Guardian of the Sacred

Prologue 1: Apprentice and Rogue

Darkness descends upon the world of Orenda. It isn't a bad sort of darkness, merely the darkness of the night. The stars shine bright and the harvest moon gives off a coppery-colored light, illuminating the clearings of the Wakanda Forest. In this forest there is a rather large clearing. In this clearing there is a river. In this river there is a large, flat rock. On this rock there is a woman.

She is leaning back, braced upon her elbows, head tilted upward and a slight smile upon her lips. Her black hair falls in unruly curls straight down to brush the rock and her pale skin seems luminous. Muscles ripple slightly in her arms as she shifts and one dainty foot lifts elegantly in the air, straight up, a vision of pale, well-formed flesh. She is dressed in brown shorts and a dusky blue tank top, a silver necklace shimmering upon the smooth skin of her neck. Something black protrudes from behind her right hip.

Leaves rustle briefly in the silence and she springs up, feet flat on the rock, one hand on the black hilt of what seems to be a sword, eyes wide open. Her eyes are doe-like, a shimmering light green, and she narrows them in the darkness, relaxing fractionally. They dart around the clearing and, slowly, she steps down from the rock into the shallow and cold running waters. She dances around the rocks and onto the embankment, hand still on her sword hilt, and then bends down to the ground, placing her ear on it. She closes her eyes and listens for a moment before standing up and releasing her sword.

"Come out of the shadows, Crevan!" she says lowly, her voice reverberating across the clearing.

A tall man steps out and he chuckles darkly at the murderous look in her eyes. His tanned face is lined with stubble and dark eyes stare her down, thin lips quirking upwards to meet a slightly crooked nose. He wears stained and patched brown trousers, a peasant blouse, and a brown vest over it. His feet are bare as well.

"Crevan, you know the Superiors would kill me without a thought if they knew..."

"If they knew what?" he asks sarcastically. "That we're friends? That you've saved me and my soul from the Talons more times than I care to count? That you know more street fighting than all of them put together?"

"That we're friends," she says flatly. "I'm training, Crevan. I can't put it to risk and you know it. It's only what I've dreamed about for the past –"

"– twenty years, yes, I know, Kell."

His look is deep and sorrowful.

"Don't look at me that way, Crevan. It's for the best. The Family –"

"Don't. Just don't, Kellan." Crevan steps forward and cups her cheek in one hand, searching her sad gaze. "Good luck."

She watches him go in silence. Then, tilting her head down, she walks away, shoves her feet into a pair of brown boots, and walks off into the forest, a complete picture of desolation. The trees and shadows swallow her form and someone leaps out of the river, shaking green hair and watching her path with fiendish orange eyes. Sickly blue skin stands out from the grass as the sick, alcohol infested half-merman steps out and disappears in a flash of light, cackling.

Prologue 2: Introductions and Brick Walls

"Guardians, as you all know, are people from each village that are trained to protect the Royal Family. That is why you are here. To be educated, to be trained, and to be chosen. The Guardians form the Royal Army and each year, different Guardians are assigned to each Family member. There are one hundred trainees, one hundred chosen applicants, and only three to twenty-seven of you will be Chosen Ones. The rest of you will continue for another year and another until you either drop out or are Chosen."

Kellan Angelos pinched the bridge of her nose in the History classroom. The professor, Marvin Arcos, gave her a pointed look and she rolled her eyes from her position in the back. Kellan had become somewhat of an infamous novelty.

"I have known of only one chosen applicant that has persevered an almost ridiculously long amount of time to do this and has yet to gain her wings. She has been here for five years now – as you all know, the longest amount was three and a-half – and she is currently sitting at the back."

The classroom burst into mutters and they turned in their seats and craned their heads to look at her. Propping her feet up in the empty chair in front of her, she gave them a cheeky wave and grin while inside she fumed. So what if her wings hadn't come out yet? She would have thought that they Chose because of intelligence, honesty, and all the things a Guardian needs. Not by their wings!

"Well, it's not for lack of trying," she said dryly. "They say the same speech in every classroom every year and the same lectures and they use the same tests... no offense, Professor, but I could do your test with my eyes shut and one hand tied behind my back."

"I'm sure you could," Professor Marvin, one of the few real friends Kellan had, replied with equal dryness.

"The only thing that does change is all the training courses and those are the ones I actually look forward to. Sorry, Professor, but I could be giving this lecture."

"I know that as well. Now, if you're all finished ogling our sarcastic classmate, let's continue. Usually, Guardians who don't gain their wings at the end of their first year, unlike Miss Angelos, go and become Talons (police officers) or Spiders (spies). Can anyone tell me why these positions are held in less regard than Guardians?"

The boy next to her raised his hand. "Because they receive less pay?"

"Guardians don't receive any pay, dolt," Kellan growled from her seat. Marvin shot her a look and she lifted her hands in a form of surrender.

A girl sitting at the front went next. "Because they don't work for the Family?"

"Close, but not quite. Anyone else?"

A boy sitting next to one of the windows decided to try. "Because... they don't have wings?"

"No, afraid not. Talons and Spiders can have wings. Kellan?"

Kellan, the classroom encyclopedia (as she had come to call herself in her head), sighed before answering. "Because not only do they not serve the Family directly, they do not practice the same traits, characteristics, and habits as Guardians. For instance, Guardians practice honesty. Spiders do not and cannot. Guardians practice selflessness. Spiders do not and cannot. Guardians practice secrecy when asked to. Talons do not and cannot. And so on and so forth," she finished in a bored tone.

Marvin nodded. "Thank you, Kellan. Guardians are known for, besides the traits and habits you will be practicing here in The Academy, their wings. Colors depend on the event that sets them off, but the most common color is black, for obvious reasons."

"Oh my god, he changed a word," Kellan muttered under her breath, and the boy next to her shot her a look that clearly said 'shut up, Late Wing'. She wrinkled her nose at him and proceeded to cross her arms and scowl.

Kellan picked up her book, gripped the hilt of her sword briefly, and pivoted around to stride up the aisles and almost out of the classroom. Marvin stopped her, saying her name softly. She turned to look up into his dark eyes, obscured by spectacles, and he smiled thinly.

"It's getting ridiculous, Kellan. You probably know more than the professors do and could probably run the library on your own, seeing as how you've probably read everything there. Kellan, please try harder for your wings."

"Like I said before, it's not for lack of trying. I'm sorry if I don't lead a traumatic life."

Marvin frowned. "That's not what I meant and you know it."

"Marvin, I quite probably know more than all these twits put together. For the past five years, those that were not Chosen quit. Only three of us continued: me, Daniel, and Constance. In her third year, Constance went and became a Spider. Daniel left after his second and became a Talon. They're inter-network partners now and they keep telling me to join them, to reform the Triad. I can't, Marvin, don't you understand? I lost their friendship because this is what I've only been dreaming about since I was five and I'm not going to let a petty matter like late wings get in the way of my dream! Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to be late to Swordsmanship."

Marvin watched her stalk out and he fell into his chair, rubbing his temples. She was banging her head against a brick wall and, in time, she'd have to realize it.