The Last of the Guardians: Insurrection

by J Silverado

  – You are absolutely right, fishmonger master – Galaniel contemporizes. – Each with his gift, there is neither better nor worse, just a strong current to meet the needs of society, where each link must fulfill its role.

  – Yeah... That's what you spoke – Moahn agrees, not understanding half of what his companion said.

  When they finish packing the fishmonger and leave it ready for the storm, the rain was falling hard. – Come on, fishmonger, or the streets will be too muddy to walk – Galaniel speeds.

  Moahn goes ahead with a treated leather blanket, suitable for those conditions, followed by the guardian, using the own shield as protection from the rain and taking, under the arm, a flitch for family dinner.

  Rushed, they passed through the alley of the seamstresses, crossing the street of the great sacred temple, reaching the street of fishmonger's house. The house was closed and Moahn knocks on the door shouting: – open the door, woman, the world is falling out here! Walk! – Then the door opens, but it’s Melina who is on the other side. – My mother is taking care of dinner, claiming that you have not brought the fish.

  Galaniel delivers the package, protected, until then, from the rain, to the girl, rushing to take it to the kitchen.

  – Until, finally, Moahn! Sold you the whole fishmonger? – Corinta speaks aloud, with a boring voice from the kitchen.

  – We were preparing things for the rain, woman. Do you not see that it will be one of those?! – Replies Moahn, looking worried by the glass of the window

  – I hope it's just rain. – The guardian concludes it, looking worried by the window. They both went to the rooms to prepare for dinner.

  The meal occurs without the worries that, recently, afflicted them. Melina was inspired and played making sounds with the fish bone, accompanied by Moahn, with his old banjo and Galaniel pounding the table, making the percussion. Corinta clapped a little out of tune, but no one cared. After all, everyone was having fun.

  The next day dawns ugly, cloudy, as he refused to appear. Corinta poorly served breakfast for Moahn and Galaniel when Melina came out of his room into the living room and stood by the window, looking out, with a look of astonishment, saying – Mommy, Mommy, the sun is red!

  A broken glass noise is heard while Corinta drops the jar of water she carried. The guardian seriously look at Moahn and rose says: – work alone today, fishmonger. I should go to the board. – Pale, Moahn nods while Melina, afraid, come running to embrace her mother.

  – Mom, what happened? Why are you nervous? – We must all participate in the call – Corinta responds afflicted.

  – What is it, Mom? – The daughter questions, getting distressed.

  – At next I explain it to you my daughter, it will be all right, calm down.

  Galaniel returns to his room, removes the shabby clothes with working in fishmonger, opens his campaign chest and puts his mail, chest, belt, sword, shield and part to the center of the Citadel.

  In the streets, the commotion had begun, women and children were crying, men hurrying, trying not to stay long in the streets. It was always so. Every reddish sun, everyone knew the meaning.

  Galaniel just bended the corner of the Hundred Steps Street and entered the Advisor Forward Altarion Street, the main street of Kolpor, rising along the plateau, entering the Citadel, in whose center is the great holy temple.

  An imposing building, it has a quadrilateral structure, where every corner has the symbol of one of the varieties, carved in marble, with the symbolic representations in onyx.

  The walls, finely crafted, adorned with various sigils protection and power, preventing from the demons’ entering or able to damage it. It was the first building to be completed at the Citadel, and its protection was key during construction of the rest of the Citadel and in later battles.

  To reach the temple, after climbing long flights of stairs, Galaniel faces main gates, guarded by four sentries, one of each variety, or so it should be. The guardian stops places his left knee on the floor, positions his shield in front of the body, resting it on the floor and gives the old warrior oath:

  "I am the tip of the sword,

  The magic that transcends

  The repairing aura,

  The shield that defends.

  Beware, oh infernal horde,

  When a warrior meet.

  Will fight to the end,

  To evil repel".

  - You know that no one else to do it, right? – One of guards mocks, laughing with others. The group was young, two Forwards, of which one woman was a Mentale and other a Bionte. – I still prefer the old ways – the Guardian answers hard – and respect to a superior officer is still required. Standing at attention, watchmen! – He complements in a command voice.

