THE LAST KEEPER

Chapter 312: 312. AZIR’S TOUR

Sagiri opened his door, expecting an empty corridor, and stopped. Azir was standing outside casually as if he had not been waiting long, hands behind his back and expression far too awake for the hour. How was he even awake already? The moment he saw Sagiri, he straightened and smiled.

”Big brother! You are awake!” Azir cheered with excitement.

Just who had Sagiri offended in his past life?

He gets attacked when he wants to sleep, and right when he wakes up, he gets attacked again. Azir looked too cheerful in the early morning.

”Azir...” Sagiri said, furrowing his eyebrows.

Before Sagiri could ask anything, Azir stepped forward and held something out. Resting in his palm was a small trinket. two tiny crossed blades bound together with dark thread and worn smooth around the edges from years of being handled. It looked old. Azir scratched the side of his face awkwardly.

”You said you couldn’t sleep yesterday.” He pushed the little blades closer. ”My mother gave me these when I was younger. She said twin blades confuse nightmares because bad dreams don’t know which one to follow.” He laughed quietly at himself. ”I don’t know if that actually works... but I slept better after she gave them to me.” He pressed one trinket into Sagiri’s hand before he could refuse.

”Use one for tonight, maybe your nightmares will chase me instead.” Then, with the same cheerful expression, he stepped backward and pointed down the corridor. ”I’m going to buy sleeping medicine too, just in case my mother was wrong.” He grinned. ”Don’t return them until you sleep properly.”

What was he? Six?

He had waited out the door in the early morning to give him trinkets. Thazir was doomed. Even so, Sagiri could not help but breathe a laugh. He wanted to tell him the little sword toys were his mom’s way of playing with his mind, but he refrained. The boy looked way too excited, and he was not a monster to crush his heart.

”Thank you, Azir,” Sagiri said, letting the small thing get absorbed into the archive pocket.

”Don’t lose it. I will keep mine well.” Azir said in a slightly serious tone. It seemed the blades meant a lot to him.

”Okay, Azir. What else did you want?” Sagiri asked.

”I want to show you my turf.” Azir lit up enough to burn the sun. The itching feeling had yet to leave Sagiri, but it’s not like he knew what was making him restless in particular.

”Don’t you have training or anything?” Sagiri asked in a strict tone.

”Well...” Azir scratched the back of his head. ”I will train an extra hour tonight to make up for this.” Sagiri shook his head.

”Fine. lead the way.” Sagiri said in defeat.

”I knew you were curious about seeing my turf.”

Azir walked ahead without waiting to see if Sagiri followed and immediately started talking.

”You know, nobody warned me chiefs were this difficult to host. First, you arrive looking like a rogue, then apparently, you don’t sleep. It is my duty to make sure you sleep well,” He glanced back briefly before continuing down the corridor.

The inner halls of the war fortress opened around them wide stone walkways, warm lantern light, and quiet servants moving in practiced silence. Azir seemed completely used to it.

”Anyway, let’s go to the dining wing. We should eat before Uncle and his men get there. Uncle loves to talk a lot, and he will ask why I am bothering you.” Azir yapped away about anything as he led the way. The boy was really just a baby in a big body and lacked self-awareness.

He pointed randomly ahead.

”Don’t open the second courtyard gate unless you want old tailors asking who your tailor is.” He said, looking at Sagiri’s clothing behind the black cloak. He kept walking.

”Also, the food here is actually good, which surprised me because important places usually make terrible food for appearance.” He lowered his voice dramatically. ”The War fortress food is basically punishment with seasoning.” He looked sideways at Sagiri.

”You’re quiet. That’s okay. I’ll speak enough for both of us.” What could Sagiri possibly say? The boy was barely breathing between the random information he was dumping on him. He immediately continued anyway.

”Oh... and if anyone asks if you’re attending evening discussions, say I already stole you. It sounds official if I say it confidently.” By then, they had already crossed two terraces and passed under carved stone arches leading deeper into the wing. Azir pushed open a pair of heavy doors, and warm air carrying spices and fresh bread rolled out. He stepped aside with a grin.

”See? I saved you from taking the long way here. You owe me at least half a conversation over food.” That being said, Azir continued talking about anything and everything over breakfast and did not give Sagiri a chance to speak.

After breakfast, the Azir turf tour finally began.

”Don’t worry, Wibo, my right-hand man, will take care of your squad.”

”You’ve seen where serious people stay,” he said cheerfully as they descended deeper into the War Fortress. ”Now I’ll show you where the interesting people live.”

He took him into the fourth wing, the section occupied by him and his men. Unlike the fifth level, it felt alive. Azir gave a running explanation of everything without slowing down. He pointed out the training terraces, explained how units rotated through the wing, showed the common halls, observation paths overlooking Thazir, and several places his squad apparently considered important.

He greeted people constantly. Everyone in the fortress seemed to know him. The walk kept going until morning became late morning. Eventually, Azir brought Sagiri to his quarters and proudly showed him his collection wall. Weapons covered one side completely, paired blades, old bows, damaged spearheads, unusual arrows, knives, and pieces collected over the years.

Azir explained each one like it had a story worth telling, pointing out gifts, souvenirs, and at least one weapon he admitted he kept only because it looked impressive. By the time they finally left the fourth wing, the sun had already climbed close to midday, and Sagiri realized Azir had somehow spent hours talking without waiting for him to speak.

He did not mind anyway. It helped him keep the uneasy feelings he was feeling at bay.

”Azir, you shouldn’t show anyone your wing easily,” Sagiri said after the tour came to an end and his ears had started bleeding from how Azir had been chatting his ear off.

”I only showed you and Wibo my collection of weapons and my inner wing. Many people only treat me with respect because of my uncle and my title, and they dare not walk into my wing. You chastised me, and it made me happy, and you also said you won’t recognize me as city lord. It made me so happy. Most people just flatter me, and I don’t have friends. You already feel like a friend.” Azir said.

To that, Sagiri understood. Perhaps he understood it more than anyone else. Being different meant no friends. He only made friends when he went to Galka Academy.

”You just have to find that one person who doesn’t see you as your title or the power you wield,” Sagiri said.

”That person is you and Wibo. Only Wibo spars with me seriously and chastises me. That is why I chose him to be my right-hand man.” Azir said.

Perhaps the boy was not so naive. He was just a little immature.

”Still, you should understand you have a title, and your life will not be a normal one,” Sagiri said. Azir nodded before he continued chewing his ears off back to the fifth wing.