The Guardian King

Chapter Twenty-eight

~ Ember

*

Monday morning brought a slight dip in the temperature, adding a cool breeze to my walk. Though I slept most of Sunday, lethargy lingered in my muscles. I hadn’t considered the impact healing Phoenix’s extensive injuries would have on me. Over a day later I still felt the effects of depleting my energy. I’d left a piece of myself in him and I could only hope that over time I would regain my essence.

*

“Good morning, my lady,” Winnie cheerfully greeted as I returned to my suite. “Are you excited to spend your day with the king?”

“How did you know he was taking over my training?” I asked.

“Winnie has big ears and a nose for gossip,” Freya answered.

“I do not. The staff picks up all sorts of information. Word gets around the castle.”

“Shall I select your attire, my lady?”

“Please, Freya. I don’t have the energy to put thought into my appearance today.”

“I thought you’d hit the ground running this morning,” Winnie said. “You’ve desired King Phoenix’s tutelage since you arrived.”

“I guess, but I can’t decide whether to be grateful or concerned by his sudden involvement in my training. I mean, why now?”

“Maybe he was finally able to clear his schedule. He’s very busy you know.” Busy nearly getting himself killed, I thought to myself.

*

Winnie laid out breakfast for the three of us, as part of our routine, while I let my mind wander. If I was honest with myself, try as I might to resist trusting Phoenix, I did believe his intentions in assisting me were good. My hesitation to spend the day with him stemmed from the fear of getting pulled further into his orbit. Pouring myself into healing him came with an unexpected side effect; not only had I left behind a piece of me, in the deepest regions of my heart I sensed a piece of him. A piece I viewed as a Trojan horse, ready to infiltrate my entire being. And the mere suspicion scared the hell out of me.

*

“Lady Ember?”

“Hmm?”

“I asked if you wanted butter or jam on your toast,” Winnie said.

“Oh, um, butter please.”

“Are you alright, my lady? Normally you are diving into the food before I can get it all laid out. What has you so distracted? Surely you aren’t nervous to spend time with the king, are you?”

“Winnie, let her breathe,” Freya chided. “If she wanted to talk to us she would.”

“Sorry, my lady.”

“It’s fine, Winnie,” I assured her. “I appreciate your concern and that you notice when something’s bothering me. You’re a good friend.” I looked to Freya and added, “You both are.”

*

Saving the full truth for myself, I explained the worry I carried over the king’s expectations of my abilities. As helpful as ever, they promptly provided the world’s biggest pep talk. By the time they had me fed and dressed, I felt more like myself than I had in days.

***

The only part of my schedule that hadn’t changed due to Phoenix’s interference, was my lesson with Ambrosia. “Good morning, my dear,” she issued her usual greeting when I arrived in the solarium. “We are going to do things a little different today.”

“Different?” I questioned.

“I want to review what you have learned thus far, so I can plan for future lessons.”

“Okay, where would you like to begin?”

“The guardian chain of command.”

*

I regurgitated what I remembered of Ambrosia’s lessons over the past two weeks. It wasn’t difficult. I found the entire guardian structure to be fascinating. “And so,” I concluded, “with the king appointing the high court as well as the governors, and the citizens electing the faction leaders, who determine the rest of the court members, there is a good balance between the God-appointed ruler and the entire guardian community.”

“You make an excellent pupil, Ember dear.”

“Only because you are a patient teacher.”

*

Precisely an hour into our session as usual, Phillip brought in a tea tray. As I reached for my cup of Earl Grey, Ambrosia stated, “Let’s move on.” She then placed a large book on the table and slid it towards me. I observed the cover and read aloud, “Noteworthy Kings and Leaders of Guardian History.”

“It’s important to know the rulers of our past as well as how they shaped our culture today.”

*

I flipped through the pages admiring drawings and photographs of the most important figures of the ages. A familiar face made me pause. “Phoenix is in here?”

“Yes, Phoenix was only twenty-three when he claimed the throne, making him by far the youngest monarch in our very long history.”

*

The topic reminded me of the conversation I had with him regarding whether he’d always wanted to be king. I closed the book, looked up at his grandmother, and said, “He told me, before he set his sights on ruling, he’d wanted to be a hunter.”

“He told you that? My grandson is ordinarily very private and doesn’t speak of his childhood to anybody.” I stifled the mass of feelings that cropped up at her statement and continued, “Do you know what it was that shifted his focus so entirely?” Ambrosia took her time sipping tea as she mulled over my question. She knew the answer, I could see it in her eyes.

*

“Perhaps that is a question you should put to the king himself,” Ambrosia suggested.

“I did,” I admitted. “He avoided answering.”

“Then it is not my place to do so.”

“Please, Rosie. I’m trying to get a better sense of the man beneath the crown… or rather, the ring, I suppose.”

