intention of the wind
[llyse]
Guardians are sorceress souls, Edea had told her. They are sorceress who, for reasons unknown, choose to bind themselves to the spiritual plane with their power instead of moving on, much like the ghosts of normal people. They hold all their old power and are able to use it freely, unencumbered by mortal limits. They take their shape from the beliefs and thoughts of the people around them, often of mythological creatures.
There is another way to create a Guardian Force.
She sits on the right side of the bed. She is pretty, ordinarily so: black hair and round face and eyes that hold mystery. Her darkness is not obvious: in the dim infirmary light her eyes shine gold, or yellow, although the golden streaks in her hair are not quite obvious. Her face is blank, her eyes shadowed, sleeplessness collecting in darkness under her eyes and on her cheeks. We shall call her the Dreamer.
She sits on the left side of the bed. She is not pretty by ordinary means: gray-white hair and sharp chiseled face and eye that holds anger. She has lost one eye already; the remaining one burns with dark flame as if to make up for it. Her darkness is more obvious: in dim light her pale skin absorbs shadow; she does not glow ivory, but sinks within darkness. Her face is calm, but the tenseness of her body betrays her state of nerves. We shall call her the Seeker.
He sleeps in the bed between them. He is handsome, or would have been: blond hair and angular face and eyes that hold faith. That is in the past; now he is shrouded in white, for none wish to look upon the ruin that fire has made of him. He does not appear to hold darkness; here is a man at peace, yet who knows what he thinks? His face is relaxed; it is the only part of him spared, or perhaps restored. We shall call him the Sleeper.
The Sleeper sleeps; the Seeker twitches; the Dreamer watches, and waits—
At length one of them speaks.
"Rinoa," says the Seeker, nothing of her moving save slash of pale lips.
The Dreamer switches the focus of her gaze, taking in the tension that cages the woman opposite her. She is not human, is the Dreamer; she was once, but not any more. In the fire of loss is born something new—something, not cold, but focused. She has a goal, and she will achieve it. Only then can she rest.
"What is your request?"
The Seeker is perhaps surprised that the other knows what she seeks. She does not show it. The warrior that she is does not feel suited for a battle such as this, a battle of sorcery, of great powers and emotions where her weapons have no effect. She wishes for a better weapon, something to help with. Although she has counseled others to be content and support without fighting, she cannot stand by. Her lover is beyond the support she can give, now.
"Magic."
The Dreamer is, for a while, surprised. She is aware that the woman before her despises the whole unnatural lot.
"Why?"
A simple question, and one that the Seeker expects.
"To protect him."
She should have expected it.
"You want me to grant you sorceress powers in the past so that you can sleep to the present and protect him. You're playing with time. And fate, and destiny. Has it occurred to you that you might be tampering with the scheme of things?"
"I know."
"It might be foreordained that he suffers."
"I know."
"And you still—"
"I will take any risk."
The Dreamer sighs.
"Very well. I promise you this, I will grant you a portion of my power before I die, and seal you in sleep that you may wake yourself when the time comes. Will that satisfy you?"
"Yes."
The Dreamer sees the question in her eyes.
"You need not look out for mine. Protect your own. I—I have affection for him, too… Protect him, and I will be content to let time run its course."
The Seeker inclines her head. They know each other. They are so different, were so different. Once they were dark and light, light and dark, fighter and mage, realist and idealist. Now they are united in darkness, and loss, and the pain of losing lovers. Now, they understand each other. They are not friends—possibly will never be friends, but they are alike, and they understand that.
"Thank you," the Seeker says. The Dreamer smiles.
The Sleeper awakens.
