The Princess of the High Tower

Step by step, Diya made her way up the spiral corridor. Everlasting lamps cast their light over rough masonry walls, her footsteps echoing through the hollow, cavernous depths of the high tower. What should have been inanimate stone seemed to come alive with every step, turning into a horrific monster that had already swallowed her whole into its belly. The spiral passage seemed endless, stretching on without ever reaching a close; Diya had no idea how long she had been walking. Curiously, though she remembered never having visited such a place, every stone and brick stirred an intense sense of déjà vu. Had she dreamed of this corridor before? Or had this corridor dreamed of her? Ahead, an ajar door came into view, carrying a voice that sounded intimately familiar to Diya. She drew closer, peering through the crack of the door to see a middle-aged woman holding a picture book, reciting a cliché fairy tale to a little princess in bed: "...And so, the valiant knight defeated the fire-breathing dragon and found the beautiful princess in its lair. Together they returned to the capital amid universal celebration. The king presided over their wedding, and the knight and the princess lived happily ever after. A happy ending indeed, a happy ending indeed." Just then, a clock struck midnight in the room, and an adorable cuckoo popped out to chime the hour. The woman tucked the little princess under the covers. "Your Highness, the clock has struck twelve. It's time to sleep." The little princess blinked her lovely, pale-green eyes, which sparkled as brightly as stars. Her skin was as white as pure snow, her lips as red as blood, and she had gorgeous, jet-black hair like a dark waterfall, fanned out across her pillow. "Grandma, did the dragon already take Nina away? If it comes and takes me too, will I be able to play with Nina again?" The woman smiled and stroked the little princess's head. "The valiant knights are all outside protecting you, so the dragon can never take you away, my dear princess." The little princess looked downcast, blinking her eyes. "If the dragon won't come take me, then when will Nina come play with me?" "If there's ever a chance, Princess Nina will definitely come find Princess Lisdia." Nina. Diya remembered now—her flesh-and-blood sister. Before being locked away in the high tower, she and Nina had lived together without a care in the world, running wild in the garden, tumbling in the snow, greeted each day by countless novel games. Back then, Diya had known nothing of parting. Living with Nina was like the sun rising, cake being served at afternoon tea, or putting on a different new dress every morning—axioms that her little mind had never once questioned. Those precious years became the wellspring of courage for the rest of her life. Diya didn't really remember the exact details of the day they were parted. The weather had seemed neither good nor bad, no different from any other day. She and Nina had been playing hide-and-seek in the garden, but Nina had hidden so extraordinarily well that Diya couldn't find her anywhere. Covered in mud, Diya was soon led away by attendants to take a bath, and they told her Nina had already returned home. She had even resolved that next time, she would definitely find Nina... only for her to end up hidden away in the high tower instead. Diya continued upward and spotted another door. This time, it was not merely ajar but wide open, bright light spilling from within. She saw the little princess, dressed in lovely clothes, drag a chair over to the window, stand on tiptoe atop it, and lean over the sill to gaze out at the scenery beyond the high tower. At the next door, the little princess was playing house with her stuffed toys. Spreading open a picture book, she solemnly narrated a wildly altered story to her baby bear doll: "After the beautiful princess was captured and taken to the dragon's lair, she discovered there were lots of princesses inside—an orc princess, an elf princess, a Veela princess, an ogre princess... No, an ogre princess won't do. Let's make it a Lalafell princess instead; she could double as emergency rations! The valiant knights were all burned to cinders by the dragon's fire breath, and so all the princesses lived happily together..." At the next door, the little princess, fresh from a bath, had combed her long hair straight so that it cascaded like a waterfall and coiled at her feet. Dressed in a gorgeous blue-violet lace princess gown, she twirled delightfully before the mirror, surveyed her surroundings, and lifted her bear plushie, pretending to converse with it: "'Princess, you're so pretty—the dragons will definitely fight over who gets to carry you off!' 'Then which dragon should I choose?' 'Choose the dragon whose lair has the most princesses!'" At the next door, the little princess lay on her stomach reading a book, her calves swinging lazily as she cocked her head and nibbled the end of a pen. "No matter where they are, a sorcerer can connect to the Void Realm and adventure across the boundless ocean?" With every door passed, the little princess grew slightly older. Her routine remained unchanged: reading, dressing up, swinging on swings. Confined though she was to this tiny room, she could always find all sorts of amusement, happily chatting away an entire day holding her toys. Until Diya came upon a firmly shut door. Not a sliver of light escaped through the seam, nor could any sound be heard. Yet for reasons unknown, Diya's heart leaped violently into her throat. It felt as if a terrifying beast lurked behind the barrier, every cell in her body urging her to run away at once. Still, Diya approached and pressed her ear gently against