In the land of endless time, there are those who stand.They are the ones who hold the powers, the ones who can save.
These are the six guardians of the stones.
Green, the leader, the one who will decide.
Red, the fighter, the one who will battle for life.
Blue, the mysterious, the one who comes only when needed.
Purple, the compassionate, the one of love.
Orange, the listener, the one who will come when called.
White, the peaceful, the one who settles without fight.
They will provide balance to the world, a factor of safety.
In a period of turmoil, however, even they will be threatened.
The balance will be thrown, the world will be threatened.
Those of the stones will need to come together stronger than ever.
The six will fall, and six will come up from the crowd.
Fate will guide, fate will show the way.
In the end, the eternity will be for better.
And the legacy of those gone will stand for all to see.
One
"I plea, I cry, I beg that you do me no harm, that you will spare me. For my life I will do your will. For my soul I will give your heart what it wishes. All I can do is plea. I am now at your mercy, and I beg that yours is willing to accept."
There was a chilled softness to the woman's voice as it echoed through the vast caverns of the old cathedral. The words echoed off of the towering walls, bouncing them and creating an uneven quality. Her plea resounded through the rows of broken benches; escaping through the broken door and hitting the charred alter.
She stood in the front of the old, once-sacred building, her face turned towards the back, away from the shattered remnants of a stained glass window. An expression of undeniable understanding had formed on her soft, thin face, and her blue-green eyes shone with a breed of hate that she had never wanted to know. As she spoke, her black hair, tossed behind her shoulders, seemed to shake, though she herself paid no attention. There was no question that she was beautiful, even in the panicked state, and seemed to hold a royal bearing.
The dress she wore was made of glimmering gold material and had recently been floor-length, though it was now so tattered and ripped at the bottom that it was impossible to tell from observation. A gold necklace chain bearing a polished blue stone, hung loosely around her neck. The stone shone with a strange sort of brilliance, as if it had its own light, and looked to hold a power. She continually placed her shaking, sheet-white hands over the stone.
The voice was straining, begging for someone to hear and to reply. Upon first hearing it, one would believe it to be prayer. Indeed, that's what it sounded like. Listening further, the truth would come out.
Deep within the voice there was a primal fear. She was struggling to keep it down, but found it a difficult task. As she continued, it clawed outward, and would soon be distinctly understandable. For the moment, however, she kept it to herself.
Suddenly, her voice rose higher, becoming more nervous. "I cannot allow you to do this to me… to us! I am warning you, I implore that you stop in your business! Do not proceed further, or you will be taken down. You know you will!"
As she said this, she took a shaking step backwards. Glistening with the beginnings of tears, her eyes were focused on a shadow moving towards her easily, walking with what was almost a glide.
The other was most definitely a human, though the features were hidden in the shadows. The silhouette was tall and almost excessively thin, but beyond that there was just the shadow. It was almost like looking into the darkness and sensing something. Not seeing, sensing.
Unheeding of the woman's words, it continued forward, that unnamed being. There was purpose in the slow stride, and a sort of aura that beckoned fear to become aroused in the hearts of those who watched, whether it was from a distance or from nearby.
"No," and now the woman's voice had lost nearly all of its strength, all control it had retained over the fear. "Stay away. Go! Leave me alone!"
"Silence," the voice was cold, with a hardness reflecting unseen years of pain, of things seen and remembered, of wrongs done to everyone. It was another woman, unless the voice lied, but one that was more bitter than hopeful, more hateful than loving, more willing to murder than to give another chance.
The shadow woman strode forward, her strides lengthening, as if she wanted to be finished in a hurry. When she stood only three feet from the first woman, she stopped, and the moonlight flashed off of the hair that, in the dark light, seemed to be a dirty brown, but was not.
Lifting her chin slightly, the first held her ground, seeming to realize that it was over, that all deals were off. "So this is the beginning."
"Or the end," the shadow laughed harshly, a sound like grating rocks. "Depending on how you look at it, Malera."
Malera simply stared back, her eyes mixtures of hate, fear, and a receding kindness. "Goodbye."
Unknowingly, she clasped the stone in her hand again. The other looked at it and grinned, nodding her head slightly. "It is well. Good night."
As she had walked up, her left hand had been hidden in a loose pocket of the jacket she wore. Now she pulled it out, bringing a dagger up with it. Light gleamed off of the curved, silver blade, and the sharpened end reflected death itself.
"I leave," Malera spoke with emotion overflowing from her soul. It hurt her to have to say so, to have to give in, but that was all she could do. There was more than the dagger, and she couldn't escape the rest. All she could do was to take it with calm resignation.
It was as it should be, as it was written to be. It was as all had been told, as all had been foreseen from the beginning. It was as it was. That was the way of the world those days; that was the way they followed.
"I give you leave," the shadow woman nodded, and, in a flash she had plunged the dagger deep into Malera's chest. She stepped back as the blood gushed out, pumping out of her veins and splattering onto the dusty floor below, pooling together to form small maroon puddles.
