Guardian Fall Chapter 7

Chapter 7
Villain

          For the rest of the day, Bran practiced the same technique over and over. The tingling feeling from the staff grew stronger with each try, but Bran wasn't able to do anything that could have made anyone's eyes pop out.

         Night soon came upon the land and Bran was treated to another fantastic meal. He ate to his heart's content, constantly filling his plated servings. After dinner, he had another warm bath. Fortunately, he was allowed to bathe himself.

         It was dark in his room. Light from the crystals had faded, allowing shadows and darkness to engulf the room.

         Under his blankets, Bran found himself twisting and turning, looking for a comfortable position to rest on. Heat swarmed around his body, like a swarm of hornets, making him sweat like a pig.

         No matter how many times Bran threw himself, he was unable to find a suitable sleeping position. In fact, Bran found himself as awake as ever, as if he were anxiously waiting for something to strike him. No matter how long or how tightly he shut his eyes, he found his mind racing with life and fervour.

         Why couldn't he fall asleep? He practiced the entire day, was given a full and decent meal and also had a relaxing bath. So what was keeping awake?

         Turning to the side, Bran saw the moon and stars hanging in the sky. Night in Dalaket wasn't that different from his world, apparently. Upon thinking about the night sky, it struck him. Why he couldn't fall asleep. This was the first night he was sleeping away from his village.

         Looking at the moon, he started seeing faces of his uncle, Marcus and Alvina. How were they doing? Were they safe? Were the Guardians still in the village? Soon, he began to think of Hiram and the other six chosen. What happened to them? Bran's stomach began to churn at their fate. There may be a day that he would have to cross blades with them.

         Snarling aloud, Bran threw off his blanket and reached to the side of his mat. He grabbed a small crystal that lay beside him. Pressing his nails upon the crystal, he slowly scratched the surface, making a screech that could have made his eardrums bleed. Bran shivered and gritted his teeth, as he made the sound.

         Light began to glow from the crystal, as he slowly scratched it. Apparently, this was how all the crystals worked in the mansion. To either ignite or extinguish light, they had to scratch the surface and make that ear paining noise.

         Leaving his room, Bran stalked the hallways, hoping that his mind would drift and his eyelids would grow heavy.

         Darkness dominated through the mansion. Light from the crystals were all extinguished. Even with the fragment in his hand, Bran had trouble watching his next step. Silence filled the hallway, only being cut by the sound of Bran's footsteps and few creaking noises. Perhaps wandering around the mansion at this time wasn't the best idea.

         Shivers ran down his spine, as his heart rattled buzzing hive. He half expected a face covered in blood to suddenly appear from the shadows, or a pale hand to grab his shoulders from behind.

         As he wandered around, Bran suddenly felt a cold puff of air breathe against his neck. Stiffening like a cat, Bran stood petrified. His eyes rotated to the side, hoping that he would get a glimpse of what was behind him, without having to turn his head. His vision failed to reach so far. Swallowing deeply, Bran took a deep breath, closed his eyes and spun around, pointing the crystal in the air.

         Opening one eye, he found nothing in the darkness. He gave a deep sigh, as his heart began to settle down.

         "Night time in these hallways has gotten you a little jittery, hasn't it?" a voice asked.

         "Yes, quite a-," Bran's eyes jolted open, as he looked to his side. A white face with shadows planted under the eyes smiled right at him.

         Bran opened his mouth and got ready to scream out his very soul. However, before he could make a sound, a hand reached out and took his wrist, while another one thrust out and covered his lips for a second.

         As the hand pulled back from his mouth, Bran tried to scream again. However, only low murmurs were heard. In fact, he couldn't even open his mouth wide or stick out his tongue. Tapping his face, Bran found his lips missing and his mouth gone. Nothing, but skin was in place. He could still feel his teeth, but he couldn't feel an opening.

         Upon realizing this, Bran dropped his crystal and began scratching the area where his mouth was, while ruggedly breathing through his nostrils.

         "Calm down," the voice said.

         Bran recognized the voice. Picking up the crystal, he pointed it upward and found Wiyana standing before him. In the palm of her hand, Bran saw a pair of lips.

         "I'm going to give this back now," Wiyana said. "When I do, do not scream. Do you understand?"

