❅ The Winter Guardians ❅
Once, a long, long time ago, when the planets were being formed, when the rivers flowed with purity, when the skies glistened with a million stars, the world was at peace. There was nothing wrong; no stains of evil on the perfect drapery of the universe, no shadows lurking where the sun shone. There was life everywhere. And where there was life, there was peace.
They were called Guardians. Simple, yet straight-forward. They protected reality for the people and creatures of dawn. They were legends. Myths. Many did not believe in the powers, strengths, and abilities of the Guardians. They thought it was all a hoax, which isn’t very surprising — if you heard of magical beings spread throughout the universe who are constantly trying to protect your past, present, and future, would you be slightly doubtful? Maybe disturbed? Yes, there were many who doubted and feared the truth that is spoken. However, there are also Believers. And that is where our story begins.
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Charles Green was a young boy, possibly nearing his ninth year of life. Charles lived in a small village, which was placed in a colder position of the planet. His mother, Florence, and his father, Edward, would do most anything to protect their young son from harm. You see, Mr. and Mrs. Green were not Believers. They did not believe in the legends and stories of the Guardians, other than believing that they simply did not exist.
However, Charles’ grandfather, Peter, was a strong Believer. Many stayed away from him, thinking he was a crazy man with all of his strange stories. But not Charles. Charles was closer to his Grandaddy than anyone else. Even Mrs. Green, who was the highly-loved and greatly-appreciated daughter of Peter, tried to keep Charles away from his “insane mind”.
Charles, a naturally mischievous and brave boy, loved Peter’s stories, even if everyone else thought they were “simply fake” and “not worth anyone’s time”. Ah, well. You cannot make someone do or think what you would like them to do or think.
As I have said before, Charles was rather fond of Peter’s tales. His favorite in particular was “The Legend of the Winter Guardians” as his grandfather titled it. The Guardians took many forms — Night, Wind, Star, Ember, and Winter. The legend tells of many protectors who watched over life while the biting cold of winter wrapped its heavy blanket over the landscape. Living in an area with a naturally chilly climate, this was Charles’ favorite story.
Believers were told they would never encounter a Guardian of any sort. Charles never listened to this information. He used to be incredibly sure that he would meet and befriend a Winter Guardian. That is, until the Shadow Knights took over the world. Erasing every trace of any Guardian ever existing, the Shadows rode out, killing or capturing each and every protector they could find. Homes were burned. Families were destroyed. Communities were crushed. Blood and tears now stained the once-perfect lining of the universe.
As majestic and exhilarating the Winter story was, conversation of the Shadow Knights never pleased Charles. Sadness was planted into his young soul and as he grew, that sadness was replaced with a ferocious rage that bubbled up within him.
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“Aimee, your mother’s calling you!” Charles hopped down the stone steps with a mischievous smirk and slight swagger. “Forgot to feed the chickens again, did we? Possibly you should trade in some of that beauty for a few brains!” Charles stopped in front of a tall, blonde-hard young woman, nearing her seventeenth year of age. She wore her hair up in a tight braided bun and was kneeling on the ground, weaving together flowers into a dainty crown. “Oh, shut up, you rotten thing,” she retorted as she stood up and looked at the young boy. Charles held out his hand mockingly. “M’lady.” Aimee laughed and placed the completed flower crown onto Charles’ thick chocolate-brown hair. It reminded her of the early days of their friendship, when they would play in the mud with the piglets. She could still hear her mother’s voice scolding her, and her father’s cheerful laugh.
Aimee and Charles grew up together. The two had so much in common, yet were so different. They were a perfect balance of mischief and poise. And between the two, they were both Believers. They made a promise long ago that they would never tell anyone about their secret. Even Aimee couldn’t tell her flowers. They both knew the dangers and outcomes of believing in the Guardians. The world was no longer a safe place.
Later, after chasing each other around the village and finally stopping on a beautiful green hill to catch their breath, Aimee and Charles began conversing about their Secret. “I’m going to travel towards the Northern Mountains, and I will find the Guardians,” Charles had said. “Don’t be foolish, Charles Green. You know the penalties that are held if you’re discovered.” Aimee always had to give Charles reality checks. She was the more realistic of the pair, while Charles fantasized and daydreamed on a regular basis.
