Something is ending. Tedd Deireadh, the Hour of the End, is approaching... It is felt in the air and in the water, in the rustling of grass and in the hum of the winds, in the blood of sunsets and in the dazzling flashes of the northern lights on the jagged points of the top of the majestic black tower. The place to which the ash-haired girl on a black mare has a difficult journey - through an inn drenched in the blood of her friends... across the sand of the arena, drenched in the blood of fighters... across the ice of Lake Tarn Myra, drenched in the blood of her enemies. After all, the point is not that you suffer. It's how you tolerate them. And in the name of what? Only one who has comprehended this truth will be able to enter Tor Zireael. Swallow Tower.