The Protector’s Return

The group stumbled out of the mountain’s shadow, the air outside cold and biting but far less oppressive than the suffocating energy they had just escaped. Annie carefully laid Kyran down on a patch of moss-covered stone, his breathing shallow but steady. Annabeth knelt beside him, her hands trembling as she clutched the joined scroll fragments.

“We can’t keep going like this,” Emmalyn said, pacing nearby. Her sword was slung across her back, but her restless energy showed she wasn’t ready to relax. “Wendee’s not going to hold back forever. And Kyran...” Her voice faltered as she glanced at his unconscious form.

“He’ll make it,” Annabeth said softly, though her heart ached with uncertainty. “He has to.”

Annie stood a few paces away, scanning the horizon. “We need to find shelter and regroup. The mountain’s been stirred up, and I don’t think we’re the only ones running from it.”

Annabeth nodded, brushing a hand across Kyran’s forehead. The warmth of the scroll fragments was faint, their glow dimming as if even they were recovering from the strain. “Let’s move him. There has to be somewhere nearby where we can rest.”

As they lifted Kyran, a voice called out from behind them, startling them all into readiness.

“Wait.”

Annabeth spun around, the scroll fragments glowing faintly in her hands. Emmalyn drew her sword in one fluid motion, and Annie’s hand went to the vials at her belt.

Out of the trees stepped a tall man, his figure cloaked in the golden light of the setting sun. His hair was dark, streaked with silver, and he carried a long staff that glowed faintly with an amber light. His presence was commanding, yet there was a calmness about him that made Annabeth hesitate.

“I mean you no harm,” the man said, raising his hands in a gesture of peace. His voice was steady, warm, and laced with a weariness that spoke of long journeys. “My name is Jason. And if you’re here... it means Wendee hasn’t given up entirely.”

Annabeth’s breath caught, her grip on the scroll fragments tightening. “You know Wendee?”

Jason nodded, stepping closer. The light of his staff illuminated his face, revealing sharp features and kind but haunted eyes. “I do. I once fought beside her. We were protectors—guardians of the scroll fragments and the power they held.”

“You fought with her?” Emmalyn asked, her tone skeptical. “Then why is she trying to kill us now?”

Jason’s expression darkened, his shoulders slumping slightly as if the weight of the question had been pressing on him for years. “Because Wendee was corrupted. The scroll’s power doesn’t just exist—it yearns to be used. She thought she could wield it without consequence, but no one can. It twisted her, fed on her kindness, and turned it into something else.”

Annabeth exchanged a glance with Emmalyn and Annie, her heart racing. “She helped us,” Annabeth said. “Just now. She let us go.”

Jason’s eyes flickered with hope. “Then she’s not completely lost. The Wendee I knew—she was strong. A healer, a protector, a light in the dark. If even a fragment of that remains...” He trailed off, his voice heavy with emotion.

“Why are you here?” Annie asked, stepping forward cautiously. “If you’re one of the protectors, why haven’t you stopped her?”

Jason sighed, his gaze shifting to the horizon. “I’ve tried. For years, I’ve tried. But Wendee isn’t the only one who’s been touched by the scroll’s power. It’s bound to all of us who once guarded it. It calls to us, pulls at us. Some of us resisted, but others... others weren’t as strong.”

Annabeth’s heart sank. “You think it could corrupt you too.”

Jason nodded solemnly. “That’s why I stayed away—until now. But I felt the stone’s destruction, and I knew I couldn’t stand by any longer.” His eyes fell on the fragments in Annabeth’s hands. “The scroll is calling to you now, isn’t it?”

Annabeth hesitated, then nodded. “It’s guiding us, piece by piece. But Wendee said it’s dangerous to bring them together.”

“She’s not wrong,” Jason admitted. “The scroll’s full power is too much for anyone to wield. But its fragments are dangerous too—especially if they fall into the wrong hands. That’s why they must be kept apart... unless...”

“Unless what?” Emmalyn pressed, her grip on her sword tightening.

Jason looked directly at Annabeth, his expression grave. “Unless you’re willing to make the ultimate sacrifice. The only way to destroy the scroll’s power completely is to reunite its fragments and then shatter them in the place where it was first created.”

“Shatter them?” Annabeth asked, her voice shaking.

“The scroll is made of ancient energy—older than this mountain, older than us. It was forged in a place called the Rift, a point where the fabric of our world is thinnest. Reuniting the fragments will awaken its full power, but if you can destroy it at the Rift, that power will be scattered forever.”

“And if we fail?” Annie asked, her voice sharp.

Jason’s expression darkened. “Then whoever wields the scroll will have the power to reshape the world as they see fit. And no one—not you, not me, not anyone—will be able to stop them.”

The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, and Annabeth felt a knot of fear tighten in her chest.

“Then we have no choice,” she said softly, her resolve hardening. “We have to stop Wendee—and destroy the scroll.”

Jason studied her for a long moment, then nodded. “You’re braver than I expected. But you won’t be able to do this alone.” He knelt beside Kyran, placing a hand on his chest. A faint glow spread from his palm, and Kyran stirred slightly, his breathing becoming steadier.

“He’ll recover,” Jason said, standing. “But you’ll need more than just your strength to face what’s coming. You’ll need mine as well.”

Emmalyn raised an eyebrow. “So, you’re just joining us now? Just like that?”

Jason smiled faintly. “If you’ll have me.”

Annabeth exchanged a glance with the others, then nodded. “We need all the help we can get.”

Jason raised his staff, its amber light cutting through the growing darkness. “Then let’s prepare. The Rift is waiting—and so is Wendee.”