Searching For A Guardian

Deep behind the waterfall at the northern edge of the city lies a secret cave that very few knew about. It had been a secret hiding place for truants, lovers and many child-like adventures over generations. It had also been a meeting base for selected members of the ESS to discuss plans and operations they felt no other member of the Elites needed to know about, especially those in authority.

On this particular day, Malk Reece stood alone in the cave, waiting for a meeting with another ex-Elite. The only person he truly trusted apart from his student, Greg.

Black smoke appeared in front of Malk and he stepped back, "What took you so long?" He asked.

"Is that anyway to speak to an old friend?" Replied Kelsic emerging from the smoke.

"I'm sorry, Kelsic, but you did say an hour ago," informed Malk, "What is this meeting for anyway? We barely have time for chit-chat these days."

Kelsic studied him, "Relax dear friend. The boy you've dedicated your life to is not in your care this weekend. I see no rush that you are in."

"I'm planning something for him. A move that will test his ultimate power and a probable near death experience. The battle isn't too far away for him now," Malk tensed.

Kelsic raised an eyebrow, "That's why I asked you here. I fear a terrifying battle may be closer than we think."

"How so?" Asked Malk curiously.

"A prophecy is opening, the darkness is coming."

"Does Crucillo know of this?"

"The Mayor knows enough to make the right choices. He plans on leaving the city, I just hope he gets far away enough in time."

"You think it will come so close to the city?" Asked Malk.

"I'm telling you we should be prepared for the worst. I do not think Sed will have time to leave, no one will," said Kelsic.

"You just said you hope he gets far enough away."

"And I hope he does. But there may already be an army heading this way. We will be trapped inside before his escort is ready."

"You seem a little too keen on saving the old man, yet you do not tell him all that you know," said Malk wonderingly. He was not surprised to hear the potential threat on the city.

"I admit my friendship with the Mayor has clouded my judgement over him. He however, has no real belief in the prophecies. Guiding him towards the protection of his people is all that can be done by myself."

"You still believe that ancient rubbish?" Asked Malk for the thousandth time in his life.

"Some have already started looking," said Kelsic seriously.

"For the Guardian? Who might they be then? Some fools in search of a false hope no doubt," responded Malk.

"Names are of no importance right now. What is important though is that you had better get that boy of yours ready."

"Greg is not old enough to be fighting any wars. You need to tell the Mayor everything concerning this. If such an army really is on the way then he needs to be prepared to send an army out to meet them, far away from the city."

"If the gates are breached, the orcs won't care how old any of its children are. Just prepare him for the worst as you like to do, help him to help the others," said Kelsic calmly.

"What about you Kelsic? Where will you be?" Asked Malk.

"Whatever his decision, I will be at the Mayor's side. Will you go out to meet them?" Kelsic knew she did not need to ask.

"I'm retired, just like you. My place is inside these walls, protecting the young."

Kelsic smiled, "Forty-six is hardly a retiring age."

Malk paused and decided to ignore the mocking, "In all of your long years old friend, I hope you are wrong about this."

"So do I dear, so do I," Kelsic evaporated into smoke, leaving Malk pondering the next move.

* * *

The Summer's River inn stood on the western side of the river. It was made of solid oak wood and had three storeys complete with twenty accommodating rooms, a brightly lit bar area, kitchen and lounge. The innkeeper, Erich, a usual jolly, friendly man was not in very high spirits. He had been down since the inn was being used to house a stranger kept under twenty-four hour surveillance. It was making not-so-good business into very bad business.

"Another red wine please, guv'nor," asked the stranger already feeling light-headed. Bolgama was the name he gave but Erich had his doubts. Bolgama laughed out loudly to a joke told by the stage comedian in the background. His long white hair was thrown back wildly as he nearly fell backwards, spilling half of the glass he held down his blood red jacket. He had a deep laugh, although his features appeared youthful. Erich could see experience in his eyes, it made it difficult to narrow down the age of the stranger.

Erich passed him another glass. Erich was a tall broad man with a large round belly. He was going bald, only patches of grey hair replacing black remained. He favoured a short moustache, which he trimmed regularly. Erich always wore a clean white apron over old fading clothes. He always had a thing for cleaning, "Shouldn't you keep an eye on your intake, young sir?" He asked politely.