Malera's eyes rolled into her head, and sickening noises, half gurgles and half chokes, emitted from her throat. Her arms waved wildly, and her hands struggled to keep the stone, to keep it away. For the moment she was alive, but she way dying, and she knew it.
There were a series of clicks from inside her chest as the blood began to drain further, and she saw that a waiting grayness had begun to encompass her vision. In that moment, she saw the other's hand reach forward. She tried to wave it away, but it grabbed for her neck, pulling the chain off.
For Malera, a woman who had never in her life been injured, had never been treated the least bit unkind, it was the final act of treachery that she could stand. Now that the stone was gone, now that she could she the woman holding it, could see it's glowing radiance, she knew she was finished, that nothing mattered.
Giving in, she felt the gray begin to swamp her, to take on a darker tone. It wanted her, and she was letting it take her. She was letting it end all… For her, at least. For the other woman, for everyone else still living, there would be life, or as much life as there could be.
As she was falling, she saw flashes of what was to come fly by her mind. A meeting gone chaotic, with those in attendance flying at each other in a rage. A woman standing with an axe, snarling wildly as she swung the weapon. A man on horseback (or was it a unicorn?) his eyes wide with passion. Another man, this one standing beside a giant reptile, one she immediately took as a dragon. A wave of men and women rushing at each other, like tidal waves, rushing in…
And than, for her, the horror was over.
The shadow woman pulled the dagger out of Malera's chest, than wiped it off slowly with a cloth she had picked up. There was no need to have the blade rust, no need at all.
As she cleaned the dagger off, she glanced at the woman on the floor, the one from the royal family, and grinned slightly. Her suspicions had been correct, it seemed. This one had been a guardian. The guardian of the white.
Shoving the dagger into it sheath, she picked up the necklace and studied the stone on the end. It really was very beautiful, she saw, and was slightly awed by it. The inner power she felt from it… if only she could harness that, could use it for her own.
That was not, however, what she was meant to do. She pulled the chain over her own head, decidedly liking the feel of the stone against her skin. It was the power, she could feel it. Not like a physical feeling, it wasn't pulsing or shaking, or even radiating heat.
It was inside, something that came from it. There was no question in her mind that this was it, not now. Anything that felt like that had to be the power, had to be. Certainly imitations could be made, there were plenty of craftsmen who could do so, and even the magicians could place a sort of power in it, but this…
This was beyond anything she had ever felt. Again, she felt a slight impulse to run, to forget everyone else, but she ignored it easily. Why shouldn't she, after all? She was loyal, always had been.
Besides, she couldn't make it work. She wasn't skilled in that area, in releasing the magic of the enchanted… All she could use was her own, and that she scarcely did, preferring the traditional methods of weaponry.
There was no time to dwell on that, though. At the moment, nothing could be done to stop what had begun to take its course, and she had to be going. If she wasn't back soon, they were likely to look for her. And when Janyer sent someone out to find you, you were unlikely to live long enough to explain yourself.
Reflecting, she started towards the door, not bothering to look back at the body she had left. She didn't mind Janyer's way, for her, it was the best way. It took out the weak, let the strong live. So he wasn't known for his compassion. So what? Big deal.
As she stepped out of the church, she felt a cool night breeze blow against her face, chilling her pleasantly. The night sky was beautiful, she noticed as she started out of the yard, heading towards the dark forest. The stars were gleaming brilliantly, unseeing of the terrors beginning on earth.
Terrors, was that the right word? Of course it was… But then, how did one define terrors? For her, terror was what nearly everyone seemed to refer to as 'good.' They were guardians, mostly, and anyone who sided with them and their ideas.
But what, really, was good?
These were questions she had wondered about constantly, and wasn't sure she would ever find the answer to. Not that she cared. As she started down a path through the forest, she knew she didn't care. All she cared about was killing. All she cared about was winning.
That was all she needed to care about. As she pushed onward, she knew that it was so, and was quite glad of it.
Glistening onto the forest floor, the patches of light from the moon were brighter outside, and her face could be more clearly seen, though soon she'd be away from that. Her face, like the rest of her body, had a light complexion, and seemed to have a roughness to them. Her eyes were a deep blue-purple, and full of reflection and emotion. As she moved on, however, the trees began to block the light, until there was next to none.
The forest was dark, matching her mood, and she walked briskly, her long legs carrying her cat-like body easily. Nighttime was her favorite, around midnight was the best. It was why she had been chosen for that particular job, why she had been sent above the others.
One of things she prided herself in was this strange need for the night. It had helped her along greatly, and why shouldn't it? After all, much of the work was better suited for the night.
Suddenly, she stopped and looked around. No one was coming, no one could come and see her… Good.
Without another look back, without hesitation, she stepped into the darkness of the forest and disappeared into the trees, leaving the pathway open and empty, as she hoped to make the world.