The sides of the Spire curved upward as Nathan walked down the center of the Axis road.  He could see the Southern Axis from here, as well as begin to discern the roads which ran east and west.  The intersection of those roads was where he had to be.  He wasn't sure how he knew this, but he was certain that it was true.
    The presence and power of the Spire seemed like a tangible thing at this distance.  Nathan walked forward as though fighting his way through a thick syrup.  Everything seemed to grow closer to him - the Scholars city had been much more benign than this.  Struggling, he reached the center, were he could see all the roads leading out to the horizon.
    And then he heard it.  The sound of the ocean, rising out of the senseless noise that the spire seemed to be transmitting.  Desperately, he struggled to hold on to consciousness.  This couldn't happen now!  He was too close!  Even as he fought, his mind succumbed.

    (Spire)

    Vision came back slowly.  The sound of the ocean still surrounded him, though now it was more subdued - like a background noise rather than an overwhelming tsunami.  His eyes flickered open, and he found himself lying on a beach.  Confusedly, he stood up and brushed himself off.  How had he arrived here?
    "It's good to see you here."  A man, standing a slight distance down the beach, greeted him.  The man walked slowly toward the befuddled prince.  "Welcome to the Spire."
    "What?  How can I be...?" Nathan trailed off, his mind still not clear enough to comprehend what was going on.
    "Appearances are deceptive, young Tallows.  You are within the Spire, just not in the physical portion of the spire."
    Nathan nodded, his head clearing somewhat.  "You seem to already know who I am... but who are you?"
    "My name is Terrance Ashford, and I'm actually from your kingdom.  Of course, that was a very, very long time ago so you likely wouldn't know me as one of your family's subjects.  Instead, you'd probably know me better as what I do now."
    "And that is...?"  Nathan already knew the answer.
    "I'm a creator.  I came to the Spire seven hundred years ago, searching for a cure for a blight which plagued my country and - though I did not know it at the time - the rest of the world as well.  I arrived, the blight was cured, and I obtained my present status."
    "You mean you weren't always a creator?  I was under the impression that they had existed since the beginning of time."
    Terrance laughed.  "We have.  But people have the wrong impression - we're not immortal.  Every day, we go out and battle the Void in order to have a space to one day recreate the universe.  And on some of those days, one of us does not return.  So there is always a need for new creators.  And there are some people within this world who have the potential to become creators."
    "Wait... does this mean that the blight was staged?  Just to get me to come?" Nathan didn't like this idea one bit.
    "No." Terrance shook his head emphatically.  "The blight was real - and anyone could have come to cure it.  It just happened to be you.  I, and a few others, had been watching you, but we didn't interfere."
    "Why the blight then?  The scholars lead me to believe that the creators had forgotten about us, and that the Spire's power had weakened.  But clearly you haven't forgotten humanity - you were watching the whole time."
    Terrance considered for a moment.  "There's something that you have to understand.  There are more than one kind of Creator.  There's you and I - those who journeyed to the spire within recent memory - that's about 7500 years.  Before us were others who had approached the creators - not by traveling to the spire, but with machines and magic of their own.  Their ways of thinking are different than ours, but understandable.
    "The predecessors of these were the Ancients themselves - those who built the Spire.  Few in number, their knowledge is more than we can comprehend.  One can communicate with them, but only very little.  And before the ancients, there are the True Creators.  Those that have existed since the beginning of the universe.  There is only one remaining that I know of, and She has not spoken in over 400 years.  We are still debating to this day exactly what the content of Her message to us was, for none of us have the understanding or knowledge that She possesses.  It was the Creators such as Her that designed the Spire, and its purposes.  I have no chance of understanding the purpose behind the waning of the Spire's power.  I have an idea though.
    "Perhaps the creators were worried about the exact opposite of what you feared.  Perhaps they feared that, instead of them forgetting about humanity, humanity might forget about them.  Humanity, after all, was what they were fighting for.  So, as a test, they made the Spire run out of energy every now and again.  If someone comes to the Spire, than people remember the Creators, and life continues.  But if nobody undertakes the pilgrimage, than the Creators have been forgotten.  And if the Creators are forgotten, then they may as well not exist.  For while the Creators have great power, that power is nothing if the people they fight for no longer believe in them."
    Nathan nodded.  "So... it's done then?  The blight?"
    "Gone.  Until such time as belief in the Creators wane again."
    Nathan stood silently, looking out over the ocean.  "And what becomes of me now?"
    "Now you are a creator.  You earn that right for completing the pilgrimage.  You may do whatever you wish, but you are forbidden from directly interfering with the lives of the people."
    More silence ensued as Nathan thought it over.  "There... is one person I'd like to see, before I begin working."
    Terrance nodded.  "Yes, that's usually the case."

