The Spiritguard

We head to a local diner - It's the only one in town, because Arcona Village isn't a very big place. We enter, get situated, and while we're sitting there with our menus in front of us, Kael thinks to strike up a conversation.

 "You know those stories they tell us, about that thing that happened a couple hundred years ago?" Kael starts.

 I look up from the menu. "You mean the…uh…" I say, buying time. I have no idea what he's talking about, to be honest.

 "The Spirit War," Kael elaborates. "When the three Kings of the Spirit World came into the world and attacked the country."

 "Yeah, what about it?"

 "Do you know anything about it?"

 "Kinda," I say.

 "Like what?"

 "Like, uh…the Spirits lost," I laugh.

 Kael furrows his brow and sets down the menu. "Yeah, but they weren't killed, if you remember. To stop the war, the main Spirits were sealed in crystal and placed all around the country where they could be protected, so that they can never be unsealed and rise again."

 "Uh-huh."

 "I've been thinking a lot today, and I feel like the Spiritguard is recruiting fewer and fewer people every year to join. It's almost like the whole situation with the Spirits is starting to become trivial. Like nobody cares anymore."

 "How can you say that?" I snap. "My father died fighting a Spirit just six years ago, I don't know if you remember that or not!"

 "I do, I do…" Kael holds up his hands and tries to calm me down. "That's not the point I'm trying to get at, Sigmund. My point is…don't you think that the Spiritguard should be recruiting more people as time goes on, not less? What if the Spirits find a way, somehow, to break the seals they're placed under? We'll be in the middle of another war in the blink of an eye. Our country's strength now compared to back then is pitiful. We barely have weapons that can fight Spirits, Sigmund. We have all of these archaic swords and stuff that were made dozens of years ago, and nobody is bothering to research new technology. They have guns, now, but those don't work on Spirits, they only work on people. It seems like everyone is more concerned with fighting each other than fighting against the real enemy."

 "You mean with the military and the wars to the north and east?" I ask. Kael nods. That's exactly what he's talking about. "I guess I see your point," I say. "There's not much being done to fight against the Spirits, but a lot is being done to fight against other countries, and gain territory. Most people join the real military, or go to University. Not many people become Spiritguards, because they aren't paid very well and they are becoming less and less useful."

 "That's the thing," Kael goes on. "Spiritguards are becoming less and less common, NOT less and less useful. There's as much of a need for them now as there was fifty years ago, but there's only half of that amount now. You…Your father might not have died if there were more Spiritguards with him that day. He went on that mission with only one other person."

 I notice the waiter is walking up to us, and I hold out the menu. "Water, and the house salad with tomatoes, please," I state.

 "Same," Kael meekly follows my lead. The waiter nods and walks away. Whenever I go out to eat with Kael, he always orders the same thing as me. Sometimes I wonder if he just has the same tastes as me, and trusts my decision, or he doesn't want to make a decision by himself.

 "I just…I want to become a great Spiritguard," Kael decides. "One of the best there is. That way…even though there aren't a lot of us, I'll be able to protect the country. I don't think the current level of peace we have with the Spirits will stay this way forever. At some point, something bad will happen, I know it. And only the Spiritguards will have the tools and the means to protect everyone. What if there's a Spirit uprising? What if one of the Spirit Lords manages to break through like they did seventy years ago!?"

 I sigh. "What if." I roll my eyes and drum my fingers against the table. "They've got that new system hooked up everywhere that monitors Spirit levels. If there was enough energy for a Spirit Lord to break through, they'd have known about it by now."

 "And if they do find out about it, all we have nowadays is a bunch of untrained Spiritguards with rusty swords," Kael finishes. He can tell that I don't want to continue the conversation. It's not something I want to think about.

 I know that there's a real threat with the Spirits. That's the exact reason I wanted to join the Spiritguard. If he's not aware of this by now, then I don't know what to tell him. Still, I feel like I'm being lectured, and if there's one thing Sigmund doesn't like, it's a lecture. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred, I prefer to figure things out on my own. Probably not going to be much room for that in Spiritguard training, though. I guess…that should worry me a bit. It won't just be about how good I can fight. They're going to be testing me on all sorts of knowledge and lecturing me on all of the little details of Spirits. I'll have to know the different types and characteristics of each one, memorize what types of climates they like, what they eat, how they fight, what colors and shapes they come in…not fun.

 As we get our food and stop talking, my mind starts to wander a bit. I think back to the day that my father died. I was still pretty young, when it happened, but I've certainly heard the stories plenty of times. The Spiritguard that was with him was close to the family, so he's told my mom several times, how my dad lived out the last few moments of his life.

