Sentinel And Guide Novels & Stories

At its center stood a sentinel neither man nor beast. It was carved from obsidian, and it moved. "Halt," it boomed. "Name your purpose." Elizabeth stepped forward. “I seek the Codex of Fenhollow.” The sentinel’s hollow eyes turned gold. “Then pass… if you carry truth.” It raised a hand, and a pulse of light struck her chest. Pain bloomed like a thousand knives. She fell to one knee. Lucian snarled, shifting halfway. “Enough!” The sentinel ignored him. “Do you carry the burden of blood? The guilt of survival?”

The architecture shifted as she moved—arched stone, becoming glass, glass becoming a forest path, and forest melting into a hallway lined with doors that each had a name only their intended occupant would recognize. She wore the same practical coat and boots she’d woken up in, shadows flowing at her heels like a well‑behaved pet. She passed a wide, open chamber where another guide—a man with tired eyes and ink stains on his fingers—sat with a soul who kept looking over their shoulder as if expecting an audience. “There’s no one watching,” the guide said calmly. “Are you sure?” the soul asked. “Only if I’m doing my job right,” he said and smiled.

"He's the light that makes the shadows behave." In the deep space beyond the Boundary-Wall, Kael-now the Sentinel-saw the First Wolf waiting for him. But the Wolf wasn't alone. Standing in the darkness were thousands of other "Sentinels" from different successful Syntheses-beings of fire, water, and thought. They weren't an army. They were a Chorus. And they were turning their gaze toward a new, dark corner of the multiverse where a "Great Reset" was just beginning. Kael realized his task wasn't over. He had saved his Earth. Now, he had to teach the others how to Howl.

They were a flat, dead grey—the eyes of a Salt-Walker, but with a lucidity that was terrifying. “Kaelen,” the figure said, the voice sounding like a thousand years of grinding stones. “You have finally returned to the place where I broke you. Have you brought the girl? Have you brought the sacrifice for the Sisters?” “You’re dead,” Kaelen choked out. “I saw you fall. I saw the mountain take you.” “In the Wastelands, nothing stays dead, my son,” the figure said, stepping forward. “We only wait for the salt to give us a new shape. I am the Sentinel of the Gate. And to pass, you must pay the blood-toll of the Obsidian line.”

“Do not fight them directly. Guide the encounter. Let them make mistakes while you lead.” Aria nodded, allowing her body to relax even as her awareness sharpened. She felt the first sentinel’s momentum falter once again. She guided a subtle wave of energy through the roots, redirecting his balance without touching him. He fell slightly to the side, frustrated, and the other reinforcements hesitated, unsure how to proceed. The prime sentinel’s silver eyes narrowed as he realized the depth of what he faced. This was no longer a hunt. This was a demonstration of mastery.

Silver trees rose like pillars, and the ground shimmered with faint runes that pulsed in time with her heartbeat. The Theras sentinels appeared almost instantly, their masks gleaming, their spears crossed. The same stag-helmed figure who had greeted them once before stepped forward. “You return unbidden,” it said, voice cold and echoing. “After unleashing the thing our forebears buried.” Jayden dismounted slowly. “We didn’t unleash it. We’re trying to stop it.” The sentinel tilted its head. “And yet it walks in your shadow.” Its gaze turned to Aelin, and for the first time, she saw hesitation behind that mask. “The child bears its mark.”

Its eyes glowed faintly, reflecting something Ava couldn’t see. “What is it?” Silas asked. The wolf growled again and stepped back. A ripple passed along the wall ahead — a shimmer like heat over sand. Then a shape slid out of the stone itself, human-sized, grey and featureless, like a shadow given flesh. It had no eyes, no mouth, but it raised a hand as if to warn them back. Caleb swore under his breath. “What now?” Eron’s face went pale. “A sentinel,” he said. “Old magic. It guards the path to the heart.”

"Let's implement a system of magical sentinels-guardians that will alert us to any disturbances. We can also train in the art of stealth, learning to move quietly through the shadows. We must be prepared for any eventuality." Eden, who had been listening intently, chimed in, "I can help with the sentinels! I've been practicing my summoning spells. I think I can create something that will watch over our borders." His enthusiasm was infectious, and I felt a swell of pride at his determination. He was growing into a leader in his own right, and I couldn't help but believe that he would play a crucial role in our fight against the darkness.

I scrambled behind the curtains, pressing myself against the wall, hoping the thick fabric would hide me. The door creaked open. "I can hear your heartbeat," the sentinel said. "Just come out." I took a deep breath and stepped from behind the curtain, hand raised in surrender. "I apologize," I said, forcing a smile. The sentinel frowned. He was young, probably new to the pack business. His uniform still looked crisp and unworn. "You shouldn't be here, Lady Seraphina," he said, his tone firm despite the respectful title. "This area is sealed for investigation."

“I can spend short periods away from Mikan, but not that far. Not offworld.” “So sentinels really do have a lot of rules,” she said. “Actually, there’s only one: keep your royal alive,” Cain said simply. “But once you accept the position, something happens we call it the Sentinel Effect.” He tried to explain. “It’s this overwhelming instinct to protect. Even sitting here with you, part of my mind is tracking him where he is, what he’s doing, who’s guarding him. If plans change, I need to know immediately. Never surprise a sentinel when it comes to their royal. Bad things can happen.”