Guardian Fall Chapter 3

Chapter 3
Uncertain Success

         If Bran were a god and his tears and sweat were the rain from the heavens, then the entire world would have been submerged underwater.


          Bran was having difficulty choosing whether he appreciated Marcus's so-called help, or hated it more than anything else. Marcus's training was no walk in the woods. Each day felt like struggling against the current of a river, while a herd of buffalo were charging right at your direction. Never before had Bran felt so exhausted. Even his own uncle had never asked him to do anything so grueling.

         Since day one of Marcus's training, Bran found his body covered in purple bruises and red marks. Layers of bandages were often wrapped around his hands and feet. How he managed to stay on his toes was either a mystery that he couldn't solve, or another miracle that was graced upon him.

         There was one thing that Bran enjoyed, however. At the end of each practice, Alvina would visit with some food and ointment, used to alleviate whatever pained his body. Although the ointment wasn't completely effective most of the times, having Alvina there to check on him was enough to put his body and mind at ease.

         Like the transition of seasons, changes in the village were evident. Several young men and women were more active for work. Before the sun rose, they would leave their homes and then return when the stars dominate the skies.

         It was midday in the fields. Bran, Marcus and a few others had occupied the fields for their practice and training. Voices shouts across the fields, accompanied by the sound of whacking wood and pounding flesh. Everyone had bruises around their bodies. Only their faces were spared from any marks or cuts. Crows perched on the nearby trees, deceived into believing that they would have a free meal any time soon.

         On a plot of land, Bran readied his rattan sticks, while Marcus faced him with one.

         "Attack!" Marcus ordered. He struck his stick on the ground, making a snap like thunder.

         Thrusting forward, Bran released a fury of blows. Marcus successfully blocked every strike launched against him. Then, spotting an opening, he reached out and grabbed Bran's wrist. Gathering his strength, Marcus lifted Bran over his head and threw him on the opposite side.

         Bran landed on his nape and bounced off the ground. He rolled back to his feet, finding everything spin for a second. Shaking his head, Bran turned his sight back to Marcus, who charged in and attacked. Extending his hand once again, Marcus grabbed Bran's arm and started twisting it, forcing him to release his weapon.

         Bran could feel his wrist bone slowly unlocking. With no choice, Bran aimed his other rattan stick at Marcus's face and lunged for an eye.

         Marcus rocked his head back, dodging the stick at a hair's length. Releasing Bran from his grip, Marcus stepped back and waited for Bran to get back on his feet.
         "I never taught you to do things like that," Marcus noted, giving a smirk. "Keep it up."

         No reply was given. Shaking his wrist, Bran held up his weapons and launched himself for another attack. The training continued. Bran fought and moved around the field, kicking the dust and dirt around his feet.

         The exchange continued, until their training was interrupted by a sudden yell. Everyone heard it. Stopping their training, they faced the direction of the voice and saw boy. He ran through the field, passing several people, while flapping his arms and yelling the same thing over and over.

         "They're here, they're here!" the boy yelled. "The Guardians are at the village!"

         No one said anything. The expressions on their faces told everything. Without a word, they begun running to the village. Bran and Marcus followed after them.

         Everyone gathered around the Datu's house. There, five warriors rode on horses, rare four-legged creatures of the land. They were all dressed in yellow clothes with intricate black patterns. Each one carried a golden weapon with them.

         "Villagers, I am Dakila Sur, one of the Guardians!" one of the five announced in a deep voice. He was the largest of the lot. "We have come, under the command of the Hornet Empress Maharlika, looking for new members of our great and holy order!

         The entire village began chattering with excitement. None of them knew the process of qualification or membership. This would be the first time they would witness how someone would be chosen into the Guardians.

         Before speaking any further, Dakila Sur raised his hand and shushed the people. "I know you are all excited, as we are," the old man chuckled with a cough. "However, we have just returned from a long journey and wish to take some rest. Once we have, we will begin the tests."

         Dakila Sur and the other four entered the Datu's house for rest. The village warriors stood next to the door, guarding the house. Everyone dispersed and either returned home our visited another's house. No one left the village.

         Chills were felt throughout the entire village, as everyone continued to gossip about what they were expecting, what they had seen and what they were to see.

         "So those were the Guardians," Marcus said to Bran. "They didn't look that much to me. I thought they'd be on elephants, while dressed in golden armor."

         "They're a humble order that doesn't need to look flashy," Bran replied. "Anyway, did you see their weapons?"

         "Those were weapons?" Marcus asked. "I thought those were just trinkets they kept to show off."

         "No, those were undoubtedly weapons," Bran said, clenching his fists with excitement. "I bet they grant them great strength and unique powers!"

         "You're sounding like a child again," Marcus said, as he shook his head and sighed. "Anyway, you'll find out what they actually are, when you become a Guardian. For now, just concentrate on the test that they would give."

         "So, shall we continue training?" Bran suggested.

         "No, it's best for you to rest right now," Marcus said. "Come, let's get something to eat."

