The Silent Guardian — Chapter 13, Part 3: The Anchor

This installment continues The Silent Guardian Series. Previous: Chapter 13, Part 2: Clara.

She describes a version of the nightmare that has haunted me for as long as I can remember: the towering stone figure that shatters and bleeds, the figures off to the side, and the wind whisking the boy away. I never understood what it meant, only that it filled me with a fear I couldn’t explain. Now, hearing the details from her lips, something shifts. How could I have lived my life without knowing I once had a family? Without knowing there was a life before the Renegades—before the abduction? The images in my dreams were buried memories. Because of this, I decide to give her one chance. I scribble in the notebook: Prove it.

Clara says, “I can. But before we do anything, we need to remove your anchor.”

I shrug, confusion knitting my brow. I have no idea what an anchor is.

Clara’s hand slips into her pocket before she folds her arms again. It’s subtle. Her eyes meet Xia’s for a fleeting moment, an exchange passing between them before Clara steps forward. “The anchor is a device that the Phylax implanted under your branding scar.”

Xia explains further, “The anchor regulates exotic energy buildup in your body. It is designed to limit how often you can time travel. It works by using Casimir Energy Regulation, constantly leaking away the exotic energy that time travel requires. It ensures that you never have enough stored up to travel freely. I bet the Phylax says it’s a biological limitation, but it’s artificial. The anchor acts as a pressure valve, releasing just enough energy that it takes three years for your body to build up enough to make another jump. Without the anchor, the energy buildup only takes a minute.”

The Phylax told us three years was a natural limitation. This anchor Clara and Xia speak of sounds torn from a work of fiction.

“We learned this from a man who helped us find you,” Xia says. “He knows more about time travel than anyone else we’ve met. He knows about the Phylax and this device. Without it, you’ll be able to jump like we do, whenever we want. You’ll have full control.”

The more she talks, the colder I become. It’s all too much—too fast, too convenient. Distrust is a shield that keeps me alive. I write, I don’t believe you.

I tear the page out of the notebook, shoving it toward her. Her features twist as she reads it.

Clara steps closer. “Adam, this is why they could track you in the desert, Sachu, and Samarkand. The anchor leaves an imprint every time you travel,” she explains. “A signature the Phylax can detect by the energy released when you jump. The anchor sends out a signal pinpointing your location in time and space. They always know where you are.”

My fingers instinctively brush against the scar. It could be true. There were moments when I felt watched. Sometimes, it was a shadow in my periphery. I told myself it was paranoia, just the natural tension of the job. Now, I’m not so sure.

“You’ll never be able to outrun the Phylax until it is removed.” Clara pauses. “By taking the anchor out, we can show you what actually happened.”

I do have questions about my past. Still, I shake my head firmly. I will not let this woman defile the Mark of the Phylax. For all I know, this is a setup. I scribble down a final message: I don’t believe you. I won’t let you carve into me. With that, I rise to leave them.

Xia has been watching me carefully. She steps between me and the door. “We’re not manipulating you, Adam,” she says. “We’re trying to free you.”

My hand slides toward my knife. Trust is a hard-won thing, and this is not how to earn it.

Xia sighs, turning to Clara. “I told you he wouldn’t accept the truth.”

Clara shrugs, a hint of resignation in her posture. “We prepared for that.”

Before I fully grasp the meaning of Clara’s words, they signal to each other. Clara reaches back into her pocket. She pulls out a small metallic disc and flings it at me, striking me square in the chest. It sticks there, adhering to my clothing. Clara pushes a button in her hand. Suddenly, my body seizes up. I remain conscious as I drop to the floor, unable to control any muscles. While I feel no pain, panic shoots through me. What the hell did she throw at me? I can’t even grit my teeth. I’m trapped in my own body.

Clara kneels beside me. “I’m so sorry, little brother. The stasis disc is temporary. You need the anchor out, and you need to watch.”

Damn it. There’s nothing I can do.

Xia kneels on my other side. She slides my tunic off enough to reveal the short-sleeved shirt underneath. She then rolls my sleeve up to my shoulder, exposing the Mark of the Phylax branded into my skin. Lastly, Xia tilts me so that I have to watch Clara. “This should help you understand,” she says softly.

Clara leans over me, fixed on the scar burned into my arm. From the same bag she entered with, she pulls out a scalpel. Without hesitation, she makes a precise incision over the scar. I feel the pressure but not the pain—a small consolation amid this utter violation.

It’s not as simple as she made it sound. She mutters something I cannot make out while her fingers probe inside my arm. She struggles to grasp whatever might be lodged within.

Every second that ticks by feels forever. I am powerless, and it terrifies me. A blurry memory surfaces: I am a child, strapped to a chair, unable to move. It produces an overwhelming sense of confusion.

Finally, Clara pulls something free. It jars me back to the present: a sliver of metal no larger than a fingernail clipping. She holds it up, letting me see the cursed object that had been buried beneath my skin.

“See?” Clara says in a tone that I imagine is often used between siblings. “I told you so.” She chuckles.

I don’t feel as humorous about it. I stare at the tiny piece of metal. Rage and disbelief churn inside me. Is Clara right about the Phylax? Has my life been a lie?

Continue with Chapter 14, Part 1: The Choice. New installments publish daily at 5:00 AM.

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