Jasse felt that that was a little unscrupulous of the Council to hold her small number of personal friendships against her when it was partially their fault. Yes, Kathryn had been brought to the school and had sat through a number of classes with students. But those classes had been few and far between and swung from a level near mastery to basic control at the drop of a feather. Most of her time at the school had been spent in one-on-one sessions with instructors or Councilmembers themselves who had struggled to force the stubborn trainee to cultivate her powers. Jasse doubted that a fourth of the students who were ready to graduate would recognize her, let alone know her name and powers.
Not that he could ever reveal any of that to her. Jasse sensed now that Kathryn was becoming uncomfortable by his silence. She hated baring her soul to anyone and his silence made it worse. Quickly he changed subjects.
“You will be at the funeral tonight?”
A retired Guardian had recently died and his funeral was to be that night. Every student was invited to attend, but only after the importance of the ceremony and respect for his memory was stressed. Jasse knew Kathryn had formed a very deep reverence for the actively serving Guardians, those who had fought their whole lives and been relieved of their duties by a younger generation of Guardians, or by an adversary. It was rumored that there was once a time when the Guardians were powerful enough to serve for generations before retiring, but the strength of the gifts was significantly weaker now than it had once been, still making the Guardians more powerful than a knight, yet not nearly as powerful as many believed. Those who managed to live long enough to retire were granted places to live by the King and were provided for.
“Of course,” Kathryn replied.
Jasse smiled. “You sound very confident.”
Kathryn hesitated then said, “I have been asked to be a torch-bearer.”
“That is an honor indeed,” Jasse said, trying to hide his smile. He himself had suggested Kathryn when it became known that another torchbearer was needed.
“Yes, it is,” Kathryn agreed.
Jasse smiled inwardly. Kathryn was obviously trying to understand why she had been chosen for an honor that only serving Guardians usually claimed. He knew the reason; as of tonight Kathryn would be regarded as an active Guardian, not a trainee. He couldn’t wait until tomorrow afternoon when she would be told. To see the look on her face would be worth every trial she had put him through these last six years.
“Are you ready yet?”
David looked over at Luke who was fully dressed and had been for the last fifteen minutes. “I’m almost done. Remember, patience is a virtue.”
“So is time management,” Luke returned quickly.
David grinned. “I’ll have to remember that.” He turned towards his roommate. “Okay, I’m done.”
“Then let’s go.” Luke practically ran out of the room.
Together the two made their way down to the central courtyard where many had already gathered. Like Luke and David, those present were dressed in the black formal trainee uniform, indicating the somber mood of the event to come. Up ahead was a huge wooden pyre that the deceased Guardian would be placed on while four Guardians set fire to the wood beneath him. Once the entire structure was gone and the ground cold, a tree would be planted on the very spot where the pyre had stood, a testimony to the Guardian’s lifelong dedication to his duty.
The ceremony would begin in less than fifteen minutes and the two boys hurried to find a good seat.
Just after the sun set the body was brought out and put upon the pyre. Four torchbearers followed the body and each took up a position on each corner of the pyre.
As the torchbearers waited for the eulogy to end David noticed one in particular. She was standing close to him. Her black hair pulled back into a loose bun, her blue eyes expressionless except for one: reverence. She also looked young, very young; younger than his seventeen years. He had thought he had met every active Guardian. Obviously he had been wrong.
An eagle called from somewhere nearby and David found it strange that one should be out this late. As it was he could have sworn the torchbearer flinched when the cry was uttered.
Finally the eulogy ended and the four torch bearers stepped forward and ignited the pyre. As the body was engulfed in fire, David wondered if he would ever become a full Guardian. He was seventeen and had yet to be placed in a family. Did this mean he hadn’t been chosen? Those trained by the Guardians but not chosen for Guardian service usually ended up working as royal protectors. He didn’t want to end up as a bodyguard for royalty— he wanted to be a Guardian. With every fiber of his being he wanted to be a Guardian.
After the body was consumed there was a small reception, David’s thoughts turned back to the young torch bearer and he looked around, but she had disappeared. That night, as he lay in his bed, his thoughts turned to his destiny. David didn’t think he could go through life not being chosen as a Guardian, but it was not his decision. His tortured thoughts kept him awake much longer than usual and his dreams, restless.
Early the next morning David was summoned to appear before the Guardian Council.
“You’d think they’d pick a better time,” Luke grumbled as David stumbled around in the dark getting dressed.
David had to agree with his friend on this one. Daybreak was not normal rising time—for anybody. However the Council had called and h
e
mus
t
answer. As he made his way to the council room, David couldn’t stop the aerial gymnastics his stomach was currently participating in. There were only four reasons a trainee was summoned to the council room, punishment, promotion, expulsion, or family emergencies.
The last time David had been summoned before the Council was when his grandfather had died. He had been released from training for one week for the funeral and to spend time with his family.
