“You were the one who convinced me to become a Guardian—you can convince me to be the leader of the Guardians as well. After this, though, I am taking a damn break. These bones are tired.” He raised his hand to his face. “Look—you can see the yellowing and the cracking! You need to look after yourself—you know, first impressions.”
“And your fiancée is a lich—deal with a few cracks, will you.” Claire huffed but Anthony just moved her in his arms, unable to stop himself laughing at her pout.
She rolled her eyes at him.
“There are many mysteries in Dena. Once we have this war un- der our belts, there is that Fountain of Recovery we heard about in the Misty Isles off the coast of Deepwood.”
“We never knew which coast,” Claire said.
“Well, we’ll have time to explore. We have plenty more to see and more adventures to be had!” Anthony declared valiantly.
Claire couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “You’re an idiot.” She let him pull her in tight as she rested her head against his
breastplate. “But you’re my idiot.” She floated up and kissed his cheekbone.
“She likes me!” Anthony yelled out louder than when he had woken up.
“Shut up!” Claire blushed as she hit Anthony’s chest.
He flew back, his legs hitting the altar as he flipped over it and hit the ground. “I’m okay! Missing my skull though. Uhh, hun, could you give me a hand? Oops, hmm, yup, missing some finger bones.”
“I’m sorry!” Claire rushed around the altar to find Anthony’s body slowly getting up as he made grunting noises, moving his skull around so he could try to see his body. Claire stopped, her eyes go- ing wide as she clamped her mouth shut, trying not to laugh.
“I wasn’t ready! Some warning next time would be nice!” Claire, who was barely holding in her laughter, burst out. “Nev-
er seen someone go head over ass so badly!”
“Hey! I got a good fifteen feet with my head, thank you very much. Head toss, would not recommend!”
Claire grabbed Anthony’s head and put him back on his body as they looked for his missing finger bones.
“Ahh, this is true love—hundreds of years and you’re helping me look for my finger bones,” Anthony said as he put the bones back in place.
Claire just shook her head, reaching out and holding his hand to pull him along. “Come on, we’ve got work to do, you lazy bunch of bones!”
Anthony grabbed his helmet and his gauntlets as they passed the altar, his jaw open in a grin as he looked at Claire and her hold- ing his hand, pulling him along.
He squeezed her hand tighter, not wanting to let go ever again.
***
“You can make Guardians? How does it work?” Aila looked at An- thony, who stood beside Claire, holding her hand and not letting go.
They had called everyone back to the main hall for their an- nouncement.
“I just have to call down the Tribunal, which is made up of some of the strongest spirits that protect Dena or look over it. Then they will judge and look through the candidates, judging them and seeing if they are worthy to become Guardians,” Anthony said.
“They will bless them with the ability to use Guardian’s Judg- ment as well as imbue their body with power from Dena, which will allow them to become much stronger than before and allow them to use their different arts to call down Guardian’s Judgment. Gnomes don’t have power, but they were still Guardians and can write runes. With the right runes, you can create a courtroom of judgment. They just need to put a bit of blood on the formation and it calls them forward,” Claire expanded.
“Look, let me show you.” A hammer appeared in Anthony’s hand and he brought it down. It rang out in midair and a purple gavel appeared. Purple lines of power traced out from the gavel, spreading out rapidly to become a table, then several other tables.
Chairs appeared behind the tables and judges appeared.
Aila could tell that these spirits were much older and more powerful than the ones she had seen before. They took more time to appear and looked over the people present in the room.
“This is a Tribunal held in order to judge those worthy to be- come a Guardian. Does one of you wished to be tried?”
“Damien All-Hammer, the Dancing Wolf from the east,” An- thony said.
Damien’s body shook as he looked at Anthony and Claire. Anthony smiled and nodded to Damien.
He took a few steps forward in front of the Tribunal.
“It has been centuries since the last Guardian stood before us to be selected. Though I remember you, Damien,” the elemental said. Looking at their body, it seemed as if they contained their own world. There was a timeless age to the elemental.
“Elemental Leader Randarok.” Damien bowed his head to the elemental.
The elemental laughed. “It has been a long time since I have heard that name. For one so young, your memory is still sharp.”
“Shall we begin the trial?” a human woman wearing a robe with armor layers said. Her face was serious but there was a kind light to her eyes as she looked at Damien.
“I am not ready, but I will do my best,” Damien said.
“More time rarely means gaining more wisdom. It seems you have done both,” an old-looking elf said.
I have never seen an elf that old. They almost look like the old Maestro Damus, the head mage who created the Deepwood. Aila felt that these people were those who shaped Dena, not merely lived within it.
“We shall begin.” The beast kin leader’s voice rumbled through the hall.
Each of the judges raised their hands. Two arrows appeared, facing each other. They pushed upward, becoming an X before pointing above and below. A purple eye opened between them, looking down on Damien.
