The thunder of battle resonates as a man clad head to toe in platinum armour is eclipsed by a cloud of red sand, raised and then thrown from a ground shaking explosion a great distance in front of him. Surrounded by the upturned debris, he had just barely regained his footing when a shadow rushes low to the ground and to his side with intent, hidden by the thick veil of dust just barely beginning to settle. Though, the visage's attempt is in failure as the man notices in time and swings his sword in a rising arc, staining his blade black and stopping the figure dead in its tracks.

The man takes a moment to rest as the particles of sand fill the air and limits his breathing, though it is short lived. The ground is shaken once again, not by an explosion but by something heavy landing in front of him, re-stirring the dust and keeping the man's vision impaired. The force of the impact violently pushes the air out of the man's lungs before he could pull up his shield to block and not giving him a moment to spare, a large blade, almost the size of him, slices through the curtains of dust to cleave the man's head from his shoulders. It seems his fate is sealed, the air in his lungs gone, his footing lost, and his death is fastly approaching.

Neither his shield or sword is close enough to block, but, in the split second that he has to react the man tilts his body in the direction of the swing, causing the blade to deflect off his shoulder guard, but hook his helmet, ripping the latches and sending it disappearing into the rippling wall of dust. He rises quickly, not a moment to ponder the closeness of his death, his long brown hair thrashed about and his face of fair complexion stung by the turbulent wind and accompanying debris, though through the rough sands his eyes remain focused, sharp as daggers and darker than obsidian.

The same man wakes up with a jolt, the thump of his heart hammering away fills his ears. His body is tense for battle but all that lay in front of him are a ceiling and wall of stitched leather. His eyes are tired and unlike the memory a red ring sits in the middle of the iris, neither touching the sides though emanating a faint glow. Eventually he sits up and pinches the bridge of his nose, the effect of which seems to calm his heart and body, his muscles relax, his breathing regulates, and when he opens his eyes we see that the rings are reduced to mere dots, like red stars standing alone in the night sky.

His body now calm, he spends little time deliberating the memory and casually starts his day. Without much of a pause he stands up from his bed and onto a wooden floor that creaks with age. After doing something akin to a morning routine (stretching and the such), he walks over to a bucket of water on a stool that acts like a sink, and his shield, dented flat and then attached to a lone pillar, that acts like a mirror.

The room itself doesn't have any solid walls, but instead large patches of leather are stitched together and stretched across four wide pillars and the rafters. There are no candles or lamps either, instead, the leather is thin enough to allow light to come through, illuminating the room with the ambient light from outside. Said room also has little in the way of furniture and decoration, on one wall is his bed and the makeshift sink, on the opposite end is a large chest, and a closet, from where he pulls out and dresses for the day. He dons long pants, a long sleeved button shirt, and a vest, and then tops it all off with slip on leather shoes. All in all he would be rather fashionable if not for the general tatteredness of the clothes, their colours are dull and lost and small patches of sewing show the attempt to keep it all together.

After cleaning up and getting dressed he walks over to the centrepiece of the room, a desk carved out of a grey stone whose inside is a pearly white, not well mind you, either from not caring or lacking craftsmanship the table is covered in hard edges and angles, with only a thin wooden finish at the top to act as a level surface. The rest of the stone is about as tall as the man and half as wide and reaches further past the wall, its back hidden by the leather nailed to it. under the table and at either side, drawers of mismatching size, shape, and make, lay matching the poor craftsmanship of the table quite well.

Pulling the chair aside he does not sit but instead begins searching for something. He sifts through an ocean of parchments that extend onto the rest of the stone like a mighty wave hitting a cliff. Written all over the front and back of the parchments are lengthy paragraphs of cursive and tall textbook calculations that seem to use every centimetre of available space.

Finally he finds what he's looking for, a small booklet meant to be carried around with a stick of charcoal wrapped in cloth strung to the books back. he reaches for it with speed and in doing so accidentally knocks a jar over the edge of the table, though he thankfully grabs it moment before it hits the ground. After breathing a sigh he raises the jar up to eye level to check if its contents are harmed, those contents being an eye, slightly bigger than normal and with a dilated pupil submerged in a clear liquid and held in place by metal wires pressed upon the inside of an air tight jar.