Bolgama laughed again, "Young? Erich my good man, I've seen more winters than you will ever guess. Get off your high horse and drink with me."

"I would love to, sir. But I'm afraid there is work to be done. I can not stop to rest just now."

"Ok, if you won't perhaps one of your lovely maidens will," smiled Bolgama looking around.

"I'm afraid we are all swamped, sir."

"You are a good man, Erich. Very hardworking. I wouldn't ask to dance with a fair maiden of someone I hold respect for," said Bolgama drunkenly.

"Thank you, sir," replied Erich uneasily. He glanced at the empty tables behind the red-cloaked stranger trying to find any excuse to leave.

A guard appeared in the doorway to the lounge and signalled for the innkeeper to come over.

"I'll be right back," lied Erich as he walked away quickly, How much longer does this have to go on for?

"There are two young mages here to see our guest. Please show him to the lounge," the guard wore bright shining armour. Like most of Crucillo's guard, he wore a blue tunic over his chest with the cross pattern of Souvanence down the sides.

This is my bloody pub, thought Erich dryly, "Mr Bolgama, sir. You have visitors."

"More visitors? Ok Erich, send them in."

"I'm afraid not, sir. These visitors are minors. You'll have to meet with them in the lounge."

"Kids?" Bolgama was confused, "Why would children want to see me?" he stood up, glanced at Erich and walked into the lounge, I only have interest for one child and she isn't here, he thought as he got nearer the door.

Bolgama blinked as he entered the room. Two teenage boys stood facing the window. They looked about sixteen maybe seventeen. One was dressed all in black while the other wore what looked to be a casual school uniform. Bolgama sensed a strange essence coming from the boy in the school uniform, nothing he thought he would find interesting.

"What can I do for some kids that disturb my wine?" He said trying to sound boring, "Come to do a school report on the stranger from the South have you?"

The boys turned slowly, the one in black spoke, "Mr Jerusulcra?"

"That's me, not many use that name anymore," responded Bolgama.

"My name is Greg. This is my friend, Chad. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Pleasure's all mine," grinned Bolgama, "You look tired... Battle tired."

"We've been training for the Elites," replied Greg.

"Good luck with that," mused Bolgama, "So what's the report about?" He asked casually.

"We're not here for a school report," replied Chad.

"We are here to find out what you know about the prophecy," said Greg.

"Which one?" Mocked Bolgama.

"You know which one," Chad stepped in, "Tell us what you know."

"This one has a fiery temper. You won't get far in the Elites with that attitude."

"You have no idea," laughed Greg nervously.

"Indeed," replied Bolgama before turning to the guards, "Can we get something to kill this thirst please," one guard nodded and walked out of the room, leaving them alone with one other guard, "And some privacy for a bit perhaps."

The remaining guard watched them carefully, "Two minutes," he said and followed his comrade.

"These guards are very good, very dedicated," laughed Bolgama. Almost instantly his face went from smiles to seriousness as he turned to the two young mages again, "What do you kids want to know about the prophecy? It's no more than a mere tale for eager travellers like myself. Believe me, you don't want to get involved, it will begin to obsess your mind," Bolgama grimaced. He had not planned on sharing the prophecy with too many people just yet.

"An eager traveller doesn't try and break into a school for a mere tale," Greg pointed out.

"I wasn't trying to break into that school. Please, Greg was it? The defences of those gates wouldn't last five seconds against my power."

"Then what were you doing?" Asked Chad impatiently.

"I do not have to tell you, child," Bolgama raised his voice slightly then brought it back down again, "The guard will be back soon. I suggest you ask the question you came to have answered."

"Ok..." Greg shuffled his feet. Chad watched Bolgama with hatred, he did not like being spoken to like that.

"Who is the Guardian?" Greg watched Bolgama expectantly.

"I do not know," was the reply, "All I know is that a deep unsettling power has awakened within your school. The most convincing rumour I know of is that it's a young sorceress, descendant of Lord Scenrio himself."

Greg was disappointed. Bolgama gave no greater detail than Mr Petra did two days ago.

The guards reappeared, one carrying a pitcher of wine. Greg decided it was time to go and ushered Chad to leave.

