Andrew Rowe - Sufficiently Advanced Magic

Hrm. If it wasn’t acid, what was I dealing with? Just a time limit, maybe?

The backpack was already out, so I opened the book.

When I flipped to the next page, I saw something new: fresh writing. The text appeared as I watched.

This is the Room of False Choices.

That was it. No further explanation, no detail. In a moment of frustration, I removed the quill from my bag and wrote a reply on the same page. There was plenty of blank space; each room started on a new one.

Dear Mysterious Book Entity,

I would like to inquire about more details pertaining to the Room of False Choices. Would you, perhaps, deign to provide me with insight on how best to proceed?

Yours in inquiry,

Corin of the House Cadence

I chuckled, dispelling some the lingering fear from my own mind. Absurdity had always been an excellent shield against the threat of negative emotions. I did not expect a reply.

Dear Corin,

(May I call you Corin?)

There’s no need to be sarcastic.

But it’s been so long since anyone has written me (or in me?), I suppose I can offer you a glimmer of such insight.

Provided you’re not blind, you can currently see three doors from the entry of your room. Those are options for exiting your chamber, but they are not the best ones.

As much as I am enjoying our correspondence, I must encourage you to hurry. Even as you read, your true choices begin to fade.

Yours in useful insight,

Mysterious Book Entity

I stared blankly at the now-filled text.

What…?

The reply had filled the remainder of that page and carried on to the next. I wasn’t sure what that would mean for help in the next room, but for the moment, I had bigger concerns. I stowed the book and the quill. I was, apparently, wasting time.

So, the puzzle was figuring out the real exit. Or exits.

My mind immediately went to the grate within the pool. That seemed accessible, if I felt like diving in. Which, at present, I didn’t.

I checked the walls on my side next. Were there any hidden panels, signs of secret doors?

I didn’t find anything immediately, but I did get a new idea. I tossed my backpack right back down, grabbing the book and quill and transcribing the text.

Dear Mysterious Book Entity,

I’m looking for someone named Tristan Cadence. He entered the tower five years ago and he may or may not currently be alive. I would be immensely grateful if you could tell me anything about what happened to him.

Thank you,

Corin

I stared at the book with growing nervousness for several moments before I saw the reply.

Dear Corin,

You shouldn’t be asking me about that right now.

You should be more concerned about surviving this room.

Yours,

Mysterious Book Entity

I sighed, putting my things away. More time lost.

I eyed the switches on the other side. What would they do?

One of them had the switch side facing toward me, the other was facing the opposite direction. Interesting.

I heard some kind of clicking noise somewhere, and then a loud scraping that traveled across the entire right wall of the room.

Resh. I really hope that isn’t the god beast looking for me.

Okay. Calm. Let’s hit those switches.

I had enough rope to reach the other side of the chasm, but I didn’t trust myself to lasso one of the switches in a timely fashion. I chose to lift the dueling cane and aim it carefully at the switch on the right, pressing my thumb against the button.

The blast ripped forward, striking true — and snapping the top half of the switch right off. Apparently, those things weren’t very sturdy.

Three options left in my mind: a lasso; a swim; and the bars on the sides.

I went with the lasso. I didn’t trust that water in the slightest.

My first attempt to catch one of the switches missed. The second time, the rope landed in the water, soaking through. That added weight made it harder to throw, but easier to control — I managed to encircle the switch that was facing away from me. With a yank, I pulled it toward me. The water began to drain from the pool.

Which was great in one respect: the water terrified me. Less great was that a comfortable four foot drop into water was now swiftly becoming a twenty-four foot fall into a pair of broken legs.

I had a decision to make, and quickly. I dropped the rope and rushed for the nearest wall, where the hand-holds were, and grabbed on tight. Pulling hard, I determined that the holds seemed sturdy. Then I made my way across the chasm, hand over hand.

The entire room rumbled as I moved, nearly sending me tumbling into the diminishing water below. I wanted to fall sooner rather than later if I was going to; there was enough water left to serve as a cushion, but it wasn’t going to last much longer.

Of course, I didn’t want to fall at all. Even if that liquid was really water and not acid, I didn’t know what other dangers lay within. Maybe a monster would come out of that grate as soon as the water drained, or acid would rise from the floor.

One hand in front of the other. Twice, I lost the grip with one of my hands and had to haul myself back into position… but I made it across.

I walked over to the other switch, the one I had broken, and pushed the remaining half of the handle.

Back where I had made my entrance, three doors appeared with gems of black, silver, and bronze coloring.

I didn’t have the faintest idea what those meant.

My arms ached. I felt something on my head — dust or tiny rocks, crumbling from the ceiling above me. That rumbling wasn’t illusory; the room was beginning to collapse.

I turned back to the chasm. The water was nearly gone now. I had hoped one of the switches would provide a bridge, but that was clearly too much to ask for.

Did I trust my arms to carry me back across the chasm to the new doors? The book had hinted that the exits nearest me were sub-optimal solutions, but it didn’t imply they’d be deadly. I might be better off taking the “easy” route out and testing myself in the next room.

I found myself making my way over to the pit’s edge, but not to cross it. Instead, I gripped the ladder, slowly climbing down.

I needed to know what was behind that grate.

The ladder was steel, slippery from contact with the water, but embedded in the wall similar to the handrails. It was sturdy and easy to climb.

I tested a foot against the ground before dropping off the ladder entirely. The floor itself seemed solid, and I didn’t see any signs of other traps.

I made my way to the grate. It was taller than I was and blocked by iron bars. I saw a keyhole on the right side of the gate, but it wasn’t marked with any specific color, nor was there a gem like on the doors above. Beyond the bars, I could see only darkness.

I stuck the back of the quill through the bars first. It came back perfectly intact. The blackness wasn’t some kind of annihilating field, at least.

I slowly tried a finger next. There was no pain, no wetness. Nothing uncomfortable.

The floor rumbled.

This may not be a gem-studded door, but I think it qualifies as a non-standard exit.

I readied the dueling cane, stepped back, and blasted the bars off the gate. I had chosen my exit.

I stepped into the dark.

I was immensely relieved when I found myself standing in an illuminated tunnel. The walls hugged close around me. The tunnel was roughly cylindrical, and barely wider than I was.