“This snow is really getting on my nerves—it hasn’t stopped for days. It’s making my job so much harder. And winter hasn’t even started yet,” I muttered under my breath, standing almost knee-deep in snow.

I was on the slope of a mountain. Below lay a forest, almost hidden behind a veil of white mist due to the blizzard. Somewhere ahead was the peak, and there—a shelter for the night. But before I could reach the much-desired warmth, I had to step over the filth creature lying at my feet. Of course, it was dead and would freeze solid in just a few minutes.

“Where the hell do you things come from, adding to my workload? If only you didn’t harm this world, then you wouldn’t be my concern. But no, you have to devour someone, tear them apart, or do something even worse. There’ve been so many of you lately, and it bothers me,” I grumbled to myself as I trudged uphill, sinking into the snow. “And what is the Warden even doing? Looks like the old man’s really falling apart. I need to get over the pass quickly, or there’ll be trouble.”

As expected, after a couple of hours of grueling trekking through wind and snow, the outline of a house appeared. Nothing special—just an old black hut, but in this weather, it looked like a palace. Inside, before lying down to sleep by the roaring fireplace, I cleaned my armor and sword of blood. The weapon seemed huge for my height and build, but it didn’t hinder me from wielding it effortlessly. In my hands, it was practically weightless, each swing of this magnificent blade making the air hum. I ran a soft cloth along the silvery blade engraved with runes one last time and lovingly sheathed it. I admired the hilt: it wasn’t ornate, it was austere, befitting its owner, so densely covered in runes that it looked like one continuous design. At its center, where the hilt met the hand, was set a gem of such a deep blue that it seemed as if a stormy sea or a raging hurricane was trapped within. There wasn’t much time—by dawn, I needed to be in the city on the other side of the pass. I placed the sword beside me and fell asleep, turning my back to the fireplace.

The new morning brought no change in the weather—it seemed to have gotten even worse. I reached the base only by midday. At the city entrance, I was met by a man clutching some papers.

“Welcome, Keeper. Here are your letters, and we have two offenders. We didn’t know what to do with them, so we locked them in an empty building over there,” the man said, pointing somewhere to the left.

“Thank you,” I replied, taking the letters.

“I’ll show you the way. Let’s go quickly. The local Guard isn’t very strong; they won’t hold them for long.”

We hurried towards the direction the man had indicated earlier. Two guards stood at the door. He was right: they didn’t look like the Guard that had arrived with me. I was surprised they had managed to catch anyone at all. As soon as the door opened, a small creature, no taller than a ten-year-old child, darted out and dashed towards the forest. Its webbed feet moved surprisingly fast.

“Stop! Halt!” I shouted in all the languages I knew.

But of course, the creature didn’t listen and kept running faster and faster. “Great, now I’ll have to chase it,” I thought. I caught up to it in the forest. The snow was falling gently here, and it seemed like everything around had come to a standstill—just me and the offender. My sword severed its head in an instant, and it fell silently into the snow, spraying everything around with blood. The body ran a few more steps before its legs gave out, and it dropped heavily to the ground. I’m no executioner, and I’ve always hated this part of the job. Turning away, I headed back.

The second offender was chained at all limbs, lying motionless on the ground. I knew him: he’d been through many worlds, killed many there, and always managed to escape. What surprised me was how these weak guards managed to catch him. He was twice their size and far stronger.

“How did you do that?” I asked sincerely, looking from one guard to the other.

“We didn’t do anything special,” one of them said, lowering his head. “The neighbors of those people he slaughtered called us. They heard noises and summoned us.”

“There were four of them: a mother and three children,” the second added, swallowing hard.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” the first continued. “When we entered the house, there was blood everywhere, and this beast”—he glanced at the giant—“having gorged itself, was just sleeping among the mangled bodies.”

“I’m sorry for those people,” I said. “He did the same thing in other worlds too. This creature is called Zhiham. Don’t worry, he won’t hurt anyone else. Unchain his lower limbs. I want to take him away from the city. There’s no need for you to witness his execution.”

Of course, I wasn’t concerned about the guards’ “sensitive nature” and whether they could handle watching the death sentence being carried out; they’d seen plenty during their service. I was thinking about the questions I needed to ask Zhiham and didn’t want anyone hearing our conversation.

As soon as the shackles were removed, the giant named Zhiham stood up to his full height. It seemed like he filled the entire space. His blue skin, mottled with brown patches, stretched over his powerful muscles, showcasing the monster’s physical prowess. Covered in scars from head to toe, he was a terrifying sight, and the protruding reddish tusks from his mouth only made it worse.

“Keeper,” the monster bellowed, “so we meet again. Too bad I didn’t eat you last time when you came to MY world.”

“I’m not thrilled to see you either, Zhiham,” I sighed.

He tried to say something else, but I landed a blow across his grotesque face with my gauntleted hand. This monster had taken so many lives, and now, four more.

“Shut up and let’s go.”

With an unpleasant grin that sent shivers down my spine, this cruel creature started walking toward the forest where the decapitated body of the first offender lay.

