1. A Curse and the Azure Tower

In the wilderness stood a tower of the faintest azure blue.

The surrounding land was sparse, adorned with only a few patches of grass. In the midst of that wasteland, a young man on horseback looked up at the lofty spire.

“So this is the tower where a witch lives.” There was not one shred of excitement in his tone as he gazed at the colossal structure.

The young man had hair so dark it was nearly black, and he had deep-blue eyes—the same color as the sky after sunset.

The quality of his clothing and his graceful appearance spoke to an innate elegance. That was not to suggest he was frail, as his muscled body also exuded an aura of constant readiness. One who looked upon him would liken him to a commander on the front lines of a battlefield, despite his young age.

He was about to dismount and stride up to the tower when a voice whined from behind him, giving him pause.

“Your Highness, we really shouldn’t…”

“Shut up, Lazar. What would I be if I faltered here?” Shaking his head in exasperation, he turned back around. The young man who had just been called Your Highness was Oscar, the crown prince of the kingdom of Farsas, the lands that extended east of the tower.

Oscar’s retort to the attendant, a childhood friend he had brought with him as his only companion, brimmed with confidence. “After all, we managed to break out of the castle. Wouldn’t it be pointless if we went back now? It’s just some light sightseeing.”

“No one goes to a witch’s house for sightseeing!” Lazar protested.

A witch.

There were only five throughout the entire mainland. Perhaps owing to their tremendous power, they were treated as separate from everyone else.

The Witch of the Forbidden Forest.

The Witch of the Water.

The Witch Who Cannot Be Summoned.

The Witch of Silence.

The Witch of the Azure Moon.

These were the common names of the five. The witches appeared only when they themselves desired it, using their almighty magic to summon disasters and then promptly vanish. Over the last several hundred years, they had come to symbolize fear and calamity.

Of this quintet, the one who possessed the most powerful magic was the Witch of the Azure Moon. She had erected a suitably azure tower in the wilds beyond any country’s borders and lived at the very top of it. It was said that she would grant the wish of any who could climb to the pinnacle of her great spire, but as word spread that such challengers never return from the tower, fewer and fewer people dared to even approach it.

Oscar and Lazar had come to this dangerous tower with a specific purpose in mind.

“I told you, it’s just as dangerous as I thought. What will you do if the witch magnifies your curse?” asked Lazar.

“I’ll deal with that if it comes. I don’t have any other clues, do I?”

“There are still other ways… I’m sure if we look, we’ll find something…”

Oscar listened to Lazar’s pleading as he dismounted his horse. He took up the longsword in his saddle and returned it to the sword belt at his waist.

“You mentioned other ways, but none have been found in fifteen years. First, I’ll meet this Witch of the Azure Moon and ask her how to break the curse. If this is a dead end, I’ll go back to the Witch of Silence who cursed me in the first place and get her to undo it. Flawless, right?”

“It’s not flawless at all,” Lazar whimpered, sounding close to tears as he finally dismounted from his own steed. His skinny, gangly physique was wholly unsuited for battle. He wasn’t carrying any weapons, but that was because the two had left in such a hurry. Lazar jogged after his lord, much like he must have done when they’d escaped the castle.

“Your Highness, I understand your feelings… But the reason no one’s contacted the witches in fifteen years is because it’s too dangerous! Any search for the Witch of Silence has been fruitless, and no one who’s climbed the tower of the Witch of the Azure Moon has ever returned!”

“True. It does look a bit tall for taking the stairs,” Oscar said.

The tower’s walls were made of a blue-tinted, crystalline material that made the structure appear to blend into the sky. Oscar craned his neck to look all the way up toward the hazy, indistinct rooftop.

“Well, I’m sure I’ll figure something out,” he said.

“No, you won’t! It’s supposed to be full of traps! If something was to happen to you, how could I possibly return to the castle? What would I say?”

“Just act like you’re really, really sad.” Oscar shrugged and ambled off.

“Wait. I’m coming, too!” Lazar watched Oscar go and rushed to hitch both their horses to a tree before hurrying after him.

It had all begun fifteen years ago. One night, a witch’s proclamation suddenly echoed throughout the castle.

“Never again shall you have children. Neither shall that son of yours. The blood of your family will tear a hole in a woman’s stomach. The Farsas royal family dies with you!”

Oscar didn’t quite remember the exact words the witch had said as she cursed them. What he did remember was the shadowy silhouette of the witch with the moon at her back. And how his father’s arms had trembled as he held Oscar. At only the age of five, Oscar hadn’t understood how serious such a pronouncement was. He had simply recognized that something bad must have happened because of how the color had drained from his father’s face.