Thankfully the eye is unharmed and he places it back on the table. But, as he goes back to grab the booklet the desk has changed back into the mess it was moments ago, all of the papers are disorganized and the booklet is again buried under, though this change does not seem to bother the man very much and now that he knows were the booklet is he uncovers and grabs it with little fuss. Pocketing the book he walks through a cut in the leather opposite the desk.

Pushing the leather aside he is greeted by a long hall with a high ceiling, on the left of him two more cuts in the leather lead to rooms unknown with the latter in the middle and much taller. At the end of the left wall an avalanche of boxes lay in a dip and are sectioned off with chalk. To his right there is another cut in the leather which sits close to the corner and very out of the way, the rest of the right wall of the hall is full of cupboards and drawers that reach the end and rise to also fill the top, supported by the skeleton of a partially completed wall. Finally and in the middle span three picnic tables surrounded by an unorganized mess. like a string of islands left stranded by a turbulent sea. Finally, sprinkled on some of the flat surface are those jarred eyes, staring blankly at the sea of everything and yet nothing in particular, all at once, all the time. Through these high waves of boxes and debris and the blank gazes of the eyes the man successfully navigates his way to the right wall where in between the long line of countertops the makings of a kitchen can be gleaned.

After reaching the kitchen he pushes aside enough of the items to create an island where he could walk comfortably and he dons on a patchwork leather apron that was most likely part of the wall at some point. In Front of him are various cooking tools, not the best but manageable. From the cupboards underneath he pulls forth teethy potatoes, spiralling carrots, navy blue onions, writhing parsley, and a completely normal white radish. And then, for a lack of a better term, he un-dements them promptly.

He first stabs the parsley with a knife to stop it from wiggling away and lets it bleed out on the side. While that is happening he peels the onion carefully to not pop its ink sacks and after removing the first layer it reveals itself to be a normal white onion. Placing the scarps in a special box he grabs a pair of pliers to pull out the many teeth's of the potato, and then he rolls the carrots flat with a rolling pin. finally he puts back the white radish after much consideration deciding that it wouldn't work well with his recipe.

That recipe being a stew, the exciting part, the meat, which he pulled out of a drawer and unraps. Thankfully it is not much different then what normal meat looks like, but it seems to be of a lower quality, with little fat along its sides. After removing the raping's from under it he pulls out his knife from the now very dead parsley and hovers it at around one third of the total cut of meat as he considers how much to add. He deliberates this for a ten seconds or so and decides after looking behind him at the first smaller cut in the leather out of the two, to cut the large slab of meat in half, and then into cubes.

Now with all the ingredients ready he begins cooking, he brings out a skillet and a pot and places them on a copper coil, where with a switch they begin to heat up from an energy hidden within the mechanism. As the coils turn red and heat up the air around them, the man fills the pot with water from a barrel and takes out a small amount of fat to melt on the skillet and use as grease for the meat. Placing them carefully on the heat he lets them cook for more than a minute on each side, though he doesn't get far in his cooking when through the cut in the leather he looked at moments ago a figure russells forth.

A small child stumbles into the hall, no older than seven, with pale skin, white messy hair, and red jewelled eyes that he is in the midst of rubbing from just waking up. He is wearing an off-white shirt which is a few sizes too big for him, and a pair of dark blue shorts that reach to below his knees. He doesn't say anything as he walks to the middle table of the three, pushing bits and bumping bobs along the way. The man hears the sound behind him and without turning to face the child, he greets,

"Good morning Elio! How did you sleep?" he says in a chipper tone, but Elio as he is called doesn't answer, instead he climbs onto the bench and slumps his head on the table, still very much drowsy from just waking up. The man seeing Elio on the edge of going back to sleep says,

