02 Eternity - Guardian

by Laury Falter

  “That I was able to control it.”

  “Excellent,” she said. “Do you know how?”

  “No…” I said but unwilling to give up that easily I added, “By focusing on my surroundings.”

  “Yes, that’s right,” she said. “Although you don’t remember this, you were able to control your reaction to them in every one of your past lives. You’re going to learn how to focus on your surroundings again tonight.”

  “How?” I asked, leery. “Do you have a Fallen One stashed away?”

  “As a matter of fact…” she replied, “we don’t. But we don’t need one. We’re going to create a reaction similar to the way you feel when one is around.”

  With that announced, she approached me with a belt unlike anything I’d ever seen. It had small black boxes attached to it every half inch.

  “This is a device we’ve created and used in the training of other messengers. It will send shock waves through you, bolts of electricity that distract you…exactly the same as what you feel in the presence of Fallen Ones.”

  I took it and buckled it to my waist, suspicious of how well it would work. I’d been experiencing these feelings for the last three months and most intensely since the hoards of the Fallen Ones began arriving in New Orleans. I was skeptical, to say the least, that it could simulate the precise feelings and intensity of my radar.

  “Try it,” I said.

  She held a remote controlled switch in her hand that she flicked on.

  Immediately, the hair on the back of my neck rose up, my palms went sweaty, and my heart raced.

  She kept it on for only seconds but it felt like hours. Flicking off the switch, she waited for my confirmation.

  “Yeah…that works.”

  Pleased, she walked to the beginning of the first obstacle course and pointed out, “You may have noticed that these two courses are meant to run together. You’ll be running both courses tonight, starting here and stopping at the end of the second one. You will be timed and…I will be using the device.”

  I nodded though I was not quite sure of this exercise. My radar going off had always been a distraction. Yet, I figured if I could ignore it in previous lives, I could do it just the same here.

  Stepping up to the beginning of the course, I waited for Ms. Beedinwigg’s signal and then launched in to a sprint.

  I felt her turn on the machine by the second step I made inside the contraption. The moment I felt the feeling of panic rising in me, I smelled the metal coming off the machines, something I’d never noticed before. I heard the grinding of the fourth mechanism and knew it needed oil. Looking ahead of me at the way each part of the obstacle course was laid to fall in a precise order…I knew what to avoid and when.

  Being so alert to the course, I didn’t feel the signal not once after it went off. At the end, as I stepped out of the last potential threat, I recognized the signal again.

  Ms. Beedinwigg flicked it off.

  Turning, I found Campion and Alfred staring at me, jaws fallen open.

  Ms. Beedinwigg stood just to their left, smiling proudly.

  “Was that good?” I asked. “It felt good.”

  “I think ‘good’ would be an extreme understatement,” said Campion.

  I smiled my appreciation at his flattery but Ms. Beedinwigg didn’t allow me a moment of glory.

  “Let’s try it now with multiple attackers,” she suggested, handing me a sword and collecting weapons for her and Alfred. “I saw you hone your reaction at our last session when Alfred came into the fight. Your senses were up. They were aggravated and you skillfully used them to defeat me and to fight Alfred. I want to see you use your panic again, dominate it, use it…and nothing will overpower you.”

  She and Alfred raised their weapons and then she flicked on the belt.

  My body, having relaxed a little, sprang back in to action.

  Then came the first strike.

  I deflected Ms. Beedinwigg’s weapon at the last second. Another glinting, silver shard came in to view – Alfred’s weapon - and I was able to deflect it.

  Then I saw it all. I knew where Ms. Beedinwigg was going to strike by the sway of her torso and the way she flexed her muscles. I saw Alfred’s technique as if I was the one commanding the steps and because of it I could judge where he would land his weapon. The fight became a dance, one in which I saw every move before it happened. My body followed the speed and direction of their weapons so that they were unable to connect with me, taking aim and attacking when I saw a gap in their defense. In the end, Ms. Beedinwigg landed on the ground with Alfred on top of her, both necks against my sword.

