THE LAST KEEPER

Chapter 350: 350: FESTIVITIES

A month later, Thazir wore an entirely different face. A month after Sagiri became chief and a month after he escorted his friends north. For a month, he had been in seclusion, too. The day after Lira eased his pain, it returned with a vengeance. By sunset, the relief was gone, and by dawn the agony had become so unbearable that Sagiri knew he could not allow anyone to see him. He handed temporary authority over the city to Zifara, ordered the Chief’s Fortress sealed, and disappeared into seclusion.

"Why did you announce having the relics anyway? Someone might know you are weakened." Zifara was frustrated.

"Just keep the city in order. I need a few days. Even a daring killer won’t dare come at me now. My beast is not weakened even so." Sagiri said.

"It is not like telling anyone you are weakened works in my favour. " Zifara had said. Sagiri’s seclusion had begun then. No one was permitted inside the chiefs’ fortress. Even the chiefs’ shadows had been taken out. Just Sagiri, Koru, and Zaira. Not even Azir.

Above the fortress, Zaira perched upon the highest roof and remained there for days without moving. Inside, Sagiri endured hell. For the first two weeks, it felt as though he had been set ablaze from within. Fire coursed through his veins, burned beneath his skin, and gnawed at his bones.

Sleep became impossible because the moment exhaustion dragged him into unconsciousness, the pain would rip him awake again. More than once, he collapsed onto the cold stone floor, trembling, fingers clawing at the ground until his nails broke. Food became useless. Water offered little relief. Entire days vanished into a haze of sweat, shaking muscles, and silent suffering.

The city believed their Supreme Chief was meditating. Some thought he was mastering the relics. Others whispered that he was communing with the Archive. None of them knew that while Thazir carried on with his daily life, Sagiri spent every waking moment fighting simply to survive the power he had forced into a body never meant to contain it.

Now, however, the city seemed to hum with anticipation. Colorful banners stretched between rooftops, fluttering lazily in the warm evening breeze while lanterns of dyed glass hung from poles and balconies, waiting for nightfall to set them ablaze with color. Market streets overflowed with merchants selling sweets, carved trinkets, bright fabrics, and festival masks, their voices blending into a cheerful roar that echoed through the city.

Children darted through the crowds with painted cheeks and ribbons tied around their wrists while musicians tested drums and flutes in the squares, filling the air with fragments of songs that would not fully come alive until tomorrow. The scent of roasting meat, sweet pastries, and spiced tea drifted through every district. Even the stone buildings seemed transformed beneath garlands of flowers and woven streamers.

Workers rushed to finish decorations while families gathered on rooftops and balconies to admire the preparations below. As the sun slowly descended toward the horizon, thousands of lanterns waited patiently for darkness, promising that once night arrived, the city would shine like a field of fallen stars. It was the eve of celebration, that rare moment when an entire city seemed united by excitement, and everywhere one looked, there was laughter, color, and the feeling that something important was about to begin.

The celebration could not be delayed forever. What had begun as a proposal from the council had quickly spread across the South until every tribe, every settlement, and every city had embraced it. It was to be a festival welcoming Sagiri as the new Supreme Chief of the south and Keeper.

The problem was that the man they intended to celebrate was still hidden inside the Chief’s Fortress. For nearly a month, he had remained in seclusion, fighting a battle no one else could see. Yet there were some duties that even he could not ignore. A Supreme Chief could not miss his own ascension festival. The people needed to see him.

The tribes expected it.

The council demanded it. It could seem they were not willing to offer him any rest. And so, several days before the festivities were set to begin, the sealed doors of the fortress finally opened. Word spread through Thazir faster than wildfire. The Supreme Chief was emerging. Few knew that he was cutting his seclusion short, and even fewer still understood the cost. Because while the city prepared for music, feasts, and celebration, Sagiri was still very much in pain. The fire inside him had not gone out. He had merely learned how to sit in the flames without screaming. The mask would have to hold a little longer. At least until the South finished celebrating the ruler it believed had already conquered his demons.

Sagiri stood atop Zaira’s head as the beast overlooked the awakening city below. Dawn painted Thazir in shades of gold, but the warmth never seemed to reach him. He looked thinner than he had a month ago. His cheeks were slightly hollow, his skin pale enough to make the dark circles beneath his eyes stand out sharply. Even standing appeared to require effort. The wind tugged at his clothes, and for a moment it seemed as though it might carry him away with it.

Beside him stood Koru, his expression unreadable as he studied the young man he had spent the last month watching get tormented. He felt pity for him more than anything. He had carried messages between Sagiri and Zifara, handled matters of state that could not wait, and watched helplessly as Sagiri endured agony that should have killed him. Now, seeing him upright again did little to ease his concerns.

"If someone wanted to kill you tonight," Koru said flatly, "I am convinced they could." Sagiri gave a weak snort that barely qualified as a laugh. Even that seemed to tire him. His breathing remained slow and measured, not out of calmness but necessity. Every breath cost him energy.

He looked less like the man who had forced the South to kneel and more like a corpse that had simply forgotten to lie down. Yet his crimson eyes remained unchanged. They still carried that stubborn refusal to yield. Koru noticed it and sighed.

"You should still be in bed; who cares about a celebration. They will be disappointed, but they will live." Koru said. People from all over Thazir had gathered, and the city was packed. Some now wanted to put a face to the man riding an ancient beast. This would determine if all the south accepted him and not just Thazir. Even more, he knew he had to travel to all the Azareen Capitals, too.

"I have a celebration to attend." Sagiri’s voice was hoarse.

"You have an execution to postpone," Koru corrected. "Your own."

"You are always so negative," Sagiri said silently. Even so, he knew the man was right. He was not like N’varu, who lied to him. For a moment, neither spoke. Below them, Thazir prepared to welcome its new ruler.

"I will protect you. But don’t overreact or do anything stupid. I have no patience for fools.

"You know I am the supreme chief, right, and the keeper," Sagiri said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Then you act like both, and we will be fine. You still need another month at least before you can even think of using your strength." Koru snapped.

"I know." Sagiri sighed. He knew what predicament he was in more than anyone.