Chapter Two: The First Rule

"All right, tell me everything you know about…that woman over there."

"The one in the blue sweater?"

"Yes, you idiot."

"Well to start with Kai, she's wearing a blue sweater—"

With a sickening crunch Kai's fist slammed into Tyson's jaw, adding another bruise to a face that was quickly beginning to look like a badly abused plum. Max hastily began rattling off details about the woman while trying to heal Tyson's latest injury with magic.

"She's a young, blonde haired woman—Tyson stop moving—with blue eyes, probably between twenty to—it doesn't work if you fidget, you dolt—twenty-five years old, well dressed and drinking tea—for the last time sit still—while talking to the man sitting beside her—"

"Stop, stop!" Kai exclaimed angrily. His eyes were squeezed shut and both his hands were rubbing his temples, as if he had a very bad headache. "You descriptions are meaningless, your grasps on magic would make a novice laugh, neither of you have the brains of a dog—which by the way are at least loyal and cute enough to appeal to people." His eyes opened, fixing them both with a glare nearly as icy as Hilary's. "What in the world do you two have to say for yourselves?"

Both Max and Tyson sat in silence, with Max still leaning across the table from when he tried to heal Tyson. Kai's glare raked across them both and seemed to create a zone of silence that shut out the laughter and sounds of the busy street and café where they sat. Even the sunshine seemed to dim in the Kai's annoyance.

"Tyson," snapped Kai, angry at the lack of response, "Relate to me the events of your part in this training session."

"W-w-well," stammered Tyson, "today we started training with you asking to see our proficiency with weapons—"

"Where you proved an utterly inept idiot with your chosen spear," interrupted Kai.

"Hey, I gave you my best—"

"And were disarmed within the first ten seconds for the twenty times I tried to appraise your abilities."

"Well you didn't really tech me anything about defending myself better!"

"That's why this day is called an appraisal, so I can see what you've learned over the years and figure out how much I have to teach you." Kai turned his head to stare at Max. With Kai's eyes on him Max felt as if the table between them was a gap that stretched to infinity, to big to be bridged by any means.

"Max, go ahead with what we tried after weapons training."

"After weapons training you asked us to perform all the magic we know, starting with the most basic and progressing to the most complex." To solve the shriveling effect of Kai's gaze Max adopted an indifferent, observant air. With a shell of apathy between him and Kai he was able to keep from shaking under the cold stare. In the respite provided by this, Max began to sip the coffee that Kai had bought for the two trainees.

"Yes, and again you both proved inadequate for the position that you are about to take. This city is the only place on Earth that is so incredibly in tune with the supernatural. As one of the four Guardians you are involved in the defense of this city and the policing of all things that cross over. When you wear the robes of a Guardian—"

Kai was interrupted by Tyson, who had begun to drink his coffee but had immediately spat it out at the mention of robes.

"Why the hell do we have to wear robes? Can't we at least have a uniform that does not include robes? How about jeans, or khakis?"

"Tyson," said Kai in a tired voice. "Shut up."

Max, still trying to keep himself indifferent, decided to speak up.

"Tyson, the robes are a sort of symbol that tells people exactly what we are. Anyone who has a job with magic wears robes. It lets people know to keep their distance, and warns them that there are supernatural forces at work around them."

"Basically it tells them to stay the hell out of our way," finished Kai.

"Well I will not wear any robes," Tyson grumbled into his coffee.

"Tough," Kai said with an incredibly tired voice. "You're a Guardian and we wear robes."

Tyson looked up at Kai with a glare that almost matched Kai's. Tyson's eyes looked like deep blue storm clouds, and Max was surprised to see what looked like lightning flashes.

"I never asked to be picked for this job, and I really don't care if you want me to wear robes, I WILL NOT."

As if a match was suddenly lit, Kai lost his cold demeanor. His eyes were blazing red with suppressed flames that burned with unquenchable fire. The air was suddenly unbearably hot, and Max found he was having trouble breathing.

In answer, it seemed as if something had changed Tyson. His eyes clouded over with the inner storm that Max had observed. Sudden gusts of wind buffeted the area, swirling around Tyson and the entire table.

With a voice that was impossibly deep and echoed with an iron hard force Kai spoke.

"You did not get picked for this job, nor is anyone ever chosen for this job. You were born into this destiny and will carry it out no matter what you may want. If you run away from this, it will follow you wherever you go. If you shirk your duties you will find misfortune in ever aspect of life. The only relief from this fate is death, and with your death you consign to some child the weight of the job that a grown man like yourself is needed for. Now CONTROL YOURSELF!"

With the last words Tyson suddenly seemed to realize the miniature storm boiling around him. With a gasp it all disappeared, dying down to a soft breeze. The fire in Kai's eyes died down to smoldering embers.

"First rule of life, fairness is a myth. You live with whatever hand you're dealt, whether you want it or not. Welcome to the position of Guardian, now if you'll direct your gaze back to that woman I'll show you what you should have seen about her when you looked at her…"

End of Chapter Two.