Guardian of the Sun

I woke before my alarm, before the sun. Outside my window, the world was covered in white. It was untouched, early enough that there were no tracks anywhere.

The snow weighed on my mind as I wondered what had brought me out of deep sleep two hours early. I couldn’t recall any dreams. It wasn’t the first snowfall of the season, although this snow looked like it would be here to stay.

A promise? I was awake, yet not fully aware. Something tugged at my mind. I had an obligation, but for the life of me, could not put words to it.

Frustrated, I sat up in bed and swung my feet over the edge. The floor was ice cold.

Cold, snow, ice.

The pond. How could I forget about the pond?

My grandmother was hospitalized just over two months ago. She told me that I was the only one she could trust to look after her koi when she couldn’t. She was always self-sufficient, it felt like a different person speaking to me when she admitted that she needed help.

And I had let her down.

There were no missed calls on my phone, no one to remind me of what a terrible daughter or granddaughter I was. A small blessing, I didn’t need anyone to help me feel any worse than I already did.

Winterizing the koi pond was an endeavour. Grandmother left me the notebook with her detailed checklists in it. Our winters were harsh, but with the proper steps taken, the koi could survive.

She loved those fish. So did I, if I’m being honest. I don’t fit in with my family. They know it, and now that I’m an adult, at least on paper, they regularly forget to invite me to family gatherings. I make them uncomfortable. I don’t laugh when I’m supposed to, I didn’t go to the school they wanted and I never seem to have the right answers to their questions.

Grandmother, especially, seemed disappointed in me. When I was young, we would sit together for hours by her koi pond. She would tell me stories about each of the fish. Each had a name and had many adventures. Niko once climbed a waterfall and became a dragon, but he missed Mari so much that he returned to the pond to be with her forever. Sasha and Anchor were guardians of the heaven gate, they protected it from demons who would steal the secrets within. Lilly was truly a moon-lady, cursed in fish form for failing to hide from the sun.

The fish would eat from my grandmother’s hands and came to see her whenever we sat outside on the pond’s edge. The stories would change, but the fish did not. Grandmother’s koi had been with her for as long as I could remember. In more recent years, Grandmother would only sit in the shade and watch the koi, she stopped sharing her stories with me.

I didn’t feel like an adult, I never wanted the stories to stop. More and more, it felt as if there was something I should be doing. Grandmother would watch me expectantly, then look away with a sigh. A disappointing legacy.

Yet here I was, given a concrete and achievable responsibility, something that I could take care of and, and I forgot. Plain and simple. The icy floor numbed my feet as I sat lost in my memories. Hopefully, it wasn’t too late for the koi, even if it was too late for any redemption in my family’s eyes. I felt like the burden they perceived me to be.

I pulled on my thick socks and many layers, preparing for the bone-chilling weather outdoors. I didn’t harbour any hope of catching a cab or an uber at this time of day, I would need to walk.

Grandmother’s house was an hour away by foot. The glacial air was still and unmoving as I pushed through it. The snow squeaked and crunched underfoot, hard enough that my feet broke the crust yet soft enough to make my progress slow.

My breath hung crystalline in the air. The white snow glittered all around me, illuminated by the streetlights. The menacing contrast of man-made light and stark snow made my hair stand on edge.

As I trudged along, my heart raced, spurred by a panic that I could not name. The further away from home and the warmth of my bed, the more difficult it became to lift my legs to take another step. There were no sounds, save for my crunching footsteps and laboured breathing. I convinced myself that if anyone was watching I would have a warning if they attempted to draw near.

Halfway there, no sense to turn back now. My legs ached as the cold seeped through my many layers. I hunched down as if I could make myself smaller and conserve my heat. There was no wind to push or tug at me, it was as if the snow itself was leeching my energy directly.

Exhausted, I struggled to continue. Lifting my lead-like boots one at a time, I willed myself to keep going. I could not explain it, but I knew that stopping now would be the end of me. I had to keep moving forward. All I could see was the snow-covered sidewalk in front of me. I trusted my body to know the way, retracing the steps I’d taken so many times over the years.

