Chapter Forty-Two:

  "The Guardians’ Cry"

  The Grand Hall of Oakspire was alive with voices, though none spoke above a hushed whisper.

  The towering space, carved into the heart of the immense oak, was bathed in the golden light of the morning sun, streaming through grand windows that stretched toward the vaulted ceiling. Rows of balconies lined the chamber, filled with Eldorians watching from above, their expressions ranging from tense to respectful.

  Below them, on the ground level, nearly two thousand Players stood gathered, the survivors of London’s insertion. Some fidgeted, talking in hushed tones amongst themselves, while others stood still, their gazes locked on the figures seated at the head of the room.

  Emily sat beside Rendall at the front of the assembled Players, her glowing tattoos pulsing faintly against her skin in the early light. She kept her hands folded in her lap, her expression composed, though the weight of the moment pressed down on her like unseen chains. They were waiting. But for what?

  At the far end of the hall, a raised platform held the city's scholars, robed figures standing in solemn silence. Among them was General Aldric Varos, his golden armor catching the light as he stood beside who could only be the head scholar, a figure of authority whose presence commanded the room. His name had been spoken in reverence by those around him, Arch Scholar Elarion.

  Elarion stepped forward, lifting a hand for silence. The voices faded instantly. When he spoke, his voice was steady, honed by years of leadership and the burden of knowledge.

  "Brothers and sisters of Eldoria. Friends from beyond our Realm. We have gathered here because the world as we know it has changed."

  The hall remained still, every breath held in anticipation.

  "This morning, we received grave news. The Dark One has succeeded." His voice wavered, just for a moment. "The Waystone has been destroyed."

  The Eldorians turned to each other, shock hitting them like a blow to the chest. Gasps, curses, voices rising in disbelief.

  "He’ll never find them!"

  "He will never stop looking!"

  "The Players will save us!"

  The voices clashed, fear and faith mingling in the air like a growing storm. Emily kept her expression unreadable, her grip tightening subtly in her lap as the energy in the room surged.

  Elarion lifted both hands. "Enough!"

  Silence crashed back into the hall. The weight of his command settled over them like a physical force.

  His gaze swept the gathered souls, lingering on Emily and Rendall before moving back to the crowd. "Yes, the Waystone is gone. And yes, we know what that means. The Dark One will come for the Four Guardians of Eldoria."

  His words hung in the air, heavy, unshakable.

  "But as far as we know, the Guardians remain safe. And as long as they are protected, so is Eldoria."

  A feeling of dread passed through Emily. How certain could they be?

  Elarion took a breath before continuing, his voice steady but urgent. "We must not allow panic to take hold. The moment we surrender to fear is the moment we become lost. We have survived countless trials before, this will be no different."

  The hall remained silent, tension clinging to the air like static.

  The Grand Hall had fallen into silence, the echoes of the declaration still pressing against its walls.

  Emily could feel the weight of it all around her, the way it gathered around the Players and Eldorians alike. She had been expecting tension, maybe even disbelief, but not this. Not this silence that somehow felt alive, as if it waited in anticipation of what she would do next.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  And then Rendall moved.

  Emily felt it before she saw it, the way his body tensed like a string drawn too tight. His breathing stuttered, sharp and unnatural, and then he let out a strangled gasp, his hands flying to his temples as if trying to hold his own skull together.

  The movement was so sudden, so violent, that Emily flinched before she could think better of it. "Rendall?" she asked, reaching out instinctively, but the moment her fingers brushed against his arm, his body jerked as if struck by lightning.

  A shudder ran through him, and then.

  He lurched forward, toppling out of his seat, fingers clawing at his scalp. "No," he rasped, his voice raw, as if he were fighting against something that no one else could hear. "No, no, no, they're screaming, they're screaming!"

  The hall erupted into chaos, a surge of voices crashing over one another, fear and confusion spreading like wildfire. Emily felt her stomach knot. She had seen Rendall carry himself with the confidence of someone who belonged in the heart of battle, had heard the way others spoke of his skill. But this? This wasn’t a show of courage or defiance. This was sheer, uncontrolled collapse.