         Bran nodded.

         Thrusting her palm against his face, Wiyana returned Bran's mouth. Bran took a deep breath and pressed his lips, checking if it was placed properly. He then looked crossly at Wiyana.

         "What's wrong?" she asked.

         "What's wrong?!" Bran repeated. "What were you doing, sneaking up on me?!"

         "Please lower your tone. You'll wake everyone up," Wiyana replied. "You were such easy prey that I couldn't resist."

         "Couldn't resist?!" repeated Bran again.

         "Keep that up and I may just take your mouth away, again," Wiyana said, holding up her hand.

         Bran sewed his lips shut and grumbled. Just what was with this woman? Figuring her out was far more difficult than he had thought.

         "So, why are you walking around my hallways, this late at night?" she asked.

         "I couldn't sleep," Bran replied. "I thought I'd walk around, hoping to get drowsy."

         "You're worried about your village, aren't you?" Wiyana said. Bran didn't respond. "Don't worry about them. As I said, the Guardians won't touch them. They're safe, as long as you're not with them."

         "I know that," Bran said, his mind then shifting over to the Guardians. Although it was late and Bran didn't want to stick his foot too deep into the topic, he couldn't help, but find his mind overwhelmed with sheer curiosity. "Um... Mistress... Tita... Ate...?"

         "Just call me Wiyana," she said. "NEVER call me Tita or Ate."

         "Well... Wiyana," Bran started, trying to adapt to the single name. "Why do you need me to fight against the Guardians and the Hornet Empress?"

         "They tried to kill you and you still defend them?" Wiyana replied.

         "Even if that were a reason to challenge them, it would be MY reason," Bran said. "What I want to know is YOUR reason for going against them."

         Wiyana went silent for a while. Suddenly, she raised her hand and reached out. Bran held his arms and covered his eyes, expecting to be struck. Her hand soon reached him, but there was no pain. Opening his eyes, he found her hand gently placed upon his shoulder.

         "Fighting against your heroes must be quite difficult for you," Wiyana said. "Come with me, perhaps I can do something to alleviate your troubles."

         Bran followed Wiyana to one of the rooms. Igniting the gems, Bran found himself in the room shelved with parchments. Again, Bran couldn't help, but feel a sense of awe at what he was seeing. So many manuscripts and pieces were stored. Just what was written in these papers?

         Reaching to one of the shelves, Wiyana pointed her finger at the parchments and scrolls and scanned her finger through each of them. Whispers were seen coming from her lips. Bran was unable to decipher a single word that she was trying to say. After sliding her fingers passed several papers, she finally picked a parchment and pulled it out of the shelf.

         A thin layer of dust covered the dust. Brushing a bit of dust off the surface, Wiyana passed the parchment over to Bran.

         "What is this?" Bran asked.

         "Read it," Wiyana replied. "You can read, can't you?"

         "Of course," Bran said, as he took the parchment.

         The parchment had a cover of petrified wood. It felt ready to dissolve into dust, if pressed too hard. Taking care, Bran opened to the first page. Upon flipping the cover, Bran's eyes jolted open, when he saw the title, boldly written at the center top of the paper.

THE GUARDIANS

         Firmly gripped, the parchment trembled in Bran's fingers, as if he were trying to rip the collection with a single move. Bran turned to Wiyana with a gaping mouth, so wide that an entire potato could have been shoved right in. He uttered incomplete words and sounds, trying to ask her a question.

         "It is what it seems," Wiyana nodded, as she took out a few more parchments from the shelf. "Here are the other volumes of the Guardians. I want you to have then. You're free to take then to your room and keep them there, if you wish."

         "T-thank you!" Bran said, as he took the five other parchments. Though he spoke like a frightened cat, inside he was jumping around like a faithful dog that has been reunited with its owner.

         Bran and Wiyana then left the room and returned to their quarters. Once in his room, Bran began to skim through the first few pages, reading fervently about the origin of the Guardians and about the original individuals who first carried the name. He read and read, until he finally stopped at the twentieth page, where he finally fell asleep.

         During the next days, Bran spent most of his time practicing how to use his magic and reading the parchments that were given to him. Whenever he had free time, he would corner himself in the room and just read.