"I'm sorry you didn't get the answer you wanted, future Elites," smiled Bolgama taking the pitcher.

Greg nodded and walked out. Chad glared at Bolgama once more before following.

"I may as well finish this in the bar," Bolgama told the guards. He was surprised to notice that the bar area was so full when he re-entered despite knowing it only had a few more occupants than before. The two kids were not there and Bolgama dismissed them from his mind as soon as he sat down at the bar with his pitcher.

Bolgama smiled to himself, he felt a slight shift in the world's pattern that very few mortals could feel. For a brief second, Earthelle spun quicker than usual, Ha-ha, the Guardian must be doing something unusual right now. The descendant really is here in this city, thought Bolgama, he threw silver coins down onto the bar, "Erich my good man, a pint of fine mead for all of your patrons. I'm in the mood for celebrations!" Shouted Bolgama merrily and a crowd of soldiers and citizens cheered him all at once.

* * *

Greg and Chad left the Summer's River inn and headed towards the river.

"That was a complete waste," complained Chad, "Maybe you should just give up on it. Even if there is a so-called Guardian, which I doubt, why are we making it our responsibility of finding him?"

"Or her," Greg corrected him, "I believe them. Out of all the strange things you've seen in your life. Why can't the prophecy be true?"

"I don't know, just seems a little over the top to me," said Chad quietly.

They walked alongside the river and sat on a wooden bench. Greg thought about the ESS while Chad watched people stroll along the winding footpaths. He spotted two girls walking towards them.

"Hey Greg, I think your ex is here," said Chad annoyed.

"You got to be kidding me," replied Greg looking up.

Lisa Drake and Tina Blackmore reached them quickly, too quickly for Greg's liking.

Lisa had very long blonde hair, blue eyes and a slim rounded face. Greg and Lisa dated for a short while, but her controlling nature encouraged him into bigger commitments with Malk.

Tina was not much different from Lisa; she had an upfront attitude, and was never afraid to say what she thought of someone. Her hair was a dark brown, almost black colour. Pale blue eyes and a stiff chin that allowed her posture to dare anyone to speak.

"Hello, Gregory," mused Lisa, "Why aren't you out training with milk today?"

"It's Malk," replied Greg dryly.

"Whatever," laughed Lisa.

"Can we help you with anything?" Asked Greg as politely as possible.

"Not really, we were just passing. I don't need you to take up my time," said Lisa. She started to walk again.

"Hi, Chad," said Tina quietly. Chad blinked, so did Lisa and Greg at the unexpected nice greeting.

"Hi," replied Chad. Lisa stomped away, clearly annoyed with her friend who followed without hesitation.

"Tina spoke to me," said Chad stunned, "Thought she was the president of the hate me club or something."

"That is unusual. Why did she do that?" Asked Greg puzzled.

"Maybe she's ill," replied Chad ignorantly, "What shall we do now then? It's getting dark and sitting around is kinda boring."

"Let's get home. We've had a packed day. The tournament went better than expected. We'll start planning the next one tomorrow. Could be the last one before leaving school."

Chad begged to differ; he had won every one up until today against Rogue. One short of a straight ten, "Ok then. I got some special rules I might like to add."

"If that's what it takes to get your crown back," laughed Greg.

Chad watched Lisa and Tina fade around the distant trees.

"Don't tell Kirsten what just happened," joked Greg.

"What do you mean?" Asked Chad.

"You know what I mean."

Chad blushed, "Me and Kirst are friends, we're not anything serious."

"If you say so," mocked Greg.

A lamp lit up beside them. The sun had almost set.

Chad and Greg left the bench and walked home. They passed the inn and looked through the windows as they did. Bolgama and Erich were laughing at what must have been a spoken joke. Bolgama was still drinking. The young mages were unaware that the joke was Erich letting slip to the stranger that a real fireboy lived and breathed among Scenrio's people.

* * *

Rogue and Kirsten sat opposite each other in Rogue's bedroom. A small table supporting a large bottle of potion sat undisturbed between them.

"Are you sure your parents aren't going to come back anytime soon?" Asked Kirsten nervously.

"I'm quite sure. They will be out for the whole evening. Why are you so nervous?" Replied Rogue.

