The Gate Guardian Novels & Stories

We’re laughing when I catch the scent of cigarette smoke. I feel Clint tense up before we both turn and see him standing at the corner of the packhouse. My father. He tosses the cigarette to the ground and begins walking over to us. Clint steps in front of me and snarls. “You shouldn’t be here Aaron.” He ignores Clint and looks directly at me. “So, you’re a Guardian. How long have you known?” “Long enough.” I say. Clint has wrapped his arm behind him, pulling me into his back, blocking my father from me.

She lowered her voice and continued, "Recently, the faculty has been quietly investigating this, but there hasn't been solid evidence. Now that Lucy has suddenly disappeared, she might have run into real danger. "We need to find some clues before the police get involved." I nodded eagerly. As expected from an educated person, Elaine's thought process was on a different level from mine. Honestly, I had been a security guard my whole life. My head was always full of crude thoughts and nothing more than base instincts. It also explained why I couldn't read a situation as simple as this. Elaine added, "You've been keeping the main gate tight lately, so outsiders can't get in. That's probably why

But my desire for freedom screamed louder. I reached for the gate. My hand trembled slightly. Then I pushed. To my complete shock, it opened. Just like that. No security code. No guards. No one stopping me. The gate simply opened. I froze. Waiting. Listening. Nothing happened. The realization hit me slowly. Ethan hadn't locked me in. The gate wasn't there to keep people trapped. It was there to keep unwanted visitors out. The difference should have comforted me. Instead, it made me feel guilty. I pushed the thought away. This wasn't the time.

And she had no idea how she saw its structure from that quiet distance. “Welcome back, Alpha, Luna, Tracker Monta, and warriors,” said the guards in unison and quickly opened the massive gate. It's when Kaylon started making their way inside while the others followed them.

“Then act like one. Face me!” Silence. The trees behind me went still. Then a single low growl deep. From the earth itself. The guardian’s voice rang out again from nowhere and everywhere. “You’ve been marked.” “What?” “You passed.” “What does that mean? What did I pass?!” No answer. The gate pulsed once more. And then... closed. Slamming shut with a thunderous boom. “No!” I screamed as I ran to it, pounded my fists. “You don’t get to do that! You don’t get to watch me crawl and then turn away!”

he said quietly. A cold feeling settled in my chest. “Wrong about what?” He held my gaze. “About you.” The air grew heavier between us. I swallowed, forcing myself to stand my ground despite the way my instincts screamed at me to run. “Then maybe you should explain.” A pause. Then he stepped closer. Not threatening. But not safe either. “You’re not just the Guardian,” he said. My pulse quickened. “Then what am I?” For a moment, he said nothing.

“I just told you. She is the key to the gate. My uncle is the God of Poetry, but I don’t speak in riddles. It’s not a euphemism. Let her speak.” My eyes snap up to Ainsley as my mouth falls open. “P-Paragon, go ahead. You speak for us.” “Zion and Elysium are guardians of the gates of Mount Olympus. I’m part of the gate. The key, to be precise.” Paragon explains with her hands clasped in front of her. “The key?” Eva scrunches her eyebrows. “What does that mean?” Paragon tilts her head with an expression of annoyance. “As in the part that unlocks access to Mount Olympus. Aren’t keys used to lock gates anymore, Luna? I know they’re used for growling machines. It didn’t occur to me they would be

​Standing before the door was a Grave-Guardian. ​It was a ten-foot-tall construct woven from living vines and the bleached, white bones of Northern wolves. It didn't have a face, only a hollow ribcage where a flickering, silver flame burned. As the group approached, the Guardian’s "voice" echoed through the clearing, a distorted, haunting harmony that sounded like Rowena Thorne. ​“The shadow has come home,” the Guardian intoned, the silver flame flaring. “But the house does not know you. You are touched by the Void. You are stained by the South. The uncorrupted may not pass.”

"But the blood remembers. The power remembers. And now, you've awakened." I stared at the guardian. "Tell me what's behind the gate." He was quiet for a long moment, his voice heavy when he finally answered. "The gate does not hold a monster." I blinked. "Then what does it hold?" "A choice." The air left my lungs. "A choice?" "It will change your world forever." He looked at me intensely. "Only you and the three heirs can open it, and once it is opened, nothing will ever be the same."

When I looked up, the Gate had changed — the runes burned brighter, the air rippling with power. And standing in front of it was her. Not my mother. Not exactly. A figure shaped like her, woven from light and shadow, her features blurred but unmistakable. Her eyes glowed the same color as the Gate. Vale froze. “It’s not her,” he said under his breath. “It’s a guardian.” The figure spoke, her voice layered with echoes — like a thousand voices speaking through one. “Blood of the First. You trespass upon sacred ground.” I pushed myself up slowly, the wind whipping my hair across my face. “I’m not trespassing. I was called.”