Myra lounged, once again, on the delicate green grass, wishing time would stop. It was noon and the sun's bright radiance cast a reddish tint on the ocean which trickled through the murky blue water. Soft clouds floated overhead and a promising scent of spring showers swept through the air. It would most likely rain tomorrow, something the village crops needed.
She gazed in wonder as the sun disappeared beyond the horizon, taking away its warmth and light but promising to greet her the next morning with equal, if not more, vivid color than today. Not much time passed by before soft lights blinked into existence in the darkening sky of the night and a full moon cast its pale light over the land.
Every day the transfer of this duty of lighting Myra's world occurred, and every day it struck her with such awe and amazement she couldn't but help send up prayers of praise to the Maker. He continued to paint her a new morning with every daybreak and sketch a calm night with every nightfall. He was a benevolent and merciful Creator.
Nocturnal sounds of owls and wolves accented the cool twilight and Myra's ears tingled upon the sounds. The wolves around her village were harmless loners, so she had nothing to fear. People said a boy from a neighboring village found an orphaned pup a decade ago and the two became the closest of friends. But, they had vanished. Myra still remembered the day her village sent out a search party to find the two, but the boy and the wolf disappeared without a trace and everyone suspected that they had died. She preferred to imagine that they were still alive and dwelled somewhere beyond the dense woods of the west, like the stories in the books Sree read to her.
It was a childish thought, one that didn't belong in the mind of a girl nearing adulthood. Another week and she would be twenty. Marrying age. It was a custom in her village for the father to find a suitable young man to marry his daughter on the month of her twentieth birthday. But her father would never do that. He loved Myra too much to force her into a covenant not chosen by the Creator. Myra believed with all her heart that her Maker had chosen someone out there for her. Someone handpicked by God, himself. A man, fashioned and sculptured to meet every desire of her heart; and Myra, for him. A bond formed in heaven, itself by the gentle hand of the Most High. Myra's heart always beat a little faster whenever she dreamed of the husband promised to her. She had never met him, didn't know his name, his face, or even his personality, but she knew he would love her with all his heart. Some people may call it naïve or impossible. Myra called it heavenly.
What's that? She thought.
A sound, small but steady, rose all over the village. Myra strained her ear to hear better. It sounded like... a scream. The cry gradually increased and was soon deafening. Myra covered her ears and clenched her jaw. The scream penetrated her mind and seemed to shake the ground beneath her. Myra scrambled to her feet and twirled around to face her village. The ground was shaking, and so were the buildings. She cried out in terror as the Holderson's house crumbled to the ground. Soon more homes fell apart. Building by building her village was nearing destruction. Then, the earth beneath her feet crumbled, and she plunged into darkness, the banshee-like screech resonating throughout her body.
. . .
Myra woke from her nightmare only to be greeted by something more terrifying. Her room was shaking. The shelf on which her mother's books sat fell over with a loud CRASH. But not even that noise could cover Sree's scream. Her sister was sitting straight up in her bed, blank eyes wide open as a shriek identical to the one from Myra's dream issued from her sister's gaping mouth. Myra jumped out of her bed and stumbled across the trembling room to her Sree's side.
"Sree! Sree, wake up," She yelled at her sister. Sree continued to scream, her face frozen in sickening horror. It wasn't until she tried to shake Sree that Myra realized her sister wasn't just screaming, she was trembling. She was... vibrating. And her vibrating caused the shaking room. Myra kept trying to wake up her sister, but nothing seemed to work. Desperate, she cried for her father.
"Pa! Help," she yelled, "Something's happening to Sree."
Her father stumbled through the doorway into the shaking room. When he saw his daughter screaming, his face filled with fear.
"Wait here," He called as he disappeared through the doorway into the main room. Myra's eyes, filled with panic, shot back to Sree. She couldn't bear to see the horror on her sister's face and it frustrated her she couldn't help.
"God," She prayed aloud, "Help Sree. Whatever's happening to her, be with her. Please."
Soon her father ran back into the room holding a lit candle and knelt by Sree.
"I'm sorry," He whispered, then held the open flame to her bare skin. Myra stared in horror as Sree's pale arm received a burn.
Suddenly, Sree's eyes filled with consciousness and the room stopped shaking. Her scream died, and she crumbled into her father's arms as she fainted. Myra stared in utter confusion. She was speechless.
"What was that?" She sputtered.
"It's called the Awakening," He said, calmly, "It happens to a few. It also befell me. The only thing that will wake them out of it is pain."
Myra stared at her father, confused.
"What are you talking about? What happened to Sree?"
He looked at Myra, his eyes filled with concern and he placed a rough hand on her shoulder.
"Do you remember the story I used to tell you and your sister?"
Is he going crazy? She thought.
"Pa, what are you talking about? That was just a story. We were kids, and you were the adult fascinating us with a piece of childish fiction. Nothing more."
He lifted his hand from her shoulder and cradled her cheek, fatherly love and care in his eyes.
"It's not a story, Myra."
Her expression turned to pure shock and disbelief.
"Sree... is..."
"A Guardian." He finished for her, "One of a chosen few."
Myra sat there, astounded. Then, realization flooded her mind.