*

Ambrosia placed her teacup on its saucer in the tray as she began, “Just before Phoenix turned nine… he committed a great act of selflessness and bravery. He risked his life to save another. After that experience he received a very clear sign of his destiny. He decided to fully dedicate himself to leading our people. What this book won’t tell you,” she added, placing her hand on the front cover, “is Phoenix was born with the heart of a king. Every quality he possesses, the good and the bad, has equipped him to take on the role he was created for.” She leaned back in her chair and added, “I believe we all have one defining movement that tells us who we are meant to be. Phoenix experienced his defining moment when he was only eight years old.”

*

Ambrosia hadn’t completely answered my question, but I was satisfied with the nugget of information about Phoenix she shared with me. “I guess my defining moment came when I learned the truth about being a guardian,” I stated. Her amber eyes twinkled when she smiled and gave a gentle nod.

*

I loved my time with Ambrosia. She quickly became a great mentor to me. She’d been delighted when I asked for help with my French, but said my guardian education came first. Time spent in Ambrosia’s presence made me so comfortable, I didn’t think twice in asking about a curious term I’d discovered during my time studying guardian law. We were just wrapping up our lesson when I asked, “I was wondering,”

“Yes?”

“What is a ritual of smite?” She stared at me with wide eyes as my inquiry took her by surprise. “That is not a topic for polite conversation, Ember dear.”

“It isn’t? Why not? It was mentioned in one of the books in the library, but it didn’t provide a definition.”

“I think it’s better we leave that for a future lesson. It’s a very grim part of our justice system.”

“Can you just give me an idea of what it means?”

“Oh, very well.”

*

Ambrosia clasped her hands and leaned forward onto the iron table. “What do you think of when you hear the word smite?”

“To strike a blow,” I answered.

“That is correct. It could also mean God’s withdrawal of his protection, but that is the lesser use of the word.”

“What does it mean in the context of the ritual?” She leaned back in her chair again and sighed, clearly hesitant to explain further, which only made me more eager to know.

*

After a long pause Ambrosia explained, “The ritual of smite is a form of judgment and punishment rolled into one. When the court calls upon the Council of Elders to make a ruling on a particularly difficult or controversial case, they can enact the ritual. It was originally established for traitors or unique offenders whose guilt is questionable or their crime was not black or white.”

“When is a crime not black or white?”

“Would you punish a man who broke the law if he only did so because his life was threatened?”

“I see what you’re saying.”

*

“In the ritual of smite,” Ambrosia continued, “God himself issues the ruling and, if required, the punishment.”

“How so?” I asked as I shifted to the edge of my seat in interest.

“The ritual is carried out on Spiritus Caeli.”

“The highest point of Eden? Where The King Trials are completed?”

“Very good, yes. The offender is taken to the edge of the peak and in front the entire court, Council of Elders, and many faction leaders, the king reads the details of the case and the accusation against them. The person in question holds the Hand of God… that is to say, the holy sword.”

“Why is the offender given a sword?”

“That is the unpleasant part. The sword acts as a lightning rod.”

“Oh,” I muttered in shock.

“It is a very harsh thing to be subjected to and not something to be taken lightly.”

*

“The offender is punished by being struck by lightning before their guilt has been determined?” I wanted to know.

“Not necessarily. I said The Creator makes the ruling.”

“So there isn’t always lightning.”

“No, there isn’t. There are a few different possible outcomes. True traitors are always struck. Those that are guilty of lesser crimes, or had justifiable reasons, are not struck directly but very near, which serves as a warning. And in rare occurrences of the person’s complete innocence there is no lightning at all. No matter the outcome, it’s a terrifying ordeal to go through.”

“How long has it been since the last ritual?”

“The ritual has not been enacted since the previous reign. As I said, it’s not something to be taken lightly.”

***

At noon, I had instructions to meet Phoenix in neutral territory; the ivory lounge. Aptly named for its lightness and cheery atmosphere, the ivory lounge was located on the top floor of the palace. While majority of the castle’s common areas were dominated by the masculinity of dark wood and stone, the lounge offered a feminine contrast of white walls and soft blush furniture. From the moment I’d first ventured into the room it immediately became one of my favorite places within the enormous structure. While I did enjoy the rich earthiness of the rest of the palace, the ivory lounge came as a refreshing change.

*

One commonality the lounge did share with the rest of the palace were the floor to ceiling windows. Natural light bathed the cozy room, and between each of the six large windows sat tall potted palms, adding a touch of life.

*

I passed through the lounge’s propped open doors and immediately my eyes landed on the dark hair and massive presence of the guardian king. With his back to me, Phoenix sat at the far side of the long room drinking espresso and reading a newspaper.

*

Though my steps were silent on the plush rug, Phoenix somehow managed to sense my presence. He turned his head toward me as I walked around the sofa he occupied and took a seat on the matching oversized-chair across from him. A large square ottoman stood between us, for which I was thankful, as I hadn’t yet recovered from the last time I got too close to him.

