Guardian Fall Chapter 4

Chapter 4
A Night for Three

         Fire and music clashed under the moon and stars. Eight people, including Bran, had passed the tests and were now young members of the Guardians. The village celebrated by holding a feast.

         Blazing at the center of the village was an enormous bonfire. Villagers stomped their feet and pounded their chests, while moving to the stampeding rhythm of the drums, gongs and lutes. Sweat slid down the bodies of the dancers, as air quickly escaped from their mouths. Even though their bodies looked ready to drop from exhaustion, their glee and joy fueled their bodies to keep moving and dancing.

         The scent of cooked meat clouded the air. All kinds of food were being served. Fish was not the only dish on the menu. Stewed chicken, roasted pork, yam cakes, roasted bananas dipped in brown sugar, fried potatoes and other kinds of food were being passed around.

         Hiram and the other newly accepted members mingled among the villagers. They chatted with heads held high, received various compliments and praise for passing the tests and accepted a series of gifts and food from people. However, one of the eight didn't talk with the others, or receive any compliments, or get any offerings. In fact, he wasn't even taking part in the festivities.

         Back at home, Bran kneeled before a shrine. Amon kneeled right beside him. It was a simple wooden shrine decorated with small relief sculptures of animals. Two items were placed on the shrine. One was a sword and the other was a jade necklace. Bran lit two torches in front of the shrine and bowed his head.

         "Mother, father, it saddens me to say this, but I will be leaving the village after tomorrow," Bran said, speaking to the items. "I am quite sad to leave home, but I am quite glad, for I am now a young member of the Guardians."

         "The tests were simple, yet difficult, demanding worth over skill. Though I maybe lazy and lack much, I was seen as worthy of joining them. Mother, father, I will be leaving to the capital city after two days. Mother, father, I wish you both were still here."

         Staring at the ground, Bran found a small drop splash on his hand. It was a tear from his eye. He didn't realize that he was crying. Shaking his head, he immediately wiped his eyes and took a deep breath. Amon placed his hand on Bran's shoulder.

         "Do not weep," Amon said. "Hold your head high and smile. Let the dead know that you are doing fine."

         "I know," Bran said, sucking it up.

         "Rika, Juan, your son is right," Amon said, as he spoke to the objects. "He is indeed lazy and lacks a lot, particularly in his physical strength and social skills. He spends most of his days down at the river talking to kids and doesn't really meet with others his age."

         Bran leaned over and glared at his uncle. What was he doing? If his parents were actually listening to this, they would be rolling in their graves, whilst biting their lips until it bled.

         "However, he is a clever and good-hearted boy," Amon continued with a sigh. "In all my years of watching over this brat, I can tell you that he is quite persistent. When he wants something, he would work hard for it. If you could see him train this last month, you will be amazed with how quickly he has adapted. With that said, he still needs guidance."

         Amon then leaned over and bowed his forehead on the floor.

         "Rika, Juan, I can no longer watch over him," Amon said. "The time has come for him to make his own path. Please, guide this young fool on his journey."

         After speaking to the shrine, Amon stood up and went to another room. Opening his ears, Bran heard a rustle in the other room. Amon returned shortly with an item wrapped tightly in cloth. Judging from the shape of the cloth, the item had to be a small sword or dagger. He took a deep breath and blew most of the dust off, while brushing the rest with his hands. Kneeling back down, he faced Bran and carefully handed over the wrapped item.

         "What is it?" Bran asked.

         "Open it," Amon replied.

         Unfolding the cloth, Bran found a pair of daggers. The grip was covered in velvet leather and the pommels were shaped with the head of some reptile, most likely a crocodile. The blades were dark and glossy, nearly resembling obsidian. Taking a close look, Bran saw his image reflect nearly perfectly on the blades. Flicking the blade, Bran heard a tiny ring.

         "These are amazing!" Bran remarked. "Where did you get these daggers from?!"

         "Back when I was younger, a group of raiders tried to pillage our village," Amon explained, as he looked at the daggers. "I helped defend the village from the raiders and those daggers were the spoils I had taken from one of the raiders I killed."

         "I almost forgot that you were a warrior," Bran said.

         "Anyway, I kept these daggers, hoping to give them to my son," Amon said. "I never had married, so I never got children. However, I was blessed with a brat like you, so I'm giving them to you for your journey."

