The Guardian

Bright as the sun of Dawn itself, the Guardian’s eyes gleamed their shimmering gold topaz gem radiance as they scanned the city below. The city lights were nauseating. The Guardian shook her head in thought.

Why do humans block out the stars with light that practically replicates them?

She sighed in exasperation. Humans were so puzzling. Always removing what the Earth naturally provides, only to manufacture artificial versions of the original art of the Earth.

Of course, it does not matter what trivial actions the humans enjoy. The Guardian is there to protect the humans to her last dying breath.

The Guardian reminded herself of the tell-tale story of her ancestors, and why she was standing on the hilltop she currently posted herself on.

Told by her daemon mother, the words of her history flooded her mind with truth and power. The Guardians of Earth come from an ancient blood line of Life and Death; a bondage that created a being made soley for the slaying of danger and protection of the innocent in the world.

The mating of Death and his beloved Guardian Angel, Aisha, forged a new species known as the Valkyrie. Invisible to the pure-blood humans, or mundanes, the few half-breeds in the world may catch the blesses glimpse of the Valkyries on duty. They are known to the mundane world by a plethera of names. Their near-immortality earns them the nicknames vampyre, their shape-shifting abilities call for changlings. The byname Nephilim derives from the Valkyries’ god-like heritage. However, the most common epithet for the Children of Protection and Death, is the name demon.

Though, unlike the manevolent demons that invade Earth, soley for murder, sustinance, and destruction, the Valkyries are of daemon birth; a benevolent species, and the enemies of the invasive demons the Valkyries call, Keres.

The Guardian shifted, still deep in thought. Her golden gaze swept across the shining valley before her once more, ever alert for the naughty presence of a Kere making its calamitous journey into the World of the Living.

Newly reminded of her own journey into becoming a Valkyrie, the Guardian shed a single, glittering tear. No one is born a Valkyrie, one is only chosen by the Earth and its allies.

A Valkyrie is chosen before birth. The daemon mark places itself upon the belly of a pregnant mother, setting th stage for a rather harsh, yet delightful future for her child. From there, the child is influenced by everything around it. The Water the mother drinks begins the stage of change within the child, as well as giving the child its human life, alongside its daemon life. Fire gives itself in the form of warmth from the sun, giving the child the genesis of its power. The Air the mother rhythmically breathes transfers life and death simultaneously into the child, both of which allowed its birth in the first place. The Earth itself coincides with Fire in regards to the daemon power within the child, as well as the place of the child’s human death and Valkyrie birth.

The Guardian shuddered in remembrance of her first death. Of course, she knew she was going to die, yet no sense of comfort and ease shielded the fear in her young, mundane mind.

When a Valkyrie is first born, it is nothing more than a human, much like its mother. Only the subtle silver mark of the daemon on the inner palms of the child reveal its powerful secret of its frighteningly beautiful future.

At the young age of sixteen, the silver marks begin to glow. Tears of joy and sorrow burn the mother’s eyes; she will never see her daughter again until her own death takes her soul. Pride overwhelms the mother as she grasps the daemon she raised, her daughter, her Guardian, in her arms before her daughter shimmers like a clear pond in the spring, disappearing into the air.

With a breathy sigh, the child dies for the first time. And with the howl of a hell hound, the Valkyrie is born a second time.

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.