*sm_save 0 | false | Start of Flashback
*TEMP calledout 0
*TEMP waitout 0
[b]About Six Years Ago...[/b]

The grey bricks of the wizard's tower are covered in vines. Moss clings in clumps to the tower where the vines don't reach and the pointed roof is thatched with straw from a thousand forgotten bird's nests. The cant of the tower is slight, but in another hundred years or so the whole struture may very well topple.

*IF (gender="male")
	*set bet "balls"
*IF (gender="female")
	*set bet "boobs"
*IF (gender="nonbinary")
	*set bet "butt"

Your best friend Caylor suddenly puts you in a headlock and gives you a nuggie. You struggle to get away and are finally able to elbow your way out, but you squeal when you feel a sharp pain in your head.

Caylor stands there, looking shocked and sheepish, as you rub your head and mutter. He gives you a cheesy smile and holds up his hand. Entwined in his fingers is a messy clump of your...

*FAKE_CHOICE
	#blond hair.
		*SET haircolor "blond"
	#brown hair.
		*SET haircolor "brown"
	#red hair.
		*SET haircolor "red"
	#black hair.
		*SET haircolor "black"

"Oops." Caylor wiggles his fingers and the strands of your hair swirl and drift off in the breeze. "Ahh... hey! Bet your ${bet} I can get to that window in a half-minute," he says, pointing to a vine-clogged porthole that must be fifty feet from the ground. "If I don't, you can have my allowance for the week!"

Caylor raises his eyebrows. A crooked smile plays on his full lips. His eyes always seem to have a mischievious glimmer in them even though they are very dark.

*FAKE_CHOICE
	#Quite the opposite of my bright blue eyes.
		*SET eyecolor "blue"
	#Much different than my sea green eyes.
		*SET eyecolor "green"
	#Unlike my own icy grey eyes.
		*SET eyecolor "grey"
	#Darker even than my chocolate brown eyes.
		*SET eyecolor "brown"
	#Just like my own inky black eyes.
		*SET eyecolor "black"

Caylor stamps his foot. He says, "Hey, moonbrain! Is it a bet or what?"

He's more than capable of making the climb. Performing athletic feats has always seemed to come easy to him. If it were a binding bet, you know you'd be a fool to take it.

*FAKE_CHOICE
	#"Hmm, let me think for a— [i]Deal![/i] Time starts now!"
		After a moment of hesitation, Caylor pivots and sprints to the tower, calling out "No fair!" when he stumbles and scurries back to his feet.

	#"No way! That's a sucker's bet and you know it."
		Caylor smirks. "I'm gonna do it anyway!" He turns and sprints to the tower.

	#"Um... what do you plan on doing with my ${bet} if you win, weirdo?"
		Caylor's eyes go wide and a crimson blush reddens his cheeks. He opens his mouth to reply but suddenly pivots and sprints to the tower.

It was odd that the two of you would end up us as friends, since he is the son of a wealthy merchant and you are the child of a lowly tinsmith, but both of you were laughing and joking just moments after you met.

After becoming friends, you asked Caylor why he'd approached you at the town market to talk to you. He said it was because he could tell you were different. You told him that you...

*CHOICE
	#are just an average person.
		*set distinction "none"
		*GOTO donepicked
	#grew up taller than usual.
		*set distinction "taller"
		*GOTO donepicked
	#didn't reach a typical height.
		*set distinction "shorter"
		*GOTO donepicked
	#stayed slimmer than the majority.
		*set distinction "slimmer"
		*GOTO donepicked
	#have noticeably more curves than most.
		*set distinction "more curvy"
		*GOTO donepicked
	#fattened up quite a bit in the last year.
		*set distinction "fatter"
		*GOTO donepicked
	#got much more muscular since starting puberty.
		*set distinction "more muscular"
		*GOTO donepicked

*LABEL donepicked

*IF not(distinction="none") and (not(distinction="more curvy") and not(distinction="more muscular"))
	He laughed and shook his head.

	"That's not it at all," he said. "I mean, sure, you're ${distinction} than most kids our age but that's not what I meant."

*IF (distinction="more curvy")
	"Uh, I guess I've noticed that... but that's not what I meant."

*IF (distinction="more muscular")
	"Yeah but I can still out-wrestle you any day!" He laughs. "That's not what I meant, though."

*IF (distinction="none")
	"That's not what I meant at all," he said, "and you're not average, anyway."

Caylor held his finger up then slowly reached out and tapped it against your chest.

"You're different [i]here[/i]." He smiled. "I can tell."

At that moment, you...