         The parchments explained about who the Guardians were, where they received their might and about those who helped them. Each Guardian was described so vividly, Bran was able to easily capture images of these individuals and their actions. Bran's heart raced with each word that he passed. His eyes couldn't get enough of what was before him. He read the parchments with such intrigue, that his eyes were practically touching the paper and ink. It has been such a long time since he was so touched.

         Bran read about Guardians such as Jason the Just, Rika the Righteous, Corinth the Courageous and Argos the Avenger. Villains and aides were also written in the parchments, but with almost no detail about them. Curious to know not only about the heroes, Bran frequently returned to the room of scrolls and parchments to look up their names and their deeds. In due time, Bran learned that the room was called a library and also learned how each scroll and parchment was placed.

         Also mentioned in the parchments were the four holy swords that each Guardian generation wielded, in order to defeat their foe and bring peace to the land.

         One afternoon, just before lunch, Bran was in his room, reading the final volume that Wiyana had originally gave him.

         The current subject was about how the Four Guardians: Gideon, Rolex, Sandara and Alvin stopped Cortes the Conqueror from invading the kingdom of Ignacio.

         After reading the denouement, Bran lay back and took a deep breath. The strings in his heart fiddled a gentle tune. Another great story had just ended. Looking at the parchment, Bran found that there were still a number of pages left. Flipping through them, Bran found most of them blank and empty.

         Returning to the last page he read, Bran read on.

         This may be the final entry to the story of the Guardians, I will write. At the very least, I will not sully their great legend, by filling the rest of these pages with filth that is to come next.

         Bran's head bobbed with surprise. What did this mean? Bran read the next paragraph.

         The true Guardians are no more. All that remains is an order of greed and deceit. Peace had befallen the kingdom of Ignacio and there currently wasn't any need for new Guardians. However, this new order was created.

         A new order composing of various warriors and soldiers were brought together, in order to maintain peace and prosperity across the kingdom. Since the beginning, there have only been four TRUE Guardians. Despite this, I at first had no qualms and decided them to try and maintain the order, until the next generation was called.

         Originally, things were smooth. These new Guardians were simply protectors who aided those in need. However, poison soon seeped into the order. An evil known as "Greed" and "Pride" entered the order and corrupted its very core.

         These 'people' had no interest in protecting the kingdom and its inhabitants, but rather to bask in the fame and glory that their predecessors were known for.

         I prayed and hoped that they would eventually be expelled, but things only got worse. As the years passed, they rose in rank and even became heads in the order. To make things much worse, they began organizing activities to boost their statuses. They would capture monsters and even hire brigands and unleash upon the innocents and then slay them, to play the hero.

         Many innocents from within and outside the kingdom have already died from their abuse of power and desire for reputation. People of the kingdom are being scared into believing that they are completely needed, while those outside are being destroyed, in order to create the facade that the safest place is under the Guardians' wing.

         Only a few good men and women exist in this order, but they do nothing to make any changes. I dare not tarnish these scriptures any further with the stories of selfishness these so-called Guardians do any more. I will continue to write about the, but not as Guardians. I am both saddened and angered with what this once proud and noble name has been turned into.

         The papers fell from Bran's fingers and crashed to the floor, denting the cover and a few of the pages. His jaw hung, as his heart nearly stopped.

         Standing up quietly, Bran started circling around his room. Biting his thumb, he waltzed around and breathed ruggedly, as a collage of emotions danced in his head. Pulling his hair, Bran started uttering low-pitched mumbled of disbelief. Then all of a sudden, like a smoking volcano, Bran burst out into rage.

         "LIES!" he yelled, as he punched the wall. "These are all lies! They can't be true!"

         Bran jabbed his fists against the wall, until they began to bleed. Losing power, Bran slowly dropped to the ground and glared at the papers on the floor.

         "What's going on here?" Wiyana suddenly entered the room. A few servants peeked passed the door, as well. She found Bran sitting against the wall with the parchment on the floor. Picking it up, she turned to the page that he read. "I see, so you've read it."

         "Over five centuries," Bran began. "Gideon, Sandara, Rolex and Alvin were Guardians from over five centuries ago!"

