Alice stands at the top of one of the towers of the clan headquarters, overlooking the bustling market of the capital and the tall houses that climb the hill to the summit, where the palace of the royal family is located, with towering towers from which aircraft soar. Her black hair with blue tips waves as it is caressed by the wind, and the girl's face reflects a profound inner peace as she takes a deep breath.
If there's one thing that never fails during each visit to the headquarters, it's the moments of reflection taken by the young warrior on the upper floor and a short break alone, arranging her thoughts, especially when about to undertake a very complicated task, one in which she doubts if she can return alive.
She gazes at the horizon where the capital city resides, surrounded by towering walls that almost seem to touch the sky, providing somber protection to the citizens of a country distant from the holy war.
Alice observes every building, the bustling streets, and the noise of citizens opening their markets, going out to buy, or pursuing some self”imposed mission to live their daily lives, whether born in the land of the guardians or having escaped from the holy war.
They are her people, part of a nation that has gained independence from the Templars and distanced itself from the holy war, in a neutral position, responsible for creating warriors to face all that is dark. It is a task of which Alicia Wilson is proud, and she remembers her reason for fighting”not out of hatred for the formidable enemy that will stand before her on the battlefield, but out of love for those behind her and those who fight by her side.
Alicia rests her gloved hands on the battlements, letting the wind lift her hair and gently caress her pale face, comforting her, easing the fear of the mission she is about to face.
The girl's attire is a gray long”sleeved jacket, open to reveal her torso covered by a fitted black shirt, emphasizing her prominent curves, and a well”defined muscular abdomen. She wears blue pants, tightened by a tactical belt, and brown boots with multiple laces. Her hands are covered by black gloves, exposing her fingers. She carries a suitcase as a makeshift bag, with its straps intertwined over her right shoulder.
The headquarters of the Night Wolves consists of a small fortress surrounded by high walls with connecting walkways, linked by six guard towers, forming a hexagon. Inside lies the high tower of homage, and at its top, the flag with the image of a wolf opening its jaws waves in a fierce manner.
Alice places her hand on the standard, looking proudly at that flag with drapes dancing in the wind. Being a guardian means a lot to her, being part of that clan that has become her family. She takes out a worn photograph from her pocket, but its image is still intact: three teenagers around the ages of 13 and 14, posing together to forever remember such a pleasant moment.
In the middle of the two boys is a girl with long black hair and thick dark circles under her blue eyes, a face marked by pimples with a wide ear”to”ear smile, revealing her white teeth. The arms of the girl are resting on the shoulders of the two companions of a similar age.
One is a young man with black hair, an eye patch over his left eye, and a shy smile on a face marked with some scars, revealing the hardships of training. The third young man stands out among his peers, his face covered by an enigmatic dark fabric mask, exposing only his brown eyes and two holes for breathing. Upon closer inspection, the mask reveals the slight curvature of a smile on his lips.
The three children wear the uniform of the guardian academy: an elegant jungle”green shirt adorned with golden buttons and military epaulettes on the shoulders. The outfit is cinched with a dark belt, black dress pants, and matching boots.
Alicia's smile widens, her cheeks blush, and a pure gleam shines in her blue eyes as she is overwhelmed by a nostalgic feeling. She brings the photograph to her chest, right over her heart. After a relaxing breath, she puts the photo back into one of her pockets.
Descending from the tower through the stairs, she completes the paperwork to pay her dues, both hers and Drake's, at the administrative area. Once the transactions are done, the guardian hurries out of the offices, passing through the training ground where many other guild members greet her and invite her to train with them. She politely declines, as she already has plans for the rest of the day.
Armored soldiers in suits of armor receive her at the entrance, and after an exchange of words, they open the gate using a pulley system pulled by chains. With a clear path, Alicia exits the guild headquarters and, before reaching where she parked her motorcycle, she must pass by the Heroes' Altar”a recreational park located in the fortress gardens, open to the public and very popular in the capital.
Hectares of well”maintained green forage extend through the area, adorned by tall statues of different guardians and warriors who played a significant role in the annals of history, from every corner of Grishland.
