Page 177 of The Last Guardian

“You are not obligated to answer me if it’s something you don’t want to talk about,” Zaid declared, his gaze scanning our surroundings.

After a few moments of silence, I took a deep breath and answered him. “It appeared the day my mother died, when I woke up,” I admitted, looking at the far end of the creepy hall. “I suppose it happened during the time I forgot everything.”

“Have you shown it to someone? What might have caused it?”

I nodded. “Yes. But since I don’t know how it happened, they weren’t much help. They’re pretty sure it was a knife that did the job.”

“It seems profound,” Zaid muttered, glancing around as if he heard something coming from the walls. “It’s remarkable that anyone survived such a wound.”

I didn’t know what else to say about it. I decided to ask something else. “Where did they come from? The Dead Nymphs from the attack?”

Zaid looked around as he said, “From the sea directly.”

I frowned. Something was wrong. The Arakma were in Keraneeth, where magic was still a force.

But the Dead Nymphs… They had attacked near the shores of Perygan, far from the border of Keraneeth. Far from here, where the Hells had already taken root.

“We weren’t near Myrh when they attacked.”

Zaidkiel stayed quiet, his grim gaze fixed on the air. A destroyed, gigantic, black door rose at the end of the temple in front of us as we passed under a strange arch, the stone pale and curved, its surface mangled by time. A blend of chalk and ivory, subtly veined with yellow and gray. Between the fitted pieces, fine lines of resin or copper shimmered, filling the narrow joints like mortar.

But when my eyes scanned the patterns more closely, I realized the forms didn’t follow the neat lines of sculpted stone. It was fluid and curved, and each ended differently. It looked like bones.

Seven Hells, what I had taken for decorative grooves were actually striations—the grain of old bones. Nausea rose in my throat as I turned my gaze to Zaid.

“How did the Dead Nymphs attack us in the middle of the sea, since Myrh was nowhere near us then?”

He slowed his gait before turning to me. “You’ve already reached that conclusion, haven’t you?” Zaid sighed, trying to maintain his composure.

No.

“They’re not just in Myrh, are they?”

The answer was already evident in his eyes—but I needed to hear it.

“Did the Great Council already breach a hellhole in Perygan?”

“We’ve had some reports of attacks, but for now, most people think it’s animals.”

My heart fell in my chest. Was it already too late? Had the Hells already taken root in Perygan?

“If the Sankyanoia is capable of unleashing magic, why is Edoris also looking for it?” I questioned, my heart pounding in my chest. “How can it fuel magic?”

The High Mages were the ones who had banished magic. It didn’t make any sense.

Zaid didn’t reply; he stared at my face in utter silence.

Kraktos had warned that the Last Guardian could fall into the wrong hands…

The creature birthed of light and darkness will wake and shall either save the realms—or destroy them.

“What type of power have the High Mages been seeking in this creature?” I asked, confused, my voice trembling. I added, “Did others, such as the Order, also seek it?”

“You say that as if you fear the Order more than the High Mages.” Bitterness echoed in his tone.

“They have always been the Great Council’s sworn enemies,” I retorted. “Sadly, the Great Council is linked to the four kingdoms, and some royal family members have died because of the Order. It’s only fair to investigate this,” I reminded him, my voice cracking a bit.

Even now, the Great Council, the Order… They were all the same. A threat to peace.