"I have no idea what kind of side effects this potion will have on you," said Kirsten. She glanced around the room, half expecting someone to jump out at any moment.

"I'll be fine, Kirst. I can't remember the last time I have ever been ill. Besides you're looking at the new champion of Greg's silly little games," smiled Rogue.

"Well... Ok... I'm still not sure about this."

"Relax and do not worry. Why make a potion if you're just going to back out when it comes to using it?"

Kirsten was worried, more worried than she was any other time she made a potion for someone, "Ok, but this is only a test. Just have a small sip today."

"Just a sip, I promise," replied Rogue. She picked up the bottle and examined the light green substance, "Do you want me to do anything first? Like call on the wind or something?"

"No, I think it will be better to drink a bit first," Kirsten watched anxiously as Rogue unscrewed the lid and held the bottle up to her mouth. She took one sip then put the bottle back down again screwing the lid on tightly.

"How long?" Asked Rogue calmly.

"Not long. Try summoning a small breeze," replied Kirsten, still nervous.

Rogue clicked her fingers. The window opened and a soft breeze came through. She directed it around Kirsten's head then down her body. Kirsten could not see the wind as well as Rogue; it was the best way she could think of to show her she was controlling it.

"I think I can feel it," said Rogue excitedly.

"What's it feel like?" Asked Kirsten curiously.

"It feels wonderful. I can feel it in my blood. It feels like it's urging the magic to flow through my body, smoother and faster at the same time with bigger openings to release it into my power."

"Does it feel safe?"

Rogue spread her fingers; the breeze stopped dead, "It feels very good. You made an excellent potion, Kirsten," Rogue closed her eyes, and stretched her hands far out to the sides.

Kirsten heard the sound of a waterfall outside of the window. The trees in the garden shook vigorously, beating the glass like thunder.

The window threw itself open further and a strong gushing wind stormed through into the room. All of the furniture lifted off the ground then came crashing down again.

Rogue sat motionless in the middle of the room, eyes closed and arms still stretched out. She looked hypnotised. Her papers and worksheets lashed them from all sides; her unread books and ex-folded clothes were thrown against the walls like rocks.

Kirsten climbed to her feet and tried desperately to shake Rogue out of her trance. After too many failed attempts she turned to face the window. Closing it would be the best option for now she thought. Her hair fought itself as it whipped her face and slashed the air in every direction. Kirsten looked back; Rogue was barely visible behind the flying clothes and objects. She heard Rogue mutter something about awesome power and called out to her, "Rogue!"

Kirsten's shout went unanswered as she forced one foot in front of the other. The bed beside her shook, trying to lift itself into the air again. The splintered frame pushed towards her. Kirsten slipped and banged her knee against the post. She struggled to stand again against the force of the wind. Plush toys and loose t-shirts threw themselves at her as she reached the window. Kirsten had to use all of her strength to pull it down, it resisted greatly. Some of Rogue's possessions had already flown out onto the grass below. Her staff amazingly, remained by the still open window, stationary and upright, untouched by the power possessing the room. With one last effort the window closed and Rogue was instantly cut off from the power source.

Rogue opened her eyes when she realised it had stopped. She saw Kirsten slumped on the floor under the window, "Are you ok, Kirst," she ran over and grabbed her.

"Maybe we shouldn't use that in such a small place," said Kirsten forcing a laugh.

They both looked out of the window. The wind was blowing strongly, forming into a hurricane only feet away.

"I can still feel that potion," said Rogue. She put her hand to the glass and the hurricane responded by moving inches closer. Rogue held both hands to the glass and her spell finger started to glow. The hurricane broke into a smaller hurricane before becoming dangerous. Rogue used her finger to blow it towards the east and it did so willingly, dying down as it left her garden, "Wow, I've never been able to permanently change the direction of the wind before. This potion really is cool," smiled Rogue.

Kirsten smiled back and collapsed into a chair before tending to her knee, "That was unusually strong. I've never made one like that before," she said watching Rogue pick up her clothes off the bed and floor. Kirsten fell fast asleep from exhaustion from all of the day's events on the cushioned chair and fell into a pleasant dream about the tournament and Chad being crowned champion. Rogue left her friend to it as she began sorting through the books she intended to read someday.

* * *