Artur Greymantle's Arc

Chapter 11 of 12

Artur heard footsteps on the path outside. He moved to the window and saw Xidan approaching through the trees, his coat dark against the morning fog. The man's expression gave nothing away, as always. Artur glanced back at his daughter's room, where the blue-gold guardian stood watch in the doorway. Xidan knocked once. Artur opened the door and Xidan's eyes went straight past him—not to Miri standing barefoot in the hall, her white dress catching the light, but to the spirit beside her. The guardian's blue-gold form solidified slightly, as if acknowledging being seen. Xidan studied it for three long breaths, then looked at Artur. "You didn't summon that," he said. Artur shook his head. Xidan set down a wooden box filled with smoked fish and preserved roots at the threshold. "For the firebird. Dual-state creatures need food from both realms." He paused. "The guardian will need the same." Miri stepped forward before Artur could respond. "You can see Rothe," she said, naming the spirit for the first time. Xidan nodded slowly. "I had the sight after my daughter crossed. It never left." His voice carried no emotion, just statement of fact. Artur felt the ground shift beneath him—Xidan hadn't just failed to bring his daughter back. He'd succeeded partway, enough to change himself permanently. Miri looked at the box, then at Xidan. "What happens if Rothe doesn't eat?" Xidan met her gaze directly. "The same thing that happens to any guardian that starves. It fades, and you lose your protection." Artur picked up the box, feeling its weight. He'd spent six years building theory to cross one bridge, but Miri had brought back something he had no framework for. Xidan had arrived with practical knowledge Artur lacked—not about familiars or bonding, but about what came after the crossing. Artur looked at his daughter, then at the guardian she'd named. "Show me what else they need," he said to Xidan. The man nodded once and stepped inside, and Artur closed the door behind him, accepting that his work had just begun in an entirely different direction.