Guardians of the Gates

NOTE:

I wrote this short story a few years ago, and recently came across it again. I thought it was a fun little story that was worth sharing with the world.

Guardians of the Gates

I smiled at the customer and handed them back a full shopping bag. “Have a nice day.” She smiled politely and left. Once out of sight, however, the artificial smile on my face disappeared and an exhausted sigh took over. I hated working at the music store. I mean, it was a music store, sure. But it was a music store that competed with another music store and lost, rarely having customers. So all in all, it was a drag. I looked out of the shop window and saw the bright neon lights of the club opposite, and wondered what it would be like to work at a club instead. I started imagining working at other places. After a few more hours of killing time, I finally locked the shop up and left for the night.

*

I walked across endless plains of dirt and sand. I was in bare feet and in a light dress, but nothing kept the heat out. The sun was in full stride and emanating heat waves so strong that I could feel them rippling in the air. I could have walked for minutes or days; time seemed to have no meaning here. I spotted something...or someone ahead, though they only seemed to be a tiny speck. In any case, I couldn’t take my eyes off it...I was drawn to it. I walked towards it and suddenly I was right in front of it...in front of him. He had dark brown hair that was practically black, and his skin was flawless and ageless. But the strangest of all was his eyes. They were an amazing mix of amethyst, emerald, aquamarine, and ruby. It should have looked weird, but it wasn’t. It was amazing. He looked at me serenely and silently with an aura of wisdom, knowledge and power to him. He opened his mouth to speak for the first time. “Jessaleene,” he said, speaking my real name. Everyone called me Jess or Jessa, but no one knew my real name. Not since my family died and I moved towns. I hated my full name, hated that my parents had chosen such a weird, hippy, oddly spelled name for me. A lifetime of misspellings and endless confusion followed whenever that name was used. And so, I went by Jessa, so much so that I had been considering changing my name legally to that. But...it was also one of the only things left of my parents that I had.

“Who are you?” I whispered.

“I am many things, but to you I am nothing more than a rock.”

Confusion filled me and I frowned, “But you don’t look like a rock.”

“That is merely because I choose not to look like a rock.”

“Am I dreaming?” Another stupid question, but I just couldn’t help it.

“Only you know that answer.”

I huffed. “That’s very cryptic.”

“Not at all.”

I wanted to yell in frustration, but instead decided to try and be smart about all of this. I had to be dreaming. “Why do you choose to be a rock?”

“I did not choose to be a rock. I am a rock...just a different kind to some.”

I shook my head in amazement, briefly taking my eyes off him. “I cannot believe I’m conversing with a rock.”

I looked up again, and he was gone. But his last words carried through the air to me. “I will see you soon,” his voice had said, “It is time to awake.” His voice disappeared and the air seemed to change.

As the wind carried his voice away, I knew it was time to wake up, but...I didn’t want to. Not yet. I wanted to linger in this timeless place a bit longer. Explore. I began to wander again, slowly and peacefully and contemplating what he had said. But suddenly the entire feel of the place changed. It no longer felt peaceful or serene. I began to feel like prey, and that I was being watched by predators. I spun around to find the source of the eyes, but saw nothing. I took a deep breath and concentrated. I would wake up now. I was going to wake up now, I was going to...a figure appeared in front of me. He stood with tattered clothes and dead flesh. He began to smile, and all of his teeth were either rotten or gone. There were holes in his skin and muscle, and I could see bone. I refrained from freaking out fully, but I got the feeling it was smart and knew it had freaked me out. Other things began to appear, and I felt rising panic. These things, they were things made out of peoples’ worst nightmares. Some sort of hybrid bird flew past and scraped me on the arm that I was using to defend myself from it with. I shut my eyes tightly and concentrated with all my might on getting out of there. On making the images go away. I opened an eye and was relieved to see that they were gone. But in its place were dozens and dozens of rocks. I raised an eyebrow and concentrating on getting the hell out of there before the rocks started going all zombie-like on me.

