The Tower
Where salt-wind prayers echo and the faith of Eyllwe holds the city's soul.
The Tower is a towering religious institution in the coastal city of Shoreset, on the continent of Eyllwe. It serves as a sanctuary, a house of learning, and a spiritual anchor for the city's faithful. Its spires rise above the salt-worn rooftops, and its halls house priests, priestesses, and acolytes who tend to the rituals, prayers, and quiet scholarship that define the local faith. Throughout the Throne of Glass saga, the Tower functions as a minor location, primarily appearing in later books as a cultural landmark of Shoreset rather than a grounding point for Celaena Sardothien's early life. It is a place where the ordinary rhythms of prayer and community persist even as the wider world teeters on the edge of war and revelation.
- Type
- Religious institution / sanctuary
- Location
- Shoreset, Eyllwe
- Affiliation
- Local faith of Eyllwe
- Inhabitants
- Priests, priestesses, and acolytes
- First appears
- Later books in the Throne of Glass series
- Role in series
- Cultural landmark of Shoreset; minor setting
Lore & Background
In the coastal city of Shoreset, on the continent of Eyllwe, the Tower stands as a prominent religious institution, its spires a familiar sight above the salt-worn rooftops. Its walls are thick and ancient, its corridors lined with the soft murmur of recited prayers and the scent of incense. Acolytes climb its many levels to perform their duties—tending the sacred flames, copying scripture, preparing the faithful for seasonal observances. The Tower is not merely a building; it is a living community, a place where a child can find shelter, a scholar can find silence, and a grieving family can find a voice for their loss. For the citizens of Shoreset, the Tower is as natural as the harbor and the market square. It is where weddings are blessed, where the sick are visited, where the young are taught the first words of devotion. Its presence reminds the city that, beyond the politics of Adarlan and the shadow of the Black Blood, there is a smaller, more intimate order: the order of faith, community, and the steady rhythm of prayer against the chaos of the world. As the series unfolds and the true nature of power, magic, and the old gods is peeled back layer by layer, the Tower's role remains that of a cultural touchstone rather than a site tied to Celaena's personal history.
In Their Own Story
The evening bell had barely faded when the acolyte climbed the final stretch of stairs, her sandals whispering against the worn stone. The uppermost chamber of the Tower was quiet in the way only a place of prayer can be quiet—not empty, but full of a held breath. She lit the last of the evening candles, the small flame catching in the salt-thick air that always seeped through the high windows. Below, through the narrow slit of glass, Shoreset glittered in the dusk: the harbor lights, the smoke rising from a hundred kitchens, the distant crash of the sea against the breakwater. She pressed her palm flat against the cold wall, felt the centuries in the stone, and whispered the words her mother had taught her before the world had taken her mother away. The Tower held the sound. The Tower always held the sound. And for one small, sacred moment, the weight of everything that was coming—battles, betrayals, the unraveling of kingdoms—pressed gently against the walls and could not get in.
Reader's Guide
The Tower rises from the heart of Shoreset, its base broad and its upper stories tapering toward a single pointed spire that catches the last of the sunset. Its exterior is weathered stone, patched and repatched over generations, with narrow arched windows that let in thin blades of light. The ground level opens into a wide nave where the congregation gathers for the major observances; side chapels branch off for private prayer and the tending of the sick. The middle levels house the acolytes' dormitories, scriptoria where sacred texts are copied and studied, and the kitchens that feed the faithful during the long fasting periods. The upper floors are reserved for the senior priests and priestesses, who keep the eternal flame and oversee the Tower's spiritual life. A small garden, sheltered by the Tower's own walls, grows herbs for medicine and offerings. In the early books, the Tower is a place of warmth and routine—a backdrop to Celaena's childhood and the small, human world of Shoreset. As the series progresses and the scope of the conflict widens, the Tower becomes a point of contrast: its quiet, local faith set against the vast, ancient powers that are awakening. By the later volumes, what the Tower represents—community, continuity, the small prayers that hold a life together—becomes a thematic counterweight to the epic, world-shaking revelations. The building itself does not change, but the meaning the reader attaches to it deepens, and the prayers that echo off its walls take on a weight that was not there in the first chapter.
Did You Know?
- The Tower is one of the few locations in the series that remains a place of relative peace and normalcy, even as the political and supernatural conflicts escalate around it.
- The faith practiced in the Tower is rooted in the local traditions of Eyllwe, carrying a distinctly different cultural character from the political religion practiced in Adarlan.
- The Tower appears only in later books of the Throne of Glass series, not in the first book, and is not associated with Celaena Sardothien's early life or training.
- The Tower's physical design—its many levels, its narrow windows, its salt-worn stone—mirrors the layered, gradual nature of the city's spiritual life.
More in World & Setting
Elsewhere in the Throne of Glass universe
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