Guardian

The Forest Folk come to play a prophecy in mind and two half-human sisters in their sights

PROLOGUE

An eerie silence meets my ears as I sink, slowly, oh so slowly downwards.  Here I had been, searching for a little piece of paradise, my slice of peace and quiet – and I’ve found it.  At what appears to be the end of my days.

The water calls: ‘come home... come to me...  Tatiana...’

And so I sink.

Down, slowly down.

The coolness of it all enveloping me,

I almost welcome it.

Almost, but not quite,

Something stops me.

Something holds me back...

I can’t quite recall what it is.  A haze clouds my thoughts, blanketing them in whiteness unknown to me.

Thick,

Constant,

There – always there.

A name, it hovers on the tip of my tongue.  And a face, the face of an angel; it floats before me.  With long curly locks and green sparkling eyes.  She’s so pale, so white, except for her red lips.  Red as rubies they part, come together and part again.

She’s trying to tell me something.

‘What is it?’  I try to ask her, but nothing comes out.

I feel my chest grow tighter.  It hurts.  I want it to stop.  I want it to stop!

‘Leave me alone,’ I plead, ‘please, let me be!’

I keep sinking.  It’s such a long way down.

So far,

So deep,

Too deep!

I begin to claw against the water, but it seems to grow thicker and thicker.  I want that girl to come back.  I want her to help me.

‘Help me!’  I plead, ‘please, help me!’

The fog thickens, swirling around in my mind.  I know she’s not coming back now.  I can feel it.

‘Fine,’ I relent.  ‘Take me!  I don’t care!’

And I don’t.  All I want is for the pain to stop.  I want my peace and quiet.  And for some unknown reason, I want that girl!

I sink, no longer fighting it.  A hurried tide pulls my body to and fro.  Tossing me about like a small rag doll on a blustery day, claiming me for its own.

Closing my eyes, I picture that girl again.  So young, so beautiful -

‘And she’ll be so sad,’ a little voice warns in my head, ‘so disappointed.’

I nod weakly, ‘so sad,’ I agree, without really knowing why.

And then I feel it.  Something tugging on my hand, my arm...

I imagine the little angel girl.  She’s come to save me!

The tugging grows stronger.  It’s almost as uncomfortable as the stabbing in my chest.  I try to swat it away but my hand floats uselessly by my side.

I sigh.  Or try.  Inhaling, more water rushes into my lungs, the coldness of it shocking my body.  I give up.  I don’t want to fight it anymore.  I let the inevitable blackness swallow me up.

‘Sorry,’ I think as the face of the angel disappears into the dark, ‘so sorry.’

CHAPTER ONE

The heaviness that hung in the air was tangible – so apparent that it scared me and yet, I couldn’t bring myself to walk away.  We’d been to the lake so many times, for birthdays, parties, on fine summer days and blustery winter days, but today...  It was different.

I didn’t normally swim.  I watched, dangling my feet in the shallows, squelching my toes in the cool mud.  Today, I wouldn’t even do that.  Today, I didn’t even want to be here.  It was only due to my sister’s insistence that I’d even agreed to leave the house.

I watched her, Daisy, as she ran down the grassy slope, her ashen hair trailing out behind her as she went.  Not quite five, she had no idea of the burden she bore.  She was so innocent, so carefree.

“Tati!” she called.  “Come play with me.”  Her pleading warmed my heart.

“Okay,” I said, grinning.  Given I was out of doors, I might as well enjoy it.  I kicked off my patterned slippers and chased her down the slope; laughing at the flying red and gold leaves as they crunched and scattered under our feet.  “Look out!”  I called, “I’m coming!”

I loved the feeling of the wind through my hair.  It was free.  Just like I wished I could be, but that was a dream a long way into the future.  Daisy needed me.  And she would for a while yet.  Back home there were only four servants, Daisy, our ever absent father and me.  I didn’t count the garrison of men who resided in the stone double story building off the courtyard.  They served my father and thus tended to ignore us.  If they didn’t, I made sure we stayed well enough out of their way.  As for our mother, she had run away – spooked by the forests.  Well, that was the official version.  The one that Daisy and I knew.  Though over the years following her departure I’d begun to believe there may have been a far more sinister reason for her leaving.