In the midst of this forage, there is a paved path of yellow squares, which Alicia walks along at a leisurely pace, tilting her head in deep admiration at each monument, each of which has a plaque with a legend at the foot of the statue.
Alicia has great appreciation for the historical figures, brave warriors who fought to the end in the age of decline, in the reconstruction of a world born from the ashes of the ancient and little”known age of the gods.
Halfway down the path, the guardian turns onto a rocky path decorated by an arch of bushes filled with orchids and vines of blue roses; the singing of birds and the splashes of a fountain are all she hears besides the pounding of her accelerated heart. This calm is only disrupted by the legend on the sign hanging on the last arch: Monument to the Order of the Shooting Stars.
Finally, her walk reaches a circular concrete platform adorned by a three”tiered fountain, with a stream of crystal”clear water rising proudly under the sunlight, reflecting the rainbow. Around the circle, there are six statues of majestic Greek”inspired warriors, dressed in armor and tunics from ancient times.
The young guardian has a second tradition before going on a dangerous mission, and that is to stop and admire a specific statue. This statue stands stoically in imperial posture behind the marble fountain, amidst all the other tributes to great heroes, placed there for young aspiring guardians to be inspired and follow the path of the broken sword.
At a calm pace, Alicia approaches with her hands on the backpack strap, her gaze absorbed by the statue, which personifies a knight in gold”plated armor reinforcing his entire body, with a helmet adorned with two horns; only his eyes are exposed, remembered to be blue and red. In the warrior's hands, he holds the hilt of a bastard sword, its blade looming over the statue's platform, engraved with a legend on a golden plaque:
“Sir Munraimund Trisary, god of heroes, protector of the realms of men, best friend of the traveler; founder of the guardians and true king of Trisary. Possessor of the strength of giants, with the greatest nobility and courage ever seen. May all evil fear the edge of his sword and the presence of his golden armor.”
“Thanks to you... the guardians exist... your teachings changed the world... and today I seek your help... to protect it. “Alicia puts her hand inside her shirt, taking out the medallion with the emblem of the broken sword. She holds it inside her fist, applying great force while carrying a deep emotion”. Grant us... your children... the opportunity to win, to save the Templar realms... and to return home to fight another day... to recount the stories of fair battles to our successors. I implore you to grant us a bit of your strength. “Her voice becomes tremulous, and she places her fist on her heart upon understanding the nature of the assignment given to them by the high command of the organization”. Also, forgive us for what we are about to do... intercede for us with the holy traveler, I implore you... noble Munraimund.
Alicia raises the medallion with determination, while her right hand maintains its fist shape pressed against her heart; her blue eyes become glassy, hinting at imminent tears. With trembling lips, she takes a deep breath and nods affirmatively before turning around. However, before she can even leave the monument, her attention is caught by an extended space next to the statue following Munraimund's tribute, breaking the uniform system of the six statues, but it doesn't surprise the guardian, given her knowledge of that ancient warrior.
“Arnold...”
The girl murmurs, harboring a certain empathetic sorrow as she looks at that empty space, evidence that there was once a statue there. She tilts her head over her shoulder and faces Munraimund again. A feeling of pity and remorse fills the girl as she learns the legend of the second founder of the guardians. Arnold Trisary, Munraimund's younger brother, the dark warrior, better known as the great sinner, the traitor, and the first known cursed.
Alicia shakes her head and resumes her path out of the monument to the order of the shooting stars; she finishes crossing what remains of the cobblestone path until reaching the midpoint of her journey through the gate of steel bars, facing the busy street with pedestrians on the sidewalks and cars alongside horses on the cobblestone road.
Near the entrance, her motorcycle is perfectly parked next to a streetlight pole, waiting for its black”haired owner. Alicia summons a helmet with her power, puts it on her head, and then mounts her iron steed, inserts the key, and as she starts the engine, the motor roars like a dragon exhaling black smoke from the exhaust pipes.
The scream of the machine invigorates her, an intense feeling of excitement, and instinctively she licks her lips. The girl grips the handlebar and the engine roars again for greater pleasure. With a smile, she accelerates, heading to the Maiden's estate.