Once we were far enough from the guards that they wouldn’t hear our conversation, Zhiham spoke again:

“I killed the people in that house slowly, savoring every moment. First, I cornered that wench with the kids, and then I ripped off her head with my bare hands, relishing the taste of blood and the fear in her little ones. You should have seen their eyes, Keeper,” the bloodthirsty monster continued, his chest swelling with pleasure. “They were trembling, crying, snot running down their faces… Ha-ha-ha.”

“Shut up! Shut up right now or you’ll regret it! How did you get into this world? Where did you find the breach?” I growled through clenched teeth, seething with rage.

“Oh, so you don’t know where the breach is?” Zhiham laughed even harder, his grin widening. “How naive you are if you think I’ll tell you. But you know… I do have something to say to you. Do you know how delicious children’s fingers crunch? I bit them off one by one, savoring their screams…”

I couldn’t take it anymore; it was clear that I wouldn’t get any useful information from him alive, and I simply couldn’t bear to listen to how he tormented those poor souls. I drew my sword and thrust it through the monster’s chest. Zhiham’s eyes rolled back, and a thin stream of blood mixed with saliva flowed from his mouth. For a moment, I thought he had died. But then the creature twitched, looked at me, and spat blood in my face, screaming with its foul breath:

“Here, your sword is powerless against me, Keeper! We are not in the Inner World! In the Outer Worlds, both your power and his are weaker.”

Zhiham began to jerk against his shackles, which looked like they might snap any moment under the immense strength radiating from him.

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“You’re not entirely correct, Zhiham. You’ve only seen me in the Inner World and your own. You don’t know the extent of my power, but I will show you something now.”

I quickly pulled the sword from my opponent’s chest and tossed it aside. The wound began to heal before my eyes. Removing my chainmail glove, I thrust my hand into the spot where the sword had just been, feeling for the still-beating heart, then yanked it out with a sickening squelch.

“You just boasted about how much you enjoy tearing your victims apart, well…,” I gasped, “now you’ll experience what it’s like to be ripped to shreds.”

The brain doesn’t die immediately; there are still 3 to 5 minutes left to show him what dismemberment looks like and how it feels. I tore Zhiham apart, allowing my anger to fill me to the brim, letting it spill out… allowing it to keep me from turning into the same kind of monster, from the burden of having to do this work.

After finishing the dismemberment of the long-dead criminal and exhausting myself, I fell to my knees, raised my head to the darkening sky, and screamed with all my might. Having expended the last of my rage, I picked myself up, raised my sword, and stumbled like a drunken man, covered in blood, back toward the city.

I am not an executioner; I cannot do this job. I was born to gather and pass on the knowledge of worlds… I am not an executioner, but this is also part of what I must do now. I am not an executioner… but beings like him must not breach the boundaries of peaceful worlds. I am not… I whispered to myself in a feverish daze.

In the Guard’s house, there is always a distant room that often remains empty. It’s a room for guests like me—those who are rare but must enter the building without drawing much attention. Once I had tidied myself and my armor and sword, I sat on the bed and opened the first letter. It was from the Ministry of this world. My worst fears were being confirmed. The time of the current Warden was practically over, and there was no new one yet. The Guard was holding the borders of the worlds with the last of their strength, and all reserves had already been mobilized. I was asked to hurry.

“If it were that easy, I would have hurried long ago,” I sighed aloud.

The second letter was from the Inner World. I set it aside for a calmer time; I needed to hurry now.

With the sunrise, I was back on my feet, my instincts guiding me north, further and further into the snowy wilderness. A day’s journey from the place where I had executed two criminals, I stumbled upon a solitary lumberjack's cabin. At first, it seemed abandoned, and I was ready to move on, but something within me resisted, urging me to stay. I had learned to trust my instincts, and they didn’t deceive me.

In the yard, there were signs of a struggle; everything was in disarray. At first, I thought some predator had come to the house and attacked the inhabitants, but the more I looked around, the more I was convinced that I knew this beast personally. When I discovered the dismembered bodies inside the house, I had no doubts left—Zhiham had passed this way. Surely, he had torn them apart, but I wanted to confirm this, so I began to inspect all the buildings.

At the far end of the barn, where there had likely once been livestock owned by the family, I thought I caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of my eye. It might have just been a mouse, but it was worth checking. Drawing my sword, I moved slowly in that direction. I was nearly knocked off my feet by a child, though it was hard to call this a child. Just skin and bones, the eyes and cheeks sunken from hunger, his already tattered clothes hung in rags. Yet, despite his starvation, the child remained quick, perhaps the fear of death drove him to fight with the last of his strength.

I tried to catch the boy, and he bit me hard on the wrist. Had I not been wearing gloves, he would have certainly drawn blood.

“Wait! I’m not your enemy. Don’t be afraid of me; I’m here to help,” I tried to reassure him as calmly as I could. “I know something terrible has happened to your family, and you’re scared, but I want to save you. Please, let me.”

I cornered the boy in the barn, and only then was I able to catch him. Since he was so frightened and wouldn’t listen to me, I had to tie him up—not too tightly, of course, but just enough that I wouldn’t have to chase him all over the place again. Exhausted, the child fell silent and began to look at me with pleading eyes. His eyes had a fox-like shape and a beautiful sapphire blue, as deep as the sea. Long eyelashes were completely white, like the morning snow in these cold and wild places. Those eyes seemed too mature for a child.