(Tallows Castle)

    It was over, then.
    Donovan had died in the riots back when the Blight had been in full bloom.  King Tallows was slowly recovering, and she... well, she had been pretty much unscathed by the whole thing.  And now, seemingly overnight, the Blight was gone, and there was food again.
    Whitney walked down the empty street, trying not to think about the madness that had surrounded her for these past few weeks.  It all seemed to begin when Nathan left, on his heroic quest - for her, or for the world - it didn't seem to matter anymore.  What did matter was that she would never get to see him again.
    She sighed, looking up at the trees that lined the path.  Why had she been so angry with him!  She supposed that it seemed like he was trying to do her a favor - and she didn't need favors.  At least, she hadn't thought she needed it.  What bothered her the most, though, was that he was going to get himself killed.  That was the true reason behind her anger.
    "Pardon me, madam?" A voice spoke up, startling her.  She turned around to find a somewhat tall man wearing a blue robe facing her.  "I hope I didn't frighten you."
    "No - don't worry about it.  I was merely thinking."
    "Ah, I see.  I am searching for one Whitney Tyrwood.  Would you happen to know where she is?"
    Whitney frowned involuntarily.  She was technically Whitney Tallows now, even though she had only been married for a week at the most.  Not that she really liked that thought.  She had wanted to become Whitney Tallows, but not by Donovan.  Looking up at the man, she found herself flooded with a sudden sense of recognition.  Didn't she know him from somewhere?  His features were so familiar....  Absently, she answered "Yes... I'm her."
    "Excellent!  I happened to chance upon a certain friend of yours some time ago, and he wished for me to pass on a message to you."
    Whitney almost didn't dare to ask who the friend was.  As though reading her thoughts, the man continued.  "I am sorry that I am not at liberty to say who is behind the message, but I was assured that you would know."
    Whitney nodded.  She knew.
    "Very well then.  He asked me to tell you that he is in a place very far from here.  And though every second of every hour of every day he wishes to return to you, it is beyond his power to do so.  Still, you will always have a place in his heart, and he will think of you for as long as he exists."
    Whitney blinked.  Nathan was alive, and out there somewhere.  Her initial reaction was anger - how could he stay away?  But she banished that quickly - it was anger that drove him away in the first place.  Sorrow, then.
    "Thank you, kind sir, for delivering the message.  If you should see him again...", she said quietly, "tell him that I miss him deeply, and that I will also be thinking of him for as long as I am alive."
    The man nodded.  "I will do so.  I regret that I cannot spend more time here, but I must be going."  With that, he began walking off.
    Whitney watched him go.  There was still something about him that she felt was familiar - something in his manner or movement that reminded her of someone that she knew.  But try as she might, she simply couldn't place it.  Finally giving up, she turned and began walking back to the castle.
    The man watched her go.  Sighing, he turned away and began the slow walk to the city gates.  He took his time, committing every detail to memory.  The sun was setting as he arrived at the archway that provided the only entrance to this town.
    With one final look back, to make sure he had missed nothing, Nathan left Tallows Castle for the last time.