Oscar was the king’s only child. This curse that threatened the lineage of the royal family was a well-guarded secret. Few knew of it, most of those being exceptional mages and scholars who’d been searching for years to find a way to break it.

In contrast to such a dark thing to bear, Oscar himself had been a bright, brave boy who’d mastered both swordsmanship and scholarship. Because of his brilliance and good looks, many had high expectations for his future, though they knew nothing of the curse. They would murmur “In time, he’ll be a king remembered throughout history.” If the curse wasn’t lifted, however, all he’d leave behind would be an ill-fated name.

At the age of ten, Oscar came to understand what the curse meant and began searching for a way to break it. Unfortunately, no matter how many books he’d consulted or leads he’d chased down after practicing his swordplay, Oscar hadn’t found even a shred of a clue to show for it.

Fifteen years had passed since that night.

This man who would become king someday had traveled westward, beyond the borders of his country, and now stood at the foot of the azure tower where a witch lived.

“Well, let’s go,” Oscar said.

“You can’t just open the door so callously! Be more cautious!”

With Lazar shrieking in his ear, Oscar pushed open the double doors and stepped inside.

He looked around and found himself in a round, spacious hall. The center was an open atrium, and a passage on the right-hand side led up. It was not a staircase but a gently sloping path that hugged the wall and extended upward in a corkscrew shape.

Oscar craned his neck; the whole tower appeared deserted. “Looks just like the records said, I guess. At least the entrance does.”

“Does this satisfy your curiosity?” Lazar asked shrilly.

“Let’s keep going. C’mon, up we go.”

According to the records left in the castle, the tower was fraught with several checkpoints. The witch would grant the wishes of those who made it past these challenges and reached the highest floor. Oscar’s goal was to do just that.

Checking to make sure his beloved sword was still at his waist, Oscar set off with Lazar in tow.

There was no handrail along the passage, and Oscar could see that it led up to a round landing. Some sort of huge stone slab had been placed there, and Oscar headed for it as he climbed up the path. Lazar was trailing behind timidly.

“It’s dangerous, so you wait there. I’ll be back by sundown,” Oscar called.

“N-no… I couldn’t do that…,” answered Lazar.

For quite some time, Lazar had been following after Oscar, starting with when Oscar had first escaped from the palace, and Lazar had ended up in some nasty situations because of it. Each time, he’d rained complaints down on Oscar’s head, but it still didn’t look like he planned on abandoning his reckless lord.

Oscar regarded Lazar and smiled faintly before turning to continue upward.

As the two approached the landing, they saw it was about the size of a small room. A list of numbers was carved into the stone slab in the middle. Oscar started to think of solutions as he strode up to it, and Lazar piped up in a quivering voice, “Your Highness…th-that’s—”

“I’m thinking now. There’s most likely some sort of commonality,” Oscar said, cutting him off.

“Not that! The snakes! There are so many of them!”

“I see them.”

The floor of the landing was overflowing with writhing snakes. There was no wall separating the landing from downstairs; what kept the snakes from escaping the landing was likely some kind of magical barrier.

Oscar remained undaunted. He crouched down and grabbed the head of one of the snakes that was sticking out into the passage.

“They’re not venomous, so it’s fine. They’re just here to get in our way.” He tossed it over his shoulder, earning a scream from Lazar. Oscar paid it no mind and stepped into the midst of the serpents. When he approached the stone slab, he put his hand on his chin and pondered.

The rock had been placed to obstruct the passage upward, so Oscar couldn’t proceed. He mulled this over, ignoring the snakes winding around his feet, while Lazar let out little shrieks as he gingerly picked his way to his lord. This was most likely the first checkpoint. Oscar nodded, his eyes on the stone slab.

“I got it. This is a mathematical theory studied about a hundred years ago in a small country to the east. It was famous among mathematicians for being an unsolvable problem.”

“Unsolvable?!”

“At the time, yeah, but someone figured it out around ten years ago. The witch in this tower really knows her stuff.”

Oscar reached out and touched the slab. The spot where his fingers connected lit up with a faint white light. Following that trajectory, he input the answer, and then…

The gigantic stone slab crumbled into sand. At the same time, the snakes writhing at Oscar’s feet vanished as though they’d been entirely illusory.

Astonished, Oscar gaped around the landing, which was now distinguished only by a mountain of sand.

“I see. So that’s how things work.”

“…Shouldn’t we go home?” Lazar pleaded.

“No way. It just got interesting.”

Lazar chased after his spirited lord as he continued the climb up the path. The top of the tower was still so very far away.

***