THE SHATTERED SIGIL: CHRONICLES OF THE LAST DAWN

Chapter 6: The Sentinel of the Cliffs

Chapter 6: The Sentinel of the Cliffs

The journey eastward was relentless. The forest gave way to jagged stone and wind-swept ridges, where even the trees seemed too afraid to grow. Each step brought Alysandra and her companions closer to the sea — its roar distant but steady, like the heartbeat of something vast and ancient.

Kael led the way, blade strapped across his back, eyes scanning every shadow. Behind him, Varin grumbled as he clutched the pack containing their dwindling supplies. Alysandra walked last, her gaze distant. Ever since the vision in the Whispering Hall, she hadn’t been quite the same.

Her father’s words haunted her:

“Find the shards. Find me.”

The thought was both comfort and curse. She remembered his death — the smoke, the blood, the shattered crown — yet his voice in the Hall had been too real to ignore.

“You’re quiet again,” Kael said, glancing over his shoulder. “Thinking about him?”

Alysandra hesitated. “Always.”

Varin groaned. “Can we not talk about ghosts and curses before breakfast?”

Kael smirked. “Afraid the spirits might hear you?”

“I’m afraid she might summon one,” Varin muttered, nodding toward Alysandra.

She said nothing. Only her hand brushed the small crystal pendant at her neck — the one that had begun to pulse faintly since leaving the Hall.

By midday, they reached the edge of the cliffs. The world opened before them — a vast expanse of churning sea stretching to infinity, waves striking the rocks below with thunderous force.

Varin shielded his eyes. “Well, that’s terrifying.”

Kael stepped forward, scanning the horizon. “The map marks something here — a temple, maybe. But all I see are gulls and rocks.”

“Not rocks,” Alysandra whispered.

They turned. She was staring at a jagged formation jutting from the cliffside, half-hidden by mist. It looked like a ruin — arches and pillars, carved directly into the stone.

“The Temple of Winds,” she said softly. “It’s real.”

The entrance was narrow, forcing them to move single-file. Inside, the air was cold and heavy with salt. Wind whistled through cracks in the walls, creating a sound like distant singing. Strange carvings lined the stone — winged figures, circles, and symbols that pulsed faintly as they passed.

Varin brushed his fingers across one. “These runes… they’re warding marks. Old ones.”

Kael frowned. “Warding against what?”

The answer came before Alysandra could speak.

The air shifted — a tremor, then a deep rumble from within the temple. Dust fell from the ceiling. Somewhere ahead, metal scraped against stone.

Varin froze. “Please tell me that’s not what I think it is.”

Alysandra’s pendant flared bright blue. “The Sentinel.”

From the darkness emerged a shape — massive, humanoid, forged from bronze and stone. Its eyes burned with pale fire, and in its hand it held a blade the size of a tree. Every step shook the ground.

Kael unsheathed his sword. “Finally. Something I can actually hit.”

Alysandra caught his arm. “No! It’s not alive — it’s bound to protect the shard.”

Varin stumbled back as the Sentinel roared, a sound like grinding mountains. “Bound or not, it’s about to crush us!”

The fight began in chaos. Kael darted forward, blade flashing, striking at the creature’s legs. Sparks flew — his sword barely scratched the surface. The Sentinel swung in retaliation, sending him crashing into a pillar.

Alysandra raised her hands, chanting under her breath. The runes on the walls ignited in response, glowing blue. She could feel the energy here — ancient, powerful, waiting to be commanded.

“Varin, the inscriptions — they control it!” she shouted.

Varin blinked. “You mean the ones in a language I don’t read?”

“Then guess!”

He scrambled toward the nearest wall, tracing symbols frantically. “Alright, let’s see… circle, wings, flame — maybe this one means stop?”

The Sentinel froze for half a second — then turned toward him.

“Not stop!” Varin yelped. “Definitely not stop!”

Kael staggered to his feet, blood running down his temple. “I’ve got an idea,” he muttered, gripping his blade tighter. “Aly, can you hold its attention?”

She nodded. “Go.”

Alysandra spread her arms, focusing the energy of the temple. Light surged from her pendant, casting long shadows across the walls. The Sentinel paused, its eyes flickering.

“I am Alysandra Veyne,” she said, her voice echoing through the chamber. “Daughter of the Crownless King. You will not harm me.”

The creature hesitated. For the first time, the flame in its eyes dimmed — as if recognizing her.

Kael seized the moment. He leapt from a fallen pillar, driving his blade into the Sentinel’s neck joint. The impact rang like a bell. Cracks spiderwebbed across its body, glowing with light.

Alysandra channeled her magic, pressing her hand to the nearest rune. “By the words of the first seers,” she whispered, “I unbind thee.”

The entire chamber blazed. The Sentinel let out one last deafening roar before collapsing, its body crumbling to dust.

Silence.

Varin dropped to his knees, gasping. “Remind me never to travel with royalty again.”

Kael wiped his sword clean and glanced at Alysandra. “You alright?”

She nodded, though her eyes were distant. “The shard…”

From the ashes of the Sentinel, a faint light glowed. Alysandra stepped forward and reached out. Floating in the air was a crystalline fragment — the same blue as her pendant, humming softly.

When her fingers brushed it, warmth flooded through her veins. Memories flashed — her father standing in a throne room, the same shard in his hand, the same words on his lips: ‘Protect it, even from yourself.’

Then the vision faded.

Kael whistled. “Guess that’s shard number two?”

Alysandra stared at it, voice low. “No. This one feels different. It’s not just a piece of power — it’s a piece of him.”

Varin frowned. “You mean your father?”

“Yes.” She turned toward the sea, the wind whipping her hair. “And if I’m right… each shard is part of his soul.”

Kael sheathed his sword. “Then we’re not just collecting relics anymore.”

“No,” she said softly. “We’re bringing him back.”

Outside, storm clouds gathered over the sea once more. Lightning flashed on the horizon, illuminating a ship far below — a black vessel with golden sails.

On its deck stood a man in a mask of bone, holding a mirror etched with ancient symbols. The reflection within showed Alysandra at the cliff’s edge, holding the shard.

“She’s found the second one,” he said.

A low voice replied from the shadows behind him, deep and echoing.

“Then the game begins.”