the superalloy door. Suddenly, a shrill, heart-wrenching wail pierced through her defenses: "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I... I just didn't understand why Her Highness had to be kept under house arrest like this, why... "I really love the princess, I just didn't want... But now I completely understand Your Majesty's painstaking intentions, I understand! The princess will surely be grateful for your tutelage, inherit the glory of Yisu in the Weaving Ceremony, and achieve Armored Sanctification once more—" Diya recoiled in sheer terror until her back slammed against the passage wall. Panting heavily, trembling from head to toe, she stared blankly at the shut door. Gritting her teeth, she reached out to grab the doorknob, but before she could turn it, she distinctly heard a steady, deliberate footstep from behind the door—a step that could never have belonged to a young girl. Like a panicked little creature, Diya fled desperately up the spiral passage, as if pursued by a savage beast. She had no idea why she was so afraid, nor even what she feared, yet the dread gripped her all the same—just like hiding under the covers on stormy, thunderous nights as a child. While growing up might cure a child's fear of thunder, there were certain things one would never dare revisit, no matter how old they grew. After running for who knew how long, Diya was finally exhausted, her legs turning to jelly and her breath coming in ragged gasps. She glanced back and saw that the path behind was swallowed in pitch blackness, as if the dark had at last overtaken her. It turned out that from the moment she set foot on this spiral passage, she could only press upward to the very top. There was no way down... and no option to leave. Ahead, another ajar door appeared before Diya, bright sunlight streaming from the gap. Hesitating for a moment, she pushed the door open. The room was neat and tidy. The dolls were neatly lined up by the head of the bed instead of scattered all over the floor as before; the picture books were arranged by size on the bookshelf, no longer stuffed haphazardly in every corner. Wearing a pretty dress, the little princess sat primly at the desk reading, a bear-patterned teacup beside her filled with warm black tea, diligently taking notes. Hearing the faint creak of the door, she turned her head around and caught Diya's gaze. Her eyes were lively and lovely, laced with an impeccably measured hint of curiosity. Her demeanor was placid and her smile decorous—more like a proper princess than ever before. Yet Diya froze instantly. Her heart felt clenched in an iron grip, robbing her of breath. Unable to bear the princess's gaze, she bolted upward as if fleeing for her life. Behind every subsequent door, the little princess aged rapidly. She remained entirely alone in the room, her only companions the plush toys, the books, and her own shadow. Yet not a hint of displeasure ever showed on her face; studying all day never bred the slightest weariness, nor did she require any entertainment. Radiant sunlight endowed her with the painterly quality of an oil portrait, while overcast rainy days only brought out her brilliance. She was like a princess stepped right out of a fairy tale. Yet unlike before, the little princess behind each door now noticed Diya's presence, casting a glance her way as Diya hurried past. Rushing by those dozen or so doors, it was as if Diya were reliving the princess's monotonous childhood and youth alongside her. At last, at long last. The long spiral passage finally reached its end. Diya arrived at the peak of the high tower and reached the final door. She pushed the ajar door open and saw the grown princess sitting on the edge of the windowsill. Dressed in pure-white cotton nightclothes, her two cute, porcelain-like feet dangling and gently swaying, she gazed out at the Bronze Dragon waiting beyond the high tower. The moonlight cast a lonely shadow across the floor, as though the shadow itself had been imprisoned within that tiny room. "Thank you, dragon." With a sweet smile, the princess opened her arms to the Bronze Dragon and leaped from the high tower that had imprisoned her for over a decade. Both she and her shadow vanished entirely from the bedchamber. Having climbed the tower for so long, this was the first time Diya stepped into the room again. Hurrying to the windowsill, she saw a flock of white doves startled into flight over Yalan Lake outside. The princess was gone. Diya would remember this night forever: when she had finally used the Bronze Dragon to escape the Yisu Imperial Palace, embracing freedom with all her might, uncaring even if she were captured by the Four Pillar Cult the very next second... Yet the thought that she would soon meet Yaxiu, who had just escaped from the Blood Moon, made Diya feel a twinge of jealousy toward the princess who had just jumped. What was the most beautiful experience in life? For Diya, it was neither reigning over Gospel nor stepping into the divine realm. It was that clumsy yet sincere time right after escaping the high tower, when she clung to Yaxiu as father and daughter. She had walked on eggshells, unsure whether she could trust him, while Yaxiu had walked on eggshells, unsure how to care for her... Two strangers who should never have crossed paths in their lifetimes had somehow, through a twist of fate, become each other's warmest family. Memories blossomed like bubbles in her heart, filling her with sweetness. Diya pressed her lips together and broke into a silly smile, turning her head to look back at the room she had lived in for over ten years. There, in what should have been an empty princess's chamber, she saw a young girl sleeping peacefully in the bed.