Not knowing if I should know the title of Fallen Paladin, I looked at Alis for clues. But she too looked clueless as she stared at the cute, unisex face of the person who claimed they were the last empress of the empire. Between the armour, the unisex face, and the buzz cut flaxen hair, it was hard to know whether they were male or female.

Yet they had called themselves an empress, so obviously they should be a she. But it was hard to fully understand just what they meant.

If they were indeed the empress, then the last empire I had heard about was that of Sillenal, a name which was almost fully lost to time. Since then there had been empires in all but name but not a single empire.

The Sillenal empire, whose fall occurred when the Isles of Dunkeltal formed. An empire which was often called by the name: The Fallen Empire.

Most of the time, it would be easy to ignore said sayings as the ramblings of a mad person. Yet it was not so easy to ignore standing up here on the top of the snowy rise overlooking the city of Rynstowe. Not long ago, a group of elite temple guards and the second in command of the temple followed orders, not from the Bishop Hallvard, but this First Watcher.

Their tracks were easily visible in the pristine snow which blanketed the landscape. In fact, I could see their group heading towards the city as we stood atop the rise.

Even Hallvard had remained quiet and not raised a word against the claims this person had been making.

A shiver ran through my body as my mind caught up on all the implications. Even the salty cold breeze that flowed from the sea was not as chilling as the implications.

Beyond that, she had given me the title of Fallen Paladin.

Not just a Fallen Paladin, but Her Fallen Paladin.

The title seemed to come with heavy expectations.

Alis squeezed my hand, and I looked at her. The flush of excitement had left her pale freckled cheeks, leaving them seem as white as the snow which surrounded us.

It was Hallvard which saved me, saved us.

'First Watcher,' Hallvard said. He gave a slight bow. 'I believe this deserves a full conversation. We have been travelling through this snow for far too long. May we please return to your abode to discuss this further?'

The First Watcher gave a regal nod in return. 'I agree. And you are right. My place is better than your Temple for a discussion such as this.'

For a moment, I swore a flash of pain washed over Hallvard’s face. But it was gone so quickly that I wasn’t really sure of it.

We quickly broke down the camp, loaded up the horses, and followed the First Watcher's stocky pony down towards the city.

This time, Alis wanted to ride in front and I was more than happy for her to do so.

It didn’t take long to get to the city, despite the thick snow on the roads. For once did we have trouble in wondering off the road. I was surprised at how well the stocky pony pushed through the snow. In fact, it seemed better suited to the task than any of our three chargers.

All the time during this short journey, Alis was quivering with excitement and making cute mumblings. It was harder than I thought just to let her be. I so desperately wanted to give her a kiss on fiery red hair.

Travel got easier when we reached the gates of the city. There were people in dirty, patched, and ill-fitting clothes stuffed full of straw using an assortment of tools to clear the cobble stone square just behind the city gate as best they could.

Since I had been reborn in this world, I had avoided large towns and cities. So this would be the first one I had been in. The large wall which surrounded the city was imposing and not something I was used to. Normally, on Earth, most cities started with a mixture of buildings and land. But, at least for this city, the wall which towered much taller than I expected formed an impressive boundary for the city.

We travelled through the enormous gates and past a group of guards warming themselves near a fire off to the edge of the gate. When they saw who was in the party, they waved us through without moving from the feeble warmth of the fire.

Beyond the gates was a large cobblestone square. Surrounding the square were a narrow fronted two and three-story buildings tightly packed together. All of which were of the timber-framed buildings I often associated with the Tudors. With the exception that while the timber was painted black, and the floors above the ground floor all jutted out slightly from the floor below, they were all painted in various bright shades of colours. Greens, reds, pinks, yellows, whites, purples, were all there. Each building was resplendent in its ornamentation.

All except a single building.

A towering tower which dominated the square, yet seemed oddly distant to them.

The tower really was not a normal building, one that was packed tightly with the rest.

Not only did it sit amongst a large plot of land, wide enough for at least eight other houses. It looked so much like a lighthouse, complete with a large glass room at the top. The fundamental difference being the tower was made of a dull grey stone which didn’t seem to have any joins in the material. Much like a towering lighthouse, it stood dominating the entire region, including that of the tall city walls which dominated over the houses built within.

A series of shiny black stones, stones which looked something like obsidian, bordered the large plot of land. Each stone was far larger than any other obsidian stone I had seen in the past, reaching up to my chest. The stones were not simple raw stones, but brilliantly smooth, yet seemingly simple cylinders standing up tall and proud from the deep snow which covered the rest of the plot of land. In a city which seemed to be devoted to clearing the snow, even going as far as piling it up alongside the city walls, the untouched snowy plot of land seemed strange. There were not even any attempts from children to grab small amounts of snow to throw snowballs. Nor were there any animal tracks maring the pristine snow.

All except the smooth black path which was completely clear of snow, unlike the cobblestones in the square which obstinately refused to allow themselves to be completely clear of snow. This smooth black path led around the back of the tower to where I guessed the door into the tower was.

We climbed off our horses. A guard hurried over from the fire the moment we had started to dismount. We entrusted the four mounts to him.

Then following the First Watcher, we headed towards the tall tower within its snowy plot of land.

I had half expected Alis to start rambling on about the tower, maybe even start telling some stories about it. But she was being unnaturally silent. In fact, her feet seemed to drag over the cobblestones, far from her usual grace in walking.

Taking her hand, I looked at her. Her pretty freckled face was looking blankly at the cobblestones. For a few steps, I waited in silence.

Unable to be in the presence of such a depressed Alis, I blurted out: ‘Are you okay, Alis?’

‘Uh,’ she said half-heartedly. She looked blankly at me and then started gazing at the cobbles again. ‘That’s the Tower of Trials, whomever enters either never leaves, or leaves different than how they entered.’

Oh, great, and that was the place where the First Watcher were striding with intense determination towards. Hallvard was a couple of steps behind him, his powerful strides and wild strength deserting him somewhat.

‘Well, we’re with those two, so we’ll be fine.’ I said, not believing in what I said at all.