“Tati,” Daisy called, breathless.  She’d stopped running, tottering on the edge of the lake.  “Tati, why can’t I go swimming today?”

Every time we came down, no matter the season, no matter the weather, Daisy always went in the water and always came out warm.  It was part of who she was.  Part of what she was.  She was a Guardian and a young one at that.

Daisy was born with a gift, or, as our mother had said, a terrible burden.  One day, she would be responsible for the entire forest that surrounded our home.  One day, she would be granted the power to give life and take life away.  It would be her responsibility to maintain the balance of life and death, to ensure peace and harmony within the forest and its surrounds.  The only thing was, the forest had been without a Guardian for nigh on one hundred years and there were some creatures that preferred it that way.  With the forest running wild, with every creature trying to stake their claim and rule what they could, the more dominant found they could govern and control the rest of the forest dwelling folk as they pleased.  It had been far too easy for them to snatch the previous Guardian away.  Her carer had let her mind wander for just a moment to find the girl gone.

All that remained – or so the stories say – was a slight ripple on the lake’s surface.

I couldn’t let that happen to Daisy.  She was a Guardian, and I was her Minder.  But more importantly, we were sisters.  And nothing could break that bond.  I knew, that one day we would have to part, that she would go and live with the Forest Folk.  I could not teach her everything; they must play their role too.  When she was gone, when I was no longer her Minder, I would go back to my normal life, whatever that meant.

“Tati...  I want to swim,” she pleaded again, and I realised that I’d neglected to answer her questions.  She tried to edge closer to the water, but something stopped her.  I’d never really used my gifts with her before.  I’d never really had to, but sometimes, only sometimes, she needed a little helping hand to make the right choices.  Today, she needed to know that the water wasn’t safe.

I don’t know why I felt such apprehension at her going swimming today.  Perhaps it was the unnatural stillness, or the fog that hung so low over the water that you couldn’t see any further than a few paces in front of your feet.  And even then, instead of its usual clear colour, the water was a dark, foreboding inky blue.

“You can’t because… because I can’t come in with you.  You’re only little, Daisy.”  I tried to think quickly for an answer that would satisfy her curiosity without raising any awkward questions.  Hopefully that would do the trick, despite its obvious flaws.

“But you don’t normally come in with me.”  She persisted, as I knew she would, blowing a hole through my argument.  “Besides, I can swim really well.  I’m even better than Kieran, and he’s a whole year older than me!  Please.”  She pouted, her bottom lip quivering.

I sighed.  Kieran was our cousin.  Definitely not a water baby if ever I saw one.  He was all limbs and no coordination.  Just like Loklyan, his brother.  Loklyan was slightly older than I was, and after an ungainly childhood, he had developed into quite a striking young man.  He was an avid hunter, and now, a problem.

“No,” I said, agreeing with her, “Kieran is different, just as Loklyan is different.  We’re all different.”

“But Loklyan is nice.  Kieran is mean,” she said, teasing me.

“That’s because Loklyan is older.”  I sighed, trying to explain.  She was impossible.

“Tell me, please.” she said softly.  Then she sat down, her bare feet splashing in the shallow water.

“Where are your slippers and stockings?”  I asked, hoping to divert her attention.  The last thing I wanted to do was explain to my sister that Loklyan and I were to be married and that he also stood in the way of her becoming a successful Guardian.  It was a predicament and not something I relished, yet Father had made it quite plain.  I could still hear his words, as clear as he was standing before me, and I shuddered. 


Standing before my father, I bowed my head.  My fingers twisted together, nervous.  The only times he and I had been alone together had not been pleasant.  I doubted this meeting would be anything different.  Especially given I knew what he wanted.
Both he and Loklyan had made it so clear, together they had mapped out my foreseeable future.  As I watched Daisy continue to splash her feet in the water, seemingly ignoring me, I felt my mind tug me back into the memory.

