The Guardian’s Echo

The Chain and the Anchor: Soren

It was more than twenty-four hours since I’d slept last. When I was younger, I could stay wide-eyed and alert on a battlefield for days at a time, fueled by adrenaline and the grim necessity of survival. Now, though, my age was starting to wear on me in ways I hadn’t anticipated. Between the ride, the energy expenditure for the magical alarm, the training, and the mental tax the figure at the inn had caused, I was wavering. The dark trunks of the iron-bark elms were beginning to bleed into the shadows behind them as my vision started to swim on the edges.

I was hyper-aware of how close I was to Penny. The protocol I’d spent centuries perfecting had crumbled in just a matter of days. I could feel the heat radiating off her body, a steady warmth that seemed to pull at me.

I reflected on my promise to be her chain, to ground her, and keep her safe. It was a heavy promise, but as I watched her, I realized the truth I’d been avoiding. I wasn’t just protecting a queen’s mother. I was protecting the only woman who had made me feel like more than a weapon in over a hundred years. To the Crown, I was a shield. To Penny, I was just Soren.

Penny’s sleep appeared fitful though. Her hand was loosely curled in the spot where I’d held it. I sighed softly, the sound lost on the breeze. I was still sitting against the rough bark of the elm, using the discomfort to stay awake while I watched the fire, keeping it stoked.

The wind blew through the trees, causing the branches to creak. Tonight, it didn’t sound like flutes. It almost sounded like whispers — disjointed syllables of a language long forgotten. The grey mist of my alarm shimmered in the periphery of my vision, and I squinted, unsure if I was seeing an actual figure standing on the other side, or if the forest was playing tricks on my sleep-deprived state.

I looked down at Penny again. Even with her brow furrowed and her lips curled down in her sleep, she looked younger. The stress lines had been smoothed out by the elven glow of her waking heritage. She looked like she belonged here, amidst the silver leaves and the humming earth. I reached out, my hand hovering over hers as I hesitated. I felt a sudden warmth in the space between us. Our energies weren’t just touching, it felt like they were searching for each other.

I pulled my hand back, rubbing my eyes as I fought another yawn. I knew, logically, the alarm would sound if there were intruders in our camp. It was tied to my own heartbeat; it wouldn’t fail. I just couldn’t convince myself to lay down though. Even as my head began to fall forward. I felt like a sentry at the edge of the world.

I jerked myself awake again, and looked around the camp. My sword was in my hand, my heart racing. The forest was silent though. There were no satyrs, no intruders, no flickering figures. Just the soft whistle of the wind beyond the trees.

I couldn’t stay awake — a bitter admission. As reluctant as I was to admit it, if I didn’t rest, I would be useless if there was an actual threat.

Slowly, I laid down. I didn’t move my bedroll though, protocol be damned. I stayed close enough that if Penny moved, I would wake. Sleep was finally claiming me, and the last thing I thought about was the way Penny’s eyes had looked when we were sparring. The way they’d lit up with excitement and pride when she successfully parried my dagger for the first time. It wasn’t the look of a student, it was the look of a woman coming alive.

A few hours later, the pale light of dawn began to filter through the silvered leaves, illuminating our camp in a soft glow. I woke up with a start, my internal clock realizing that I’d been sleep for too long. As I opened my eyes though, the panic died in my throat.

At some point in the night, the cold of the Highlands must’ve drove us closer together. I had turned onto my side, and Penny’s head was tucked into the space between my shoulder and chest. Her breath was steady and warm against my leather gambeson. Her soft hand rested on my leather-clad forearm, her fingers tucked under the edge of my bracer.

I stayed perfectly still for a moment. I didn’t even want to breathe for fear of breaking this peace. I was the most decorated General in Aethelgardian history, but in this moment, I would’ve traded every medal, every title, and every victory I owned to stay like this in this thicket for just one more hour.