"I see, well don't nap for too long, breakfast will be ready in a moment, but fi-'' he is cut off as he is turning to his left and sees Elio attentive with a bowl in his hand, the cupboard from where it was brought from still in the midst of closing. There was no sound of Elio rushing to the man's side, as if he had just appeared, but the man isn't bothered by this in the slightest and it seems to be a normal occurrence for him. Without missing a beat he grabs the bowl from Elio's hand and tells him,

"But first, wash up!". Elio does as commanded and navigates to his room as quickly as possible. A minute later he comes back, hairs brushed, face clean, and hands washed, ready to start the day. But Elio doesn't get far from his room when the mans asks,

"And your bed?" in an inquisitive tone. Elio stops and circles back around to his room with a rush in his step. At the same time the man had just put everything together and now has to wait a few hours for it to simmer, but he doesn't wait, instead he takes a pot lid and places and removes it from the pot in quick succession. Every time a new result would burst forth, black smoke, steam, nothing at all, and everything in between, all until he removes the pot lid to reveal a stew cooked to perfection, turning a multi hour long task to barely a minute, and a very well timed minute as well, as moments later Elio walks out of his room having done his bed,

"Finally, clear the table" the man says as he pours both their servings. Elio does so with gusto and hops on the bench to clear the table by pushing the items off either side, creating a waterfall of metal, wood, and leather. Eventually enough has been placed aside that the man can place both bowls down. He says as he sits at the table with Elio.

"Now, be careful Elio, the stew is hot-..." the man stops as he notices that right on the cusp of finishing his sentence Elio had scooped the largest cube of meat into his mouth and is currently regretting it. He spits it back out as quickly as he ate it and the man stands up to bring a cup of water for Elio and a cloth to clean up the mess. Talking along the way, "you could have at least waited for me to finish my sentence".

After cooling the food Elio takes a spoonful, and this time is actually able to enjoy it, and enjoy it he does, smiling from ear to ear he begins downright shovelling the stew into his face, thankfully limited by the size of the spoon, the man on the other hand takes a more savoury approach but seems dissatisfied about something, he comments after tasting the meat,

"Could have done with some flour..." to which Elio perks up and momentarily pauses his meal, he doesn't say anything but tilts his head to communicate interest to what the man said, and he elaborates,

"Oh i must have not told you, umm, let me remember...flour... was like a white powder you get from grinding up a plant, and it can be used to make stuff like bread, and help make a thicker stew" as he talks he spins the spoon around in the stew and it is as he implies, watery, not only that but the meat isn't staying together and fray easily when pressed with any amount of force. Though Elio doesn't seem to mind at all, and goes back to scarfing the rest of his stew after the man is finished talking, the man seeing as Elio is enjoying his meal, decides he should do the same, and he goes to grab another spoonful,

"I guess it's not that bad, anyways make sure to eat up, we have a lot to do today so your going to need a lot...of....energy" as the man was talking Elio had already finished his bowl and was waiting patiently for the man to end his sentence to then slide his bowl across the table to him for a second serving,

"I'll give you points for waiting for me to finish but we're not on a time limit" Elio nods as the man stands up and pours another serving for Elio.

After having a hearty meal Elio is standing at attention as the man says their chores for the day, he opens his little notebook were on the first page is a list of chores, and reading the first he says with a heavy heart and a deep sigh,

"*sigh* The first thing is organizing" to which Elio also copies the man's movements with a sigh of his own, their tasks, in a somewhat literal sense, surrounding them with dread. Though, seeing as both of them don't wish to organize the hall the man suggests,

"How about we do another chore instead, i mean, we still need to do it eventually, so what's wrong with moving the list around..." he says and Elio agrees, as such he reads the next chore on the list, "gardening?" he asks and Elio excitedly nods, he confirms,

"Gardening it is!!" and they both get ready by wearing gloves and leather aprons and walk through the cut in the leather on the right side of the hall, (the one with all the cupboards and the kitchen, close to the corner). They enter into a greenhouse and are greeted by a great deal of dark and gloomy greenery, graciously spread from plot to plot and growing with glee. The room itself is shorter than the hall but wider to compensate, averaging the same volume. One long continuous table hugs along the walls, only stopping at the door that they entered from and another to its right side. The centrepiece of this room is a large willow tree, its bark is a deep purple colour, its leaves tipped in red and shaped like an arrow, its roots strike deep into a plot of red sand and further beyond, raising some of the planks of the floor up and bending others.