*

“You’re looking better rested than last I saw you,” Phoenix said.

“As are you,” I replied as he drained the last of his espresso and set the empty cup in the tray atop the ottoman.

“I have you to thank for that,” he replied. “Since you healed me, I’ve slept like a baby.”

“I’ve never understood how that became a saying,” I said. “Babies wake up every few hours.”

“I think it has more to do with the peaceful nature of their sleep.”

“In that case, I’m glad I helped.

*

“I have something for you,” Phoenix stated when he stood and walked to the mantel.

“You do? What for?”

“As an expression of my gratitude for what you did.”

“I didn’t do anything anyone in my position wouldn’t have done.”

“Ember, do not belittle what you did for me. Be proud of your ability and your compassion. Its a rare combination.” My cheeks betrayed me, responding with a blush.

*

Above the lifeless fireplace, Phoenix reached for a small drawstring bag. When he passed it to me, I accepted his gift and gave the bag a feel, before dumping it’s contents into my hand. “Jellybeans?” I said with a wide but curious grin. Candy would never not make me smile. “This is what I get for saving the life of the guardian king?”

“The first of many gifts of gratitude,” he answered, half-sitting on the arm of the sturdy sofa.

*

“The truth is,” the king continued, “I do not yet know much about you.”

“You haven’t exactly been around.”

“An error I plan to correct.”

“How did you figure out I have a particular weakness for candy?” I asked before tossing a couple pieces into my mouth.

“I noticed it the night of the ball. You know, that is the first time the companion’s ball has had a candy bar.”

“It was a good idea. You should do it again in future.”

“There won’t be any future companion’s balls during my reign.”

“How can you be sure? Wasn’t there a time you claimed you wouldn’t host at all? You can’t know that one day you won’t find yourself hosting it again.”

“I can and I do.” His searing gaze robbed me of speech so I busied myself with devouring the treat he brought me.

*

When I’d had my fill of candy for the time being, I pulled the strings tight on the bag and slid it into my pocket. I could have easily consumed the bag’s entire contents, but I’d lived a lifetime of curbing my gluttonous nature in an effort to conceal it from others.

“You didn’t have to stop on my account,” Phoenix stated.

“It’s awfully cocky of you to think that I did. I ate lunch just before I came here. I’m full.”

“Alright then.”

*

“What are we working on today?” I asked.

“Like I said before,” Phoenix replied. “I do not know that much about you, nor you me. I cannot be an effective trainer to you if you do not trust me. You will never trust me if you do not know me. And I cannot know the best way in which to train you if I don’t know at least the basics about you.”

“Okay. And how exactly did you plan to do that?”

“With a game.”

“A game?”

*

Phoenix shifted from the arm of the sofa onto the seat itself as he said, “Twenty questions.”

“Are you serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? Can you think of a faster way for us to get to know one another?”

“What things of substance can we learn about each other in twenty questions?”

“Let’s find out, shall we?”

“Fine. What are the rules?”

“We each take a turn asking the other a question about anything, but keep in mind, whatever question you ask you must also answer yourself.”

“Twenty questions with a twist. Okay, but what if you ask me a question I am not comfortable answering?”

“In order to pass on a question you must demonstrate one of your abilities.”

“That’s not fair.”

“How is that not fair?”

“You’ve already mastered your abilities. If you want to pass on a question, you can easily do so. Therefore, you have a huge advantage on me.”

“There is not a question you could ask I would not answer, little dove.”

*

I considered his proposal. It seemed like a slippery slope. I was extremely hesitant to let him ask me anything and not confident I could demonstrate any of my abilities on command. Yet… I couldn’t deny my curiosity about the guardian king. And I knew he was right. It would be difficult to train with him without a modicum of trust.

*

“So, who goes first?” I asked.

“The lady, of course,” he casually answered with a handsome grin.

“Of course,” I muttered in response and I began to search my mind for a question. I decided to start with something simple. “What is your favorite kind of music?” He leaned back against the sofa, placed an ankle casually over the other knee, and with an arm leisurely extended across the back of the furniture, said, “Gem told you I liked music, did she?”

“She did, but she didn’t mention what kind.”

“Well it rather depends on what I am doing. Old rock when I am weightlifting, jazz when I am working in my office, a little bit of pop here and there, and instrumental music when I am relaxing, which doesn’t occur often. Your turn.”

“Instrumental is a favorite of mine too, but I also enjoy modern day jazz artists like Norah Jones. But I guess what dominates my playlists is mostly soundtracks. Next question.”

“You don’t want to compare answers first?”

“Nope, what’s your question?”

*

After a brief pause Phoenix asked, “What is your most prized possession?”

“What makes you think I have one?”