         Marcus brought Bran over to a house. Just outside the house stood a long table, where food was being freely served to anyone who was hungry or just wanted to eat.

         "What's the occasion?" Bran asked

         "The family has been cooking and freely serving food, in order to celebrate the day of the Guardian's arrival," Marcus answered. "They've been doing this since morning."

         Other people were also there, stuffing their faces with the selection of food lined up on the table. Fish was the main ingredient of the served dishes. Almost every leaf and bowl had a fish. There was grilled fish stuffed with tomatoes and onions, dried fish, fish soup, and fish dipped in sweetened sauce. The only thing missing was a fish cake.

         Bran irked a bit at the sight of selection. He wasn't a very big fan of fish dishes. He hated having to remove all the bones. Even when it appeared that he did, he would at times find a small bone pricking the inside of his mouth, like a pin. Regardless for his dislike for fish, he did enjoy the one dipped in sauce and found himself getting a second serving.

         As the two ate, someone approached Bran from behind.

         "Aren't you having the time of your life?" someone said.

         The voice was too familiar to ignore. Putting down the piece of fish that he was about to gobble, Bran turned around and met his darling angel, Alvina, standing behind him. The other young men at the table suddenly froze when they saw her as well.

         "A-Alvina, what a pleasant surprise!" Bran said. Despite having been with her for the entire month, Bran still had difficulty talking with her. "S-so, what are you doing here?"

         "I'm helping with the cooking," Alvina replied. "I do live here, after all."

         Alvina looked down at Bran's plate and noticed that he had only been eating the sweetened fish.

         "You should take more of this, instead," Alvina said, taking the bowl of fish soup. "Meat is good, but you should also take some vegetables. They may not taste as manly, but they are good for you."

         "T-thanks," Bran said, as he pushed the sweetened fish away.

         "Good luck, I'll be cheering on for you," Alvina smiled.

         She then took a few of the empty plates and returned inside the house to continue helping her parents make the food.

         As soon as she left, Bran then turned to Marcus, who sat beside him, picking some fish from his teeth, as if he hadn't seen anything.

         "Did you bring me here, because Alvina lived here?" Bran whispered a sneer.

         "How do you not know who lives here?" Marcus whispered back. "This is the house of one of the village's finest warriors! Not to mention, you've been ogling her for years and you never knew where she lived? The village isn't that big and the houses aren't all that similar!"

         Before the conversation could go any further, Bran noticed a number of eyes around the table, staring and sneering right at him. It was at that point that Bran had just remembered one important fact. He wasn't the only one who liked Alvina. All those who stared at him were green to the bone. One person even began twisting the end of his knife on the fish he had.

         Lowering his voice and head, Bran began sipping the soup that was given to him. Unfortunately, this made things a bit worse.



         The test was to begin shortly. Everyone gathered to watch event. Four of the Guardians sat quietly as spectators, while Dakila Sur stood as the tester.

         Counting all of the participants, Dakila Sur requested that they formed six lines with about five people in each line. The formed lines were rather messy. Some of the taller stood in front, while the shorter participants were stuck in the back. There was no structure or pattern to the formation of any of these lines, but Dakila Sur didn't really care. As long as there were six lines with the maximum of five people, he was satisfied.

         Bran was the third person in the sixth row. Looking back, he saw Marcus, Alvina and his uncle watching with the other chatting spectators, who sat behind them. Sweat poured down from Bran's face, all the way to his toes, making a puddle. His teeth clattered and his body quivered, as if he were being blown by a cool breeze, just after getting out of cool water.

         Dakila Sur brought out two items before the crowd of people. One was a long sword, which he planted onto the ground and the other was a basket that he kept to himself.

         "Everyone, may we have order?!" Dakila Sur bellowed. Everyone fell into an abrupt silence. "This will be a grand day for your village! Today, you have honored us with your hospitality and showed us that our many years of protecting this land, has brought prosperity to you all!"

         The villagers immediately responded with a powerful cheer and applause.

         "Despite our abilities to protect and guide these lands, you must all remember that the Guardians are still human and that we are still vulnerable to the power of time," Dakila Sur continued. "For this reason, a new generation must come forth and share our burden!"

         "Do not despair if none of you are chosen! For it would mean that your life has much greater value and purpose without the cup that we must fill!"

         "Now, allow me to explain how you may qualify to become a Guardian!" Dakila Sur started. "Each person shall take two tests. The first test is the test of burden."

         Reaching for the sword's handle, Dakila pulled the blade out of the ground with the simplest of ease, as if it were a stick jabbed into the dirt.

         "This sword shall determine if you have the strength and willpower to become one of the Guardians," Dakila Sur explained, as he released the handle. The sword fell back down, its blade plunging deeper, while causing cracks around it. "Whoever can pull out this sword will instantly become worthy of being a Guardian!"

         Next, Dakila Sur turned to the basket in his hands. "The second test will just be a simple one of measurement," Dakila Sur explained. "Inside this basket is a transforming spirit. When the spirit leaves the basket, it will emerge as an opponent that would be the most difficult for you to face, with your current level of strength."