         "Thank you, uncle," Bran said, as he bowed his head. "I won't fail you. When I return, I will become a Guardian that would make you and this village proud."

         "I know you will," Amon nodded. "Now, let's return to the celebration. I'm certain that quite a number of people would like to see you."

         Packing the daggers, Bran and his uncle exited the house. As soon as he stepped outside, he was instantly greeted by a number of different people. All of them knew Bran, but Bran didn't really know most of them. He had seen them around the village many times, but he didn't really know their names, or he just didn't remember. Amon quietly slipped from his grandson, giving him some time to spend with his new fans!

         "You actually did it, congratulations!" a young man said.

         "Have a drink, boy! You've earned it!" said man, as he shoved a cup of palm wine into Bran's hands.

         "We knew you could do it, Kuya Bran!" said a child, who tugged on his leg.

         "Bran!" a voice called out. It was one that Bran recognized. Pushing through a few people, Marcus sprung out and pounced on Bran. Placing one arm over Bran's neck, Marcus began rubbing his knuckles on Bran's skull, as if he were trying to grind stone."You passed, you fool! You did it!"

         "T-thanks!" Bran said, as he freed himself from Marcus's grip. "It's just a shame that I didn't show the efforts of your training."

         "True, but those days weren't a complete waste," Marcus said, as he and Bran moved through the people. "Once you're in the capital, you will probably be training again. With what I put you through, training with the older Guardians wouldn't be as painful."

         "I hope so," Bran sighed.

          "Anyway, I'd like to have a word with you, in private," Marcus said.

         Leading Bran away from the festivities, Marcus brought Bran outside the village. They had gone a bit far, but not to the point where the village had disappeared. Light from the bonfires were still seen and the music was still heard a bit. Outside the village, another kind of music played. A band of chirping crickets and hooting owls sang under the sky. A cool breeze blew by, rattling the leaves.

         No one else was around. Only the two of them were there, standing on a field of grass, blanketed in shadows. The moon and stars were the witnesses, along with any nocturnal creature that quietly observed in the darkness.

         "What are we doing here?" Bran asked, as he looked around.

         "Did you know that men aren't that good in expressing themselves?" Marcus replied with his back facing Bran. "We don't talk about feelings or emotions. However, when we want to say something to another, we do it through actions. Everyone is having fun in the village, so no one is here to bother us for our own little fun."

         Bran noticed the emphasis on the word fun.

         Turning around, Marcus threw a fist right at Bran's cheek. Flying off his feet, Bran landed on his back like a sack. Stunned by the sudden attack, Bran lay on the ground, wondering what had just happened. The punch felt twice as strong as it normally did in training. There wasn't really any power behind the knuckles, but there was something behind them.

         "That was for the many years of leaving me to do all the work in the fields!"Marcus yelled, as he picked Bran back up. "You're a lazy fool who would often rely on others!"

         Marcus pulled his arm back for another punch, but Bran saw it coming. Reacting quickly, he shoved his knee into Marcus's stomach.

         "Well you're a crazy idiot who always enjoys working!" Bran replied, pulling himself away. "We were nearly swallowed by a python, because you volunteered us to go hunting for their eggs!"

          "Haven't you gotten over that?!" Marcus yelled, charging in for an attack. "While we're at it, what about the time provoked those roosters we were supposed to look after?! They chased us around the village!"

         "Well they were asking for it!" Bran raised his arms, blocking the blow and then retaliating with a swift hook. "Not to mention, you hated watching over those roosters, but you still chose to watch over them!"

         "That's because you got us into trouble, when you tried taking those food offering for the forest spirits!" Marcus said, pulling his head back from the strike.

         The two friends continued to exchange punches, blows and insults at one another for a while longer. Their grunts and yells were well masked by the loud music playing in the village. No one had heard them or guessed that there was a fight occurring.

         Both young men continued to beat each other, until they had both dropped on the ground. Neither of them was actually hurt too badly. Black marks were seen around their arms, but none on their faces, except for Bran, who had a red spot on his cheek from the first punch. Lying on the grass, they panted and glared at the stars.

         "You are a lazy ass that always tells stories and always wanders to who knows where," Marcus said, as he panted. "Though I often got in trouble, because of you, I would be lying if I said that I didn't enjoy the nonsense that you drag me into."

