Chapter 43: Guardian of the Chosen Ones
"Now they're trapped in this bird form. Apparently, the Shrouded One did something to them during their last encounter. I believe this is urgent enough for you. Please, save us! We're vulnerable to the Shrouded One at this moment, with the girls stuck as birds," Mrs. Clermont chimed in, her voice quivering with desperation.
At that very moment, a soft light began to glow from the walls of the crevice, growing stronger until the ancient carvings etched into the stone became vividly clear, as though the walls themselves had awakened.
Suddenly, a deep rumble echoed through the chamber.
The wall behind them creaked open with a slow, grinding sound, and a figure of a man emerged, bathed in pure white light. He appeared flustered, his robe slightly disheveled, his face lined with urgency and worry.
"Did I just hear you say birds? Like... the Chosen Ones are trapped in bird form?" he asked, disbelief heavy in his voice.
Before the families could even respond — or demand who he was — his eyes found the two birds perched silently on a stone ledge, watching him intently.
The man froze.
And then, without hesitation, he dropped to his knees and bowed low until his forehead touched the ground.
His voice rang out across the chamber, strong yet full of humility.
"Greetings, Guardians of the Chosen Ones. This humble servant did not know you were here and failed to present myself earlier. Forgive me," he said, his words laced with deep reverence.
Everyone present was stunned.
Guardians of the Chosen Ones?
The families exchanged bewildered glances. None of them had any idea what he meant.
Except for the old woman. She gasped softly, her wrinkled hands clutching her chest as realization struck.
She remembered the old legends whispered through generations — tales that spoke of a time when, if the Chosen Ones ever faced death, it would not be their predecessor queens who would save them.
Instead, the Guardians of the Chosen Ones would descend from their hidden posts, appearing in different forms — birds, snakes, beasts, or even winds — to intervene.
Most had dismissed the stories as myths, crafted to soothe the fears of those destined to carry a heavy burden. After all, the queens had never needed to be saved before.
But now, witnessing this scene unfold before her eyes, the old woman realized with a chill that the stories were true.
The others, seeing her reaction, turned to her for explanation, but she quickly shook her head and signaled with her eyes: not now.
As if reading the tension in the room, the kneeling figure lifted his head slightly and spoke.
"Aside from God Himself, there are Guardians chosen to protect the Chosen Ones. When danger threatens their very lives, it is not the queens who come, but the Guardians. That is their only task — to rescue them."
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle before continuing.
"And no — it wasn't the Shrouded One who turned the girls into birds," he clarified. "When they were moments away from death, they called out to their predecessors. That desperate cry awakened the Guardians. They came down in physical forms tailored for rescue — sometimes birds, snakes, wolves, winds, whatever form is needed."
A collective gasp rippled through the families.
So the birds perched quietly before them weren't cursed girls.
They were the Guardians themselves, protecting the girls' lives!
Each girl had her own Guardian.
The idea both awed and unsettled them.
Still, a heavy question hung in the air, unspoken until Mrs. Johnson voiced it, her tone cautious.
"So... since the Guardians came themselves... how do they get back? And how do the girls return to their human forms?"
The man, still kneeling, grew somber.
"It is possible for the Guardians to leave and the girls to return to human form," he said carefully. "However... there is a price."
He paused again, the silence deep and heavy.
"The birds — the Guardians — must remain here at the crevice for one full week without leaving. During that time, you all must return home and wait for them."
The families exchanged worried glances. Leaving their daughters here, alone for an entire week? It felt unbearable.
As if sensing their fears, the man continued.
"I am the Guardian of the Crevice. Since the girls will be staying here, their protection naturally falls to me. No harm will come to them while they are under my watch. You have my word."
His voice was firm, carrying an undeniable authority that comforted them — if only a little.
The families reluctantly nodded. The Guardian had kept the crevice hidden for years, protecting it from discovery, even from their own village. Surely, he could protect the girls for a week.
Yet... one thing still gnawed at their hearts.
The Guardian had mentioned a price — but what exactly was it?
No matter how many times they asked, he would not answer.
All he said, with a grim look in his eyes, was:
"All will be revealed in time."