"The hearth. It- it seemed to rise- when we were scared and you tried to comfort us. And- and when you were sad, it would sputter. You're a-"
"I am one," He interrupted, a sense of urgency in his voice.
Myra didn't know what to do, so she laughed. "This is insane," She stood up from the bed and pushed her father's hand away. "You expect me to believe this... this STORY?"
She expected her father to laugh. To explain that this was all a joke and apologize for pulling such a cruel prank on her. Instead, he nodded, slowly but assuredly.
Sree stirred in his arms and opened her eyes.
"What's happening?" She asked. Myra didn't know what to say. Her father calmed Sree and pulled her into a hug.
"You're safe." He said.
"Safe from what?" She asked, confused. Then, fear swelled in Sree's eyes.
"That woman. The village. Is everyone ok?" She was panicking.
"What woman? The village is fine, what are you talking about?" Myra questioned.
What is going on?
"I had a dream," Sree gasped, "The village, everything, was on fire. And there was this woman. She tried to kill me."
Their father's brow knit in worry.
"This woman, what did she look like?" He asked.
"She- she was tall. She was wearing a scarlet dress, her eyes..." Sree shuddered, "Were filled with evil, and her hair-"
"Was red." He finished.
Sree stared at her father.
"Yes. How did you know?"
He suddenly stood up from her bed and hurried out of the room.
"We have to leave." He said.
"What?!" Myra was frustrated. She hadn't understood a single thing her sister and father were talking about and now he said they had to leave?
"Leave Erarld? But we've never left the village! What are you talking about? Who is this woman and why are you so afraid?"
She hurried out of the bedroom to follow her father, Sree right behind her. He was kneeling in the corner they called their kitchen and was stuffing food into a coarse, brown sack. Myra took a few, quick strides over to him and grabbed his arm.
"Pa. What is happening?" She demanded.
Her father turned to her. Worry and fear filled his eyes.
He's scared for our sakes, She thought.
"I wish I could explain," He sighed, "But there's no time for that. If what your sister saw in her dream was true, then we're not safe here. We have to get to Urih." He rolled the 'r' and ended the unusual word with a thick sound in the back of his throat.
He stood up and grabbed a few pots from the top shelf and placed them in the sack alongside the food.
"Where's that?" Asked Myra.
"An ancient forest up north, below the northern Isles. There's someone there who can help us. Another Guardian."
Sree cleared her throat, and the two spun around. She had her hands on her hips and a confused expression on her face.
"Um. What?"
Their father hurried past Sree to their bedroom.
"I'll explain later." He hollered as he picked up the books from the fallen shelf and placed them in another sack. "But we need to leave, now." He strode back into the main room. "Pack anything you deem necessary. We're taking only the essentials. Too much will weigh us down. And it's a long walk from here to Urih."
Myra nodded slowly and then grabbed her sister's arm, pulling her to their room. She was still confused, but the worry in her father's voice convinced her he was telling the truth.
Stars! Guardians... Both Sree and her father were one? This was insane. Myra hurriedly grabbed a cloak that hung on a peg behind the door and threw it on her bed. She then ransacked her drawers, pulling out clothes, a few keepsakes, and a broach. It had belonged to her mother. Myra brushed her fingers across the smooth metal. It wasn't a fancy broach like Mrs. Huddleston wore, but a plain one with a strange symbol in the middle. She quickly changed out of her nightgown and into a green dress. She picked up the small broach and pinned it to the soft fabric.
"I don't understand," Sree whispered. She was kneeling beside her bed, staring at the few belongings she had placed there. Clothes, blankets, a book her father had missed, and a silver necklace, one that Myra had given Sree for her fifteenth birthday. It had taken her three months of work to afford it, but the joy in Sree's eyes was worth the toil.
Myra knelt down beside her sister and wrapped an arm around her frail frame.
"I don't either," She whispered. She didn't know what to do. She wanted desperately to help her sister, but she didn't know what was happening to her.
"I felt something. In my dream." Sree gazed out of their small window. A few stars twinkled in the night sky and the horizon was brightening with the return of the sun. It was almost morning.
"What did you feel?"
"I don't know how to explain it."
"Try."
Sree turned to her sister and gazed into her dark eyes. Myra could see the fear in those doe-like eyes, and it scared her.
"It was like a vibration, a rumble, deep in my soul. When that woman stabbed me, it kind of... erupted."
Myra gasped.
"Sree... when you were screaming, I tried to shake you. You WERE vibrating."
Sree's eyes widened.
"I don't know how, but you were shaking the room. I guess if Pa is right, then it's your gift." Both girls fell silent. Outside a pigeon cooed, and the sun was peaking over the quiet hills behind Erarld.
"It didn't feel like a gift," Sree whispered.
A soft knock came from their doorway.
"It's time to go," Their father said.
Myra and Sree nodded and hurried to pack their few belongings. The three threw on warm fur cloaks and stepped out of their small house into the cold morning. Their father led the way out of the slumbering village and up a green hill. Myra paused at the top and looked back. Somehow she knew she would never be returning. Her home, her friends, her life, she was leaving it all behind. A few tears dripped down her cheeks, and she turned to follow her family.
God, She prayed, I don't understand. But- I trust you.