Guardian, Chapters 1-5

Guardian Chapter 3

SARAE WAS A WARRIOR, not a babysitter. Ahreyal was like a newborn. She wasn't weak, but she was fragile. She would eventually become more powerful than Sarae; probably more powerful than any soldier in the Heavenly army. Until then, she needed divine protection - a task given to Hezekai, Sarae and Amaya. But they were gone. Ahreyal was Sarae's responsibility, alone.

Sarae had never been alone. Hezekai had been at her side since the moment of her creation. He trained her, well, he and Michael. He was always beside her in battle. When she went to earth to protect a human, Hezekai was always with her; always played the role of her father – strong, wise, protective. There were times she forgot they weren't related. He protected her. He taught her how to protect herself. She appreciated him...no, she loved him. She loved him the way a daughter loved her father. I never got the chance to tell him. Now, I never will.

Amaya. Sweet, gentle, caring Amaya, always played the role of her mother. She kissed her forehead. She braided her hair. Read her stories at night. Though Sarae never admitted it, her nurturing presence had always been a comfort. Now, that presence was gone forever. She taught Sarae what it meant to have a mother. In a world filled with threats, war, and turmoil, Amaya was the one place Sarae could always find peace. She was her quiet. She was...home. I never told her. I never told either of them. Now, their gone.

Ahreyal stirred. Blinked. Gasped. Propelled herself upward. Looked around the room.

"I'm here," Sarae said softly, "You're safe." Amaya, how do I do this? She closed her eyes. Took a deep breathe. "Take a minute and clean yourself up. Come downstairs when you're ready."

"Downstairs?"

"Yes. We have a lot to talk about."

* * * * *

They were in a large blue and white kitchen, in a house...somewhere. Ahreyal couldn't tell if they were still in New Orleans or even the United States. The furnishings were modern with all the accessories of a home long lived-in. The kitchen was white, blue and yellow. Stove, sink, and fridge were all a soft shade of blue while the counter, floor and walls were white with yellow accessories. The kitchen table and chairs were blue. A clear vase with yellow and blue flowers and white baby's breath sat in the center of the round table. A tall, glass pitcher of cold water and an empty glass sat beside the flowers.

Sarae stood at the large blue stove. She used a wooden spoon to stir the contents of a large pot. Glanced in Ahreyal's direction, "Have a seat," she said, when she saw Ahreyal approaching the table. She placed the lid on the pot and chopped several cloves of garlic.

"Where are we? Whose house is this?" Ahreyal sat down at the table. She poured herself a glass of water.

"We're in my house, in Frierson."

"Your house?" Ahreyal looked around, "Frierson?"

"Yeah, it's about forty-five minutes outside of Shreveport."

"Shreveport?"

"Sorry." Sarae smiled, "It's a city in Northern Louisiana, about 3 hours from Dallas, Texas. I've had this house for...well...a long time."

"When did we get here?"

"Yesterday. You were still sleeping."

Ahreyal tried to remember what happened before she fell asleep...everything was blank. "How long was I out?"

"About fifteen hours. You needed to rest," Sarae said in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Rest?" Fuzzy memories tried to claw their way to the surface. Something happened...something terrible. "Did you drug me, or something?"