Page 118 of The Last Guardian

From time to time, a few lieutenants came to talk with the commander, walking him to another seat. I listened to the soldiers bickering with the captain and the general, yet my mind was elsewhere, with its own battles.

I spent the rest of the night staring at anything that wasn’t him. Each time I failed, and each time, Zaid was gazing back.

COME TO ME, whispered a dark voice echoing within the cavern, urging me to approach.

Tiny crystalline shards shimmered in the darkness, illuminating the way for me to follow. My hand rested on the damp cave wall, water dripping onto my palm.

Their movements urged me to join them in a dance, like stars in the night sky, guiding me towards the right path. As the light burst, lighting the cave entirely, my eyes scanned the area until they met the stone—dripping with blood.

No, no, no, no, no.

It wasn’t water—it was blood soaking my skin. My eyes looked up, and I stumbled. My heart stopped at the sight of what was unfolding before me: familiar faces, nailed like paintings hanging on the walls. Their blood dripped down, falling onto my cheeks before beading like tears.

No, no, no, no, no.

My brothers, my sisters—their bodies punctured by nails driven through their chests, throats, and fingers. Their faces captured in death. Terror.

I collapsed to my knees, gazing at those stilled faces, my heart splintering into millions of fragments.

Sounds of thousands of clattering claws reverberated, shaking the ground and carrying a scent.

Rot.

Decay.

Death.

The noise grew louder and louder, thudding the air, thrumming beneath my feet.

Growls, curses, and laughter mingled, jumping on me. The noises devoured me, reaching my bones, while my eyes were still fixed on my brothers and sisters.

Panting for air, I awoke in my bed, drenched in sweat.

A nightmare, just a nightmare.

My siblings were safe, still in Perygan—but safe. My breathing ragged, I tried to calm my heartbeat, taking deep, slow breaths.

The nightmares had subsided since I left Lorath. I had almost forgotten how vivid they were. How palpable the senses could be—overwhelming me wholly.

I stood up, went to the window, and gazed at the dark sky, where the stars shone through.

The room was bathed in moonlight. The moon, the stars, were the only things that calmed me in these nights of terror.

When my mother passed away, I found myself spending every night at the window, staring up at the twinkling sky and counting the numberless stars, believing one of them was her—one of my stars, lighting my path through the darkness.

She’d be sparkling to help me fight the darkness creeping inside my soul. The darkness urging me to believe the good would never return.

My mother—my light in the darkness of my soul, even after her death.

In the blackness of this night, I gazed up at the stars, reaching for one of them to be her tonight. And I let my tears flow down my cheeks.

“ONCE MORE.” DAX stood before me, immobile, his sword an extension of himself.

Under a leaden sky, I stood in the middle of the training ground, near the camp, the golden forest looming behind us. My gaze fixed on the heavy weapon in my hands. Less practical and more difficult to maneuver than the bow I was accustomed to wielding, yet it was precisely what I longed to master today.

I nodded to Dax, and he attacked me without warning. A sudden, harsh movement from above caught me off guard. I awkwardly raised my blade, and the metal clashed with a dull thud that resonated from my shoulder to my hand. I took a step back, then two, but it wasn’t enough.

“Don’t run away. You must hold your ground,” Dax affirmed with a serious face, his hair tied back in a bun at the back of his head.