My vision narrowed, my teeth chattering, I felt the cold reach my core. The staccato pitch of my heart began to slow. Still, I pushed on.

At last, my toe kicked the bottom of a white gate, the entrance to my grandmother’s garden. I was almost there, just a bit further. I forced my fingers to lift the small handle and I shoved at the gate. The snow built up behind it made it stick. I was not welcome. I flung my body at the gate and pushed with all of my strength, scraping the snow away.

With an opening large enough to squeeze through, I wiggled my way into the garden. I lost my footing as I slipped through and landed directly in the snowbank. The snow here sparkled, it cushioned my fall. It would be easy just to lay here a while. I’d made it all the way, a few minutes of rest wouldn’t hurt.

As my eyes closed, I had a vision of my grandmother sitting in her chair by her pond. Her face wore the expression of plain disappointment I had grown used to seeing over the years. I did not become the person she wanted me to be. Here I was, letting her down again.

With a sigh, I opened my eyes and mustered enough conviction to push myself up and out of the snow. A moment, I put one foot flat on the ground. Another moment, I pulled myself up tall. I was frozen, but I had a job to do.

My feet now felt as if they were moulded in concrete. I stumbled towards the koi pond. Just one step at a time.

My toes grazed the stones that ringed the outside of the pond. Finally, I made it. The surface of the pond was coated with a thick layer of white, undisturbed snow. I knelt down and began uncovering the ice below. To my dismay, I discovered that the water had frozen solid.

Frantic, I pushed as much of the snow off as I could with my gloved hands. There they were, my grandmother’s koi, frozen. The ice was perfectly clear, magnifying each golden fish scale.

This made no sense, only the top layer of the pond should have frozen. I planned on breaking up the ice to ensure that the fish weren’t deprived of oxygen. Grandmother had a small heater that I needed to install. The fish, immobile and preserved, was not what I expected.

As I stared at the fish, their eyes bored back into mine. I knew I had failed, I felt it deep within. I shivered violently, teeth chattering as I knelt. I wanted nothing more than to lie back down in the snow, close my eyes and hope that I would wake up back in my room.

Instead, hot tears leaked down my face as I pounded my fists on the unrelenting clear ice. I did not want to be a disappointment, my mistake could be undone. I shouted my frustration, the sound piercing the cold stillness like folded steel. It was not too late, I would not let it be too late.

Guardian.

The word rang clear as a bell in my mind as the sun crested the horizon, bringing dazzling new light to the white wasteland surrounding me. I was not finished yet.

With certainty I did not feel before, I removed my gloves and placed my bare hands flat on the clear ice. I looked at the fish, naming them each in my mind. As the light hit the pond, I screamed. The sound was primal, all that I had pent up inside was released into the atmosphere. I had a purpose, even if I was late to find it.

Through my hands, the heat channelled into the frozen koi pond. Slowly it began to melt away. When I noticed the koi’s fins shiver and move, I renewed my yell. A small part of me wondered if I would disturb the neighbours.

No, it is not just the pond who sleeps.

I sat back, shielding my eyes from the morning light. Although my energy was spent, I felt more alive than I ever had. I became aware of birds singing, heard a small dog yip at offensive squirrels and noted the distinctive brakes of a city bus. Somehow, my world was back from the frozen darkness.

I stood to retrieve the koi food from the small shed where my grandmother kept it. The fish came to me for the first time to eat from my hand. They did not seem the worse for wear, despite having been flash frozen.

The sun felt warm upon my face, the air contained remnants of winter but the soul-chilling freeze was gone. I wasn’t sure what exactly had happened, but my own inner turmoil was banished. My bones knew it, I was at the precipice of something new. A purpose, something that would not cause my grandmother to frown as she gazed upon me.

Welcome, Guardian of the Sun. You have work to do.

Yes, I suppose I did. But first, I needed to winterize Grandmother’s koi pond.

------

Hello! If you enjoyed this story, please consider leaving a heart! If you'd like more, try this one next. -Christina