THE LAST KEEPER

Chapter 356: 356: ALMOST TIME

Far from Thazir, inside a dimly lit chamber carved deep beneath the earth, three figures sat around a stone table. The room was illuminated only by a handful of blue flames that cast long shadows across the walls. One of the figures, a woman draped in dark robes, slammed her hand onto the table hard enough to crack the stone beneath it.

"He took everything." Her voice trembled with barely restrained rage. "The council, the tribes, even the people." The memories seemed to make her even angrier.

"They knelt for him even more deeply than they ever did me." The words came out almost like a curse.

"They all knelt! for that bitch’s son!!" Neither of the other two interrupted. The woman rose from her seat and began pacing.

"I built that city. I ruled those fools for years, and they abandoned me the moment he appeared." Her eyes burned with hatred. "I should have killed him the moment he arrived."

One of the men finally sighed. The sound was calm, almost bored.

"Then it is fortunate you did not."

The woman rounded on him.

"Fortunate? He humiliated me. He stripped me of everything. He turned the South against me." The man remained completely unmoved.

"And if you had attacked him then, you would be dead."

The woman’s jaw tightened.

She hated hearing it because she knew it was true. The second figure finally spoke. Unlike the first man, his voice was deep and rough.

"The reports match your story. The boy is dangerous."

The woman laughed bitterly.

"Dangerous? He commands all five relics. He has the Archive. He rides a monster large enough to swallow houses. He made an entire city kneel in one night or just one hour."

The first man leaned back in his chair.

"And yet here you are."

The woman frowned.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means he did not kill you." That shut her up. The man folded his hands. "Which means he made a mistake." For the first time, a smile appeared on his face, a cold smile.

"The preparations are almost complete." The woman slowly sat down, but her anger and her hatred remained. But curiosity had begun to replace both.

"How much longer?" The man glanced toward the darkness beyond the chamber.

"Not long."

His smile widened.

"The pieces are already in place. Let the boy enjoy his throne. Let him play Chief. Let him waste his strength governing." The woman said, and the woman felt a chill run down her spine with anticipation.

The man looked directly at her.

"So calm yourself, Rika." His eyes gleamed in the darkness. "Revenge is closest when it feels furthest away, my beautiful lady. You have done enough for me so far."

The woman remained silent for several moments, her fingers drumming against the cracked stone table. Eventually, she leaned forward.

"There is one thing that bothers me." The two men looked at her. "He should not be stable." The first man raised an eyebrow. "Explain." She laughed bitterly. "I watched him. I watched him force the five relics into submission. I watched him claim the Archive. I watched him stand before the South and act as though nothing had happened. That is impossible." Neither man interrupted. "No one was meant to hold all five relics. No one." Her voice hardened. "Even the records suggest the burden would destroy the bearer. Yet somehow he is still alive." The rough-voiced man leaned back. "Alive does not mean healthy." The chamber became quiet.

The first man slowly nodded. "I have been thinking the same thing." He reached into his robes and placed a bundle of reports upon the table. "Our eyes within Thazir have been busy." The woman immediately grabbed them. Her eyes moved rapidly across the pages. Then a smile appeared. Small at first. Then larger. "He secluded himself." "For nearly a month," the man replied. "Immediately after claiming the relics." The woman’s smile widened further. "And?" "He has barely been seen outside official functions." "And?" "Several servants reported hearing disturbances from within the fortress." Her eyes lit up. "Go on." "Broken furniture. Screaming. Days without visitors." The woman sat back in satisfaction. "I knew it."

The rough-voiced man folded his arms. "The relics are killing him." The woman nodded immediately. "Of course they are." "No," the first man said. "Not killing him." Both looked at him. "Breaking him." The distinction seemed important. He tapped the reports. "If he were dying, he would be easier to predict. This is worse. He is surviving." Nobody liked that answer. The woman frowned. "Then what are you suggesting?" The man sighed. "I am suggesting that every day he survives is a disaster for us." The room became still. "The boy we face today is weak." His finger tapped the table. "Weak enough to suffer." Another tap. "Weak enough to bleed." Another tap. "Weak enough to break." His gaze lifted. "But what happens if he masters the relics?" Nobody answered.

The rough-voiced man was the first to break the silence. "Then we lose." Simple. Direct. Honest. The woman hated hearing it, but she could not deny it. She had seen Sagiri’s dance above Thazir. She had seen the thousand blades suspended over an entire city. That had been while he was barely controlling his power. The thought of him mastering it was enough to make her uncomfortable. "Then we kill him first," she said. The rough-voiced man nodded. "Obviously." "No," the first man replied. "Not obviously." Both frowned. "Do not underestimate him simply because he is suffering. A wounded beast is still a beast." He leaned forward. "And that one commands five relics, an Archive, and a monster the size of a fortress." The woman clenched her fists. "Then what do you suggest?" The man’s smile returned. Slow. Patient. Dangerous. "We do not attack him when he is strongest." "We attack him when he is weakest." The woman stared. "And when will that be?" The man’s eyes gleamed in the blue firelight. "Soon." He tapped the reports again. "Very soon." Then his smile widened. "Because a man carrying that much power can only hide his weakness for so long before the world notices."

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