Something stirred within the coldest grasps of the continent; a change so extraordinary that, at first, it was overlooked as an error, a blip in the otherwise blemishless perfection. There had been no need to be concerned, for mistakes such as these were often easy to remedy; a simple reboot and recharge and the problem would be gone.
It was nearly forty-eight hours later before someone realized that this blip was much greater than the ones they'd watched over for the past thousand years, and definitely could not be an error in the system.
Which meant someone out there was using a miraculous illegally.
The entire situation brought about many problems that now needed to be addressed. The greatest and most obvious being; how had a miraculous been located in the first place? There were not many left in the world to find. The few that remained were scattered, hiding in places where no one would ever think to go looking for them-such as the Amazon rainforest. The most obvious solution was that the activated miraculous had come from the Chinese Miraclebox; the one taken by a previous Guardian-In-Training; Fu, before he had burnt down the temple and the Guardians had been forced to flee to their outposts on each continent. But yet, each kwami brought about a specific feeling to themselves and to those around them upon using their powers, and this did not feel like a Chinese kwami.
This felt...
...older.
Much older. Like...something that had been long lost to both time and age. And since they knew the exact location of the ladybug and black cat kwami, that narrowed down their search to the third and fourth most powerful of all beings; those of wisdom and vengeance, the hippogriff and the dragon.
Which was impossible since Lorr and Trekk had been missing for millennia: ever since the conquistadors arrived in South America during the late 16th century. Their miraculouses had not only been lost in the midst of a fearsome fight, but there had been no records of their holders up until this point.
No one knew what had happened to the two kwami after that.
So, why then, after all these years, could he suddenly sense their presence once more? Where were they? And the more important question; who was it that had their miraculous and would be stupid enough to activate them?
"Celestial Guardian...Su-Han, sir? Uh...you may want to take a look at this."
He opened one eye with a scowl, glaring down at the young man standing uncomfortably below his meditation ledge. "Rikard," he said slowly, purposefully, uncrossing his legs and folding his hands as he stood to a more natural position-much unlike the intimidating defensive posture he so often selected to address his pupils with. "What is it?"
"It's the miraculouses of wisdom and vengeance," Rikard explained breathlessly as his kwami circled his head nervously. "We've found them."
Su-Han dropped from his perch and landed on the stone tile before the boy, quieter than a mouse, and Rikard gulped.
"Where?" the Guardian demanded.
"Uhm...uh...P-paris!" the student blurted. "F-france! W-we're still trying to p-pinpoint their exact location, but right now we know enough to guess-"
Su-Han wasn't listening anymore. In two quick steps, he was breezing past the boy, hands folded neatly behind his back as he pondered. "Alert our allies in the European sector," he ordered without so much as a glance over his shoulder. "We have a breach in our defenses. Summon those who guard the Miracleboxes and the High Guardians at their designated outposts. I want them here now, I want to know how we missed this, and I want these new holders-whoever they might be-captured and detained for questioning! The very act of wearing a miraculous without Guild consent is against our code and anyone found doing so will be severely punished! That goes for everyone!"
"Uh...yes, sir! Of course, sir!" Rikard stammered, gulping as the raccoon shifted toward the hood of his coat nervously. "But...uh...sir? There's...still a possibility that...whoever has these miraculous now...might not know what they contain or the rules of the guild! Wouldn't going after them now just alert them to our existence and possibly frighten them into never using the miraculouses again?" Or was that the whole idea? With the man, it was often difficult to tell what he was expecting.
"Nonsense!" the Guardian exclaimed loudly, sending Rikard three feet into the air and his kwami diving for cover inside his oversized coat. "Everyone who wears a miraculous knows the law! It is tradition!"
Rikard's protests died on his lips as Su-Han turned and flew out of the room with a growl, already yelling something at someone else further away, probably a poor first-year trainee who had been unfortunate enough to get in his way. For someone who practiced constant meditations, Su-Han was often the opposite of calm.
The boy sighed, sharing a glance with the raccoon who was giving him a disbelieving stare. "Well, what was I supposed to do?" he demanded. "He's the Celestial Guardian! I can't argue against that!"
"You need to stand up to him, Sir," the kwami answered calmly, squeezing back out of his coat to wrap himself firmly into the boy's gloved hands. "He may be the Celestial Guardian, but you are just as important and you play a vital role to this guild! You will be training the next generation of heroes one day. He needs to respect you for that."
