Prophecy Of The Guardian (Guardian Series Book 1)

by J. W. Baccaro

  “Aurora, please!” He held her hands, getting her to look him in the eye. “Calm yourself. Understand I am not the enemy. I’m your friend. Have I not shown you compassion?”

  “Well—yes, but why did you let them go? Why Darshun—why?” Her voice cracked as she spoke.

  Wiping the tears from her cheeks, Darshun made sure to answer in a soft, soothing tone. “For strategic reasons we spared them and not for mercy. Trust me, I hate Cullach, or as you put it, 'boarmen,' with a passion. My lady Aurora, believe me when I tell you that those I fight with are on the side of the Light. We despise the Dark and all of their cruelties. There is much going on that you are unaware of.”

  “There you go calling me your 'lady' again,” she teased, her tension beginning to ease.

  “Aye, I guess I did.” He smiled, caught off guard, then quickly spoke the next thought entering his mind. “This isn’t a safe place for a beautiful woman to be.”

  She looked at him with a sort of grin. “Beautiful woman? You’re quite the charmer, Darshun.”

  He lowered his eyes. “...Of course.”

  “I admit I do not understand what's happening. This is all too sudden.” She retrieved one of her hands he held and cupped his other hand, giving it a little squeeze, enough so he peered up at her, catching her gaze. “But you make a lot of good points, and have showed me kindness and hospitality. I might as well have died if not for you. A sweet man you are indeed.”

  “Thank you, though I am not simply a man. I’m Nasharin.”

  Her eyes widened and she recoiled her hand, almost in fear. “A—Nasharin?”

  “Mm-hmm, one of the last.”

  “There are more of you?”

  He nodded. “You appear unsettled.”

  “I’ve heard tales of Nasharins. Dark, horrific tales.”

  “There are bounteous myths of my people, stories carrying ill tongues. But I can assure you, no one could find a more peaceful race.”

  “I see that with my own eyes. That’s why there’s confusion within my heart.”

  “There’s no reason to be confused. What I say is truth.”

  “Does not the side you follow, the Light, also despise you?”

  “Ha, apparently you know a lot.”

  “My father kept his books. In one of them, I specifically remember reading how the Elves, highest race among the Light, most noble and spiritual, hated Nasharins.”

  He sighed. “They don’t understand us. Though, I’ve never known an Elf.”

  “And you are a warrior no doubt.”

  “Of course, a Nasharin’s training never ceases until death. I am ever learning.”

  “How intriguing—fascinating it is to be in the presence of you, Darshun Luthais.” She spoke his name well, smiling innocently at him.

  Darshun found himself caught—or was he trapped—in her gaze? He felt as if he couldn’t move, then realized he didn’t want to. Her beauty captivated him, and feelings he’d never experienced before flowed through his spirit.

  “Darshun—I must return to my home and see what has become of my people.”

  “It's a dangerous journey to that mountain. Creatures of the Dark are bound to be lurking.”

  “I must know the fate of my people!”

  “You said your father sent you away. He saved your life. Wouldn't going back delude that action?”

  “The boarmen are no longer around.”

  ‘Others may be.”

  “Listen, I don't want to argue. I’m going. I only ask for food and water. I promise to return the favor, even if it means coming back from the dead. My family is all I have. I must know their fate. For what if there are any alive, left for dead—suffering, hoping for a miracle as the birds pick at their flesh?”

  “So horrible a fate.”

  “Then you see? I must return.”

  I guess this means I’m not going after Olchemy, Darshun thought. Ah, probably just saved myself a scolding and lecture from the elders anyway. But at least this dreadful boredom will end, even though we’re walking into darker territory. “Food and water you may have, but I will return with you, my lady. First, I must tell my father. Perhaps, he and a few others will accompany us also.”

  She bowed courteously. “Thank you, Darshun Luthais.”