  The group, taken by surprise, immediately follows Galaniel, getting all properties in training, looking at the horizon. - You'd better not move until I exit the temple, or you will be sent to the southern borders, to learn to behave and appreciate how lucky you are. – With a slight smile on the mouth corner, the guardian ends the lesson on watchmen, opens one of the gates and enters.

  Upon entering the main hall, walking toward the stairs that are to the right, up to the third floor, where is the high council room. Guarding the entrance, was Codaino, a known Mentale of Galaniel since the days of basic training. – Well, well. Who is alive... always appears! – The Mentale exclaims smiling, seeing the guardian. – How have you been Cod, still protecting our small group? – Galaniel responds amiably, greeting the old acquaintance. – I have nothing to complain about, Gala. It's been pretty uneventful since its output, but it seems that today things will heat up, after all, the sun is red, and you are here - Codaino continues. – Yes, I'm here for this reason. Are the directors meeting? I want to talk to them – the guardian asks. – Gala, you should no longer part of the board, you know I cannot let you in... – He says, placing himself at the front door, already a little apprehensive. – Cod, I come in peace and do not want to hurt you, you know that is no match for me, from the time of crossroads... Why do you not drink a glass of water and I go just to talk. – Er... Give me your word that you will just talk? – The sentry questions, now visibly worried. – Yes, you have my word that I will talk only, Galaniel answers, seriously looking into the eyes of Codaino. Nothing more is said, the guard walks away toward the source and the guardian enters the high council room.

  The room was still the same as he remembered. The rectangular marble table with nine seats, four on each side, each pair with the symbol of a caste and one in the tip, with the most high-backed and Potar’s symbol. Despite representations from the end of the war no one sat in Potar’s chair and the board's division was no longer that. He was the last Guardian to join the board outside it, and it were past a few years he had left.

  The current board, in the room, consisted of three forwards: Oltigar, Endiron and Alanak; three mentales: Terpolis, Waduin and Fyonir and two biota: Kellari and Ultara. The leader of the council due to intrigues and political power, was the forward Oltigar, Altarion’s grandson who, seeing Galaniel in, got to his feet immediately questioning: - who allowed you entry here, guardian? You no longer part of this council. Guards! –Galaniel extends his right hand with an open palm objection signal. – Calm down, Oltigar, I did not come here to fight... For now... I want to know about the sun and what will you do? – We do not have to give you satisfaction, but as you go out soon, I will answer you: we do as we did earlier: the Call. – How long will you give in to those damned demons? How long will you sacrifice our people to have these short periods of peace, whatever the damn peace, purchased at the expense of innocent blood – Galaniel refutes with hatred in his eyes. – You were on the board when the call was passed, do not play the innocent now. – Terpolis spoke. – You know very well that I was outvoted, ever agree to that. You did it because it was more profitable to give than to continue fighting – Galaniel continued. – The call is made because the target of many overlaps of the few. This matter is
now closed, Galaniel – Oltigar answers.

  Galaniel clenches his fist while his blood boils, but when he’s about to lose his mind, he remembers the promise to Codaino and the problem he would cause to it, so he can hold, just saying – you are not worth nothing, are just a bunch of corrupt bureaucrats, even had the apathy to put a proxy in my place. You do not realize that this agreement will be our ruin. – He gets out of the room, slamming the door so hard that it comes off the mark, booming down.

  When he leaves the gates of the temple, the guards are still in the same position that left them. Ignoring them, Galaniel down the staircase and when it is in the middle of the descent, look at the square of the devices and see the preparations for the convocation. His hatred grows, but continues down the stairs and go toward the house of the fishmonger.

  Upon arriving, Melina is in the kitchen helping her mother with chores. Trying not to make noise, strip the armor, puts the work clothes and go to the fish market, trying thus to calm down.

  When he comes, Moan looks Galaniel and realizes he is different. Neither says anything, just give continuation to work. As the hours pass and the work requires attention, the guardian will calming and at the end of the day, though boring, since conversation with the fishmonger on the things of the day and, on leaving the fishmonger, Galaniel was already resigned.

