes build too much, they become lethal. You cannot fight this one with force. You have to move in controlled silence. Seraphina and Feng Lan will lead. They can shape the space enough to create short silent paths. The rest of us follow exactly and make as little noise as possible. The climb is long."
She looked at me.
"Your ribs are still damaged. Do not strain them. If the pain makes you breathe too hard, the tower will use it against us."
I nodded once.
We entered.
The first chamber was wide and empty. The moment the last person stepped inside, even the soft sound of boots on stone came back as a low roll of noise. Seraphina moved first, laying down a thin temporal field that dampened the immediate echoes. Feng Lan followed, weaving a tight formation that bent the returning sound away from the group. A narrow corridor of reduced noise opened ahead.
We took it.
The climb was slow and exhausting in a different way from the Tower of Bone.
Every movement had to be measured. No one spoke. Even adjusting a strap or shifting weight had to be done carefully. When someone slipped or breathed too sharply, the echo came back layered and stronger, forcing Seraphina and Feng Lan to work harder to keep the silent path intact. The deeper we went, the more the tower pressed against their control.
My broken ribs made it worse. Controlled breathing was difficult. Every so often a spike of pain forced a sharper inhale, and the tower immediately threw it back at us as a rolling wave of sound. Elizabeth stayed close on one side, Vale on the other, ready to steady me if the pain made me stumble. The rest of the group kept formation tight and quiet.
Hours passed.
The chambers all looked similar — pale blue stone, high ceilings, no visible threats except the sound itself. The real enemy was fatigue and the slow accumulation of small noises that Seraphina and Feng Lan had to keep suppressing. By the tenth hour both of them were pale and sweating from the constant effort. Thalia began helping by reading the finest vibrations and warning them before the echoes could spike. Orin directed the pacing so no one fell too far behind.
We kept climbing.
Fourteen hours after we entered, we reached the summit chamber.
It was smaller than the ones below and strangely still. In the center floated a pale seed, lighter in color than the previous two. Orin exhaled carefully and spoke in a voice barely above a whisper.
"Seed of Echoes. It lets the carrier hear the movement of cursed energy the way some of us feel vibration or current. The adjustment is usually overwhelming at first."
I stepped forward and took it.
The seed dissolved on contact and sank behind my eyes and into the center of my head.
The world changed.
Suddenly I could hear everything. Not with my ears — deeper than that. The flow of power inside every member of the group. The slow movement of energy through the pale grass outside. The distant pressure of the remaining towers. The residual currents left by our own climb. It all arrived at once, layered and loud, with no filter.
My knees went weak. Elizabeth and Vale caught me before I could fall. The new sense kept expanding, flooding in without pause. For a moment it was impossible to tell where my own power ended and everyone else’s began.
"Out," Elizabeth said quietly but firmly. "We get him outside before it gets worse."
The descent was faster than the climb. The tower did not fight us on the way down the way it had on the way up. Even so, every step sent new waves of information through the uncontrolled sense. By the time we stepped back onto the pale grass I was barely upright.
We made camp a short distance from the blue tower. Barriers went up quickly. Seraphina and Feng Lan collapsed into sitting positions, completely spent. The others moved with the quiet efficiency of people who had just finished a long, grinding trial.
I sat with my back against a pack, eyes half-closed, trying to ride out the flood of new information. The broken ribs still ached, and the sensory overload made it harder to keep my breathing steady.
Elizabeth crouched in front of me.
"How bad?"
"Too much at once," I managed. "No filter yet."
Thalia sat on one side, Orin on the other. Both of them began circulating small, controlled amounts of energy to help stabilize the new sense. Elizabeth stayed close. Vale checked the perimeter, then returned and sat nearby. One by one the others settled around us, not crowding, just present.
There was no attempt to turn the night into anything intense. The situation did not allow it. My body was still dealing with broken ribs and a sensory system that had been forced wide open. The group understood that without needing to discuss it.
Instead they took turns simply staying close. A hand on my shoulder. A steady presence at my back. Quiet circulation of energy when the overload spiked. Thalia and Orin did the most precise work, helping the new sense begin to settle into something usable rather than overwhelming. Elizabeth remained the constant point of reference whenever the flood of information became too disorienting.
Hours passed that way.
Late in the night the worst of the overload finally began to recede. The new sense was still raw and too open, but it no longer threatened to drown everything else. I could tell the difference between the people around me again. I could feel the distant towers as separate pressures instead of one continuous roar.
Only then did the contact shift slightly.
It stayed low and careful. Elizabeth rested against my side. Others remained close enough that the shared presence helped keep the new sense grounded. There was some intimacy later, when the pain and the overload had both dropped enough to allow it, but it was slow and limited — more about confirmation and relief than anything demanding. No one pushed further than the situation allowed.
By the time the white ribbon brightened again, the new sense had stabilized enough to be useful. The broken ribs remained sore but manageable. The group was intact.
The Tower of Echoes was finished.
Three towers down. Four remaining.
We packed in silence and turned toward the next one across the pale grass, moving with the steady pace of people who now understood that each tower would take something different, and that forcing anything beyond what the body and the situation allowed would only get someone killed.