"That's easier said than done," Rikard scoffed. "Since he is literally in charge of everything that happens with the Guardians and-" His eyes shot up now and he twisted to his left, narrowing his gaze at an ever-so-slight motion from one of the darkest shadows of the room. It was almost so small that he wasn't sure he had even seen anything in the first-
A high-pitched sneeze echoed through the otherwise still room and a pair of fuzzy blue ears suddenly poked from the darkness and two glistening eyes blinked ominously from the gloom. Something was there, hovering just out of his reach, and it didn't take him more than a second to guess who had been eavesdropping on them this entire time.
"Oh, great," Rikard groaned, running a hand through his thick hair as he turned. "Just what I need right now to help me when I'm already beyond impossibly stressed out. My soothsayer of disaster."
The raccoon above his head frowned. "I think his name is Luupa," he corrected automatically, missing the sarcasm entirely.
"Thank you for that, Bandd." Rikard deadpanned.
"You're welcome!" Bandd chirped, spinning through the air happily as the wolf-like kwami glided over to join them as soon as the coast was clear, fangs shining and snout drawn worriedly as he approached.
"Rikard!" the kwami howled, very accurately representing the animal he stood for. "I have seen the most terrible things! Absolutely horrible!"
The boy sighed and hunched his shoulders, knowing there was no way for him to escape the inevitable. "Oh, where have I heard this before? Oh, yeah! This isn't another of your 'the spaghetti in the lunchroom is poisoned' spiels again, is it? Because I think I've heard that one at least fifteen times in the last week alone..."
"No!" Luupa exclaimed, flicking his ears anxiously. "Though that is STILL A VERY STRONG POSSIBILITY. That food is terrible! Someone MAY have poisoned it to kill the chef who made the atrocity in the first place! And whatever you do, don't eat the creamed corn!"
"Oh, good heavens," Rikard rolled his eyes, very accustomed to the wolf's sudden outbursts by now. "Here we go..."
"You know I'm right!" Luupa cried. "I am not making this up! We are in danger! Everyone here at this outpost is in grave danger! The legend is about to crash down upon us! The lost heir! The Guardians united for the end of times!"
"Wow, cryptic as ever, I see."
"He sounds more and more like Fluff every day," Bandd remarked.
Rikard silently agreed but before he could say anything, the kwami growled exasperatedly and swished his tail angrily.
"I am trying to warn you!" Luupa protested. "Fluff may be able to see all the possible futures, but I can clearly see this one! The oldest legend of all time is about to come true! Every kwami is about to be bonded and their powers stolen by another! We need to prepare! We need to be ready!"
Bandd, though he still looked slightly disbelieving, managed to compose himself long enough to utter out a, "Luupa, calm down! What you're saying is impossible! Kwami can't lose their powers! We've been around since the creation of the universe! We're immortal!"
"I'm telling you, I-"
"Luupa," Rikard interjected, growing impatient now. "There is nothing wrong with our futures. You're just overreacting to one of your nightmares again."
"Even nightmares serve a purpose!" Luupa argued, a growl forming in the back of his throat. The fur on the collar of his neck rose defensively but the boy just shook his head and his kwami mimicked his actions.
"Okay, sure," Rikard sighed. "The world is in danger and everyone here is at risk. Gotcha. We really need to find you a holder, pal. I think you've been cooped up in that miraclebox for too long."
"Why don't you go see if you can find a scribe or something to journal what you've seen recently in your dreams?" Bannd suggested warily. "Maybe they can help you sort out what's real and what's just in your imagination."
With a nod at his kwami for his quick thinking, Rikard started to creep away from the blue holderless, bundling his coat tighter to his neck and pulling the hood over his hair. He reached the door a few moments later and Bandd yelped, scrambling after him, leaving Luupa hovering alone, watching their every move with a frown with his tail drawn in and swishing anxiously into a potted fern, listening to the sounds of excited voices just beyond the walls of the temple.
"The future is coming," he snarled. "The end draws nearer and the hour of the destined comes close. The gold and red will bring about the war and above it all, the great protector will be revealed, the last descendant of the miraculous, the only one who can end our secrecy for all time." His gaze pulled away from the retreating boy and his skittish kwami to focus on something far beyond the realms to time and matter, to a quiet laugh thousands of miles away, and to a gentle pull of love, of goodness.
"I know you're coming, destined one. I do not yet know how or where, but I know you are out there and someday, somehow, you will find your way here. And when you do, I will be waiting for you."