  Ms. Beedinwigg, panting, said, “You’re better than I thought you’d be.”

  I smirked at her. “Happy to disappoint.” I stood up, rolled my shoulders, and added, “That felt good. Let’s go again.”

  Ms. Beedinwigg snickered. “I think the trainers have done all they can for the day.”

  Campion approached from his regular chair against the back wall. “It’s a good day when you outlast the trainer.”

  “It certainly is,” agreed Ms. Beedinwigg then she paused and assessed me openly. “You are almost ready.”

  “Almost?” I scoffed. “I believe I could have handled you and Alfred with one hand behind my back. How could I not be ready?”

  Ms. Beedinwigg looked at me squarely. “Trust me…there will come a time when you are ready. You have not crossed that threshold. Not yet.”

  I rolled my eyes, spinning on my heels. Silent and disgruntled, I fit my weapon back in its place in the cabinet.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Ms. Beedinwigg called out.

  “Right, right,” I muttered, heading up the stairs.

  Campion and I drove home, with me at the handlebars. I sped, while sensing strongly that Campion disagreed with my little display of anger.

  I didn’t care.

  When we reached the driveway, I stopped and said over the rumble of my Harley Davidson, “I’d like some time on my own.”

  “Maggie,” he called over the thundering motor, “don’t you think you’re taking this temper tantrum a bit far?”

  That made me twist in my seat. My lips pinched in anger until I spoke. “I’m ready, Campion. I’m ready.”

  “Yes, but…” he sighed in frustration, “yes but she has generations of training experience. Don’t you think you should listen to her?”

  “She has generations of experience and yet I took her down tonight…she and Alfred…together,” I pointed out.

  “But she knows what you’re up against with the Fallen Ones. She knows what to expect-”

  “Campion,” I cut him off. “I appreciate your input. I do. But I need some time on my own. Would you mind getting off my motorcycle?”

  He disagreed. I could tell from his lack of movement. Eventually though, after several seconds of silent contemplation, he stepped off and moved to the edge of the driveway.

  “Thanks,” I said, though I wasn’t sure if he heard me over the motor’s roar.

  The truth was…my mind was having an internal dialogue its self. While partly agreeing with Campion, I also trusted my instincts. I felt ready. I watched my past lives, reliving them so that my mind recalled the movements I’d used in defense. I had beaten the course and multiple-attacker training with Ms. Beedinwigg and Alfred landing on the floor at the edge of my blade.

  I was good.

  In the back of my mind I could hear Ms. Beedinwigg tell me, “Good isn’t good enough. You are mankind’s last hope. You are the last of the messengers. You need to be perfect.”

  Those words were lingering in my consciousness as I drove the bike into the shed. Still overwhelmingly annoyed, I kicked out the stand, leaned it, and swung my leg over to the ground. Pulling my key from the ignition, I strolled to the door and stopped.

  Only then did I notice the hair on the back of my neck was going wild. I hadn’t felt them rise up, being so preoccupied with anger.

  Absentmin
dedly, I glanced down to my waist.

  Yes, I’d remembered to take off Ms. Beedinwigg’s device.

  That was when I heard the growl.

  It was nearly pitch black in the small shed where I stored my Harley Davidson with only a faint illumination from the street light several yards away. My eyes scanned the darkness.

  There was only one place for the Fallen One to hide…in the shadows.

  I hadn’t moved since it let me know it was here. Instead, I concentrated on its sound, trying to determine where it stood from behind me.

  It was breathing, slow and shallow, but the noise echoed off the metal inside, disrupting any potential at honing in on it. A rustling sound told me that it had just opened its wings…readying for attack.

  I couldn’t get a firm fix on the sounds until the very last second. Only when it had launched itself into the air did I know where it was hiding.