After traveling the city road for an extended time of thirty minutes, the paved road is replaced by a dirt road surrounded by extensive green pastures with fences, and farms visible in the distance, as well as humble wooden houses. The hustle and bustle of the noisy capital fade away, and the symphony of nature returns with the wind's breath and the birds' song, only interrupted by the sound of the metallic steed leaving a trail of dust behind.
Near the walls surrounding the archipelago, there are the enclosures of the rural area, home to many estates dedicated to meat production and crops. The rocky road continues on a narrow descent surrounded by trees forming a shady arch, and at the end, there is a rusty metal gate in the center of a high barbed wire fence that extends to unsuspected limits.
Upon reaching the double gate, the guardian gets off the motorcycle, finding a tangle of chains with a padlock, but it's just a decoy, as the iron nets are merely tied. Upon opening the gates, the young woman enters with her motorcycle, only getting off again to close the gate; she knows the landlady and her friends well, if an animal escapes due to leaving the gates open or because of leaving a false step, the calves from one division will mix with those from another, chaos will ensue.
When the young woman approaches her iron steed, something catches her attention. On one of the trees next to the dirt road inside the estate stands a thick willow, its trunk adorned with several blasphemous legends filled with hatred painted in red, accompanied by drawings of crosses covered in spikes:
“Monster, get out” “Repugnant cursed” “Aberrations” “Go back to the infernal hole you came from” “May they be nailed to a thorny cross”.
These abhorrent messages loaded with discrimination and ignorance provoke an intense feeling of disgust in the girl, and above all, great pity directed towards her two friends; one for being cursed and the other for being dark.
Alice has experienced the bitter taste of being seen as an aberration by some people, especially in her travels through the Templar lands, as she is partly from the Republic of Free Thought. Rereading the word “cursed,” the guardian feels an itch on one of her arms, so she instinctively scratches it, feeling as if that insult is also directed at her, as, after all, after graduating from the Raft as guardians, they are all cursed in a way.
The roar of a moving engine and the sharp sound of blades cutting the grass interrupt the young woman's thoughts. Alicia turns around and sees in the distance a tractor moving on one of the hills in the green pasture, dragging a brush cutter, leaving behind a path of shaved grass.
The driver is Drake, who wears a bored expression due to the monotony of his work, for which he doesn't wear his imposing armor. His countryside work attire consists of brown suspenders pants, interlaced on his shoulders; a black”stained white shirt on the chest; the garment lacks sleeves, showing his huge herculean arms and slightly bronzed skin marked by scars. He wears lightweight black boots and leather gloves. On his head, he wears a wide straw hat.
“Hey, Drake! Over here! “The girl shouts, regaining her energy, greeting him by waving her raised arm.
In response, Drake turns off the motor, stopping his machine, and returns the greeting with his arm; after a few seconds, he gets off the tractor and hurries to meet his companion.
“Took you ages to show up! “Drake expresses when he greets Alice with a kiss on the cheek. The girl blushes at first, not expecting that gesture, then quickly changes to a frowning expression, feeling a nauseating smell of manure coming from the young tractor driver.
“Hey! What's wrong with you? If you're going to greet a lady, at least take a bath “Says the guardian, covering her nose.
“Alicia, please! “Drake smiles arrogantly as he states”: Drake Réquiem only bathes when the lady comes with affectionate intentions.
Alice puffs up her cheeks, snorting in annoyance, responding with a quick tap on the back of the neck, causing the guardian to massage his head with a look of aversion, as if facing the reprimand of a scolding mother. The young woman has assumed the role of authority for Drake, and Lance, since their days at the guardian academy, has kept them in check, monitoring their behavior. They even jokingly call her “ma~” as if they were teasing cows, mainly to annoy her.
“Seriously. You knew I was coming... with those unhygienic habits, you won't get a girlfriend. “Scolds Alicia, crossing her arms with a stern expression as she reprimands her fellow warrior.
“Yeah, mom...” Drake playfully snorts, rolling his eyes, eliciting a slight chuckle from the young woman at his comment”. I had to get ahead of the work that piled up in my absence, Anabel doesn't forgive.