  Arriving home, he acts as if it were any other day, not to worry the family. That night, the nightmares come back to plague him. Wake up sweaty, teary eyes and a lump in my throat. - One day my love, I will find you and we will be together again - whispers Galaniel, with the right fist clenched, looking out the window and seeing the moon. Another few moments pass, then the guardian turns sideways and try again to sleep, knowing that the next day will be attending.

  The Agreement

  Balkatar’s horror already made up seventy-one years. Generations had been lost in the war against the infernal. Cities all sent their young to the Citadel to be trained.

  The war machine was in full swing, the Citadel was swarming with people, animals and equipment.

  The city of Yelbir, at west of the capital fell last week, burned by demons.

  The nearby towns received refugees, defending them from the constant attacks of the spectra.

  In the Citadel, the High Council was meeting to draw retaliatory plans to hell, when you hear a shriek from above, through the window, in the temple room.

  The board looks out the window and sees a monstrous beast flapping its wings. It was a giant bat and rider of the spectra lieutenants Balkatar. His name was known Guisfar and his ferocity. “This time, humans do not come taste his blood, I bring a message from my boss”, and, immediately, he armed his bow with a flaming arrow and shot it toward the board, through the window and nailing an inch foot left of Alanak, which scares away and walking backwards, stumbling and falling Waduin sitting in a chair that was there. The spectrum, seeing the situation, laughs hysterically and leaves with his hideous animal.

  The arrow, which was still burning with a green, a characteristic of the fire demon minions in few seconds goes off, revealing a papyrus rolled in it, tied by a green rope.

  Once recovered from the shock, counselors surrounding the object. Oltigar breaks the loop of the rope and the papyrus fall of the arrow, which immediately falls apart. The council leader takes the papyrus and put it on the table. Terpolis the scribe of the temple and knowledgeable of various dialects in them included the damn language, translates aloud, content:

  “Long ago, this conflict drags! Let's make a pact we close it. I propose that, every five cycles, I will make the sun rise red and a week after that day, you should give me five human of each of its cities. Just put them in one of its towers and my warriors collect the. A human for each year of your city! It's a fair offer, accept, or will decimate them one-on-one as I did with this town you call Yelbir. You have until tomorrow to answer me. Put a red flag on the tower of the temple and, in a week, I will come get my human. Do not put anything and decimate the next town.”

  “It can only be crazy if you think you will deliver our population. That damn think we are like him,” is exalted Galaniel. “Not quite, guardian,” Oltigar bypasses. “Five persons by city, for five years, we lost more persons than that in two weeks?” The other board members wave their heads in agreement. “You cannot be comparing our warriors who gave their lives for humanity to give our people like cattle to the slaughter? Do not tell me you are really considering this base proposal,” Galaniel questions exasperated. “We are a council, we put in vote,” Oltigar answers . “All in favor of the agreement raise your hand – he says, opening the vote.”

  Of the nine directors six raise their hands, leaving only the guardian and the two biotas. “Proposal approved. On the choice of the people, I suggest a call to the draw of the five sacrifices, in each city. Everyone should participate, irrespective of caste, position, gender or age,” – Oltigar continues. “I agree with the motion and add that to alleviate the suffering of the family to which the chosen belongs, direct relatives will receive help and privileges in society and the chosen will be exalted, for the duration of the period of peace to which he contributed,” agreed Fyonir. “Opening vote again,” Oltigar talked, solemnly. “Again, we have the same six votes. It’s approved by majority again.”

  “It was for this that took part in the High Council. You have no moral fiber, look our people just as numbers, in a sickly mathematics,” cries the guardian, slamming his right hand closed on the council table. “It does not come with modesty and sentimentality, Galaniel. Our reserves are already low, our cities with few young. This war cannot continue indefinitely. Save us from his high moral standards,” responds Oltigar. “Well, really the mentality of this council reflects these filthy language you just talk, a leader, from this moment, I release myself from senior adviser post and let you, legislators of other people's lives, this taint to serve our people tray to the devil,” Galaniel closes, leaving the council chamber. “Typical of caste, when you need get your hands dirty, go away. Starting from tomorrow preparations, in five days we should have chosen in custody, as well as all other cities. Enter the guard of the Citadel outside the High Council by the guardian,” concludes Oltigar the meeting.

