The Guardian’s Echo

The Weight of the Morning: Penny

I woke slowly, the cold air infiltrating my senses and sending a shiver through me. My hand was encased in a warmth that felt like a lifeline though. I didn’t open my eyes immediately, letting my senses continue to fill in the gaps: the smell of woodsmoke, the distant sound of a rooster crowing, and the steady, grounding presence of Soren.

The nightmares resurfaced in my consciousness too. I remember the cold silver of the Weavers and the terrifying silence of Anya’s empty, Chicago apartment. I also remembered a voice. There had been a low, gravelly vibration that pulled me out of the dark.

I finally opened my eyes to find Soren sitting in the chair he’d pulled up to the bed. He was slumped over, his forehead resting against his arm as he slept. His ‘protocol’ hadn’t allowed him to lay in the bed with me, but he’d stayed by me through the night until his body forced him to sleep.

He must’ve felt my movement. I heard a small gasp — the sound of a man realizing he’d fallen asleep on the job — and he sat up with a jerk. He blinked as his eyes adjusted to the pale shadows of the room. He looked weary, even as the mask of the general slid back into place.

Gently, we disengaged our hands, but I could feel the hesitation in it. I pushed myself up to sit while he stood up, his joints popping. I watched him move to the window and peek through the curtains, and after a moment, I joined him.

The village of Runethorne Vale was fully awake now. It was no longer a silent museum, but a beehive. People were hauling water, shouting greetings to neighbors across the street, and gathered in small, anxious groups.

I could feel a pull, tugging me to the people below. Their confusion felt like a weight on my chest. “They’re looking for Rose,” I murmured.

“Are you ready for this?” Soren asked, his voice just as quiet as it had been in my dreams.

I nodded without hesitation. “I am.”

The air in the room felt thick as we prepared. Neither of us really ate as we dressed in our now-dry clothes. Soren buckled on his armor, the metal clicking with a finality that said the peace of the night was over.

“We need to find the Warden’s Keep,” Soren explained while I laced up my boots. “If I remember correctly, it’s a small stone tower on the edge of town. If the Wardens are here, that’s where they’ll be.”

I nodded wordlessly. I was still hesitant to leave the village, with or without the Wardens, but that was an argument for later.

As we descended the stairs into the inn’s common room and out onto the street, I began to feel overwhelmed. I was struck by a vividness that hadn’t existed yesterday. The colors of the villagers’ tunics were bold, I could smell the fresh mud on the bank of the Silver Run River.

When we reached the village square, a hush began to ripple through the crowd. Eyes turned towards me. They seen the light in my eyes, the shape of my face, and the way the air around me steadied.

A group of elderly villagers — those who were old even before the freeze — stepped forward. They didn’t look at Soren, and I could feel him tense beside me. I knew without looking that his hand was probably on his hilt. The villagers looked at me with a terrifying, desperate hope.

A woman reached out, her fingers barely brushing my sleeve. “You’re her,” she breathed, her voice barely a whisper, full of astonishment. “The daughter of starlight. Tell us, Lady… is the time of the shadows finally over?”

Before I could answer, a horn blasted from over the ridge. It wasn’t a silver, heroic sound like the trumpets in the capital. This was a distorted, metallic blare that echoed through the valley.

Soren drew his sword now, stepping into a defensive stance. “They’re here,” he growled. “Penny, get behind me.”

I didn’t move behind him. I couldn’t. The pull from the crowd was too strong. It felt like hundreds of invisible threads tying my heart to theirs. If I stepped back now, those threads would snap, and I’d leave these people to the same darkness that had tried to swallow me in the manor.

“No,” I said, my voice surprisingly steady. I stepped forward instead, coming level with Soren’s shoulder. “I will not hide.”

The distorted horn blasted again, closer this time, and the sky above the ridge began to ripple like oil on water. The villagers cried out, a wave of panic surging through the square. The woman who had touched my sleeve fell to her knees, sobbing. Men scrambled to grab whatever they could find, pitchforks, wooden beams — pathetic defenses against an enemy that wanted to unmake time.

“Listen to me!” I shouted, surprised by how my voice resonated through the square. A pulse of lavender light flared from my skin. It wasn’t a blinding explosion, but a warm glow that pushed back the unnatural chill in the air.

The square went silent as hundreds of eyes turned to me.

“I am not Rosariel,” I started, and I saw the flicker of heartbreak on the older faces. “But I am her blood. My name is Penny, and I didn’t wake this valley just to watch it burn. The shadows are coming, yes. But we aren’t ghosts!”

I looked at Soren. He was watching the ridge, his grey magic already swirling around his blade. He shifted his stance slightly, not to push me back, not to stand with me.

“General,” I continued, my voice loud enough for the whole square to hear. “Tell them what to do.”

His head snapped toward me, his eyes wide with a momentary shock before the soldier took over. He understood what I was doing. I was the heart, but I needed him to be the steel.

“You heard the Lady!” Soren roared. His voice cut through the valley like a thunderclap. He pointed toward the heavy stone foundations of the tavern and the nearby store. “If you have the strength to haul water, you have the strength to haul stone! Barricade the main thoroughfare! Anyone with a bow or a hunting spear, up to the rooftops! They hide in the shadows, pull them into the light!”

The commoners, galvanized by the authority in his voice, began to move. The terror didn’t vanish, but it turned into purpose.

“The Wardens,” I whispered to Soren as he began directing a group of younger men toward the keep. “I can feel them, Soren. They aren’t in the tower, they’re coming from the woods.”

Before anything else could be said, the air at the edge of the square darkened before it split open. Three shadowed figures stepped through. The centeral figure was a woman. She wore a midnight black gown that seemed to swallow the light around her. A cloak was draped over her shoulders, but she had the hood down. Dark hair spilled over her shoulders, framing a face of sharp features. Her lavender eyes were glowing with a ring of red around them. The two figures flanking her looked as if they were living shadows, staying in place as she stepped forward.