THE LAST KEEPER

Chapter 371: 371: TIPPING OVER

For two weeks, the Endless Pool remained perfectly still. Not a ripple disturbed its black surface, not a single sign betrayed what lay beneath its impossible depths.

The cavern beneath Galka War Academy had become a place of unbearable silence.

N’varu spent most of his days seated cross-legged before the water with his eyes closed, saying little.

They had all tried to go into the pool, but it rejected them and spat them out almost immediately.

Salka hid his concern behind his usual calm, though the tightening of his jaw each passing day betrayed him.

Lotaga had nearly worn a path into the stone from pacing, muttering every remedy he knew beneath his breath despite knowing none of them could reach the man beneath the water.

Only Zaira never moved.

The colossal beast refused food, refused rest, and never once left the edge of the Endless Pool.

She lay with her enormous head lowered toward the black water, releasing the occasional low whimper that echoed mournfully through the cavern, as though she could still feel her master’s presence somewhere beneath the endless depths.

Then, on the morning of the fifteenth day, the water moved.

It did not ripple outward as ordinary water would. Instead, the surface folded inward upon itself, drawing into a single perfect circle that slowly widened across the pool without creating so much as a splash.

N’varu’s eyes snapped open instantly.

”He is back,” he said quietly, though the certainty in his voice left no room for hesitation. Everyone retreated several paces while even Zaira’s head lifted from the edge of the pool, every muscle in her enormous body tensing.

The circles suddenly stopped.

For one impossible heartbeat, the cavern became completely silent. Then darkness erupted from the center of the pool. It shot upward like a pillar that swallowed every trace of light around it.

It was as though the darkness had devoured light itself. An unbearable pressure descended upon the cavern. Stone groaned and dust rained from the ceiling. Lotaga was forced to one knee while several Sandshades instinctively reached for weapons they immediately realized would be useless.

Even Salka found himself struggling to remain standing. Only Zaira endured the pressure without lowering her head, though her ears flattened as she stared into the heart of the darkness. Then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the pillar began collapsing into itself. Layer after layer folded inward until the impossible darkness shrank into a single point suspended above the water before vanishing completely.

Sagiri stood where it had disappeared, suspended upon the black surface of the Endless Pool as though the water itself had become solid beneath him.

His appearance had changed in subtle but unmistakable ways. The crimson that had consumed his hair was gone, leaving it almost entirely black save for a single crimson strand resting against his forehead.

The markings that had once spread wildly across his body now lay dormant beneath his skin like faded ink, no longer writhing with restless power. Yet it was his eyes that held everyone captive.

They no longer burned with grief or vengeance. They looked impossibly ancient, carrying a stillness that made him seem far older than any man standing in the cavern. He slowly opened his hand, watching a thread of darkness drift from his palm before dissolving harmlessly into the air.

”Interesting...” he murmured, his voice quieter than any of them remembered. Before anyone could speak, Zaira surged forward, stopping only when her enormous head rested gently against his chest. The beast released a trembling whimper so full of relief that even Salka looked away. Sagiri smiled faintly and rested his hand against her scales.

”I know, beauty,” he whispered. ”I’m home.” But somewhere deep within him, beyond even his own thoughts, countless distant voices stirred before fading once more into silence.

Sagiri looked from one familiar face to another, lingering on the exhaustion etched into each of them before the faintest smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

”You all seem restless,” he said calmly. ”I have only been away a few hours.”

The words were met with stunned silence. Lotaga blinked twice. Matasi stared at him as though he had misheard. Even N’varu slowly opened his eyes. Then Salka let out a dry laugh and shook his head.

”Hours?” he repeated. ”Sagiri... you’ve been lying in that pool for two weeks.” The smile disappeared from Sagiri’s face.

”Two... weeks?” he echoed quietly.

”Two weeks,” Salka confirmed. ”While you were asleep in your little world, the rest of us have been trying to stop the continent from setting itself on fire.”

Matasi folded his arms with an irritated snort.

”Things have gone to shit,” he muttered.