  They traveled to Mirabel’s post, an hour's walk, and Darshun explained everything to him, including Aurora’s request. Though Mirabel didn’t like the idea, the great distress across Aurora's face won him over; he understood perfectly well how it feels to lose loved ones, and perhaps, just perhaps, some of this dear woman's family still lived. In case of an attack, it was decided that a dozen soldiers, along with Mythaen, Mirabel, Seth, and Nayland, would accompany them. Captain Alaric and the rest of the men would stay behind, remaining in their places, overseeing the countryside.

  After Aurora bathed in a nearby spring and tossed on a set of extra clothes borrowed from a female soldier, the group departed and the journey to Mundoria Mountain began. It was a quiet journey with little talk.

  Even though Mirabel believed Aurora’s story, he kept close watch on her as she clung to Darshun’s side, often holding his hand, and Darshun welcoming the attention.

  They crossed many miles of open grasslands and a few lightly wooded forests, strangely having no signs of animals or streams; neither were there any creatures of the Dark. All seemed barren, like a lifeless void. The next day, after passing through another patch of lonely woods, they arrived at Mundoria Mountain, witnessing hundreds of vultures swarming to and fro of it, landing, circling or flying away with flesh in their beaks.

  Aurora covered her mouth, nearly vomiting. Darshun held her close.

  “Come, let us see if there are any survivors,” Mirabel prompted.

  They journeyed up its rocky paths and witnessed the aftermath of the battle: bodies of men, women and children, even some Cullach, lay scattered, broken and dead. Everywhere, homes were destroyed and the trees on this side of the mountain were black, charcoal, or burnt.

  What a battle this must have been, Darshun thought. How awful.

  Aurora stopped and knelt down beside some of them, gazing upon their corroding faces. Deeply she sighed, with tears rolling down her cheeks. She looked up to Darshun, fierce as fire. “And you let the boarmen responsible for this carnage go?”

  His stomach felt queasy, his spirit afraid at the glare she gave him—utter hatred. He wondered how long it would be before fire lashed from her eyes and turned him to ashes at her feet. “Forgive me, my lady, but as I told you it wasn’t out of compassion. There is a war coming, and we needed the Cullach to deliver a dire message to the King of Asgoth.”

  She stood up, a light wind blowing her hair. “Look around you, Darshun. War has already begun.”

  “I know that. What I meant to say is—well—”

  “Cease flustering your words!” she snapped, then turned her back on him and continued up the path.

  “Where are you going?”

  Without even turning around, Aurora shouted, “My father’s hut!”

  “We’ll come too.” He stormed after her...almost like a lost duckling. Without saying a word, the others followed.

  When they arrived, Aurora found the hut burned down and her father and mother lying beside it with arrows stuck in their chests. She rushed over and fell between them, weeping bitterly. Then she held her father in her lap—probably closer to him than her mother. “Oh Father, why did you send me away? I could have fought and died along side you and our people. There is nothing left for me now…Nothing.”

  “I am so sorry, Aurora,” Darshun offered.

  “Can we not give the red crystal of Kieran a try?”

  “It won't work,” he answered, scarcely breathing. For he knew her already heated temper would only grow worse.

  “You’re completely sure, beyond the shadow of doubt, that the presence of my god doesn't dwell within it and could not restore my people’s life? At least the life of my parents?”

  “I
wish it could—with all my heart, I wish that, Aurora. But it cannot.”

  “Right. Just a myth my people ‘conjured up’."

  He rested a hand over her shoulder, hoping to relax her.

  Ferociously, she threw it off, rose to her feet and pushed him back. “Leave me be!” she stomped farther up the mountain, heading for the sheltering trees.

  Darshun attempted to follow 'till Seth pulled him back. “Give her some space lad.”

  Letting out a deep, long sigh, he whimpered, “So be it.”

  Mirabel stood on a ledge gazing out at the plains.

  Seth came and stood beside him. “Brother, what do you think?”

  “Besides another tribe of people brought into extinction by Asgoth, it is quiet. There’s not a creature of the Dark anywhere to be seen. I was sure Tanarokai would’ve sent scouts, patrols or possibly an army into these parts by now. Yet, not a single thing stirs.” The wind howled and blew past, carrying the stench of death. “Come, let us bury the dead while there’s still time. But we must keep our eyes at watch. Sometimes—it is quietest before a storm.”