         "This must be a little hard for you," Wiyana said.

         "A little?!" Bran snapped. "A little hard would be trying to recover from tasting Salamander Berries! I've been telling stories about the ones the people from this new order! I told them to friends and even children! I practically worshipped them! I think this is MORE than a little hard."

         "Look, I can understand what you're going through-,"

         "No you can't!" Bran yelled. "Don't you get it? These people were my heroes! I adored them so much that I even considered leaving home and expand their legend outside of the kingdom. I had every desire to join them! What could you possibly understand?!"

         Wiyana frowned. Stomping towards Bran, she picked him up and then threw him right across the room. Bran landed upside down, under the window. The present servants gasped and trembled, uncertain whether they should remain or attempt to restrain their mistress.

         "Let me tell you something, boy!" Wiyana hissed. "I did not spend several ages of my life simply recording the events that took place. They were also heroes in my eyes! I wrote down EVERYTHING about the Guardians and learned all that I could learn about them. I wrote about their strengths, weaknesses, fears, desires and even sins! To me, they were beacons in a dark, dark world! Don't you DARE tell me that I don't understand the feeling!"

         Bran sat back up. "If you cared so much, then why didn't you stop them?!" he yelled. "Instead of staying here, why didn't you prevent this sham?!"

         "Do you think I wish to simply turn a blind eye to this!? Do you think for a moment that I am not disgusted with what they're doing to the Four Holy Swords?!" Wiyana continued.

         "The Four Holy Swords?" Bran said, in a jumpy tone. "The original weapons of the Guardians?! What have they done to them?"

         "The Four Holy Swords are weapons that can only be used by real Guardians, as in chosen ones," she continued. "Although no one, at the moment, can use these swords, their power and energy can be harnessed and used to create other weapons. I fear that this misuse is slowly corrupting the swords, dampening their power."

         "If I could actually do something, about it, then I would have, but I can't," said Wiyana. "We Dalaketnon are forbidden from meddling in your affairs! I can't do anything, but you can!"

         "Me, what can I do?!" Bran said.

         "Your Psychomancy is the key," Wiyana answered. "With Psychomancy, you can place a curse of madness upon the Four Holy Swords. That curse will affect everyone, except the next REAL Guardians."

         Hearing this, Bran fell silent. Bowing his head, he gave a small smile and then laughed with a volume that was heard echoing through the halls and a voice like an animal.

         "So that's why I was brought," he laughed. "You need me as part of your scheme to weaken the current Guardians, is that it? That won't erase everything they have done!"

         Approaching Bran, Wiyana lifted him up by his collar and pulled his face close to hers.

         "Those swords are the very last remnants of the real Guardians," she said. "While doing this cannot erase what has happened, I will not allow them to further desecrate those weapons!"

         Bran looked into Wiyana's eyes and saw a fire burn as bright as the sun. Her eyes were firm and steady, as if they were stuck to spot. Not a single hint of hesitation or regret was spotted from her glance, or even the tone of her voice. Looking into her eyes, Bran felt as if he were staring right at a ferocious beast, ready to pounce and seize its prey.

         Admiration wasn't a strong enough word to describe how Bran felt about the Guardians. He used to stay up all night and listen to his uncle tell stories about them, especially the really old ones.

         "Am I really the only one who can do this?" Bran asked.

         "Your magic is the only power that can truly keep the swords' sacred strength out of the hands of the corrupt," Wiyana replied, as she released Bran.

         Looking down, Bran took a deep breath. Thinking about it, what choice did he even have? He was now working for Wiyana, to keep his village safe.

         Despite all that was revealed, Bran still had difficulty accepting the task of challenging the Guardians, even if they had become corrupt. He admired the Guardians and wanted to join them and their legend. However, Wiyana did have a point.

         Clenching his fist, Bran looked straight into Wiyana's pupils with a glare so sharp that he could have seen past her pupils.

         "I still believe that the Guardians are a force of good and protection," Bran said. "However, I also believe that they have strayed from the truth and must be returned to what was originally intended. If I have to take up the mantle of the villain, then so be it. Even if the kingdom hates me, I will do it. I will become the first villain who strikes a blow and defeats the sacred order of the Guardians."