Page 93 of The Last Guardian

Zaidkiel turned his head, glancing my way as if to say, “Your call.”

A deep rising pull urged me to say no, to run far away from this Oralys, but… the images I saw. The agony, the carnage that threatened to spread on Erath again. I couldn’t let this happen.

I stared at Zaidkiel and gave him a silent nod.

Zaidkiel’s jaw clenched as he asked in a dark tone, “Is it certain we will find the Sankyanoia with your relic, Kraktos?”

Kraktos smiled and shook his head. Nothing can be certain; all things can be possible. But one will never know if one never tries.

The Oralys took a step forward, taking my hand in the process, and I prepared myself for a frigid touch. But instead, I felt a surprising warmth. His touch was like a gentle flame, a tingling sensation that spread up my arm.

Keep it with you all the time; it will always bring you where you belong.

In the hollow of my palm, Kraktos placed something cold. Small and round, its coolness contrasted with his touch. Just as I was about to lower my eyes, Kraktos gently inclined my head, forcing me to meet his intense gaze.

Remember that sometimes what you’ve been waiting for all along is right in front of you, Child of the Heavens.

His cryptic nicknames weren’t particularly endearing, as he seemed to think.

When he released me, I was almost sure he would vanish, but before he let us go, he turned to Zaidkiel.

Save them all before it’s too late. Kraktos looked at both of us and added, Or we all shall fall.

I saw him casting a darkness, ready to vanish with it, but before Kraktos could completely disappear, I asked, “What about the mark?”

Kraktos went still. His body emerged from the darkness, and he reformed his monstrous face before my eyes.

It might have been a foolish question, but the mark was still etched into my skin, and it was driving me mad. If Haedeon put it on me, I wanted to know what it meant and how he could use it against me. Kraktos tilted his head as I rolled up my sleeve to show it to him.

“It formed during my mother’s memorial, on the fifth anniversary of her death… It was moving and burning at first, but now it’s stopped. Do you know what it is? How to get rid of it?”

Kraktos glanced at Zaidkiel, who was looking at the mark with a frown. Kraktos laughed. A horrible, strident laugh. The Oralys came closer, observing the mark before leaning in and saying, It’s your destiny.

With a hand gesture, Kraktos vanished into thin air.

Zaidkiel and I exchanged a glance, trying to understand what had happened—what he meant by destiny.

My thoughts stopped, swirling to the cold emerging in my palm. I looked down at my hand, opening it.

In the center, resting against my skin, was a completely black coin. As it absorbed the surrounding light, it darkened even further. I turned it over; the tiny circle in its center shimmered, a subtle, deep, icy blue glow, contrasting with the black of the metal.

A color that not only shone but pierced the darkness.

RAIN LASHED OUR faces, mingled with a persistent whistling wind as our steeds descended the mountain.

The moment Kraktos vanished, a hailstorm struck the mountain peak. What should have been a one-hour descent of the mountain turned into a three-hour ordeal as rain poured down, soaking our clothes.

If everything had worked as planned, we should have been at Ade’s by now. But the night had already fallen into the sky when we reached the foot of the mountain, and we decided to stop at the nearest city. The moonlight lit the pathway as our horses arrived in town—Calenth.

Zaidkiel straightened up on his horse as we passed the gates, his shoulders tensed. A dark hood and mask concealed the lower half of his face—a supple leather mask, deep black like the rest of his outfit. Its shape perfectly followed the contours of his face.

Stopping near a tavern, Zaidkiel dismounted his horse before helping me, as we let our steeds rest for the night. The paved, rain-slicked street opened before us, my boots slipping on the stone as we made our way to the door.

Zaidkiel and I entered the building—far larger than Ade’s, a hubbub of laughter and clutter drummed in the room. Zaidkiel headed to the counter while I waited near the stairs. He chatted with the receptionist about rooms for tonight.

My gaze grazed the great hall, long wooden tables full of people sharing drinks and meals, explosions of laughter thrumming in the room.

Keraneeth felt so much more alive than Perygan; people still thrived on the small joys of life. A peace that could easily be shattered if we couldn’t put our hand on the Sankyanoia.