  ~~***~~

  A couple of hours passed and they were nearly finished burying the dead, save only a few.

  Aurora returned while they dug graves for her father and mother and helped place their bodies in the shallow holes then cover them with dirt along with loose stone. Then she took two wild roses she’d found and set them on the graves. All was done. With a weak smile she approached Darshun, who’d wandered off behind a large mass of rocks to ‘excuse’ himself for nature’s call.

  His eyes nearly popped out of his sockets and his mouth dropped when he saw her, and he quickly pulled up his dark blue breeches, following a heavy blush.

  For a moment the lady’s smile widened.

  “Apologies, I could no longer hold it—”

  “You should finish, so it doesn’t burn.”

  Doesn’t burn? Oh, how embarrassing. “I have.” Though, even if it wasn’t true there was no way he would finish in front of Aurora—especially with her gaze locked onto him as if he were a specimen for experimentation.

  Stepping a little closer, Aurora knelt before him, head lowered.

  Darshun felt stunned; again caught off guard and unsure what to say. “Umm, Aurora?”

  “Please forgive my earlier rudeness,” she began. “I needed some time alone to think. This is what I gathered: you saved me from starvation, from thirst. You escorted me back to my people. Though none have survived, and you knew them not, you helped bury them all—one by one. I am grateful for this.” She lifted her face, meeting his eyes. “A kind heart you have indeed. I give you my greatest thanks and deepest apology.”

  “Please stand, my lady. There is nothing to forgive. Your feelings were natural, human. And you should always speak how you feel.”

  “Oh Darshun, there is nothing left for me here. I don’t know what to do!”

  “If you so desire, you can live among us. I’d—I mean…we would be happy to have you.”

  Catching the little remark, she pretended not to hear it. “I don’t see what else I can do. I suppose I could adapt.” She let out a high-pitched sigh, sifting her hands through her hair, the locks of strawberry-blonde shining in the sun. “Very well, I accept the offer, with more gratitude than you realize.” She wrapped her arms around him tightly, resting her head against his chest, and gave him a long hug.

  Inexplicably, Darshun felt a strange energy upon his back, like some kind of angered force watching him. He turned around sharply.

  Nayland stood upon the high peaks, staring with a blackened gaze. Clearly, this energy came from him, and he continued to stare a few more moments—with Darshun never shifting a glance—then stepped behind the rocks and disappeared.

  I do not trust the man, that...‘stranger,’ Darshun thought. What’s his quarrel with me? Did I wrong him in another life?

  “You seem upset,” Aurora queried. “Is everything all right?”

  “...It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

  Just then, Mythaen shouted out, “Zithelian scouts are coming!”

  By the tone of his voice, Darshun knew something more than the mundane was going on. “Come.” He took her by the hand and made his way back to the men.

  Mythaen was right. The scouts King Adeleric sent out a while back to search the region for danger were riding up the mountain with great speed and panic-driven faces. Slowing their pace as they approached, one of the scouts slid from his horse and stepped before Mirabel and Seth. “My lords, thank goodness I found you. Alaric of Loreladia told me you’d be here. I bring grave news. A massive army of Cullach and Barbarians from the west are marching this way.”

  “So, the King of Asgoth has an alliance with the Barbarians,” Mirabel noted, not seeming to look surprised. “How long before they reach this mountain?”

  “About two, two and a half days. Together there’s at least twenty thousand!”

  “Twenty thousand?” Darshun asked.

  “Aye. More than likely they’re coming to sack Zithel. We’ve already sent word to King Adeleric, and he says to wait here for his men. They’re on the move as we speak, accompanied by the King of Loreladia.”

  “King Loreus?” Mythaen pondered. “You scouts sure move quickly.”

  “They’ll be here a few hours past dawn.”

  “Why are they coming to us?” Darshun asked. “Shouldn’t we go back and protect the city?”