"Alright, you know the drill! I got the herbs, you got the vegetables'' the man declares. Elio nods and they grab baskets and set off to work, the man to the table to his direct left, and Elio to the table right in front of him and past the other door on the right wall. Elio is the quickest to start his work, he jumps onto a preplaced stool and sets off collecting the plants of various plot, he first pulls out a potato, small and green, it is still not rip but otherwise it looks normal, on the surface, Elio doesn't trust the colour and looks closer at it to see small bumps from which the teeth would form. Seeing as they haven't popped out yet Elio sets the potato back into its plot and checks the next and so on.

The man on the other hand has to be much more thorough, not only do the various herbs react and move out of the way, but they also lash out in response to being cut. As such the man has to take his time, and he aims for the herbs that are fully grown, and have lost their young spirit. Other than fighting plants, he also checks the metal bearings that hold their plots down and stops them from uprooting themselves and leaving, as well as general maintenance.

The work is long but not arguise, and a good two hours pass before they are both finished collecting and planting in their respective fields. Elio places his last and third basket of vegetables on a table that sits in front of the willow tree, as the man finishes up planting seeds behind him. After stepping down from a box, placed to help him reach the tall tables, he looks up at the great big willow tree, and notices through the thick leaves a small fig like fruit hidden within. Excitedly he brings the man's attention to it,

"Really? About time", he says, and then walks up to the tree, pushing aside its sharp leaves to pull the fruit out, when he does so the tree shudders slightly in response but otherwise doesn't seem to fight back. Bringing the fruit closer he uses a small knife to make an incision, and then squeeze it, causing an eye to plop out onto his gloved hand, not only that but the eye itself is incomplete, more elliptical, with the lens still not firmly stuck in place. As the man observes closer the eye keeps sloshing around in his hand and eventually the tethers that hold the lens breaks, causing the fluid of the eye to spill out and the man to cup his hand to contain it,

"Hmmm...not ripe yet, it still needs time. Elio can you check how many pins we have" he asks, and then throws the gel-like fluid as well as the now drained eye into a compost bin. In the meantime Elio rushes past the tree to a plot of plants with a cupboard underneath. Opening them up he is greeted by more of those eyes in jars, their pupils shuddering from suddenly being exposed to light. He counts them quickly and then rushes back to the man who is checking the tree for more of the eye bearing fruits. Elio communicate his findings by raising his hands up with two fingers in one hand and three in the other, the man reads them in a questioning tone to make sure,

"Twenty three?" Elio nods, "I see, well then, there's nothing to worry about, the tree is probably going to take a month before the eyes are ripe, maybe two but even so the stock will last us way past that point. Anyways, let's put the baskets away", and they move them into the hall where they are organized in the kitchen cupboard.

A lot of time has passed when they were finally done with the gardening. The man guesses via the thin shadows cast by the light that comes through the leather that it is close, if not already high noon. With the hall still a mess and time not permitting he looks at Elio who does the same and says,

"Tomorrow" while pointing at the mess, Elio nods and the man says again, "tomorrow it is! Well then, we still got half the day ahead of us so i might as well do some work outside, and-" the man looks down to see Elio waiting excitedly for something, the man obliges,

"And of course, as a reward for a hard day of work, you get the rest of the day on the tower", after hearing those magic words Elio practically launches himself to his room to get ready, swiftly moving across the obstacles along the way, the man doing the same. He walks back to his room and to his desk where he sifts through the many papers, and begins compiling some into a folder and his booklet, along the way stumbling onto an old golden pocket watch. The man is surprised and concerned to find the watch sitting on the table and as swift as wind he grabs it and places it into the inner right pocket of his vest commenting,

"That was close, I almost forgot you", then finishes up compiling the papers. He leaves his room and walks to the other side of the hall where another cut in the leather leads outside. Next to it he pulls from a coat rack a belt with many compartments, latches, and lengths of rope, similar to climbing equipment. At the same time the man is wearing the belt, Elio runs back into the hall, now wearing a thick oversized dark blue gambeson (a jacket knights would wear under their armour). The collar is big enough that even folded up it still covers Elio's mouth, the jacket is low enough to cover Elio's knees, and the sleeves are folded many times which create the illusion of wrist bracers.