         Bran went silent and then smiled. "And you are an annoying bull that's so focused in doing work and making me do it, even if I didn't want," he replied. "However, I am thankful that you cared enough to force me to tag along, when the others would just stay away from me."

         Marcus looked over to Bran and then to the stars. Millions flooded the sky, like silver dust scattered across a black sheet. Even if they had a million years, they probably wouldn't have enough time to count them all.

         "I think this is the first time that we were ever painfully honest with each other," Marcus said.

         "You're right," Bran realized.

         Standing back up, Marcus stretched his back and then extended his hand over to Bran. "Remember me when you make it to the top," he said.

         "Like I could ever forget you," Bran said. Taking Marcus's hand, Bran got off his back and on his feet.

         Squeezing each other's palm like a jackfruit, the two bumped their chests together and patted each other's back.

         "Let's head back to the village," Marcus said.

         Together, the two returned to village, where the celebration was still at full swing. Food and drinks hadn't run out. People either slept on the ground and on mats, while others overflowed with energy and life, as if there was going to be no tomorrow.

         Seated on one of the mats, Amon smoked a stick of tobacco, while drinking some wine. A few other elders accompanied him with a bowl of salted nuts and green mangoes. The elders patted Amon on the back, as he nodded approvingly. Though Bran didn't hear a word they were saying, he had a hunch that it had something to do with him.

          People crowded around Hiram. However, they weren't praising or offering him this time. Instead, they were cheering him on, similarly to the test earlier. Ramah and Jonah were present with their friend. Ramah and Hiram faced one another, drinking an entire cup and waiting for it to be refilled, just so that they could repeat the process. Jonah lay beside Ramah, his mouth gurgling with bubbles and his eyes wide opened and crossed together.

         The other new members were still basking in their fame and glory. They chatted and boasted, while making several promises.

         As for the Guardians, four of them sat back comfortably, eating and drinking anything that was offered to them. Dakila Sur had gathered most of the children around him. He told stories about the Guardians in a manner similar to Bran's. However, his seemed more exciting. Besides the usual gestures and tones of voice, he would take a position his body and act out the characters and even provide some imagery through his hands, by forming uniquely shaped shadows.

         Bran glanced around, looking for a certain person. Near the biggest bonfire, she danced by herself. Perspiration slid down her skin, reflecting the light of the flames. Her skin looked as if it were shining. With the grace of a swan, she danced in front of the others. Her clothes were colors of green and gold. She was decorated with various jewels and treasures. Alvina was mouth dropping.

         Stretching his arms and yawning, Marcus tip-toed behind Bran and then pushed him. Easily losing his balance, Bran tripped over and landed in front of the dancing young woman.

         Looking up, he saw Alvina's face. She offered her hand to him and asked. "Would you like to dance?"

         Once again, Bran started stuttering. He looked back at Marcus, who blinked and held his thumb up. Taking one deep breath, Bran calmed his mind. Taking her hand, Bran stood up straight and moved his face closer to Alvina.

         "I would love to," he answered.

         This time, it was Alvina who had turned red. With a smile as vibrant as a blaze, Alvina stepped back and bowed. Bran bowed back in response. Tapping their feet, they began moving to the rhythm of the music. Their arms swayed from side to side and then slid onto each other's bodies, like snakes smoothly slithering down a tree.

         Bran's eyes locked with Alvina's. His attention was completely captured by her sapphire eyes, as they sparkled under the shade of darkness and in the light of the bonfire. Hypnotized by her alluring fragrance and golden-like skin, Bran was unable to look away. All other sounds had disappeared from Bran's mind. All that he could hear was the tune of the music and the flames crisply chewing on the wood.

         The bonfire burnt throughout the entire night, never weakening or fading. People danced, people ate. They sang and they drank. Life and vigor consumed the village like drunkenness. In front of the veil of fire, Bran and Alvina danced, never looking away from each other. The night was short, hours turning to minutes and minutes to seconds. Although he knew it was going to end, Bran wished that the night could have lasted forever.
         
         Circling towards one another, Bran found his face inching closer to Alvina's. Her hands gently wrapped near his neck, while her ruby lips glistened with the light of the fire. Gulping, Bran took his hand around her waist and pulled himself closer. Their heads were meters away and their lips were about to finally seal.

         "Taking our time, are we?"