As I neared camp, the sight of Luke emerging from the tent with a sense of urgency painted a stark contrast against the backdrop of our makeshift refuge. "Luke, wait!" I called out, my voice tinged with a mix of concern and confusion. "Where are you going?"
"I have to find Cody," he replied without breaking his stride, his determination evident as he continued towards the Portal.
Curiosity, mixed with a hint of alarm, propelled me into a gentle jog to keep pace with my brother. "Who's Cody?" I asked, the name unfamiliar, adding yet another layer of complexity to the already bewildering situation.
Luke stopped abruptly, turning to face me. For a moment, he seemed lost in thought, his eyes scanning the horizon as if searching for answers in the desert that surrounded us. Then, leaning in close, he shared in a hushed tone, "He's a Guardian."
The word 'Guardian' hung in the air between us, heavy with implications I could scarcely grasp. "What the hell is a Guardian?" I gasped, my mind racing to make sense of this new revelation.
"Like me," Luke stated bluntly, the simplicity of his answer doing nothing to quell the storm of questions brewing within me.
"What… how…?" I stammered, struggling to piece together the fragmented puzzle.
Luke shook his head, a gesture of frustration or perhaps confusion. "I don't completely understand it myself yet," he admitted, an acknowledgment of the profound uncertainty that seemed to shadow us at every turn.
For a fleeting moment, a spark of optimism ignited within me. "But there are more of… you?" I asked, clinging to the hope that perhaps we were not as alone in this fight as we had feared. Anything, I thought, to bolster our chances of survival.
"Yes," Luke confirmed. "But don't tell the others yet. Not until we know it's safe."
"Safe?" The word echoed hollowly in my mind, dousing the flicker of hope with cold apprehension. My heart sank, the brief surge of optimism quashed by the weight of Luke's caution.
Luke's next words were heavy with implication. "I still don't know who killed..." He hesitated. ”Who, ah, slit Joel's throat. Cody thinks whoever did it mistook Joel for me."
The revelation struck me like a physical blow. "Shit, Luke," I gasped, the danger we faced suddenly taking on a more personal and immediate threat.
"I need answers," Luke declared, his voice laced with a determination that was both admirable and terrifying. With that, he resumed his brisk pace, leaving me to process the whirlwind of information he had just imparted.
"So, does that mean Joel is really dead?" I found myself asking, the weight of the situation making my steps heavier as I struggled to keep pace with Luke. The absurdity of what had transpired, coupled with the uncertainty of our next steps, made each word feel like a burden.
As we neared the Portal, it erupted into life, its colours swirling in a dazzling display of energy that captivated and unnerved me in equal measure. I halted, momentarily caught in the spectacle, my mind racing with questions about its operation. The absence of any visible mechanism, save for Luke's proximity, lent an air of mystique to the device. It's a fascinating phenomenon, if not somewhat disturbing, I mused, the memory of the eerie Clivilius voice echoing in my mind, its cryptic messages a source of ongoing intrigue and unease.
"Luke," I called out, an urgency in my voice that halted him in his tracks, just seconds from stepping through the Portal. He turned, an expectant look on his face.
"Don't get yourself killed, okay? We still need you." The words tumbled out, a mix of concern, plea, and a stark reminder of the danger he was in.
Luke offered a small, reassuring smile, a rare glimpse of warmth amidst recent events. "I'll do my best," he replied, his voice carrying a weight of promise and determination. Then, with a step that seemed both bold and inevitable, he vanished into the mesmerising colours of the Portal, leaving me alone with my thoughts and fears.
Guardians… The word lingered in my mind, a concept both comforting and daunting. I took a moment to gather my scattered thoughts, the throbbing in my arm a constant reminder of the immediate dangers we faced. Glancing down, I noticed with a grimace that the skin around the wounds was turning grey once again. Is this a normal reaction from a wound like this? Doubt and concern swirled within me, a tumultuous mix that offered no clear answers. I really have no idea.
The last thing the camp needed was more panic, more questions without answers. Yet, as I stood there, contemplating the uncertain path ahead, I knew that silence was not an option. It was time to seek out Glenda. Her expertise, her calm demeanour in the face of the unknown, offered a sliver of hope that perhaps there might be a way to understand, to counteract the unsettling changes my body was undergoing.