  A scrapping, long and hideous, against the metal told me that it hadn’t been standing in the shadows at all. It had been clinging on the main beam running from one end of the roof to the other.

  It had been hiding from above.

  That wasn’t what threw me, however.

  The scrapping sound came from claws and if my attacker had claws it wasn’t a Fallen One.

  I was now in the presence of an Elsic.

  Although I attempted to turn, my body only made it halfway around before the collision came.

  The force of it made my body flip, heels sweeping fully around towards the sky and back to the ground again. Already in motion, I fell backwards, landing hard against the firm dirt.

  My breath was gone. My mouth was open, my chest was moving, but no air was filling my lungs.

  The wind had been knocked out of me.

  Haggard, my breath drew in then, but the damage had been done. My attacker had me where it wanted me: On the ground, alone, and without a single weapon in sight.

  Then my mind slowed, focusing. From its walk I knew it would attack from the right side.

  Its muscles were tensing on that side of its body.

  I, however, wasn’t going to wait around for it.

  Flipping my legs over my head again – this time with purpose – I rolled over and landed on my feet.

  Its wings drew out, stretching longer than a man’s body.

  I couldn’t see much of it in the darkness but I assumed it was sneering.

  “Let’s go,” I hissed, not allowing my voice above a whisper or my housemates would hear and certainly be hurt in an attempt to rescue me.

  It came at me then but it never touched me.

  The influx of sensory perception when a Fallen One was present had now been controlled. Using it, I watched its attacks, diverting them, sweeping, hurling, and ducking out of its way.

  It nicked my ear and slammed against my elbow but never came any closer.

  Then it was on the ground, tumbling. Another body was on top of it, this one with white wings.

  In one fluid motion, my savior rose up and sliced my attacker across the chest.

  Blood spewed, it bent in pain only to snap back and spring towards the sky. Its wings flapping wildly, it disappeared a second later.

  The one left on the ground, my guardian, turned to me. “Are you harmed?”

  “No, Eran,” I said quietly in awe of him.

  He bent his knees then and launched himself upwards, his wings carrying him rapidly in the direction my attacker had gone.

  Campion was beside me then, his own wings out and ready.

  “Stay,” Eran commanded with a holler over his shoulder and Campion’s wings settled.

  Campion and I watched the sky without a word spoken.

  Minutes passed.

  Everything was silent.

  Then, in the distance…movement.

  I held my breath, unblinking, watching the being approach.

  It floated through the clouds, descending towards us, for what felt like hours until it was just beyond the tree tops.

  “Eran,” I breathed in relief.

  He landed directly in front of us and stepped forward once, allowing his wings to settle against his back.

  “I lost it in the lake,” he said, all of us understanding that to be Lake Pontchartrain.

  “I didn’t know Elsics could swim,” I replied.

  Eran’s head snapped in my direction. “Is that what you saw? An Elsic?”

  “I’m-I’m really not sure,” I admitted. “It was pretty dark out here.”

  Eran’s eyes fell to the ground. “It definitely flew like one.”

  Campion, having remained silent this entire time, cut between us and headed for the shed. He stopped and dropped to one knee just outside it, picking up something from the ground. Carrying it back, he held it up for Eran and me to see.

  “An Elsic feather?” Campion asked.

  Eran’s face tensed. “Magdalene, please go inside. Wait for me in the kitchen.”

  I was about to reject that idea until I realized I could simply listen to them through the door. Apparently, Eran knew this too because he spoke too low for me to hear, even with my ear to the door.

  They entered a few minutes later, solemn. Campion left the kitchen almost immediately.

  “Where did you learn to fight like that?” he asked.

  “Was that an Elsic feather?” I countered.

  He stared at me clearly not interested in playing a game of who could ask more questions before the other one caved.

  “I believe so,” he finally acknowledged.

  “What does that mean?” I asked.

  “Where did you learn to fight like that?” he repeated, unwavering now.