*

I opened my eyes to find myself drenched in sweat and gasping for breath. I ran my hands through my hair, relieved to be awake. Running out of the room and to wake myself up, I took in my ragged appearance. My long black hair was stuck to my face and neck, and my emerald green eyes were full of horror. I had bags under my eyes and my forehead was slick with sweat. I took a deep breath and ran my hand over my arm where I could feel the sting of the scrape I had received from the bird. I frowned and looked down at my hand. It had blood on it. I slowly looked down to where the cut had been...and swore, startled. The cut was there. It was bleeding. I tried to rationalize it to myself. That maybe I cut myself in my sleep – trying to ignore the fact that I was failing to convince myself. I tried to calm myself down, but it didn’t work one bit. I had a deep cut on my arm from something that happened in my dream. In my damn dream! Dreams were not reality! I mean, they couldn’t be, could they? I shook my head. No, I thought, if this is real, then that wasn’t entirely a dream. That sounded a little more rational, even if it still sounded crazy.

-

A month passed since the dream-bird had attacked me, and since then I’d gone out of my comfort zone and had begun to research paranormal things. I researched dreams and the meanings of them, and all things paranormal. I didn’t know if any of it was really true, but after I’d had a few more similar dreams where I’d ended up getting hurt, I was willing to try anything. I didn’t want to go to a psychiatrist because I knew I’d be sent to some sort of mental institution, or put on medications, and I didn’t want that one bit. Being injured in my dreams had become something of a rather regular occurrence, and even if it started out as a normal dream, the nightmarish creatures would show up eventually.

Another month passed with more of the wildish, horrible dreams and another, until I began to grow accustomed to the horrors. Nevertheless, I’d decided to go and visit a historian who lived at the other end of the country. I had a feeling he wasn’t just a historian and I, for once, had decided to follow my instincts. It told me all sorts of things when I listened. Like that these dreams were happening for a reason, that there’s something much bigger ahead and that I’m in the centre of it. Not that I wanted that to be true.

I knocked on his door and waited. His home was in a secluded place in a small, old town. There wasn’t much grass, only dirt. The sun was high up in the sky and my face was flushed with heat. The only reason I wasn’t fainting from heat was because of the many trees around, trees that I was certain that had been planted there for a reason. The door opened and an old man appeared. His head was bald but he had grey beard. His grey eyes shined with intelligence as I spoke, rather uncomfortably, “Hi, uh, are you Alfred Niumer? The historian?”

He gestured me inside, “Are you Jessaleene Dower, the music store clerk?”

I stared at him in shock, mouth hanging open. “How...?”

“I know a lot about you. I also know that you are so much more than where you work, just like I am more than a historian.”

I pushed past the shock, closing my mouth and nodded in acknowledgement, “You make a good point.” I studied him, “Who are you really, then?”

“I am Alfred Niumer, yes. You may call me Alf if you like. I am a historian to the eye of the public, but I am actually a psychic. I can see some future and I can see everything in the world that is usually hidden from a mortal’s eye. I study all things paranormal and I am older than I look.”

I raised an eyebrow, more than a little skeptically, “Three months ago I wouldn’t have believed you. Luckily for you, things have been happening – at least in my dreams – that have been making me wonder.”

“I know all about your so-called dreams,” he said mildly.

I frowned, “So-called? So they’re not dreams?”

“Are they?” He asked.

I shook my head in exasperation, “I don’t know!”

He watched me, “Are you sure you would like to know?”

I stared at him, “Yes! Especially since my injuries follow me back to reality!”

“You are taken to a place that is in between reality and dreams. Dreams are made from your own imagination, though sometimes a vision can be accessed even by non-psychics. However, where you are you can only go there when sleeping or unconscious and it is, in a way, a dream. But it is not of your imagination. It is real. Therefore all that happens there really happens.”

I frowned, “Slightly confusing, but I get you. You’re saying that I’m half-way between reality and dreams?”

He nodded, “Exactly.”

I frowned, “I’m still very sceptical about all of this.”

“Of course you are. You’ve spent your entire life not knowing or believing any of this. Believing and learning everything does not happen overnight.” His faced changed to something of remembrance and quickly scuttled out into another room, saying over his shoulder, “I have something for you.” He came back in the room with his hands cupping something. He looked up at me seriously, “I have been guarding it ever since I came across it. It told me you would come and to hand it to you.” He took one hand away slowly and showed me what was in his hand.

