In the blue sands of the desert a man walked alone. He held his wife's amulet that glowed softly in his palm.
He had known that he would be alone in his journey, approaching the tower that was hidden behind the mountains. The air was thin, cutting into his lungs. His lips cracked from the lack of moisture. Feet torn to shreds, and numb from the constant abuse over the sharp rocks. But through sheer will alone, he made it across the range.
The tower was seemed to reach the heavens, as close as it can be to the Gods. Despite it being thousands of years old, the marble was still brilliant, seemingly untouched from the winds of time. But the man did not stay to bask in its brilliance for long, before heading to its entrance.
The door was made from silver, decorated with embossed geometrical designs. He rapped his fist against the door, his knocks echoing up in the tower. The man waited and knocked again, but no one came. The sun had begun to set, and the man desperately began to bang continuously until the skin on his knuckles became bloodied. His heart was racing as he could hear the yelps of the creatures of the night approaching. The man cried out, his fingers digging into the unfeeling metal.
But the man's mission had been doomed from the start. No one would ever answer his pleas.