The next few seconds after Nasha started to explain his predicament he was filled with turmoil. Apparently the tower referred to so much was the tower of fantasy, the name itself sounded innocent, and almost childish in itself but in truth it harboured a different meaning, a darker meaning.
It came as no surprise that the tower of fantasy was not a warm loving place filled with dancing fairies and magic unicorns, it was in one word, hell.
The tower itself according to what he was being told had not definitive origins, according to others it's always been there. Those gifted by the abilities he currently had were bestowed such by the system and as pleasing as that sounded it was also a death sentence.
Apparently those chosen by the tower to have such a gift only had three years to live outside of the tower. And the said way to live was to go into the tower. There was no wiggle way out of it, it was either one chose to go into the tower or one would inevitably be pulled into it.
At first Aerith Zannek struggled to understand what she really meant, it sounded complicating and tiresome to even grasp the bare concepts of what she meant but he eventually understood the basics. Every solstice the tower would select a number of people to be pulled into it, and no one had ever been reported to have come out. The tower itself was a mystery, other than the fact that it never once stopped requesting for human life and gifting them abilities.
Aerith's heart felt heavy in his chest as he wavered slightly. He looked up at her and asked, his voice shifting between fear and uncertainty, "So you're saying this tower is going to kill me or something, why give me these abilities in first place?" But then again, they were more curses than abilities. He noticed Nasha staring at him for the first time with a hint of an emotion in her cold eyes, they seemed to jump between shock and worry. "What is it? Am I missing something."
Before she could answer the little witch that had been asleep on his lap all the time climbed up on all fours and stared at him, apparently she had been awake all the while but for how long he was oblivious to that. The look she gave him was also worrisome, "How odd."
Now Aerith could not hide his confusion. "Odd? What's odd, can someone please say something?"
The little witch sat on his lap, her small frame pressing down on him. Her huge beady eyes growing wider by a slight inch, she spoke, "The young cripple of the Zannek family once had an older brother who was called by the tower, how is it that you forgot?"
It was only in that moment that Aerith actually understood what they were trying to say. "So the original owner of this body actually lost his brother to this tower monstrosity, and the karma follows me. How could I have known that, I had no idea who I would come to this world as." He thought to himself. To think that his original mission to find Savant Gerald seemed impossible to focus on at the moment.
A pair of huge beady purple eyes just inches before his face pulled his thoughts back to the present, he remembered the awkward situation he had put himself in and cleared his throat nervously. "Uh, a minor detour but when is the summer solstice?"
The next morning Aerith was dragging his feet down the wooden floorboards of the stairs, they creaked with each step he took. His body weight more than a thousand pounds now, his mind grew more heavier with the thoughts that plagued it. He walked down Nasha leading the way to the family dinning room and the little witch by his side. He had gone through a change of clothes, fine silk top and a thick fur trousers, a smooth leather belt to top it up and the insignia of his family which comprised of a white dove flying above the sun.
As he made his way to the table where his supposed father was city his mood was heavy, the reality of his situation had only dawned on him. He only had till night time before the summer solstice would arrive and his fate would be sealed.
"That damned disfigured bitch, she must have done this on purpose. Couldn't she wait and send me till after the winter solstice, how the hell am I supposed to kill Savant Gerald anyway. Or else... No it couldn't be." He shook off the thought as he sat right opposite lord Altruso, he did not feel comfortable sitting to the man, and the table was not very big so he doubted the man would mind.
The lord looked very young and energised like a bright sun shining, but his face was strained, he had dark bags under his eyes. Aerith could tell that he had been crying, after all he took had been in a hopeless situation in his past life.
In that life he lost his father but in this life a father was losing his son. "How ironic." He told himself with disgust.
The little witch sat right next to him, though it was amusing watching her fight her way to sit on the chair when she refused any help. He noticed how awkwardly she sat on it, like the concept of such comfort was something foreign to her.
His father clinked his little stainless fork on his seemingly transparent glass cup to gain their attention. He cleared his throat and spoke. "A toast to my son's full recovery, the people send their regards but unfortunately this will be the last meal I share with you."
There was a long silence in the room as Aerith failed to return the gesture, his father simply stared at him, saying nothing. "Don't look at me like that, I've got my plate full with this cursed fate thing as it is." He thought.
Altruso chuckled nervously as he took a sip from the purple coloured liquid Aerith could only guess was wine. Even the deliciously displayed food before him was not enough to lift his heavy spirit. "A last meal before I'm sent out to die does sound rich. Is there really no way out of this."
Altruso turned his attention away from his son who seemed to be lost in a world of his own, he guessed the situation would demand that from him. "You don't find the food to your liking?"
"Huh?" Aerith's eyes went to his side to see the little witch staring at the food she had on her plate saying nothing.
It was a huge filling if burnt steak, fried egg and caramel topping with diced lettuce. The steam from it made Aerith's stomach grumble and his mouth water, he was sure the chef had worked off a limb or two to make such a delicacy yet the little witch just stared at it like it was cow shit.
"You should eat, you look thin and sick." He said to her with a bit of concern.
She turned to him with a mean look in her eyes. "You're one to talk."
Aerith almost coughed, "What a sharp tongue you have." He grumbled. But he knew she was right, he had seen his reflection in the mirror, he looked as pale as snow itself and so thin you could practically see his bone growing out at some angles. He looked more like a skeleton than a human being.
The little witch spoke in a innocent voice that went against her other persona. "You really want me to eat all this? Is it edible?"
Aerith turned and stared at his father, his eyes filled with concern as he spoke. "Didn't she eat while I was recovering."
His father shrugged and failed to hide his pained look from his son. "She did not have a bite of food while you were asleep. Honestly we don't really know how she's survived this long without food."
Aerith turned his gaze to the side and stared at her thinking, "Don't tell me she's been feeding off the blood of some animal all this time."
He cleared his throat and spoke in a commanding voice. "C'mon eat up."
Instantly her face exploded with joy and excitement, an expression that felt like gold to his heart. It even made him smile and forget about his turmoil. "Really? I can eat all this?"
He gave her a nod and watched her dig into her food rather ravenously, in just a few seconds her face was a mess of oil and food crumbs. He chuckled.
His father Altruso smiled deeply as he spoke. "You two have grown close."
"Have we?" Aerith asked. He doubted that they shared anything in common, he just took pity on her right?
As she ate she spoke between mouthful of food. "Mama and papa never let me with them."
The mention of her parents drew both his and Altruso's attention. "You never talked about your parents." He asked, his tone warmer than it had ever been.
She stopped eating, for a few seconds. The air in the room grew colder, the only heat coming from the food on their plates, he looked to see her body trembling visibly, his breath caught in his throat. In her head was a huge steak half eating just suspended inches from her face, her purple hair swayed gently as if moved by an unnaturally wind. He looked closer to see droplets of silver water dropping on the steak.
He could hear her weeping softly.
"Mama and papa hurt me..."