The Guardians of Time

Chapter Three: Whispers

***Los Angeles California, Present Day***

"Ayden, wake up. Your people need you. Without you, the universes will fall. Ayden...come home."

The young woman's emerald eyes conveyed terror, her face full of panicked desperation. Her waist length golden hair hovered around her as if caught by a gentle breeze.

The light pink tunic she wore hugged her curves and there was a pink diamond studded crown on top of her head. She looked as though she had jumped from the pages of an old King Arthur tale as she lifted her hands and reached for him.

He could feel the ghostly touch of her presence. Smell the supple air filled with the light fragrance of Spring that surrounded her. As he reached out for her, he could feel her hand grasp his face and brush his cheek. She smiled at him and opened her mouth to speak again.

He waited for her voice but instead a loud rhythmic buzzing spilled from her lips. It was like nails on a chalkboard.

"Kathryn!" Rok Wellem shot up in his bed to the blaring screams of his alarm clock.

Cold sweat paved lines across his face and skin, matting his lush black hair to his head. He took a few deep breaths trying to pull himself from a world of dreams that seemed more like nightmares.

Looking over at the other half of his bed, he wiped his face trying to avoid the cold emptiness that hovered there.

His heart broken, he let out a little sigh and wondered to himself when the dreams would end. For the past two years his mornings started like this. He hated waking up feeling as if he had lost his wife all over again. He stared at the bed once again; the sheets were still and uninviting. This particular dream was a recent edition to this hellish morning routine. The past few weeks had been especially tiring and it always disturbed him. They were getting more real, more vivid. Like she was still there with him.

"Oh, Kath." He said. "I miss you."

With one last heaving sigh, he reached over and silenced the evil screeching of his alarm clock. He pressed a bit harder on the button than he intended, and it fell apart beneath his hand. He looked at the pieces that stuck to his palm and let out a forceful breath.

The dream had been like the others that tortured him lately. His wife would appear to him dressed like a delicate maiden. She would look at him the way she always had. A look that made him melt into her no matter his mood.

When she would speak, she would call him by another name, Ayden, and would beckon him home. She always touched his face as if she were standing there in front of him. When he woke, he swore he could feel her and smell her presence. He could remember looking into those profound green eyes. They were his safe place.

Rok wanted to wallow but he forced himself up as he had so many mornings before. He stood from his soft mattress and took a giant breath as he stretched like a tired cat awakening from a nap.

Once Kathryn passed away, he found himself spiraling into a vortex of deep depression. It was when he was at the point of wanting to end his life that he decided he made the choice. He either needed to end it, or find a way to move forward. He implemented a morning workout routine to keep his mind in more positive places. This morning, just before work, was no different. He dressed in a pair of shorts and a tank top, put on his running shoes and was out the door.

At 6'5" and 185 muscular pounds, Rok had followed in his father's footsteps and chosen a career as a police officer. He had joined the force thirteen years prior at the age of twenty and worked his way up to the rank of Lieutenant by the time he was twenty-five. He had transferred from Denver to L.A. before Kathryn died.