The empyreal savior climbing the Tower-has it been foretold by the Foreseer who waits in an icy tomb's embrace?

Chapter 1:

"Under Astra's command may the Foreseer deliver His will, for that is his fate."

-Philos: Tome of the Foreseer

In the closest regions of Philos, the Foreseer has resided in the Tower of Thorns since time immemorial.

The Almighty Astra bestowed His power unto him, ordering the Foreseer to act as an emissary for the divine.

The royal family sends an envoy to the Tower of Thorns every 100 years to listen to the Foreseer's prophecies.

Yet the Foreseer has not bestowed a prophecy to the royal family in hundreds of years. Envoys sent by His Majesty never returned. Their whereabouts remain unknown to this day.

There is a rumor that the Foreseer has been perpetually frozen in an icy tomb.

To him, 100 years is but the blink of an eye. And so, a new envoy travels through snow and ice, entering his tower. It happens again and again-as it always has for the past thousands of years.

But I am not a real envoy.

I'm here to treat my illness. To do that, I must take the Creatio Protocore from the Foreseer's scepter. I have no other choice.

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Suppressing my anxiety, I walk into a massive room and bow respectfully.

MC: "I am His Majesty's envoy sent here to listen to the Foreseer's prophecy."

My voice echoes through the empty room. I look up to see a man wearing a blue robe. He sits on a throne of ice as he holds scepter.

MC: (That must be the Foreseer...)

How strange. His body is ensnared in brambles, thorns wrapping around his arms, legs, and chest. It would seem he's shackled to the throne.

I slowly approach him. I see his head lowered, his eye shut. He's encased in ice.

**********

MC: (...Is he unconscious?)

MC: (There are no signs of life...)

MC: ('Tis truly an icy tomb...)

MC: (Shall I take the Creatio Protocore?)

*Take it

Foreseer: "How impudent."

MC: "Foreseer?!"

MC: (Is my imagination playing tricks on me? Isn't he frozen? Or is he just pretending...)

MC: "He's a lot more spritely than I through. Every book I've read describes him as an old man."

Foreseer: "It seems that those tomes you've gleand through have taught you nothing about etiquette."

MC: "...!"

MC: "Y-you're not actually frozen?!"

MC: (He's not moving... Is he immobilized?)

*Touch him

Foreseer: "..."

Foreseer: "Do you know what happens when fools disrespect the Foreseer?"

*Touch him

Foreseer: "Your actions are testing my patience."

*Touch him

Foreseer: "It seems you do not know what true horror is."

MC: "And you are frozen. My expectations were a bit higher than this."

Foreseer: "Winter punishes every wrongdoing in due time."

MC: "Haven't you heard of doing what is necessary in a bad situation?"

Foreseer: "But who exactly is in a bad situation?"

*Touch his frozen body

Foreseer: "..."

MC: "The ice is more like a crystal... What is it?"

Foreseer: "You have a wild curiosity and a brazen tongue."

MC: "And your tongue is like winter's loveless embrace."

*Touch his frozen body

Foreseer: "...!"

MC: "That's your punishment for being impolite."

Foreseer: "A punishment?"

MC: "Aren't you furious? You are doing treated like a plaything."

Foreseer: "Fury? Those sorts of emotions I no longer have any use for."

MC: (I was caught up in the moment... I must finish what I started.)

*Touch the Creatio Protocore and pushed away

MC: (Where did that come from?)

MC: (He can move? That means...!)

Foreseer: "I played enough of your little games."

Foreseer: "You forget yourself, testing the limits of my benevolence."

MC: (Calm down... I need to prepare for a fight!)

MC: "I-I am His Majesty's envoy! You can't kill me!"

Foreseer: "An honest death is not a suitable punishment for every pretender."

**********

Before I can react, a cold sensation coils around my feet.

I look down and see frost climbing up my legs.

Foreseer: "Tell me, do you know the fate of thieves who sought the Creatio Protocore?"

Ice reaches my neck and is like a cold hand that tightly grips my throat.

Without sparing a glance, the Foreseer walks past me.

He disappears into the shadow...

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MC: "W-where are you going, Foreseer? Mm...!"

The crystals cover my mouth, sealing it.

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The next time I open my eyes, sunlight drifts through the window adorned with roses.

He... left me here for the night!