I stared at it, “It’s a rock.”

“No ordinary one at that,” He replied.

I stared at it dubiously, “It’s a rock.”

He looked at me with exasperation, “Can’t you feel it? It’s no ordinary rock. Here,” He shoved the rock towards me, “Take it.”

I picked it up reluctantly and looked down at him, “Feel what?”

He began to grow agitated, “Close your eyes and concentrate.”

“On what?”

He looked like he wanted to smack me, “On the rock, on your centre!”

“Okay, okay.” I closed my eyes feeling like an idiot, and concentrated on the rock.

Nothing happened, so I tried harder. I was about to give up when I felt it. I opened my eyes and everything seemed different. I could see better, hear everything. I looked down at the rock, expecting to see sparks shooting out of it, but it seemed still like the rock earlier. However, wherever the rock touched on me, it made my skin tingle. The air around it seemed to be thick with something wonderful...was it magic? It was something like that. And this one was ancient.

I looked at Alf in amazement, and he sighed with relief, “Finally. I was beginning to think I’d gotten the wrong person.”

-

It turned out the rock was sentient. In fact, there was a whole other world out there that I’d never known about before I’d met Alf and Owen. Owen was the rock’s name, and it turned out he could contact us out loud or through mind-speech, also known as telepathy. Owen, though wise, had an attitude and enjoyed making sarcastic and rude comments at the most inappropriate of times. It was five months after I’d met Alf, and I was now staying in the only house near Alf’s that had been empty for years. I’d quit my job at the music store gladly and was working at a grocery store to get money for the bills and the house, though Alf had bought the house for me. I was still – gratefully – telling him off for that stunt. He had taught me so much in the last three months, and I was learning so much about the supernatural world and myself. Owen didn’t really teach, just observed. Meanwhile, I was considering getting a more permanent job, and Alf was helping me look. I’d just gotten home and was about to change out of my work uniform, when a masculine voice spoke out of nowhere. “I was wondering when you’d get back.”

I jumped and spun around, finding the source of the voice, “What the hell?” I stared. In front of me was the same man who’d visited me in my first dream-state. The only difference now was the fact that his eyes were a deep, electric blue instead of the mix of colours. I refrained from dropping my jaw, but I couldn’t do anything but stare at him.

He laughed, “Surprise.”

I could suddenly speak again, “Wh-wh-what?! You’re a rock!”

His eyes crinkled in amusement as he chuckled, “I choose to be a rock. I can choose to have a human form if I like, too.”

I glared at him, “You beast! Owen! Why didn’t you tell me!”

He laughed, but transformed it into a face of mock-terror, “Oh no, the wrath of Jessa!”

My eyes narrowed, “The wrath of Jessa indeed!” I began to chase after him, but he ran faster than lightning. However, I’d learned a few tricks myself over the past few months, and was very good at catching up to him. I caught up and attacked him half-heartedly. He dodged my attacks neatly and eventually I gave up, glaring at him. “I hate you.”

He smiled. “And you’re cute.” I paused, not knowing what to say to that. Because the truth was, ever since I’d met him in that reality-dream, when I wasn’t having fending off the nightmarish creatures, I was dreaming about him – in normal dreams. Even during my waking hours I thought about that image...that face. I loved it when he spoke, even as a rock. I enjoyed listening to his voice. Was it possible to be attracted to a rock? I guess it was. I felt myself blush and looked away. I hated blushing. “I made you blush!” He exclaimed excitedly.

I looked around desperately, my blush deepening, “I...uh...I have to go!” I quickly ran towards

Alf’s house and entered without knocking.

Alf came out of his reading room with a book in one hand and his reading glasses open in the other. He gave me a very amused and knowing look, “Why did you leave him there?”

I blushed and shrugged, “What do you mean?”

He rolled his eyes, “When you know what I mean and decide the good course of action, I’ll be in the reading room.” With that he left.