Suddenly, Drake's friendly and jovial face turns into a bitter, serious expression, surprising Alicia. However, her confusion doesn't last long as she realizes he is not looking at her but at the willow tree behind him, on which those unhealthy blasphemies have been written.
“That's...
Alicia tilts her head over her shoulder, looking at the tree. She scratches her cheek awkwardly, unsure of what to say. Drake sighs in annoyance and strides purposefully towards the tree, forming a lumberjack's axe in his hand with a steely gaze. Without hesitation or mercy, he strikes the willow trunk twice, with a force that sends splinters flying, and the blade almost pierces halfway through the oak.
Drake finishes with a kick that finally brings down the tree, which falls loudly to the ground, rustling leaves scattered by the wind, and birds fleeing from the collapse site. The guardian lifts the trunk with both hands, with inhuman ease.
“It's too big to be carried by the tractor; I'll need the trailer... I'll come back later. “Drake gives up on his intentions, letting the trunk fall to his feet and nudging it with his foot so that the letters are facing the ground. Scratching his neck, he continues after a deep breath, calming his anger”. I'm not very popular with my neighbors; I think someone saw me training in the woods, and you know how rumors spread.
“It seems I was wrong about what you have to eat; you're still very strong. “Exclaims Alice, with her chin resting on her fist.
“You didn't completely miss it; I still have my strength and agility, although they're not at their peak. I can summon weapons, but they don't last long away from me. What I can't do is summon large weapons with more complex mechanisms. I used to be able to shoot hundreds of spears in a row, and now I can barely do a few things... “A hint of sadness reflects in his words, yet firmness in his conviction”. And I'm happy that way; I like to move fast. I can dodge bullets or block them if I make my armor thick enough.
Alicia furrows her brow in a pitiful look, unable to hide the compassion she feels for Drake, who remains indifferent to that feeling, or at least tries to ignore it and not delve into the uncomfortable topic.
“What are you going to do with the log, little one? “Alicia's question makes the guardian run his hand over his hair, wiping away the sweat, his eyes narrowed.
“I'm going to turn it into firewood... it's funny that they mention the thorn crosses, you know? They are known as the symbol of the damned. “Drake says coldly and for a second the crimson iris of his eyes dazzles a faint emerald glow”. In the age of heroes the Templars persecuted us, and crucified us until they saw that they can use us as weapons. Yet they continue this cycle of hatred, then come screaming that one of the damned they so humiliated or beat up raises a fist at them, calling us monstrosities without seeing themselves. “The cynical sentence takes on a very somber tone”. It is very easy for them to believe that the real monsters are simply those with a different condition, giving them the moral authority to “execute” them makes them feel a little better about themselves, and makes it easier for them to live without remorse.
Alicia understands Drake's point, she doesn't find his way of thinking inconvenient or odd, in fact, she thinks he got it pretty cheap. That young man's cynicism was born out of experiences that would drive most people crazy. For her part, the young woman is not free of those cursed stigmas, not being fully human.
“You are a guardian... you have the authority to make yourself respected with these people, racism is forbidden by law in this country. “Alicia speaks in a tone of indignation, putting a hand on her chest.
“Yes I know... it's not the first time it's happened and it really doesn't matter; once I wanted to look for those responsible, though Anabel stopped me, threatening me that we'd get in trouble for the business if I put on a show. It's been a long time since the last time we had a tree painted, they never get past that damn prank. Anabel just filed a complaint, maybe that will finally calm them down. “Drake wrinkles his brow, reliving that bitter experience in his mind”. She's been through the same thing, being a sorceress, and even in Trisary there are people very devoted to the church. People like us don't have it easy, that's for sure! She warned, with a warning that was more comical than aggressive. if you dare touch one of my little animals... I will hunt you down and cut you open I'll hunt them down and cut them open as if they were pigs!.
“If you say so and you're okay with that, I'll respect it. “Alicia adds with her hands behind her neck.
“A man should protect what he loves; those little animals are part of the proof of my work sticking my neck out killing monsters, and my ticket out of that life at some point in the future. “Drake soon regains his good humor, as he says that last joke.