“Of course I know! Everyone knows. Your damn chickens probably know! Why do you talk to flowers and chickens anyway? You’ve got me! I’ve got an excellent attention span, you know.” Charles smiled jokingly at Aimee. She nudged him in the arm. “If I told you everything that’s going on up here,” – she gestured to her head – “you would be hilariously confused.” “And possibly concerned?” Charles added. Aimee gave him an annoyed but happy glance. “Come with me!” Charles pressed. “We can run away, nobody will ever know. Nobody will ever care! We can live the lives we’ve always wanted to live! Come, Aimee. With me.” Aimee looked up into Charles’ eyes with an expression all too familiar. Here comes the lecture. Charles thought with annoyance. “Charles… who knows if they’re even alive> The Shadows have scoured the land clean,” Aimee said. “But that’s exactly the point! What if they are alive, Aimee? Please, come. We can finally go on a real adventure!” Charles jumped up and pulled Aimee to her feet. “Oh, Charlie… I just don’t know…-” She began. “Great! We leave at dawn! I’ll even feed your chickens!” Charles’ confident voice echoed through the hills as he ran down towards the village, preparations and plans already whirring through his mind.
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The knight ran quickly towards the throne. “Your Highness! Your Highness.” He yelled between breaths. “What is it? SPEAK.” The large figure poised on the throne glared down at the messenger. “What news have you brought?” The messenger bowed to the Queen, so low that he almost fell forward, which wouldn’t end well with the massive woman. “Your Majesty, we have picked up some strange activity in the Northern Mountains.” The Queen stared down at the knight. “Continue,” she said. The knight nodded. “Where the trees are usually frosted and the waters are frozen, there have been odd changes. It is as if everything is beginning to melt, Your Majesty.” The Queen sat back in her throne to think. After several minutes, she spoke up. “There is only one explanation for this. It is the Elder Guardians. They are dying, the frost along with it. With them finally gone, the Shadows may devour the land. The Elders are the only ones standing in our way.” She paused as she listened to some activity in the dungeons. “Send out our best scouts to line the Northern Border. I want every piece of information within these walls. When the frost is dangerously low, send out your riders to capture the Elders.” She paused again to listen. “And gather the remaining Guardians for execution. The Darkness Will Reign.” The messenger nodded his head nervously. “The Darkness Will Reign, Your Majesty.” He exited the castle with incredible speed, ready to fulfill his duty.
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“Where the bloody hell is that boy?” Aimee muttered to herself. She had been waiting for Charles for nearly fifteen minutes. “He said that we would leave at dawn, sharp, no questions asked.” She scanned the landscape and sighed. “Maybe I should just leave without him-” “AIMEE!” Charles was running up the hill with a bundle of something in his right hand, a sack thrown over his shoulder, and reins in his left hand, with two large horses in tow. “I’m here, sorry! Thought you might want these.” Charles threw the bundle at Aimee. “What-” She unraveled the knot of what was apparently clothing and looked at Charles with a confused look. “Trousers? A male blouse? What is this for, Charles?” He gave her an exasperated sigh. “God, Aimee, you’re not going to be running through this terrain with a corset and a skirt? I don’t think so. Put them on, quickly, now. We don’t have all day.” It was now Aimee’s turn to be exasperated. “Fine. Don’t look,” – she then muttered under her breath – “you foul toad.” Charles turned around with a self-satisfied smile on his face, allowing Aimee to change in privacy. “I brought Moon and King,” Charles said, gesturing to the two horses.
Aimee and Charles had adopted the creatures when they (the horses) were just foals. They were being held captive by the Shadow Knights in the Grand Castle when the children “rescued” them. Aimee and Charles raised and named the horses, riding through the land almost every day. Moon was Aimee’s horse. She was named for her majestic black coat and her silky mane. Moon had a white star on her muzzle, along with white streaks in her mane and tail. She was truly a beauty. King, who was Charles’ horse, wore a magnificent chestnut-brown coat with dark brown hair and white spots along his rump and legs. The horses were fantastic, fast, and very excited for what was about to take place.
Aimee stepped up to Moon and gently patted her head, muttering something unintelligible. Moon whinnied happily. Aimee took a small cube of sugar out of her pocket and fed it to her horse, Charles doing the same. “Right then, let’s get moving!” He exclaimed as he jumped up on his horse. “I don’t want to be riding when it gets dark.” And with that, the party started riding North, their mission to find a Guardian, any Guardian, and save the world, began.
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Tell me if I should make Part 2!
Defiantly! This is a good story. Part 2 would be great!
CoOl 😎
I’m… I’m… I’m SPEECHLESS! These are the best sentences and descriptive conducts of the night!
(How old are you, by the way? I’d be shocked if you’re under 13!)