Now, as he walked down the halls, David couldn’t help but wonder if someone else in his family had died. Several couriers had arrived late in the evening the night before. Perhaps one had brought bad news. At last he reached the doors to the council room. An elderly woman asked his name, and then disappeared into the room. For several tense moments David was left alone before she came back out.
“They are expecting you,” she said as she waved him in.
The council room was a circle inscribed inside another circle. Between the outer edge of the first and second circles, fourteen stone chairs sat on a slightly raised platform. Inside the inner circle was an etching of the kingdom. Each of the six realms were subdivided into the regions patrolled by Guardians. The fourteen chairs were occupied by fourteen Guardians who had been chosen by the Council before them.
“Welcome David,” Lord Mora greeted him. Lord Jasse also issued a welcome to the now alert teenager.
“My Lords.” David gave a bow of acknowledgement to the Council, keeping his eye on Lord Mora and Lord Jasse. Of all the Council members Lord Jasse was friendliest with the trainees and the least intimidating. His face was not sorrowful or carefully controlled, which made it unlikely that David was about to receive condolences.
“Have you any idea why you have been called here David?” Lord Lyrion asked.
David shook his head. “No, sir, I do not.”
Lyrion smiled. “Then let us tell you.”
Lady Teresë, one of the oldest councilmembers, spoke up. “David, you are being appointed to Guardian status.”
David looked at the Council in complete surprise. This was not a possibility he had entertained and the knowledge that he would not end up as a palace guard brought unspeakable joy. But just as quickly that joy was replaced with doubt. “I am honored, but I do not feel ready,” he protested quietly.
Lord Jasse looked at him. “It is for that reason you are.”
“There is another reason you have been called,” Lord Geral, the head of the Council said gravely.
David looked at the Council member, forcing himself to wait patiently for their explanation. What other reason was there for him to be here? They’d already told him he was one of the Chosen, what else could there be? Lord Geral’s tone of voice suggested that the news wasn’t good.
Lord Jasse spoke up. “You have been chosen to be a leader.”
David couldn’t believe his ears. “A leader sir?” he asked, trying to make sure he heard right.
Jasse smiled at him. “Yes, David, a family leader.”
David couldn’t think of anything to say, in the whole history of his family none had ever been awarded this placement. “I am honored,” he finally managed.
The Council members nodded at him and Lord Jasse continued. “Your family is being assembled as we speak. You are to return at midday to meet them and be assigned your region.”
“Yes, my Lord,” David replied.
“We expect,” another Council member spoke up, “that you know the responsibilities of a leader.”
“Yes Council Member,” David replied.
“And that you know if you disregard these responsibilities you will be expelled from the Guardians.”
“Yes Milady.”
Lord Jasse spoke up again. “We have faith in your abilities David, we would not have chosen you otherwise.”
“Thank you sir.” David’s replies were starting to feel automatic now.
“You are dismissed. Return to us at midday.” Lord Mora waved his hand and David left the room.
His world spinning, David tried to process everything that had just happened.
A Guardian!
A Family Leader
!
He couldn’t even fathom the honor he had been given. Being made full Guardian was the equivalent a commoner being raised to nobility and being made a leader was comparable of a commoner being declared king. He sobered slightly, knowing full well the chances of him falling to an adversary’s blade in the next few years were high. Extremely high. A family rarely served more than twenty years and by the end of those twenty years only about a third of those originally assigned to his family would still be living. Those who survived became instructors at the school or entered into the King’s service as an elite warrior. Lately the Council had simply added new members to a family to replace ones that fell in the line of duty, but that was a relatively new course of action. Historically they had simply retired the surviving members and assigned a new family to replace them.
He leaned against a wall and tried to imagine his family’s reaction—if he could ever tell them. His father and mother would be proud of him. His sisters would probably dance around the room, but what about his brothers?
His second brother was already a Guardian, and had already served for eight years, but wasn’t a leader, he wasn’t even second in command of his family. Would there be jealousy between the two of them? David prayed there wouldn’t be. He loved his brother dearly, but would he understand? His oldest brother would understand his responsibility, and very possibly, be proud of him.
Deciding he needed some air, David left the compound and ran. Often it seemed that running was the only thing that calmed him and today he needed to remain calm. He could not afford to be anxious when he returned to the Council to meet his family. Passing trees and boulders he made his way to the top of one of the various cliffs surrounding the school. Turning he ran alongside the edge for several kilometers. As he ran the reality of the honor he had been granted set in.
As a family leader he was ultimately responsible for everything the rest of his family accomplished, or failed in. While he would listen and take advice from his family, he would ultimately be responsible to make the hard decisions. He would be responsible for sending his new family members to face the unknown every day, to face death, and have to live with whatever result played out. His decisions would govern their duty to serve and to some extent their everyday lives.
Trees and shrubs flew by as he increased his speed, pushing himself to the limits of his endurance. His lungs began to ache as his thoughts raced his feet. As a leader he was responsible to ensure the basic needs of his family; that they were adequately equipped and trained to face the enemy, and ultimately to keep them in line—to prevent radical forms of justice from being executed. If the Council felt that his family needed to be disciplined or brought back in line, while the others in his family would share in some of the punishment, he would take the brunt of it. He was their leader, their protector, and peacekeeper in the family.