Loklyan stood half a step in front of me; his breath carrying a hint of mead.  I tried to move backwards, but he had me pressed flush against the wall.

‘I just want to talk,’ he said, moving ever so slightly closer, ‘Tati; you must know how much I want you...’ his voice was low, husky, dripping with desire.

He always wanted to ‘talk’ and yet when it came to it, talking was always the furthest thing from his mind.

‘Tati,’ he almost crooned my name, ‘Tati, you must see it.’  Slowly, his hand reached up, cupping the side of my face.  I could read the intent in his eyes and I turned my face away.

‘Tati, I love you!’  He spoke in earnest now; moving closer while I cringed away from him.  ‘You must see how our match would benefit our families!  Think of Kieran, think of Daisy...’

I’d done as he’d suggested then, thought of just how hard it would be for Daisy to fulfil her role of Guardianship.  With Loklyan ruling over her, no doubt her forays into the forest would be curbed, and with me married, I would be expected to spend more time tending to my new husband and any possible children than I would my little sister.  I could not marry Loklyan.  Yet he didn’t seem to get it.

‘Just think about it,’ he insisted, ‘think of us.’  And while I slowly came back from my thoughts, he pushed me firm against the rough stone wall.  I gasped as a jagged edge bit into my back; he ignored me, too intent on making the most of the situation.  His callused hands groped under my skirt, inching it upwards as his lips crushed mine in a bruising kiss.

I struggled under him, trying to push him back, but he was so strong; too strong.  ‘Please,’ I begged him as he lifted my skirt level with my thighs, ‘please don’t.’

I had been on the verge of screaming, of crying; anything that could have spared me.  I had thought myself lost until Daisy, with impeccable timing, called out searching for me.

I’d never felt more indebted to my sister.

But later that afternoon, as I stood, facing my father, I could most certainly have done with some more of her more perfect timing.

‘I wish you to marry Loklyan,’ he snapped, glowering at me from behind a pile of mismatched papers.

He hadn’t even greeted me with a ‘hello’ or ‘how are you,’ but with my father, I guess I ought not to have been surprised.

‘I can’t,’ I said, standing strong under his piercing gaze, ‘I won’t.’

‘You will,’ he said again.  His eyes narrowed as he stood, taking a step around the desk that separated the two of us.  ‘You will, or you will get out,’ he snarled, preparing to deliver the final blow, ‘and you will leave Daisy with me.  I will see that she instead ties the two of our families together.  You just watch me you insolent wench!’

‘I-’ I stammered.  Flinching as he took another step toward me, his eyes icy and full of hatred.

‘I thought as much, no fight in you.  You’re as stupid as your mother, weak woman that she was.  She couldn’t even give me an heir before she left’

I’d frozen, I could not reply; to hear him discount not only myself but Daisy as well in such a manner was the epitome of lows.  Yes, my mother had given him two daughters and not his long desired son, but we were still his children, still his flesh and blood.  Yet to him, we meant nothing. 

‘You will marry Loklyan,’ he said again, ‘won’t you?’

I nodded, ‘yes, Father.  I will.’

It was the hardest thing I’d had to do.


“-so you see, I decided to leave them back by the tree.”  I hadn’t realised that Daisy had begun to answer me; I hadn’t even noticed that she had left the water, but I was glad. For once, my diversion tactics seemed to have worked.

“You strange little girl,” I said playfully, pretending that I had indeed been paying attention, “come on, we shall fetch them.”
I offered my hand and she took it.  For now, she was trusting; she’d do nearly anything I asked without a single question, but only for now.  I knew that it wouldn’t last too long.  And when Loklyan began his official courting, things would become even harder.


It had been a week since my confrontation with Father, and I had been avoiding him ever since.  As a result, I had scarcely been at home for anyone, let alone Loklyan, to call upon me.  But I couldn’t avoid him forever.  Soon enough, the weather would turn and both Daisy and I would be stuck inside.

I grimaced at that thought.  Seeing more of him was not something I was looking forward too.  He would undoubtedly only want to have more ‘private discussions’ and my father would most likely not even object – not that he had in the first place – but now he had the marriage papers he was even less likely to care.  Too soon, it would all be official.

