Deborah of the Forsaken

Silas - 6 years ago

SILAS

By the time she turned 20 and I completed my training as a senior Guard, the pull was almost too strong to resist. I dreamed about her every night and was hard pressed not to go up to her to just blurt everything out. I needed her to know what I knew, needed the spark to ignite fully even if the time had not yet come for that. Forcing that spark would be no good for either of us, but my heart was winning out against logic.

She noticed me a couple of times in passing, appreciation for my looks bringing a sweet flush to her cheeks, quick to look away when I grinned in answer. I was older and supposedly wiser, the responsibility of the entire encounter - at the right time - completely on me. I was counting the days.

Today, was that day. The coming of age ceremony for all 20 year olds in the Colony of True North. Today, each one of the newly Risen adults would be assigned a Guard to train and nurture their growing powers. Each of them had been tested carefully by a priestess of Anuura to determine exactly who their Guard should be. A process so precise, no one ever questioned the outcome.

Checking my reflection before leaving my room in the Guard barracks, I nodded in satisfaction. My uniform of royal blue and silver was immaculate, showing off the special care I'd taken with every detail of my appearance as befitted my station. I was a living testament to what hard work and endurance could accomplish. By now, those who had looked down their noses at me when I first arrived at the recruiting field were the ones who admired and respected me most.

The short walk to the amphitheatre helped me clear my head, lock down my roiling emotions. Today of all days I could not slip. Sitting down in my seat with the other Senior Guards with our squadrons behind us, I squared my shoulders and exhaled slowly.

As seniors, our assigned Risen would be the strongest of the bunch, and by all accounts those with the worst attitudes. They would also come from the wealthiest families in the colony, pampered and used to opulence. Our duties as Guards to these young assholes would be both as bodyguards and teachers.

The amphitheatre was starting to fill up rapidly, the time for the ceremony drawing closer. A soft buzzing filled the air with gossip and news whispered back and forth. The Guards sat quietly looking straight ahead, the picture of military discipline and self control. Today was too important for any of us to step out of line. A Guard without a Risen was nothing, left with no purpose, easily discarded. The council did not look kindly on any sort of resistance or failure to uphold the strict code of conduct drilled into its servants, and had been known for stripping a Guard brutally of their uniform once or twice in the past.

Slowly, expectant silence fell over the amphitheatre as the new Risen started walking in. Saluting in front of the raised platform they knelt with one knee and fists to the ground, heads bowed in submission to the Chancellor. Their uniforms were fitted dark-grey high collared suits, finished off by polished black boots and pristine white gloves. Beneath those grey uniforms the silver marking of the Risen were already burned into their skins forever, silently proclaiming their power to anyone who knew what they were looking at.

The second she walked in I could feel her presence. My breath caught in my throat as she marched in front of the podium, her silver haired head held high.

Mine.

It wasn't an appropriate thought for a Guard of my standing. I just couldn't help thinking it. I'd been through torture training, endless combat drills, sleepless nights spent learning to weave with my power and nothing came close to seeing her kneeling there not knowing if I'd be assigned to her. I was in agony.