The Lore of Shaman Milo of the Tower

| PROLOGUE

When he was younger, she would take him up the Tower. They had to go through stairs and small corridors to get to the top. He always thought they were the only ones who knew how to get there, but later realized that was just his childish imagination. The Tower was old, he had no idea how old exactly. After the climb they would sit on the deck, slightly exhausted, and soak up the views. On clear days you could see as far as the tip of the Great Owl Obelisk, but you had to be lucky.

On top of the Tower, the wind was strong and unpredictable. He used to fear it. Mostly because of the hollow sounds it made gazing through the chambers. While they sat there, the wind used to blow through her hair and even though it was wild, her face was calm. As if the wind caressed her. For hours, they would gaze into the distance while holding their hands. It was peaceful. He learned to not fear the wind but make it his companion.

Years later, when his studies were well under way, he would still frequently visit the top of the Tower. Only now with a different purpose. Beforehand he would have spent hours and hours trying different kind of knots, strings and canvas. When he was not studying, he was building new prototypes for his kite. The secret of a good kite is in its flexibility. Especially up the Tower where the wind could reach extreme speeds. While some other students mocked his passion, he believed it made him a better wizard. And besides that, he believed it was his only chance.

Holding the strings in his hands and letting it slip through his fingers, he could feel the waves of the wind. He learned how to read it and how to adjust speed and altitude. Same as with magic, it was flowing through his body. His diamond shaped kite floated in the wind and for him, it was like flying on top of the world. Every time he held his kite and saw it dance in the wind, he imagined she was there with him. They danced together, slowly, with her face calm as always. And every day he would fly higher and higher until he had no more string left. After weeks of trying, he realized, no string was long enough to reach far enough above the clouds.

That morning he bound a letter to his kite. There was no choice, he knew that when he reached a certain height, his kite would merely be a toy for the wind. With a determinate move he threw the kite in the air. He closed his eyes and let his intuition guide him. The string quickly slipped through his fingers and the kite rode the clouds. He felt the wind through the string as if it was telling him something. The wind told him it was time. After a deep breath and quick glance, he let go of the kite. The kite made a short swirl downwards, but it quickly gained traction. Far above the clouds, the diamond kite was lost from his sight. There he stood. The wind caressing him. A tear fell from his eye.

He could only hope, the letter would reach his mother.

Entered by: 0x246f…4c84 and preserved on chain (see transaction)