The Foreseer sits on his throne, reading a book. The sun's glow casts an illusion of softness on his cold demeanor.

MC: "...Foreseer? Uh, a fine morning we have today."

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Foreseer: "..."

He doesn't look at me. It seems he won't even give me the chance to explain myself.

MC: "You've been encased in ice for ages, but you still read on that throne... Shouldn't you be tired of the world's greatest chair after staying there hundreds of years?"

Foreseer: "You may try it yourself. Then inform me of your findings."

The Foreseer turns another page of his book.

MC: "No, no, I can't feel my body at the moment..."

MC: "I have yet to eat anything after entering the Tower of Thorns. Could I..."

I choose my words carefully, yet he still doesn't look up.

Foreseer: "A human can survive for seven days without food."

Foreseer: "Given your stubborn character, you should live for an extra two days."

MC: "...You're not going to leave me frozen for nine days, are you?"

I choke up and my eyes begin to tear up.

Foreseer: "Are those tears of your remorse?"

MC: "I... All right, I'm not His Majesty's envoy..."

MC: "I am here to ask for a prophecy of my future. Every prophet I consulted said I had three years left to live. I refuse to believe them..."

He finally looks up from his book.

MC: "I'm telling the truth this time..."

Foreseer: "Indeed, they are delusional."

MC: "Have you scryed my fate, Foreseer?"

Foreseer: "To disguise yourself as the King's envoy and sneak into the Tower of Thorns... You certainly have less than three years."

MC: "Foreseer, you can't-mmph!"

Ice covers my mouth again. The Foreseer resumes his reading.

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An endless silence returns to the throne room.

Nightfall greets the Tower. Taking the place of sunlight, moonlight shines into the room

Today is the first day of my punishment for entering the Tower of Thorns.

I've come to a realization after being frozen here.

It is nigh impossible to warm the heart of a demigod who lives in these rime-kissed lands.

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In the middle of the night, I am awoken by a radiant flash. Golden words float before me.

They are magics cast by the Foreseer's book

MC: (Is he... looking for something?)

The Foreseer stares at the words, brow furrowed. He is not happy with what he's seeing.

MC: "Ahem..."

I try to utter a sound. The Foreseer remains unmoving.

Foreseer: "Do you wish for your mouth to be sealed once time?"

MC: "That's a book about gathe, is it not? I also adore flowers."

His wintery gaze falls on my face.

Foreseer: "Your mouth is only capable of spouting nonsense."

MC: "I'm not lying! I used to be a gardener. Every flower I care for turns out splendid."

The Foreseer stops what he's doing. The sharpness of his gaze pierces me, trying to gouge the truth from my head.

MC: "Did I offend you?"

He looks away. With a lift of his finger, the ice on my body begins to melt.

MC: "My... punishment is over?"

Without any support, I fall to my kness.

Foreseer: "If you desire it, then I shall indulge you."

The Foreseer closes his book. The words of gold dissipate, and the room is plunged into darkness.

Once my eyes readjust to my surroundings, the Foreseer has already descended from his throne.

Foreseer: "Come, then."

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I follow him, climbing the spiralling staircase of the Tower. I'm out of breath by the time we reach the fop. Meanwhile, the Foreseer is unfazed.

In the distance, snow-covered mountains are like while sea shells.

MC: (Impossible... I was not brought here to admire the scenery.)

I suddenly notice a tiny white flower bud between the bricks.

MC: "Why is jasmine growing in a place like this?"

The Foreseer'a frigid gaze observers my every action. I carefully examine the bud.

MC: "There's something wrong with it. I doubt it will bloom any time soon."

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Foreseer: "Will you be able to care for it?"

I consider the possibilities, but the Foreseer seems to predict my next action. He moves toward me, looking into my eyes.

Foreseer: "Answer me."

MC: "Y-yes...! Of course."

MC: "It's a miracle for anything to grow here. Without a competent gardener tending to it, the bud will inevitably die."

I emphasized the phrase "tending to it" and glance at the Foreseer's expression.

He gazes at the bud and touches its small leaves.

Foreseer: "If this jasmine blooms, you may leave the Tower with your livelihood intact."

I'm not sure if I'm imagining things, but it seems the Foreseer holds the jasmine in higher regard than I.

For now, in order to by myself time and an opportunity, I have to say yes.

MC: "All right, I agree to your terms."