  He’d answered me so I acquiesced to him. “Ms. Beedinwigg, of course.”

  He tilted his head forward, blinking. “Ms. Beedinwigg? Our biochemistry teacher?”

  “Yes,” I answered confused. “My nightly sessions…training with her…”

  His brow creased. “Nightly sessions?”

  “Yes,” I stated. “Campion told you about it that morning on the balcony.”

  Eran brought his head back, perplexed and struggling to recall. Then his face loosened as understanding came over him. “That,” he chuckled, “That was not a discussion about your training with Ms. Beedinwigg. He informed me that morning that you worry about my missions and that you’ve ask at times to be put to sleep for the night.”

  “What?”

  “He never informed me-”

  “I heard you.”

  We stared at each other for a moment and then I chuckled. “I wondered why you never asked about them…”

  “Because I never knew about them to begin with…” he stated, not smiling but not upset. I figured his thoughts were still partly on the Elsic feather, which he held in his hand. “So…you’re in training with Ms. Beedinwigg. Evidently she’s training you to conquer Fallen Ones and has been doing so for a while now.”

  “Several days,” I confirmed.

  “Well, she’s certainly good with her disguises.” His shoulders lifted after a quick half-laugh. “I had no idea she was from the human families you hired to train you…” He stared back at me proudly. “She’s taught you well.”

  “Re-taught…retrained…whatever…” I shrugged, not knowing how to convey that I’d known it all before until I returned as a reborn and forgotten it. “She’s a good teacher.”

  We were silent for a moment, an awkward silence, until I asked the question we both knew I would.

  “You believe that was an Elsic out there tonight?”

  He did not look like he wanted to answer. “I can’t tell you one way or another, but I’m going to do my best to find out.”

  “How will you do that?”

  “I’ll be meeting with Magnus tonight and we’ll need to determine who will go to the prison to ensure it hasn’t been compromised.”

  “Not you,” I nearly shouted.

  There was no way I would go along with Eran stopping in at the place that hel
d captive the Fallen Ones he had imprisoned, especially when the security could have been compromised.

  Eran knew this and did the only thing he could at that moment.

  “Magdalene, my love,” he stated, “Forgive me for this.” He then called out towards the living room. “Campion.”

  He came around the corner.

  I began to oppose.

  Even as I opened my mouth, the room slowly went black around the edges of my sight, closing in until the darkness consumed me.

  The last thing I felt before waking up in the Hall of Records was Eran’s arms coming around me, catching me as I collapsed in sleep.

  Immediately upon waking up, I went looking for Gershom.

  If Eran was going to the prison, on a reconnaissance mission unparalleled in the level of danger he’d already been facing, I needed all the training I could get.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: MISSING

  Gershom’s training was just as perilous and tiring as Ms. Beedinwigg’s, I learned. Unfortunately, he wasn’t as disciplined in his constructive criticism.

  “Do it again, Maggie.”

  “Faster, Maggie.”

  “Better, Maggie.”

  Setting all that aside, I trained hard in the afterlife. Knowing Eran could very well be on his way to the prison, I was going to exhaust myself in preparing to intervene if needed.

  Being in the afterlife, I thought, might make training easier.

  I was wrong.

  Somehow, my training area was designed to be harder on the other side. My body felt weighted down, the temperatures were more extreme, and the terrain was more challenging than even Ms. Beedinwigg’s obstacle courses.

  The Fallen Ones – just figments that I had created to train against – were even tougher. They fought with more strength, screamed louder, and moved quicker.

  I figured my logic had been to create an environment that was more demanding than what I would experience in a real fight against a Fallen One, to make it easier on me when I did encounter one.

  After all the strenuous effort, I hoped I was right.

  Gershom didn’t show a single bead of perspiration or gasp for a deep breath once. He wouldn’t. Having come here through the process of death, he was held to a different standard. As for me…I was simply visiting which lent me to a set of distinct limitations.