Seeing them, Aila felt bare, all of her secrets and her thoughts revealed.
Damien’s head slumped forward as the Guardian symbol moved forward, ringing around Damien. All seven eyes stared at him, forming a circle.
Aila saw his body twitch as the judges closed their own eyes. Their purple Guardian symbol appeared on their armor, on chains, or on their very bodies.
After a few minutes, the arrows pulled together. The Tribunal leaders opened their eyes and looked at Damien, who seemed to be recovering.
“Damien All-Hammer, you have tread a long and hard path, taking up a cause that was not your own. You have long been a Guardian,” the beast kin said, his eyes shining as he looked at Damien.
He made a coughing noise under those proud gazes.
“Do you agree to carry out the duties of a Guardian, sworn to protect this Dena, its people, whether human, beast kin, gnome, dwarf, goblin, elven, or elemental?”
“I do,” Damien said.
“Repeat after me, the Guardian Oath.”
The other members of the Tribunal rose, covering their Guardian symbol. All of them spoke together:
“We fight the strong and the armed.”
Damien repeated it after them, staring up at them all. Threads of purple power rose from Dena, wrapping around his left arm, cre- ating runes.
“We stand beside those who would stand beside us.” Purple power wrapped around his left leg.
“We stand for those who can’t stand for themselves.” It threaded around his right leg now.
“We teach justice, not war.” It wrapped his head.”
“We strive for peace, not destruction.” His chest.
“We will not look away from the world, whether it’s darkness or it’s light.”
His Eyes.
“We are the harbingers, the peace seekers, the blood letters, the god killers, and the farmers.”
His hands.
“To those who know these words, they know our oath.”
Purple threads ran across his body, covering him, converging on the power that had covered his heart, creating a faint Guardian Symbol as it grew more powerful.
“You have heard a warrior’s words. “A Guardian’s word is their la
w.
“We do not give it freely and do not accept it without under- standing.”
Damien finished repeating after them.
He stood there in purple light a guardian emblem on his chest. He didn’t seem to notice it and seemed at complete peace, looking at him it was like looking at a slumbering beasts, ready to
be awoken.
The leaders own Guardian emblems lit up with power, illumi- nating the hall. The eyes of their emblems opened, the power of De- na’s races converged, meeting in the air between the Tribunal lead- ers and Damien.
“A Guardian is neither a shield nor a sword, but at times they will be asked to be both. They are the force that protects, a force that judges and are judged. Your actions will have greater conse- quence than you ever believed. You have become a Guardian, and you must strive every day to be better than the last.” The dwarven leader leaned on a metal cane as she looked into Damien’s eyes.
The purple beams of power disappeared to show an emblem formed from metal and purple lines. It floated over to Damien and touched his own glowing half-formed emblem on his armor. It passed through without pausing. The threads that had spread across his body linked together.
There was a rush of power, the wind and ground shook as pow- er flooded towards Damien.
He grunted as the power flowed through him, his eyes flicker- ing purple as the hairs of those watching stood on end as they could feel the terrifying power rolling off of Damien.
The purple threads of power spread through his body started sinking into his bones, and his aura increased in power.
The world calmed down and Damien stood back up straight.
There was a change to him, he looked older, his power was withdrawn and his movements were more refined.
Damien looked at the symbol on his chest that was fading, imprinted upon him. No matter what he would forever remain a guardian.
Damien touched the symbol, seeing it one couldn’t help but feel their heart being pulled as he had finally taken the last step to become a Guardian after nearly five centuries of upholding their rules and teachings.
He quickly recovered and stepped down from the platform. The leaders all watched as he stepped towards his friends.
“Are there any others?” the human lady asked, looking to the others.
“I wish to try,” Aila said. After seeing it all, she felt as though she had to, that she needed to make the jump.
The Tribunal looked at her.
“Aila Wranoris, you are a princess among the dark elves. You know that if you become a Guardian, you will not be able to take on the role of princess unless you cease to be a Guardian? You may not use your personal strength or position in a negative manner,” the elven leader said in a severe tone.
“I am a princess, but there is a reason that we abide by the coun- cil, only turning to the royal family in times of need and disaster,” Aila said.
“Very well.” The elven leader looked to the others.
“Please.” The human lady indicated to the area within the closed Guardian eyes.
Aila stood where Damien had before.
The leaders of the Tribunal settled down and closed their eyes.
The eyes around Aila opened and she felt her body relax.
She found herself on a panel of judges; she had been a judge for years. It was tiring and old to her. In front of her stood two men: one who was the accused and one the witness. The witness was terrified while the accused, a man believed to run an under- ground crime syndicate within the city, sat there without a care in the world.
He has powerful ties that reach all the way up. Even if I convict him, it will be overturned and he will be free in a few weeks at the most. We can carry out the law within these walls but it is undone by just a few outside of it.