         Most of the contestants gulped with anxiety. Bran was one of them. The second test was just a formality, but the first test was the one that immediately determined his worth. Looking at his hands, Bran knew that he didn't have the physical power to properly lift anything. What if he couldn't even make it move an inch? Bran was getting cold feet and his legs were starting move on their own, as if his body were trying to get him out of the line.

         Steeling his senses, Bran stood firmly and stomped his foot on the puddle of sweat he created. This was a very rare opportunity and he did not want to waste it.

         "Now, let us begin!" Dakila Sur said. "May the first participant step forward!"

         Things weren't off to a good start. No one from the first line had succeeded in pulling out the sword or even nudging it from the spot. Three remained cool, one began crying and the last one started begging for another chance, but was dragged away before he could start kissing Dakila Sur's feet.

         However, things started looking brighter when the second person of the second line was given his turn. Hiram had joined in hopes of achieving what the others wanted. Using both hands, Hiram started pulling the sword out of the ground, his face went purple and his veins bulged under his skin. The entire village shook their fists and cheered for him to succeed. Then, with a final tug, he plunged the blade out of the earth and lifted it high above his head.

         Cheers and claps thundered throughout the villagers, as they discovered the new Guardian that came from their little village.

         Hiram then stepped forth for the second test. Removing the lid, Dakila Sur placed the basket on the ground and waited. The spirit emerged. An arm reached out of the basket and then pulled the rest of the body out. Out of the basket, appeared a giant of a man with rock-like muscles, scars all over his face, several missing teeth and a bitten ear. The man gave a pounding roar, which sent Hiram off his feet.

         
         The spirit was then sucked back into the basket like a noodle and Dakila Sur immediately placed the lid back on the basket. This was the kind of enemy that would have been difficult for Hiram, at the moment.

         Despite appearing stunned, Hiram got back up and stood right beside Dakila Sur, as the first accepted recruit. The whole village cheered vigorously. Though Bran was never that close to Hiram, he found himself jumping on the spot with his fists pumping in the air.

         The test continued. Right after Hiram, another person pulled out the sword. It was a young woman. Her current greatest enemy was a lean man who carried a pair of swords and a number of knives. The transformed spirit swung the blades around like a mantis and then disappeared back into the basket.

         Following the young woman were a number of rejected participants. Many couldn't pull out the sword and few were able. The various enemies that popped from the basket were unique. Some were like Hiram's, while others turned into monsters and beasts such as ogres or false beasts.

         Soon, it was Bran's turn. Looking over to Dakila Sur, he saw the number of accepted. Including Hiram, there were about six who had become young Guardians. Now, it was Bran's turn to prove himself to all others.

         "You could do it!" Marcus from the crowds cheered.

         "Go Bran!" Alvina joined in.

         "Come on Bran show them that you've got it in you!" Amon yelled.

         More sweat pooled from Bran's forehead. The encouragement felt much more like pressure, as if he were being completely expected to lift the sword from the spot. Taking a deep breath, Bran reached out to grab the handle.

         What followed was something that no one, not even Dakila Sur or the other Guardians could have expected. Just as he was about to touch the handle, the sword suddenly lifted itself from the spot and sprung away from Bran, as if it didn't want to be touched by him.

         The basket behind Bran began to quiver as well. Bouncing out off Dakila Sur's hands, the basket landed on the ground and spat out the lid off the top. The spirit emerged and revealed the most difficult enemy that Bran would face, with his present abilities.

         Before Bran was a woman clad in obsidian and golden armor. Four, large, dove-like wings sprouted from her back. In one hand, she carried a golden spear and in the other was a golden shield. Raising the spear the woman thrust her weapon before Bran. But before it could pierce his heart, the spirit was sucked back into the basket.

         What happened? Bran asked himself, as he stood up. The other question that rang in his head was whether he passed or failed.
         
         Silence filled the area, like a cemetery. No one moved. No one spoke. Marcus, Alvina and Amon stood with the spectators, unsure what to say or do. Even the Guardians appeared dumbstruck, as they looked at one another.

         Passing the basket, Dakila Sur approached Bran, took his wrist and then lifted it high in the air.

         "Behold!" Dakila Sur announced. "The best of the new generation has been discovered from your village!"

         Upon hearing those words, the entire village sprung off their feet and cheered with the roaring might of a tiger. Marcus and Alvina joined the crowd, as they threw their necklaces in the air. Amon grabbed the person nearest to him and pointed at Bran, exclaiming that he was his nephew.

         Basking in the glory, Bran lifted his head and raised his arms. Light from the sun shined down upon him, while a cool breeze brushed through his hair. He had passed the test and was now considered a young Guardian. He was now a step closer to achieving his dream of becoming a champion of the sacred order.

         However, although he raised his head and appeared proud, Bran couldn't resist the feeling that etched at the back of his neck. Looking at the other four Guardians, he found them whispering to one another. Turning to the sword and basket, he found the two objects trembling, as if they were afraid of something. Yes, he was going be a Guardian, but was this victory something that he really should have been happy about?