“I'm glad you don't just spend your money on whores and entertainment, “Alicia says happily. She can't help but smile and then giggle a little.
“I use the money on my cattle, and then I spend it on whores and entertainment, besides paying rent and investing in buying more cattle. What good is life if you don't live it deliciously? “Drake makes his point with an air of arrogance, or at least that's what Lance told me when he was drunk.
Alicia caresses her temples muttering prayers to unknown gods, begging for patience, sneaking in unholy words. Drake can't hear, but doesn't think much of it.
“Speaking of our dear friend the condom head, where is he? He was supposed to meet us here.
“After a quiet, gentle chat.... “Drake mumbles, in veins marking his forehead, as he cracks his knuckles. Lance kindly offered to pay my rent, after the shit we got for his racing bullshit. Right now he went to work on his experiments in the barn.
“Good thing none of them ran away again. “Alice sighs in relief with a hand on her chest, “then we can discuss the terms of the mission over there.
“Sure! Just give me a chance to let Anabel know that I've finished my hours with the beast. “Drake adds, pointing his thumb at the tractor behind him, “I'll take the opportunity to take a bath and eat something. Working from sunrise to sunset leaves an empty stomach.
“If so, I'll say hello to Anabel while I'm at it. I haven't seen her for ages, since she's been riding on the roads.
Alice shrugs her shoulders, and then walks to the bike, getting on her mount keeping a space in the back. The young woman tilts her head over her shoulder, and taps the seat. Drake swallows as he is overcome with nerves, which ignites his cheeks crimson red.
“This... I”I think I'd rather walk.... “Drake's face breaks into a dazed smile. I'm superhuman, I'll be there in no time... Yes! I will.
“Come on! Don't be a sissy, you face monsters and ride horses and you're uncomfortable on a motorcycle? It'll take less time this way and you won't get so tired. “Alice grimaces, on the verge of bursting into laughter.
“Hey, I just don't like motorcycles, I feel like I'll get the crap beat out of me with one of those things. They're not like slow”moving tractors or any other vehicle with a body to protect you or seat belts. I prefer horses. “Drake adds more confidently”. They're loyal and well”behaved animals, they can even be your friends. Compadres always have your back.
“You sounded like an undeflowered brat with that last one.... “Alicia intervenes, invaded by the sorrow of others, with narrowed eyes. Horses and I don't get along very well since I was knocked down by one at the academy.
The guardian averts her gaze, puffing out her cheeks as she recalls her bad experiences at the Raft. She was able to excel efficiently in many disciplines, being horseback riding the only one where she failed miserably. She remembers that she was so angry with the horse that, at the first opportunity in the gallop exercise, she took out her thirst for revenge by hitting it with all her strength on the haunches, while burying her spurs.
The poor animal reacted by standing on its hands, in a thunderous neigh that was heard all over the training field. It should be noted that Alice was knocked down, and her mistake was to sulk in the saddle, which brought the spurs to sting very close to the bit. The young girl went flying, and fell into a thick puddle of mud mixed with cow shit.
From that day on, Alicia developed a phobia of riding horses, and even became paranoid, believing that all the equines in the world, for some reason, hated her, as if that incident had marked her with a curse.
“All for picking the wrong horse's balls?
Alice mutters, in a lack”luster look as she sees herself again, inside that thick, muddy puddle of mud mixed with shit. She had to bathe herself in ketchup to mitigate the smell.
“Did you say anything?
“Nothing! “He shouted loudly, to the extent that his voice became raspy”. Are you going to ride or not?
Drake finally gives in to the insistence, being one of his greatest weaknesses, being weak before the pressure of a woman. But the crimson warrior puts as a condition, the use of his armor as a means of security, so Alice rolls her eyes and accepts the request.
Once the red coating is activated, the guardian climbs onto the back of the motorcycle, clinging to some tubes on the sides of the seat, and before he can even tell that he is ready, Alice starts the machine and puts it in motion as it travels along the dirt road at high speed, leaving behind a curtain of dust and a high-pitched scream coming from Drake.