Suddenly he was sure beyond all doubt that he wasn’t ready for this. How could he keep fourteen very powerful and sometimes headstrong teenagers, most of them complete strangers to each other, from antagonizing each other, or worse yet squabbling, while learning to live together? Even worse, how could he manage to keep exclusionary circles from forming? He’d heard stories of families where the members had not managed to learn to live together and the Council had been forced to intervene
.
That
was a situation he wanted to avoid like the deadly Vespine fever. His lungs and legs began to burn as he turned further up the cliff.
His second-in-command would be responsible to keep the family dynamics stable. Even if someone in their family was hesitant to bring a problem to him, they most likely wouldn’t have any compunction about bringing it to the second-in-command. He knew, that as the family settled into their new lives, they would choose someone to be their representative to him and act as his lieutenant. David could only hope that he and the family’s chosen second-in-command could learn to respect each other and value each other’s opinions.
The amount of responsibility he was about to take on was so staggering to David’s mind that he actually stumbled in his stride. As he corrected himself, he reminded himself that while it was okay to show some nervousness at the job of becoming a leader, David could not allow it to interfere with the first impression he made to his family—an impression he was determined to make a good one. His lungs and legs felt like they were on fire and yet he pushed himself harder for a few more strides.
Finally, completely out of breath, he collapsed onto the damp grass.
He lay there for several minutes, listening to the blood pounding in his ears, oblivious to every other sound but his own heartbeat.
The cry of an eagle was the first thing he became aware of. Sitting up he tried to locate the bird. Eagles were the emblem of the kingdom and were therefore protected by law from hunting. This one had sounded close.
There it was again. David stood up and peered into the dim light of early morning. There wasn’t an eagle in sight.
Another call.
“Ouch!”
David stopped, that had been a woman’s voice, yet he didn’t see anyone around.
The eagle called again, and again, and again. “Ouch! Oh, call again.” The feminine voice sounded agitated. It also sounded like it was coming from the cliffs.
Slowly David moved towards the edge and peered down. There, three meters below his boots, were an eagle and a young woman. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The woman was free climbing and the eagle, to David’s complete astonishment, was guiding her.
David opened his mouth to call down to her, but then thought better of it. He didn’t want to startle her and cause her to fall. Instead he sat down on the grass and waited for her to appear.
As the top arc of the sun crested over the ocean horizon a hand appeared over the edge, then another. The woman pulled herself up onto her elbows and waited. David was shocked to notice she was blindfolded, not to mention she was much younger than he had originally thought. He also noticed the emblem on her tunic—she was a Guardian trainee.
Finally the girl pulled herself up completely and sat down on the grass, the eagle hopped alongside her.
Finally David deemed it safe to talk. “That was a pretty impressive stunt you just pulled.”
Hearing his voice, the girl jumped to her feet, ripped off the blindfold, and stared at him. He realized he probably should have waited for her to take the blindfold off before speaking to her. She regarded him warily, giving him the impression of a startled deer, frozen but ready to flee at the earliest opportunity.
“I’m sorry if I startled you,” he said, rising quickly. “It’s just that I’ve never seen something like that.” While brushing the loose grass off of his trousers he attempted to reach out to her with a friendly smile.
She still didn’t speak and as David studied her recognition dawned. She was the torchbearer from last night. Surprised he stared at her for a few moments, then realizing she was getting even more uncomfortable asked, “Weren’t you a torchbearer at the funeral last night?”
She looked at him long and hard before slowly nodding.
David tried again. “Your friend here is amazing,” he said gesturing towards the eagle now perched on her shoulder and who was eyeing him with the same distrust as her human friend. “How long did it take to teach him how to do that?”
“She.”
Finally, progres
s
, David thought as she uttered the tense word. “I’m sorry?”
“Her name is Destiny.”
“Sorry.”
She just nodded tersely.
“Is she friendly?” David asked, trying to make conversation.
The girl nodded. “Most of the time.”
“Can I pet her?”
“If she lets you, you can pet her.” She turned to the bird on her shoulder and nodded towards David.
To David’s surprise, and apparently the girl’s, Destiny let out a loud screech and then flew away.
“I’ll take that as a no,” David commented dryly as they both watched the bird fly to a large evergreen tree and land.
The girl didn’t comment, but glanced several times between him and where her feathered companion now perched, a ruminating look on her face. He had a feeling that Destiny’s opinion mattered highly to her human friend.
David studied her. She was very small and slender; he doubted her head would reach his shoulders if they stood side by side, but like all Guardian trainees was in excellent physical condition—her free climbing skills attested to that. Her black hair was pulled back into the same bun she had worn the night before but it was her eyes that captured his attention, or rather, the experience in her eyes. She noticed his scrutiny and her eyes narrowed, icing over like a pond in a deep freeze.