  "Rendall, what’s wrong?" she asked, gripping his shoulder, trying to anchor him, but he barely seemed to register her presence. His breath came in ragged, uneven bursts, his hands digging into his skull. His eyes, when he finally managed to look at her, were wild, unfocused, pupils blown wide.

  "They’re going to die!" The words ripped from his throat like they physically hurt him. "If they die, if they." He sucked in a sharp breath, shuddering, and then suddenly his head snapped upward, eyes fixed on something unseen. "The wind, the air itself." His voice wavered, caught between desperation and something worse. "It will stop moving. The air will turn stagnant. The world will not breathe. And her, her, if she falls." A tremor ran through his frame, his fingers trembling as he clutched his chest as though something inside him was physically pulling apart. "If she dies, nature itself will break. Plants will wither. Animals will perish. The seasons will fracture. The weather will spiral into chaos!"

  Emily’s heart pounded. She could hear the growing distress around them, the way the gathered Players were shifting, some exchanging uneasy glances, others inching away as if fearing an unseen force. Above them, the Eldorians on the balconies had begun whispering among themselves, their expressions ranging from worry to absolute fear.

  "Who?" Emily demanded, forcing her voice to stay level, steady, even as her mind raced. "Rendall, who are you talking about?"

  His lips parted, but it was as if the words refused to form. Then, with a sudden, breathless certainty, he gasped, "The Goddess showed me." He clutched the front of his tunic as if trying to ground himself, his whole body trembling. "The siblings, the brother and sister. They’re in danger. They're in danger now."

  At that, a sharp intake of breath came from the raised platform where the Eldorians stood. Emily’s gaze snapped to Elarion, the Arch Scholar. The color had drained from his face.

  "The Guardians of Air and Nature," Elarion said, almost too softly to hear. But Emily had heard, and the words sent a shiver of unease threading through her.

  Emily turned back to Rendall, her pulse hammering against her. "Where are they?"

  "Deep within the Great Oak," Elarion answered, his voice steady despite the way his hands gripped the edges of the podium. "In its tallest branches. No harm was ever meant to reach them there."

  Rendall’s expression eased, his breathing steadied "Then something has gone terribly wrong."

  The weight of those words settled over them all. The hall, filled with thousands, now felt too small, too still.

  Emily inhaled, slowly, she thought about her father. Just breathe. She forced her thoughts into order even as the unease in her gut continued to grow. She didn't know what was real, what was madness, what was divine, or what Gameweaver could possibly have in store. But she knew one thing for certain.

  They couldn’t ignore this.

  The weight of the revelation still hung heavy in the Grand Hall when Elarion stepped forward, his expression grave, shoulders squared bearing the burden of what he was about to say.

  "Emily. Rendall." His voice carried through the chamber, measured but urgent. "You must go. The children must be protected. Whatever force threatens them, whatever darkness seeks to undo what should never be undone, you are the only ones who can reach them in time."

  The other Players stirred at his words, shifting uneasily before voices began to rise. "We’ll go too!" one called out. "They won’t stand alone!" Another stepped forward, followed by more, the surge of volunteers growing as the reality of the danger set in.

  But before Elarion could answer, Rendall straightened, the color still not fully returned to his face. "No," he said, his voice raw but certain. "You can’t. Not all of you. The Great Oak’s highest branches aren’t meant to hold thousands. The structure can’t support the weight, and even if it could..." His hands clenched at his sides. "You need to stay here. If we fail," he swallowed hard, "you will all be needed here. If we don’t come back, you have to be ready. I saw it."

  A hush fell over the Players. Some exchanged uneasy glances, others hesitated, but the truth in his voice, his absolute certainty, was undeniable. And wasn't he meant to lead them? Slowly, the volunteers who had stepped forward gave small nods, stepping back into the crowd.

  Emily exhaled, glancing at Rendall before looking back up at Elarion. "We’ll go."

  The Arch Scholar bowed his head, relief glimmering behind his eyes. "May the Old Ones guide you both."

  Rendall drew in a steady breath, his stance firming. "Then let’s move."

  There was no more hesitation. The path was set. The top of the Great Oak awaited.