Marl stumbled through the foggy haze, his head pounding like a drum in a madman's orchestra. The tower's stone walls loomed above him, their familiar contours now twisted and sinister. As he gazed around, his eyes slowly focused, and a deep, brooding intensity settled upon his face.
The wind whispered secrets in his ear, and Marl felt an inexplicable pull towards the tower's edge. He peered over the parapet, the ground far below a distant, unforgiving stone slab. The height made his stomach drop, but he felt an odd sense of fascination, as if some dark force drew him closer.
And then, without warning, a hand shoved him from behind. Marl's arms flailed wildly as he tumbled over the edge, the world rushing up to meet him in a blur of stone and shadow. Panic set in, his mind racing with thoughts of death and destruction. "Who pushed me?" he wondered, his heart pounding with fear.
As he fell, Marl's eyes snapped open, and he was surprised to find himself plummeting towards the ground. He wondered if it was all just a dream, if he'd wake up in his bed, safe and sound. But as he looked down, he saw the pavement rushing up to meet him, and his mind reeled with the reality of his situation.
For a moment, Marl felt himself falling slowly, as if time had slowed down to give him a chance to process his fate. But as soon as he thought that, his body seemed to respond to the thought, and he began to fall faster. The wind rushed past his face, whipping his hair back and forth, and Marl's stomach dropped with the realization that he was going to crash.
But instead of the expected impact, Marl felt himself slowing down, as if some unseen force had grasped him in mid-air. He landed with a gentle thud on the stone pavement, his face inches from the ground.
Marl stood up, dazed but unharmed. The bystanders stared at him in awe, their faces pale and frightened. "Whoa!" someone in the crowd exclaimed. "It happens every year, right after the Solstice. Some new enlightened seeker tests out their abilities with extreme stunts."
Marl's mind reeled as he looked around at the crowd. "Every year?" he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. He thought back to his conversation with the High Priestess, and her words echoed in his mind. "You're not enlightened," she had said. But... he was standing here, alive and unharmed after a fall that should have killed him.
The realization dawned on him slowly. He was enlightened. And it seemed that he wasn't the only one who knew it.
As Marl walked away from the tower, a small child pointed at him and giggled. "Mommy, Mommy! Look at the man! He's a ghost!" Marl looked down and asked the child, "Why do you think I'm a ghost? Since last time I checked, I had skin and bones and was still breathing."
The child thought for a moment before responding, "Because you don't have a shadow!" Marl was taken aback by the child's observation, and he felt a surge of surprise at the mother's reaction. She had been so respectful, so reverent. Marl wasn't used to people treating him with such deference.
Marl chuckled to himself, unsure of what he could say. He turned to look down at his feet, and his eyes widened in surprise. What was supposed to be there... wasn't. His shadow was gone.
The child's mother quickly intervened, dragging her son away. "I'm so sorry, sir. It's not nice to call people names, especially the enlightened." She looked at Marl with a mixture of fear and reverence. "I apologize, sir."
The child protested, "But Mom, he's a ghost because he doesn't have a shadow!" The mother chuckled and said, "That's nice, dear. You're just rambling." She led her son away, leaving Marl standing alone.
He blinked twice, double-checking. Nope, still gone. He looked around, taking in the buildings and the people passing by. Everyone else had a shadow, but not him. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. He was enlightened, and he didn't have a shadow.