THE LAST KEEPER

Deep beneath Galka War Academy, the air was cold, still, and heavy with the scent of ancient minerals.

Torchlight flickered along the damp obsidian walls of the subterranean chamber, illuminating the Endless Pool’s luminous silver surface.

Sagiri knelt at the edge of the sacred water, his black shirt discarded onto the stone ledge.

Across his bare torso, shoulders, and jawline, the ink-black markings were burning with a terrifying, restless intensity.

The dark runes squirmed like living vipers across his skin, flaring with crimson and violet heat that made the surrounding air ripple with spatial distortion.

Grand Marshal Sikuwa knelt beside him, his slender fingers pressing lightly into the nerve clusters along Sagiri’s spine.

Master Sandshade Koru stood on the opposite side of the pool, his white, pupil-less eyes glowing faintly as he peered directly into Sagiri’s soul core.

”Lower your hands into the water, Supreme Chief,” General Zafaru urged quietly from the shadows, his weathered face tight with hope.

Sagiri reached out, dipping both hands into the luminous silver pool.

The moment his skin touched the sacred water, a violent hiss echoed through the cavern as thick black steam erupted from the surface.

Instead of soothing his burning veins, the silver water around his hands turned pitch-black and began to boil violently, recoiling from his touch like water splashed onto white-hot steel.

Sagiri pulled his hands back, his chest heaving as a sharp cough tore through his throat, spitting dark obsidian blood onto the rocks.

”It is as I feared,” Grand Marshal Sikuwa said softly, drawing his hands back as a grim shadow settled across his sharp features.

”What do you mean?!” Kaka shouted, his voice booming off the cavern walls as he stepped forward with wild panic in his eyes. ”The pool healed him before! Why is it boiling now?!”

”Because this is not a poison, Kaka,” Sikuwa answered, rising slowly to his feet. ”Rika’s venom was a foreign toxin that could be purged. The Five Relics are not a disease.”

”The Five Relics have fused permanently into his blood,” Master Sandshade Koru explained, his raspy voice heavy with ancient sorrow. ”The Golden Spear, the Beast Horn, the Stone Hammer, the Silver Mask, and Nokai are five primordial authorities.”

Koru pointed a trembling, bony finger at the writhing black markings across Sagiri’s ribs and collarbones.

”Mortal flesh was only meant to bear one relic for a few short hours,” Koru continued. ”Supreme Chief Sagiri has carried five within his bloodstream for months without the mandatory seclusion.”

”So what does that mean for him?!” Kaka demanded, his massive fists shaking as his northern temper flared with desperate fear. ”Tell us plainly!”

”It means his mortal lifespan has run out,” Sikuwa stated with blunt, agonizing finality.

A suffocating, dead silence fell over the subterranean cavern.

Kiuga dropped his notebook onto the stone floor, his sharp face turning completely pale as his voice shook. ”There has to be an error in the calculation. Sagiri is only seventeen. He is the strongest warrior on this continent.”

”Every Keeper throughout ten thousand years of history died upon reaching their eighteenth year,” Koru whispered, bowing his head in mourning. ”The Archive demands a mortal life to preserve the memory of the world. With five relics burning inside him, his eighteenth year has arrived early.”

”No!” Kaka roared in fury, slamming his heavy fist into the granite wall with enough force to crack the stone into spiderwebs. ”I don’t care about ten thousand years of dead Keepers! I will tear apart every mountain in the realm! I will drag the gods down by their throats! Sagiri is not dying!”

”Kaka, stop yelling,” Maita choked out, his usual sharp sarcasm completely shattered as tears gathered in his fierce eyes. ”You yelling won’t fix his veins.”

Beside the pool, Lira stood frozen, her face pale as snow as she stared at the boiling black markings on Sagiri’s chest.

She dropped to her knees beside him on the wet stones, grabbing his trembling hands and pulling them tightly against her chest.

”I won’t let you die, Sagiri,” Lira cried, tears spilling freely down her cheeks as her radiant emerald cellular light surged from her palms into his skin. ”I can heal torn muscles... I can knit broken bones... I will pour my vitality into you every single day!”

The green cellular light washed over his chest, but the ink-black runes greedily swallowed her healing energy in seconds, converting it into dark steam.

Sagiri gently reached up with his right hand, his thumb softly brushing the warm tears from Lira’s cheek.

”Lira, stop,” Sagiri murmured gently, his voice carrying a tender, heartbreaking warmth. ”You will only drain yourself. Do not waste your life on me.”

”It’s not a waste!” Lira sobbed, burying her face against his shoulder as she clung to him with all her remaining strength. ”Don’t say that... please, Sagiri, don’t leave us.”

Sagiri held her close, wrapping his arm securely around her trembling frame as he looked across the cavern at his squad.

Zolinka turned away, wiping his eyes on his sleeve, while Ulekai sat on a boulder with tears streaming down his bewildered, heartbroken face.

Lady Kiana stepped to the edge of the water, her dust-rose eyes glowing with ancient, solemn knowledge as she looked at the dark runes on Sagiri’s neck.

”There is one place where the Archive was born,” Kiana said softly, her voice cutting through the heavy grief in the chamber.

Grand Marshal Sikuwa and Master Sandshade Koru looked up in surprise. ”The Sekana archives speak of it?” Sikuwa asked.

”Yes,” Kiana answered, nodding gently. ”In the deepest desert of the South lies the primordial origin crater of Nkara. It is where the first Keeper opened the Living Memory.”

”The Nkara crater is a forbidden wasteland,” Koru warned with a deep frown. ”The spatial pressure there can crush an army to dust.”

”It is the only place where the void frequency is pure,” Kiana explained, looking directly into Sagiri’s dual-colored eyes. ”If the Keeper’s vessel must face the living memory, it can only be done at the altar of its creation.”

Sagiri looked down at his open palms, watching the black spatial sparks crackling faintly between his fingers.

He felt the burning heat of the Five Relics eating away at his heart, and he heard the mocking whispers of the Dark Keeper waiting in the shadows of his mind.

He knew Sikuwa and Koru spoke the truth; his mortal time was measured in mere days.

If his body shattered here at Galka, the resulting spatial collapse would obliterate the academy, his friends, and the city above.

Sagiri gently squeezed Lira’s hand one last time before looking up at his companions with calm, resolute eyes.

”We leave the pool,” Sagiri commanded quietly, rising to his feet as the dark markings settled into a faint, glowing hum along his jaw. ”Let us return to the surface.”

As the squad walked slowly up the winding stone stairs, Sagiri looked back at the dark, boiling waters of the Endless Pool, his heart making the final, painful choice in silence.