The Ancient Guardians

The Ancient Guardians (Chapter 19)

THE ANCIENT GUARDIANS

Chapter 19

The morning meditation quickly became more of an enjoyment than a chore. I longed for the silence it gave me and I couldn't get enough of being hypnotized by the moving flames. This particular morning, when Clint came to my door, he requested I bring the tungsten claws with me outside, saying I'd need them today. I kind of had a feeling of what I was going to have to do with them (after all, what are weapons for?). When we finished our meditation and I reluctantly awoke from this state of mind, Clint shared with us what he had further discovered in the piles of books that the first Guardians left behind.

"I found an overview of a small encounter with what was described as 'Harvester of sorrow'." Clint started.

"Isn't that a Metallica song?" I asked

"A what song?" Clint replied.

"Never mind, just go on with what you were saying." I answered him.

"Alright. Well, the name obviously signifies Bob, but I was really interested by this one because the small encounter involves a fight and hints as to what his abilities are."

"Finally, something useful." William exclaimed in a tone that made it seem like he didn't appreciate the other things we found in the books.

"Indeed." Clint continued. "The first Guardians encountered him on the borders of Jerusalem, where the conversation turned into a fight and soon ended with Bob running away. The passage that describes Bob goes as follows: 'The Harvester of sorrow was indeed the King of bones we were following; appropriately named, since he is originally a mass of the humans' vices, which includes a great part of sorrow. His body visibly harvests and collects it, and when exposed to some he grows stronger, as if his very existence feeds on it. Even if it was our first encounter, we were expecting an evil being of his magnitude to have unusual qualities. His weapon, a scythe that is seemingly indestructible, can cut and reflect anything physical or unphysical. His body itself reeks of decomposing flesh from quite a distance. His breath is pure poison. Anything that goes in the darkness that is his face disappears. His movements seem to be randomly uneven; one step can be that of an old man while the next is quick as a rabbit running for its life. In case he is suddenly in danger, he has an emergency, yet temporary, ability that makes his body become like a ghost's, in which case anything will phase through him. Fortunately, he can only use this change for a few minutes before running out of energy to maintain it.'"

Marla asked what was on all our minds: "Is that really what it says?"

"Indeed." Clint answered. "Word for word."

"But..." Marla continued. "You don't even have the book with you. You quoted this by memory?"

Even I would have trouble remembering a passage this long. He read that yesterday night too.

"Well of course I did, how else would I have done it?" Clint casually said.

William was skeptical too. "Seems a bit much to remember perfectly."

"Not for MY age." Clint responded. "Memory becomes sharper with time when your body's not constantly rotting."

He had a good point there. There're still so many things about prolonged life that we don't know since we all usually die at some point.

"In any case," Clint resumed, "today we'll be doing something different now that you all learned to summon your weapons...and flames in Alex's case, properly."

"What're we going to do?" Marla asked.

"Fighting." I said, surprising the others.

"Or as I'd rather call: battle practice." Clint added.