”War is upon us.” Koru, who had remained silent until then, stepped forward, unable to hide the frustration in his voice. ”I should be on the front lines preparing the South,” he said. ”Instead, I’ve been sitting in this cave for days... babysitting you.”

There was no real anger in his words, only the strain of a man being pulled away from his duty. Sagiri lowered his gaze for a long moment, absorbing everything without a flicker of panic. The Archive stirred quietly within him, almost urging him to ask more, but he silenced it. When he finally looked up again, his expression remained impossibly calm.

”Then the plan moved more quickly than I expected,” he said. He climbed fully from the edge of the Endless Pool, water sliding from his clothes before vanishing as though the darkness itself absorbed every drop.

The chill of the northern cavern suddenly settled upon him, and he glanced down at his soaked garments.

”I will need warm clothes,” he said matter-of-factly before looking back at the gathered warriors. ”Then... fill me in.” His crimson eyes swept over every face.

”It cannot possibly get any worse in the next hour or two,” Sagiri said, gliding to the centre of the room.

Sagiri slowly climbed the last stone steps leading out of the cavern, Zaira squiizing his enmous body faithfully behind him while the others followed in silence. The familiar corridors of Galka War Academy greeted him with their weathered stone walls and narrow archways, worn smooth by generations of warriors who had passed through them.

He reached out absentmindedly, letting his fingertips brush against the cold rock as he walked. The moment his skin touched the ancient stone, countless faint echoes stirred at the edge of his consciousness. The laughter from young cadets racing through the halls, the clash of swords, stern instructors barking corrections, victories celebrated, defeats endured, friendships forged over decades.

The Archive offered them to him instinctively before he gently pushed them back. Not now. For the first time since inheriting the relic, he found that he could choose how deeply he listened. The whispers faded into a distant murmur, allowing him to appreciate the academy for what it was rather than what it remembered. It felt... peaceful.

They eventually entered one of the academy’s private chambers, where fresh clothes and food had already been prepared. Sagiri quickly changed into heavier northern garments, fastening the dark cloak across his shoulders before finally sitting at the long wooden table. Zaira had disappeared into the woods surroinding galka on Sagiri’s order. Sagiri broke the silence first.

”Start from the beginning.”

Salka nodded once.

”Before that,” he said, ”there’s something you should know. Senraki came.”

Sagiri looked up.

”He arrived three days after we threw you into the pool,” Salka continued. ”Then disappeared again.”

”Where?”

Salka shrugged.

”He wouldn’t say. Just that there was something he needed to do.”

”He said he’d return today,” N’varu added quietly. ”Or tomorrow at the latest. He seemed... troubled.”

Sagiri frowned slightly but said nothing. If Senraki had left unfinished business to seek him out, then whatever it was could wait a few more hours.

Salka leaned forward, folding his hands together.

”Now for everything else.”

His expression hardened.

”The morning after you disappeared beneath the pool, word reached the North that the entire southern border garrison had been wiped out.”

Matasi snorted.

”You certainly know how to make an entrance.”

”No one knows you left afterward,” Salka continued. ”As far as the North is concerned, the Supreme Chief of the South declared war.”

”And the South?” Sagiri asked.

N’varu answered this time.

”The South believes exactly what we feared.” His voice carried obvious fatigue. ”You vanished inside enemy territory. No one has heard from you in two weeks. Zifara assumes you’ve either been captured... or you’re marching deeper into the North alone.”

A faint smile almost appeared on Sagiri’s face.

”He would assume the second.”

”He did,” N’varu admitted. ”For about three days.”

The smile vanished.

”And now?”

”Now,” N’varu said gravely, ”both continents are mobilizing. The border has become one enormous battlefield waiting for someone foolish enough to strike first. Zifara has called every southern banner. The northern tribes have answered the Supreme Mandra’s summons. Supply lines are moving. Fortresses are reinforcing. Scouts are disappearing every night.”

Salka exhaled slowly.

”We’re no longer trying to prevent a war, Sagiri.”

He held Sagiri’s gaze.

”We’re trying to stop the first battle... because once that happens, no one will be able to stop the rest.”