Land of the First – Servant of Lies
Out to the horizon they went, tower after tower rising from the carpet of green, until, in the misty distance, there was only one – a dim shape, vaster by far than its brethren.
There it was, the fabled spire, the great spire, the single tallest tower of rock in all the world. No hand had built it and its genesis was a mystery. How it had come to be was not known, and how it continued to remain was a puzzle. By all rights it should have toppled back down into the ground after all the ages of wind and heat and frost. But it had not. Like many of the towers still standing upon the plain around it, it remained as proud and as high and as mighty as it had since the days of its creation, and all any could say of it was that it simply was. Almost the height of the highest mountain, it was far narrower, and like a mighty stave its blunt tip cut through the lower clouds as if to pierce the very heavens themselves...