She looked at the prosecution. The case had been pulled to- gether by a young man who had become a guard to use the power of the city to seek justice for his brother. He had taken his time to build a case, find a witness. He sat behind the bench, his face blank but relieved.
He expects me to do my job, but even if I do, it will be undone.
They will try to kill him and his witness as a display to all others.
I need something to hold him tighter, something to shift his aim away from them. He’s arrogant and thinks he’s above the law. If I make him believe that, and the right word games... That might work. It’s a gamble, but at the very least I can try to rope him in.
She talked to her clerk and gave them a message. They read it and hurried off.
“Mister Duncan, gangster, thug degenerate, peddler of drugs, possible murderer, low-life coward, hiding behind Daddy’s lawyers.”
“Objection!” one of the lawyers called out, finally recovering.
“What to? Obviously it’s not the money in your pocket, Mister Malrooney,” Aila said.
“This is a court of law. I demand that we have a judge not prej- udiced against my client!”
“The rest of them are dealing with cases that won’t stain their hands or for people who don’t have Daddy backing them. I won- der—why is he so attached to his delinquent son? Do you do the services for him or do you get your boys to do it?” Aila could see Duncan’s veins were popping out. As people in the audience hid their laughter, his thugs looked around with threatening looks. Not used to others speaking out about you, are you?
“Miss Wranoris!”
“Malrooney, I have much better things than being at this trial with some service boy. So let’s get on with it!”
“I ask that Miss Wranoris is removed and another judge re- places her!”
“On what grounds?” Aila looked perplexed. “It is clear that your judgment is impaired!”
“Impaired? I was just reading out charges. And isn’t Mister Duncan here listed as owning a garden company? Doesn’t that mean he trims his clients’ bushes, bends down and really gets into the dirt?”
Duncan slammed his hand on the table.
“Frustrated by your job, Mister Duncan? I would be, too—sounds like you spend a lot of time on your hands and knees.” Aila went back to her documents. People looked at one anoth-
er, wondering what was happening.
Aila saw that one of the guards wearing civilian attire sat down in the seats. He coughed and looked her in the eyes.
“Well, looking at everything here, it looks like Mister Duncan is free to go.” Aila put the documents down. She made sure that they didn’t close.
The prosecution started to pack up and the guard looked at Duncan, who was pulling on his suit as he started to leave. His dark eyes bore into Aila’s.
She could feel the dark thoughts behind his eyes.
The guard who had brought the charges and the witness was talking to the prosecution. The witness looked as though he were going to collapse as those dark eyes from Duncan’s thugs landed on them.
Aila used her superior hearing, moving things around in her binder.
“No one disrespects me like that. Get some boys. Go to her house—make an example and put her corpse out for all to see. I don’t care if she’s some judge.”
“Come back to the bench, please, Mister Duncan!” Aila bright- ened up as everyone looked over.
Duncan looked at his lawyer.
“Miss Wranoris, this entire session has been ridiculous. What do you mean?” Malrooney looked deeply disappointed with her.
“Sorry. I was reviewing something here and I believe that there will be new evidence soon,” Aila said.
“Really, Miss Wranoris!” Malrooney let out a displeased sigh and stared daggers at her.
“Malrooney, do I need to remind you whose courtroom this is?” Aila asked in a quiet voice that made him stand straighter. “I didn’t think so.”
The guard who was in civilian clothes left the room, with no one noticing him. He had been just a few feet from Duncan.
Her clerk passed something to an aide of the prosecution, who brought it up to the bench.
&nbs
p; “We would like to submit new evidence,” the man said. “Good.” Aila nodded as everyone returned to their seats. “We were not aware of this,” Malrooney said.
“Well, it is recent evidence.” The prosecution looked at Aila. “Present it,” Aila said.
The recording played, with Duncan’s voice.
Aila’s expression darkened. Malrooney went pale and Duncan frowned, looking around.
“Threatening a court justice with death, planning it out, at- tempted murder, of the second degree. Being the subject of this threat, I really cannot take over these proceedings. I will have to pass this to the county judges. Mister Duncan, you will be held in holding while we investigate these accusations,” Aila said.
Her vision resolved and she left the courthouse and was in front of the Tribunal, not back in the hall but a new room.
“Why did you do that?” the elven leader asked. Aila remembered that she was in a trial.
“With me raising it to judges who are outside of the city, they will have a much harder time to bribe or interest them. They will be truly neutral. Using the investigation, the judges and people on Duncan’s payroll would only be able to cover up some of his activi- ties. It would allow us to look into his doings much closer than be- fore. With the increased pressure, something was sure to go. I could get the judiciary to bring in their own lawyers and get the guards to do their jobs. If I just pressed ahead, then I would only get him for a murder that could be overturned,” Aila said.
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