***

“Tati,” Daisy chirped, “Tati, can we go and visit Kieran, please?”

“No,” I replied, too quickly and much too sharply, the memory of Loklyan still fresh in my mind.  The forest didn’t help, Loklyan and I had spent many days of our childhood roaming the grassy hills and scaling the towering trees.  We had been near inseparable.

“Why not,” she whinged, “I’ll be good, I promise.”  She withdrew her hand from mine, stopping mid stride.  “I promise I will be, Tati.”

“We can’t today,” I explained gently, “Father expects us home early.”  It wasn’t a complete lie.  I could still feel where he’d grabbed my arm earlier this morning after we’d announced our impromptu trip, ‘you be home early,’ he’d hissed in my ear, his breath hot and uncomfortable, ‘we’ll be having visitors, I need you both presentable.’

Our father never entertained others willingly.  There always had to be something in it for him, something to gain.  Last week it had been Loklyan, who knew whom else he had queued up at the door, waiting...

“But -” she started to protest.

“No.”  I started walking again and then paused.  Daisy had a quiet tread when she moved through the forest but even so, I could generally hear her as she crunched a leaf or snapped a tiny twig.  There was silence.

“Come on,” I called, impatient at her dawdling pace, “Daisy, we have to go, now!’  I turned, expecting to see her where she’d stopped but she wasn’t there.  “Daisy…”  I scanned the dense foliage, searching for any trace of her dark hair amongst the greens and golds of the surrounding trees.  My stomach twisted with unease.  Surely she was just hiding, she couldn’t be gone, they couldn’t have taken her…

“Daisy,” I called, more urgently now, “please, come out!”

I heard her before I saw her.  Tiny little sobs, like her small heart had been shattered.  The tight band around my own loosened.  Not gone, safe.  Upset, but safe.  I followed the sound around a vast prickly shrub; wincing as several small barbs lodged themselves in my shoulder.

“There you are,” I said softly, “What’s wrong?”

She pointed one quivering finger at the woodland elf at her feet.  He lay pale and still before her, his little red cap clutched in his motionless hand.  It matched the colour of the seeping pool that had spread from under him.

No wonder she was upset.  Every death that befalls the Forest Folk, she felt as a personal loss.  There was a tale that told of a previous Guardian who had once asked the forest people to go into battle for her.  She had wanted to spare the lives of her husband and sons, but gave little thought to the loss of life of the Forest Folk.  Thereafter, every time one of the forest was slain, she was consumed with grief and guilt.  Eventually, if had been too much for her and she’d thrown herself off the second storey balcony of her home – of our home.  Her death solved nothing, the forest dwellers still perished and her family were dealt another cruel blow as they now had to mourn her death too.  Apparently, every Guardian after her was then afflicted with the added burden of feeling deep sorrow at every unnatural death that befell one of the Forest Folk.

I wrapped my arms around my sister’s tiny waist, “It’s okay,” I whispered, “everything will be okay.”

I didn’t show her the broken end of the arrow that had pierced this creature’s noble heart, nor point out to her the coloured feathers that marked the arrow as Loklyan’s.

“Why did he have to die?” she sobbed, burying her head against my shoulder, “I’m sure he was a nice elf.  Don’t you think he looked like a nice elf, Tati?”

“I’m sure he was,” I soothed, picking her up.  As much as I wanted to give the elf a proper burial, I knew that unless Daisy and I returned home soon, it may be us in need of farewelling.

Cradling her in my arms, I began the long and windy trek back home.  Daisy continued to sob quietly into the shoulder of my gown.  I would need to change it before I encountered Father, otherwise it would raise too many awkward questions.

As the path steepened, I caught glimpses of other Forest Folk.  Under one tree, an old crone smiled toothily up at me and by a rotund shrub stood a dwarf of similar stature who bowed as we walked past.  I returned each acknowledgement, each gesture of kindness with a nod or a fleeting smile of my own.  It was enough, and one by one just as they appeared, they melted back into the dense undergrowth.