*FAKE_CHOICE
	#...were glad to have made a good friend like Caylor.
		*SET dig_caylor %+10
	#...believed maybe you and Caylor could be more than just friends.
		*SET dig_caylor %+20
	#...still didn't care for Caylor but thought he could be a decent distraction.
		*SET dig_caylor %-20

And now here you are, having followed him out to the old — possibly haunted — wizard's tower. This is a place you don't think you'd ever have gone on your own. But then, Caylor has always wanted adventure and he has said before, many times, that you're obligated to accompany him as you are his best friend.

Before much longer, he's climbed all the way to the porthole. His legs kick in the air as he pulls himself into the darkness. After leaning out of the tower for a shout of victory, Caylor disappears inside.

Long minutes pass. The only sounds are the birds chirping and the wind rustling the tall grass around you.

It took you almost two hours walking from the town to get the tower. Now the midday sun beats down on you. You feel sweat beading on your forehead and your shirt is sticky on your back. You look down at your arm.

*FAKE_CHOICE
	#With your fair skin, you're likely to be quite sunburned already.
		*SET skincolor "fair"
	#Your olive skin provides some protection from the blazing sun.
		*SET skincolor "olive"
	#The tan you've developed from the sun over the years has become your natural state.
		*SET skincolor "tanned"
	#Thanks to my deep bronze skin you never really worry about sunburn.
		*SET skincolor "bronze"
	#You're as ebony-dark as Caylor and you don't really worry about sunburn.
		*SET skincolor "ebony"

You peer up to the tower, squinting your eyes against the glare of the sun. You're not really worried about him — the tower's been abandoned for decades, they say — but it's odd that Caylor hasn't come out to gloat by now.

*GOTO whatdo

*LABEL whatdo
*FAKE_CHOICE
	#Call out to Caylor
		*GOTO callout
	#Follow Caylor into the tower
		*GOTO followhim
	#Wait in silence
		*GOTO waitwait

*LABEL callout
You shout Caylor's name but there is no answer.
*set calledout +1
*IF (calledout=3)
	*GOTO finalanswer
*GOTO whatdo

*LABEL waitwait
You stand in silence, waiting for Caylor to come back out of the tower.
*GOTO whatdo

*LABEL finalanswer
An dark old man peers out of the tower from another one of its many portholes. He looks at you and then quickly ducks back inside.
*GOTO whatdo

*LABEL followhim

There doesn't seem to be a choice. You'll have to climb the tower too.

You reach back and quickly tie your long ${haircolor} hair into a sloppy ponytail. You let it grow out over the winter but you can't really say why. Sometimes people do things without a reason. Now that you think about it, you...

*FAKE_CHOICE
	#...like it this long so you're going to keep it this way.
		*SET hairlength "long"
	#...think you'll cut it back to around shoulder-length.
		*SET hairlength "medium"
	#...are ready to get it shortened to around your ears again.
		*SET hairlength "short"
	#...want to shear it down to your usual military-like burr cut.
		*SET hairlength "burr"

The climb up the side of the tower takes you much longer than it did Caylor, but in the end you're able to reach the porthole and hoist yourself through. The darkness surrounds you like a blanket and it even seems to muffle all the sound in the world. You can't hear the birds or the wind any longer.

Your eyes slowly adjust and you're able to make out a steep spiral staircase coiling up into the darkness above. There's nothing else here but a stale smell. Caylor must have gone up those stairs.

Step after step, long minutes pass, and your legs are already trembling. Finally you reach a landing. Light pours in from a porthole on the far wall and, basking in that ray of light, a pair of sandals lie on the stone floor. You are drawn to them because they are...

*FAKE_CHOICE
	#simple: a well-padded plain leather sole with a soft strap on the toes.
		*set sandals "plain"
	#stylish: a tall heel, glittering clasps, and gilded bands criss-crossing the calves.
		*set sandals "pretty"
	#strange: chained jewelry drapes the feet which are elevated on only a small cushion of air.
		*set sandals "peculiar"
	#sturdy: boiled leather for toe and heel protection with thick braces supporting the ankles.
		*set sandals "protective"

You kick off your old shoes and slip your feet into the ${sandals} sandals. In that very moment, all your clothing crumbles and floats away in the breeze like so much dust.

Startled and mortified at being suddenly — and somewhat publicly — naked, you search the room for anything to cover yourself. Gazing out the window a moment, you spy Caylor sprinting away from the tower towards the town. He doesn't look back once.

"Caylor!" you shout. "Caylor!"

"Bah!" a voice says behind you.

You spin around to face an old, bald man scowling at you from the shadows. He looks down to the sandals at your feet and groans.

He says...

*FINISH