Still, Elio moves in the jacket with surprising ease and little hinderinse, as if the jacket isn't there to begin with, and he runs to the large cut in the leather that sits a good distance away from his door and on the same wall. He attaches the leather to either side of some exposed pillars to reveal a circular room, and the biggest one yet.

From just after the door and leading onwards a pair of tracks meet an elevator contraption square in the middle of the tower, directly around the elevator isn't much but hugging the walls, or more accurately propping them up, is a truly monstrous amount of scaffolding. Up and down, without much rime or reason, and slapped on as an afterthought. The stupendous amount of planks extend up the tower as if a drunk spider was commanded to make a web by an equally tipsy engineer. Not only that but somehow they found enough space and structural stability to create a staircase that spirals up the side of the tower. Thankfully, it seems that the stability of the tower is saved by an enormous pillar of ashen black stone that, similar to the white stone in the man's room, stands half in the tower, and the other half outside. To it the scaffolding connects, and acts like the back bone of the entire structure.

After taking in the inside of the tower Elio rushes off to the elevator that sits on the floor, though he doesn't climb on just yet, instead he places a foot on a metal seesaw mechanism that is in the elevator, and his hands on a handrail above it which is separated from the rest, after adjusting his footing he places his entire weight on the seesaw pushing a sleigh; of which Elio is holding the rail of; up and then down onto the track, removing an odd holding contraption with it.

He brings the sleigh all the way back along the track were on the inside of the tower and next to the door a large stockpiles of quivers filled to the brim with sharpened metal rods, as black as the night, and as tall as Elio, stack wide and low like logs. As you can imagine lifting one of these quivers would be rather tuff on Elio but thankfully the man was already on his way to help, and he grabs the quiver and places it on the sleigh where it is held with the bolts aimed forward and tilted up. Elio thanks the man and then pushes the sleigh back to the elevator were it ramps off of the metal sheet seesaw, (as it hasn't flipped back) and into the elevator platform with a *click*.

Now with a quiver loaded into the elevator Elio climbs one the platform and reaches for a lever to send himself up, when he is cut of by the man beckoning to him,

"Wait a second!!" he runs to the elevator, "you forgot your gloves again" the man hands Elio the gloves in question, and as he puts them on he begins rattling off warnings to Elio,

"Now then, keep your hands in the elevator at all times, make sure to check around you in a consistent manner, don't leave the tower open if your coming down, even for a refill-" Elio puts his hands up to stop the man from talking further and rattling his ear off as he had heard these warnings dozens of times before. The man complies,

"Well if you get it I'll stop" Elio nods and then pulls the lever to send the elevator up. Ropes tighten, gears move, and the sound of machinery bounces along the many scaffoldings until it is but a muffled hum, Elio is slowly taken higher and higher on the caged elevator, along the the way the man says,

"STAY SAFE, AND HAVE FUN" to which Elio pops his hands out of a clearing in the scaffolding to give a thumbs up and then quickly retract it. The man stays standing at the base of the elevator shaft, watching Elio rise ever higher, and waiting for a counterweight to come down and stop a foot off the ground, signifying that Elio made it all the way up safely, only then does he leave the tower. In the hall he finishes gearing up. he replaces the slip on leather shoes with thick boots that have jagged metal soles, an old velvet coat, or so it seems, as it doesn't look like it has been cleaned in the last decade, finally he check the belts compartment and places the booklet and file in one that sits in the back, and he takes a step into the outside.