  “How is this possible?” Galaniel thinks. “Because the board was able to accept an absurd proposal that? Certainly, Balkatar plans not fulfill his part, bus he's just trying to buy time. Not just us that we are getting exhausted, he plans something and nobody else sees that?” continued to reason on the way to his home.

  Go through the Breed Street, enters the Street of the Hundred Steps, around the corner in Ancient Ank-Oq to get to your floor, a beautiful two-story house, with seated stone walls and oak flooring on both levels, coverage burnt clay tile, freshly painted, leaving the cool, even on very sunny days.

  The grass in front of the house is neatly trimmed and the fence surrounding the property and affixed and painted brown. The Angelim stone door, carved with the symbol of the variety of guardians, bordered by a dark varnish, gives a special touch to the entrance.

  The living room is spacious with a fireplace the center of the main apparently room for a mahogany table with twelve places, tacked chairs with burgundy velvet fabric.

  In the corner, a desk doubles as a bar with assorted drinks, made by distillers masters of the market, with their liquor, wine and the thick wheat beer, which is in a barrel, cooled be constantly submerged in the small stream that passes behind the house.

  The kitchen is not very big, but it presents the execution of dinners for over twenty guests. Annexes to the room, are the office and the library, where Galaniel spends most of his time at home.

  The rooms are upstairs, three in all, the couple, the future son or daughter and the visits. The bathroom, as in all the wealthier homes, is on the outside area at the back. Galaniel had done three, large, twin, one for the couple, one for children and one for employees and visitors.

  With achievements during the war got the ri
der position, which earned him a good pay and, therefore, a good financial situation, and has worked in the court, which also contributed to the improvement of their status. Despite the war, Galaniel and Nirmiriel had a good life.

  Nirmiriel already arrived from his work, which was to tutor the Citadel. Taught and accompanied the youth in arcane arts and all future Mentalese wanted to attend classes taught by it because, although it was very strict, was by far the best in charms and spells. Every student could stand her later as or killed to study and practice the exercises or repeated discipline in the following period ...

  When she came home, like leaving a little aside the battles and cooking, his favorite hobby. It overflowed the stresses of the day, making different dishes and elaborate. Galaniel, in turn, was happy to taste and approve all. That day Nirmiriel was making a chicken casserole with roasted vegetables. Woke up early to go to the market and buy the chicken slaughtered on time, yellow and purple potatoes, carrots, tomatoes and onions. For seasoning, orange juice, lemon, thyme, rosemary, butter, olive oil, salt and black pepper. Upon arriving, washed the vegetables and cut them while Zina, domestic helper, plucked and cleaned the chicken, removing the skin and washing it with lemon. Nirmiriel Boned chicken and seasoned with spices, letting it sit for a few moments.

  Then, lined folded into the casserole, along with the vegetables, ending with a generous topping of butter and a little olive oil. Zina had already put wood in the stove and left him at the point to receive the pot. Nirmiriel was satisfied with the result, paused for a moment to observe the plate and then took him to the fire. In thirty minutes was ready, almost at the time Galaniel opens the front door, reaching the temple.

  “Cowards! Imbeciles!” the guardian curses, even without accepting the board's decision “What happened El, last name since the time of dating,” questions Nirmiriel, been afflicted kitchen. “The devil proposed a deal of 'peace', a damn agreement that obliges us to deliver five citizens from each city, to have periods of calm. And ... and they accepted...” continued, disgusted, Galaniel. “You cannot! I do not believe! As they believe that a demon will fulfill any agreement? That's what I thought. I talked to them it was crazy. How could they give people of our people to be sacrificed? They said that this amount of people was lost in less than a week of war, it was the opportunity to reinforce that we were running out of warriors ... Anyway, proposed a vote and was outvoted, along with the biota. On some days there will be a call for the draw of the people that will be delivered.” To no action permitted, Nirmiriel drops in room chair thoughtfully, while her husband goes with sitting in the next chair, also silent.