“Everybody has one,” he stated. I cleared my throat and answered, “A sand dollar. According to my mom, my dad found it on the beach during their honeymoon. She gave it to me just before she passed.” With a solemn nod he replied, “My answer is also a gift from a loved one no longer on earth.”

“Really?”

“Does that surprise you?”

“A little.”

“I am king in large part due to the encouragement and mentoring of my grandfather, Ambrosia’s late husband. He was quite skilled at origami. On the day of my coronation, he gave me an origami dove.”

“Oh,” I uttered in realization.

“Oh?” he repeated in question.

“Nothing, I just thought of something.”

“Tell me.”

“It would count as a question.”

“I could give you a free one.”

“And bend the rules? No.”

“Well, it’s your turn.”

“What’s something you have never told anyone.” He thought to himself for a moment, before he looked at me. By the way he observed my face, he had his answer, but considered whether he wanted to give it.

*

Phoenix must have decided to trust me with his biggest secret because he opened his mouth and said, “I like to sketch.”

“Sketch?”

“Yes. When I have trouble sleeping I sketch. Nobody knows. It’s not really a secret, so much as something I like to keep for myself.”

“What do you sketch?”

“That… is another question. And it’s your turn to answer your own question.” I’d already decided what to reveal before being brave enough to pose the question. “I moved to Middlebrook because of a reoccurring dream I had of the mountains.” He mulled over my answer and responded, “Guardians are very self aware.”

“Gemma said that, though I’ve never felt it.”

“With your mother gone your soul was in want of it’s true home.”

“I don’t think I will ever get used to the fact guardians seem to know more about me than I know of myself.”

“It won’t always be like that.”

*

“It’s your turn,” I said,

“So it is.” With the hand that wasn’t sprawled across the back of the couch, he rubbed his short beard in thought, before he asked, “Where do you see yourself a decade from now?”

“Did this just become a job interview?” I joked.

“That’s not an answer.”

“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “I barely had a plan when I moved to Middlebrook and then I discovered I’m not human. I am very much living one day at a time and I doubt I could tell you where I see myself a year from now, much less a decade.”

“Just try,” he encouraged.

“Fine. I suppose if I’m optimistic I’d say I see myself having mastered at least half of my abilities and living quite peacefully among my people.”

“Where?”

“I feel very at home in Ilia, I’ll probably find a place of my own in the city.”

“I see.”

“What about you?”

“My trajectory is pretty much set. I see myself still being king with loyal friends by my side very much like now. The only difference being my plans to rejuvenate the tree of life and in turn strengthen the guardian race for generations to come.”

“What does that mean?” I asked in confusion.

“You’ll have to wait and see.” Phoenix’s vagueness never ceased to infuriate me.

*

In an effort to keep the conversation moving I asked my next question, “What does the tattoo on your hip say?”

“Serviteurs élus de la terre, gardiens de l'homme, mission avant tout,” he told me in his honey accent.

“In English?”

“Servants of the earth, guardians of man, mission above everything.”

“The guardian motto,” I stated.

“Good to know your lessons with Rosie are proving fruitful.”

“She’s been incredible.”

“She is an incredible woman. I wouldn’t be half the man I am without her.”

“That’s very humble of you to say.”

“I’m guessing that is yet another surprise to you?”

*

Rather than answer, I pointed out the obvious, “We seem to be at an impasse. I do not have a tattoo on my hip to translate.”

“Then I will ask, do you have any tattoos?”

“Yes.” He looked at me as though he awaited an explanation, which I didn’t plan to give. “You asked if I have any. I do. As to what it is or where it is… well those are entirely different questions. Is that going to be your next turn?”

“No.” He rubbed his bearded chin again and the softly asked, “What is your greatest fear?” I should have known at some point he would probe too deep.

*

I pulled the bag from my pocket and reached inside. With a green jelly bean in hand I used my telekineses to transfer the piece of candy to his empty espresso cup. “You’ve been practicing, mon ange,” he commented. “Well done.”

“I have. But my ability seems to be easier to access when I’m near you. Is it typical for guardians to more easily tap into their abilities when in proximity to others with the same gift?”

“It’s not completely unheard of. Am I to assume this means you prefer not to answer my question?”

“Correct.”

“Very well then, I suppose it is your turn again.”

“Hang on,” I said. “You aren’t going to answer your own question?”

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“Those weren’t the rules.”

“Would it please you if I did?” Before I could reply, Knox entered the room and swiftly approached the king. I watched as he whispered in Phoenix’s ear.

*

Phoenix sighed in exasperation as he looked at me and said, “I’m sorry, Ember. There is a matter which requires my immediate attention. Can we pick this up tomorrow?” I nodded as he stood. He bowed to me and headed for the door, but before he reached it, turned to say, “Unfulfilled destiny.”

“Sorry?”

“My greatest fear.” The king retreated before I could process what his answer meant.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~