Suddenly I heard a squawk. At first I ignored it, but as it got louder, I payed more attention. I sent out a strand of my mental power towards the bird, and found a sinister aura to it. I looked out the window and saw a raven...but one just like the ones in my reality-dreams, not a normal one. It’s intelligent, blood-red eyes turned and met mine, and its caw was sounded eerily like a sneer. I sent my mental powers out further, and found more ravens. Furious that they had invaded my only escape from them, I stormed out the front door. I took a deep breath and put my hands on my hips. “Show yourself.”

Normally, I would get no reply and more would appear, but this time they replied. A man with black hair and crimson red eyes stepped out of the shadows, having the facial features similar to that of a raven. He smiled at me, “We wait.”

“For what?” I asked, mentally probing them all at the same time.

“The beginning of war.”

“And what war is this?” I asked, suddenly not wanting to know the answer.

“The beginning of the end,” He replied cryptically, before transforming into a raven and flying off. The rest of the ravens followed suit, and once gone Alf came outside.

“It begins,” He said softly.

“What begins?”

He looked at me completely seriously, “Your destiny.”

-

It turned out that my ‘destiny’ was that of a leader and a Guardian. You see, there were many dimensions everywhere, not just this world. There was, of course, this place between each dimension that separates all of them - a bit like gates, if you will. However, demons and other creatures were figuring ways to get through again without the Guardians knowing. It was my job to fight the other creatures to make sure they didn’t get into the wrong dimension. Visiting was acceptable, but they couldn’t take up permanent residence without asking the Council of Guardians, and when visiting they would be closely monitored. Apparently, I was the most powerful of all Guardians, therefore making me the Guardian of every dimension. Or the Head Guardian...or something like that. I was to be trained by my mentor – Alf -, and then take residence in the Guardian world, Curatrix, with my other mentor of supernatural qualities – Owen.

As if hearing his name in my thoughts, he suddenly appeared in my line of sight and wrenched me out of my thoughts. He grinned, “How’s it going?”

I raised an eyebrow, “You’ve caught on to modern language quickly.”

He chuckled, “I learn quickly.”

I couldn’t help but grin as well, though I immediately tried to cover it up with a snarky face, “Well, so do I.”

He came and joined me on the bench I was sitting on and we lapsed into silence. He spoke suddenly, “Tell me something truthful that you’d never normally say.”

I was quiet for about a minute before I responded, “That I don’t want any of this?”

His electric blue eyes moved to my emerald green ones, “Those who want power, should not have it. Those who do not, should.”

I sighed, breaking eye contact, “You’re right, as always.”

He watched me, “I know so much because I have been around for thousands of years. I have seen many things happen in many dimensions, including this one. And one thing is all the same in every dimension: whether innocent or no, those who want power and get it end up being addicted to power, selfish, and power-thirsty to the point of madness. There are few in all dimensions put together that want power, receive it, and do not go power-hungry.”

I nodded, “You’re right. But it doesn’t make it any easier.”

He put a hand on my shoulder, “I know.”

I turned to look at him and shook my head, “This is the part when it gets all cliché.”

He rolled his eyes at the word cliché, “If humans thought about everything cliché, there would be nothing left in the world. Everything that happens in this world is now a ‘cliché’. I do not see the point in it.”

I nodded, “Once again, you’re...”

“Right,” He murmured, leaning close and kissing me. Finally.

-

Over the next few months, many things happened. For starters, I was dating Owen. Second of all, my training was upped. Third, I met a fellow Guardian. Her name was Roze, and she was relatively new at the job. It didn’t take long for us to become good friends. I was going through some fighting techniques – martial arts – when Roze suddenly came bursting out the back door. She gave me a worried look, and I stopped immediately. “Two Guardians were just murdered.”

My jaw dropped. Guardians were deadly and feared by all creatures. This was a rare occurrence. “What?”

“The war has begun,” She said, her eyes wide with sadness, grief, worry, and anger.

I stared at her, “You’re sure?”

She nodded, “Yes. I have to go back to Curatrix as soon as possible, I just came here to update you and to tell you that you are needed at Curatrix. Be there in half an hour with Owen. We’ll have people waiting for you at the other end.”