I needed to make sure my instincts were not leading me astray, and for that, I needed to take a better look at this little fox. So, I decided to make one more attempt to communicate.

“Hello,” I said with a smile. “I truly won’t do anything bad to you. Look, I brought you something to eat—it’s bread and meat. I’m going to untie you now, but please don’t try to run away; I’ll catch you again and tie you up even tighter. Do you understand me? If you do, nod your head.”

The little one barely nodded. As soon as I untied his legs, the rascal bit into my glove and tried to snatch the knife with his bound hands. Oh, those children—they’re always like this; I had never once managed to do everything smoothly on the first try. I had to go through this binding and talking ceremony two more times before I finally managed to reach an understanding. On the third try, I got lucky and appealed to this little person’s hungry stomach. After all, hunger is stronger than the fear of being killed.

“Well, you see, I told you I wouldn’t do anything bad to you,” I said, biting off another piece of bread. “Do you have a name, child? What did your mom and dad call you?”

His attempts to escape had certainly stopped, but he didn’t add much to the conversation. That was fine; it didn’t matter at the moment.

“You’ve probably already seen what happened here and that your mom and dad are no longer with us. So, I suggest you come with me. No one will hurt you, you’ll have plenty of food, good clothes, and a clean bed,” I said, not fully understanding why I was persuading the child. If he was indeed the one I needed, he had no choice anyway. But I still had to confirm that.

Children who can become vessels for power always bear marks on their bodies. I had one too, until my predecessor passed on all his knowledge to me. The power of the Keeper helps its bearer find children with marks and teach them to wield powers, such as those of the Warden, the High Guardian, and the Moirae. All the knowledge of the worlds is contained within the Keeper; he is the only one who remembers and knows everything from the beginning of time.

“Here, put this on; your rags won’t keep you warm in this cold, and we have a long way to go.” Saying this, I tossed warm clothing in front of the child and waited, staring as he began to change.

The disapproving look he gave didn’t make me look away, and I received the confirmation I sought: he was undoubtedly a vessel. A cluster of moles formed the constellation Cassiopeia under his left shoulder blade. Now this child’s fate was sealed, I thought with a deep breath.

“Let’s try again. Maybe you’ll tell me your name, or shall I call you Child?”

“Tadeus,” said the boy, his teeth chattering from the cold.

“I won’t harm you, Tadeus,” I repeated for the umpteenth time. “Our paths are intertwined for a long time now; hurry up. We need to meet my old friend; he’s been waiting for us.”

Once Tadeus was ready to set off, we took one last look around the area for anything useful for our journey and headed further north. Tadeus walked silently, enduring the harshness of the journey in such terrible weather. It was clear the boy was not weak; he had been born in this harsh land and had learned to survive by all means.

After a day of travel, the blizzard seemed to reach its peak fury. Snow filled our clothes, blinding us, making it impossible to walk; every step was a struggle. The wind chased us like a pack of hungry wolves, howling alongside our path. We walked almost by touch. I led the way, trying to forge a path and shield little Tadeus from the wind as much as I could. At that moment, the wind began to die down, and a rock formation loomed ahead of us, jutting out several meters like a roof. Someone was standing beneath it.

“We’ve arrived,” I said, catching my breath. “We’re almost there, little one. Just a few more steps.”

I wrapped my arm around the child’s shoulder and gently nudged him toward the figure standing under the rock. The person there was a man so old that it seemed he had witnessed the creation of this world; his eyes were clouded with a white mist. He reached out to us with trembling hands.

“Hello, my friend,” I said, tears in my eyes. “You have done your job well, and now it is time for you to rest. Here is the new Warden; I have brought you a replacement. Thank you for everything.”

How many times had I witnessed the birth of the pillars of this world? Hundreds, thousands? Although the ritual was always the same, one could never grow accustomed to it. The old man approached the boy with an unsteady gait. Tadeus wanted to turn away and run, but I wouldn’t allow it. I held him firmly by the shoulders and softly repeated, “Look at him.”

When the old Warden was only a step away from Tadeus, he stumbled. Tadeus instinctively moved to support the old man, but as the Warden fell to the ground, he turned to ashes. The ashes rapidly disintegrated into dust, which rose in a cloud to the child’s face, entering his nose, mouth, eyes, and ears. At that moment, Tadeus jolted as if shocked, straightened, and tensed like a string, freezing in place without a single movement. I gently turned him to face me, crouching down so my eyes were level with Tadeus’s. I could see the golden dust swirling in his sapphire eyes and the fire burning within them. The new Warden had come to this world.

“The vessel is filled. Welcome, new Warden of the Borderlands. I greet you in this world; I am the Keeper, and I will guide you from ignorance to the light.”

The child showed no sign of hearing anything; in an instant, the dust in his eyes settled, the fire extinguished, and his entire body began to tremble slightly.

“Everything will be alright. I will take care of you. You need to rest, and then I will answer all your questions. I think you will want to know many things.”