  “No,” Mirabel corrected him. “Adeleric was right to send them here; the enemy will be expecting us at Zithel. This mountain provides plenty of food and water and is the last natural resource until the city. Barbarians are the worst of Humans, and selfishly consume whatever goods their filthy hands come across. They will take refuge in Mundoria, and here we shall meet them. Strange though, Olchemy was convinced they wouldn’t attack Zithel. And very seldom is he wrong. Nonetheless, let us go and take rest down in the woods, and prepare for King Loreus’ arrival. Lady Aurora, these lands are not safe. You best return to Zithel. We’ll provide an escort for you.”

  “I beg that I may stay here for the night,” Aurora pleaded. “I’m very tired and weary. Too much has happened in such little time. Let me rest and I promise to leave in the morning?”

  “As you wish. But in the morning you will depart.”

  “Of course. Thank you, Mirabel.” She held Darshun’s hand tightly, looked up at the young Nasharin and smiled.

  CHAPTER TEN

  TEMPTATION

  After bathing themselves in the nearest river, washing the dirt and scent of the dead from their bodies, they ventured down the mountain and made camp in the woodland. Men started fires and reheated the food they’d brought at the beginning of the trip: salted poultry and pork, rice, green beans and bread; fresh coffee and tea was prepared also.

  Before dinner was served, Aurora left to change into some fresh clothes she’d taken from her hut, which fortunately remained intact. Upon her return, all eyes shifted to her, especially Darshun’s. She’d donned a reddish-brown and orange gown, tight to her hips which fell in folds at her feet. A long carnelian necklace adorned her neck, the stones polished to perfection, and two striking earrings of diamonds and rubies, the rubies hung within a diamond border. She slowly walked over to Darshun's area, the overwhelming scent of lilacs and roses following, her strawberry-blonde hair smoothly combed and capturing the firelight.

  She nearly pranced around the men, with all taking at least a slight interest—all except Nayland. For a moment, he cast a glare her way, and in response, she sent one back…twice as piercing.

  He turned his head and with a sort of victorious smile.

  She smugly seated herself beside Darshun.

  Nearly drooling and lost in a daze, he said nothing.

  “Are you all right?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “I’m fine. It’s just I have never...never—”

  “Dar’s never seen someone so beautiful,” Mythaen said, cracking a smirk.<
br />
  Darshun blushed and wanted to hit him.

  “Aww, thank you, Darshun.”

  Feeling too embarrassed, he didn’t say a word, only smiled ridiculously, like a child lost in dreamland. Not to mention his stomach was in knots, or at least, that’s what it felt like.

  “Boy you are beginning to stray,” Nayland growled.

  Darshun fixed his eyes on him, the expression on his face changing to anger. He sat directly across the fire while the dancing flames in between Darshun and Nayland seemed fitting for the moment. “What are you talking about, Nayland?”

  Glancing at Aurora and then back to him, he answered, “You know of what I speak.”

  “I know nothing of you! Only that your company has been an irritation from the start.”

  “You are a weak-minded fool who wanders aimlessly. It’s only a matter of time.”

  “Enough! I’ve had all I can take of your bitterness…stranger. You know me not, neither the thoughts I have. So, do me a favor and silence your trap. Or I may silence it for you.”

  “Fellows, fellows,” Mythaen intervened, “please, calm yourselves! Supper is almost ready. And I bet when Uncle Alaric arrives he will have brought those batches of ale he started in Zithel. Let us forget these troubles for now.”

  “I need not your food or your uncle's ale!” Nayland stood up, shifting his gaze to Darshun. “And I shall never forget.” He stormed off into the darkness.

  “Now where are you going?” Mythaen shouted, his voice echoing in the night. There came no response. “He loves doing that doesn’t he?”

  “Do not worry about him,” Mirabel commented. “He will return.” He understood Nayland’s comments to Darshun, for he indeed had been acting a little ‘aimless’ lately, with a wandering mind that began when Aurora came on the scene. Nevertheless, he too was beginning to lose trust in Nayland. Something was stirring in the stranger that hadn’t before, or didn’t show itself to such a degree before this. Something dark, disturbing...hidden. Whatever it was, it appeared Darshun was awakening it. From this point on, Mirabel would keep a close eye on him.