I turned to the garden once Roze had left and towards the rock. I raised an eyebrow and he transformed into human Owen. He walked up to me and kissed me, and we shared a long look that said more than any words could say. We nodded and went off to find Alf.

Having ‘a few people’ there was an understatement. There were at least twenty people waiting for us when we arrived. We were taken straight to the Guardian Council room. Owen turned back into a rock and went in my pocket, and when I entered everyone turned to me. The current Council leader was standing there with a determined face. She nodded towards me in acknowledgement and I did the same. Then they began to talk again.

Alf had predicted a big confrontation two weeks after the death of the two Guardians...and he’d been spot on. Two weeks after the death of Hanna and William – the two Guardians – a confrontation happened in Curatrix. In those two weeks I had begun to become the leader, and everything that was happening seemed to find a way to revolve itself around me. The confrontation started when a villager came rushing into the Council room – that we had been practically living in for the past two weeks – and informing us of intruders. We knew immediately what it was, and prepared ourselves for fight. Though, to tell the truth we were already prepared thanks to Alf’s prediction. We’d just been waiting for someone to announce their presence. The current leader, Dianne, shared a look with me, and led the way to the confrontation. In our view was an army of raven-shifters, but the leader was standing in front. He had jet-black hair and a mix of black and crimson eyes. You could tell he was a raven by his features, but you could also tell that he was their leader by the way he stood and what he wore. Dianne and I shared one last look and she nodded once. We stepped forward to meet him. He looked me up and down and looked at Owen, “No wonder you keep her all to yourself,” He said, followed by a wolf-whistle.

I raised an eyebrow, “If you’re trying to be all macho, it’s not working.”

“Oh, but I am macho no matter what I do,” He said with a smirk.

I covered up a laugh with a cough, “Right.” I looked him and his small army up and down, “Let me guess.” I put on a low voice and matched the Raven Leader’s voice perfectly, “We are not even half of the real army, we will destroy you, blah, blah, blah.”

“I am but one leader of a large army, yes.”

I rolled my eyes, “Yes, well, no matter what you say, you won’t intimidate us. So can we get on to the whole fighting part now?”

He smirked again and bowed slightly. “My Lady,” He said mockingly.

I kept eye contact with the Raven Leader as I unsheathed my sword and concentrated on accessing the power I wielded. I felt it rush through my bloodstream, my limbs, my mind, my muscles, everything. And then I felt so powerful, I wondered how much power I actually had.

The Raven Leader’s smile faltered ever-so-slightly, and yet he was still the one to strike first. He struck with lightning fast speed, but I was faster and dodged easily. We fought for what could have been seconds, minutes, hours, or days. I wouldn’t have noticed. But eventually, I managed to slice his head clean off. The second that happened, his ‘army’ grew weaker and we won. We destroyed them all.

The battle felt like it had lasted seconds. Everything happened so quick...I couldn’t remember half of it when thinking back to it later.

But one thing stuck into my mind like glue.

After the battle, we had all been relieved we had won...that is, until Owen spoiled it for us. One of us had cheered with the words, “The battle is over!”

Owen had replied with, “That battle has only just begun.”

So we had one this battle. But there was going to be many more to come. I was going to be the best goddamned leader ever, because there was no way I was going to let them take over Curatrix. Ever.

So this is what I said, “Bring it on. We’ll be waiting.”

---

She woke up, drenched with her sweat and gasping for breath. “That was damn real,” She muttered to herself as she forced herself to calm down. She decided to get up and wander around her house to calm down.

“Ella, its 3AM. Why are you still up?” Her housemate said, wrapped in a dressing gown and bleary eyed, Ella’s footsteps having awoken her.

“Well, it’s not like I chose to be awake at this hour! Go back to sleep, Dee. I’ll be fine” she grumbled. Dee filled herself a glass of water from the sink then went back to bed.

Ella paced for a bit longer before going to back to bed. As she got back in bed, she landed on something hard and painful, “What the hell?!” She pulled out a rock. How the hell did that get there? She thought.

She had no idea what finding a rock meant for her.

Well, not in this world.