Kloko

A Dark Tower. Kloko. Sleek black. A rectangle rising straight up. The Wasteland around drove away most visitors. The land was dry and black, scorched earth from centuries of war. Pockmarked hill, a slope rose to the base of the Tower. So black that the walls reflected the earth, the sky, all black grey. A Red Door embedded in the side, a foreboding entrance. The door was three steps inside the wall. Above the Red Door, slightly higher, three white block framed an invisible pyramid. In the middle, an invisible eye. Stairs inside rose steadily to another door. A White Door. The White Door opened to nothing, the sheer side of the northern wall, dropping away. Wind screaming around. Higher still, the eastern wall sloped out to support the upper landing. Here at the top, smooth stone covered the surface. Another, seemingly separate structure arose. This Sepulcher was white and black, alternating rows back and forth. Arches north and south afforded entrance to the Sepulcher. An extension led to the archway over the landing. Unseen between the arches over the extended landing was a gap. For the sacrifice. For the sacrifice. Just as the White Door promised freedom through sacrifice, so too this opening asked men their true feelings regarding mortality. Fire burned at the edges, lighting the way for those lost enough to avoid the White Door, find the secret way up, and stare at the desolate land surrounding. From the wartorn land, this lighted sepulcher lighted the way to lost souls. Affording many paths to sacrifice, only those with wings would fly away.