 It was an ordinary day during the winter, and winter…well, not many Spirits like the cold, so they tend to not appear often. But one day, a portal suddenly opened. It was a bigger, stronger portal than had ever been seen in the area for over twenty years. Dozens of Spirits spilled out of it, all wolf-type, and they escaped into the local forests and began to devastate the wildlife there. One of the main issues, though, was that a Spirit Marquis had come through the portal as well.

 Any Spirit with a title is cause for concern, and the titles work like this. Normal Spirits are referred to as 'Pawns', and they are no big deal. After that, the next class of Spirit is a 'Knight'. These are again pretty normal, but they're a little rarer, and they normally take one or two Spiritguards to kill. After the Knights, there are Barons. These are Spirit Nobility, and they have much more power than a Knight. After that, there are the Counts, and then finally the Marquises. Marquises are the most powerful spirits that can come through portals, nowadays. Anything in a rank higher than 'Marquis' belongs to the Spirit Lords, and those are the Princes, the Dukes, and the Kings. Spirit Lords require a huge amount of energy to make a portal, and that kind of energy just isn't around anymore.

 The Spirit Marquis that came through the portal was also a wolf, but this one was, from what I understand, four to five times the size of a normal wolf, and had piercing golden eyes that held with them a type of sentience. Spirit Pawns and Spirit Knights tend to not have intelligence, but some of the Barons and most of the Marquises are able to speak and communicate.

 When my father heard about the wolf Spirit that had breached near the town, he and his friend went to go find and kill it. My father was a strong Spiritguard, so there was nothing he couldn't accomplish. When they found the wolf, though, it brought all of its accomplices with it and in unison they attacked my father. As strong as he was, he couldn't take on fifteen Knights and one Marquis all at once. His friend helped him, and together they managed to kill the entire group, but my father was mortally wounded. His friend tried to bring him back to the village to get medical help, but my father died before he could be helped. All we have to remember him by is his legendary sword that even now is in our house. It is called Crossed Heart, and it's been blessed with a ton of Divine Powers. When it touches a Spirit, it causes them extreme pain and has the power to sear their flesh. When cutting through a Spirit, the blade is sharper than steel, and it's virtually unbreakable…

 Of course, there's a catch. That sword can't be used unless the owner has accepted death into their heart. Hence the name comes from that old phrase…'Cross my heart and hope to die.'

 If someone isn't willing to give up their life at any moment, then the sword won't work for them. It will bounce right off the Spirit's body and won't be able to cut through them at all. Only someone ready to die fighting for what they believe in can use that sword effectively. If there's one thing I've inherited from my father, it's that will. I would gladly put my life on the line, and even die if I had to, to fight against the Spirits and protect those who I care about.

 Kael and I leave the diner and we part ways for the day. It's been a long day for him, and he had a lot of stress about coming to Commencement Day, so I don't push it. On a normal day, we'd have spent the entire day together, but he needs to go get some rest and sort things out. Plus, he's one of those people who wants to go try on his uniform and see how it fits and all that nonsense. He probably wants to go look over all the paperwork they gave us that I conveniently forgot to pick up copies of, too.

 I breezed through the paperwork while they were talking about it. I know all the nonsense they want us to do and know all the rules. I don't need to study them like Kael. I'm naturally smart.

 As I walk home, by myself, I start thinking about that strange girl from earlier. Kavella. I wonder, how is it that she looked so prim and proper, even though her clothes were in that condition? I'm guessing those are the only clothes she had. She came from somewhere far away, I bet, and those clothes had to withstand through the journey. Now I'm kind of curious to see what she'll look like tomorrow when she's got her uniform on…

 Speaking of those uniforms, I haven't even looked at it yet. Every year the uniform is completely different, while all the staff are allowed to wear normal clothes unless they're currently on combat duty. The combat uniforms look great; they're blue and white. They stand out and they offer nothing as far as camouflage goes, but the Spiritguard doesn't need to blend into the background. That's because Spirits don't need their eyes to see us, so camouflaging doesn't do much good.

 I look down at the uniform. When I get home, I'll need to check it out. Hopefully it's not weird and off-putting, like the uniforms of last years' graduating class. I don't know what they were thinking, but all of the recruits last year had to wear tight yellow pants…well, more like manila. They were a teensy bit more yellow than skin tone. If I have to go through that, I'm done.

 I can't tell what my uniform is going to look like. Everyone had theirs wrapped up back at Headquarters, and mine is wrapped up too. It'd be a pain to unwrap it in the middle of the street just to look at it, so I'll wait until I get home. The cloak it's wrapped in doesn't seem awful, though. It's a super dark purple color, almost black. I'm guessing the outfit will have some of that same deep purple to it, because the cloaks normally match the outfit.

 Oh god. That dark purple is going to be awful to wear, especially in this temperature. It's way too hot for that. Maybe it'll be special cooling gear that keeps you feeling fresh in any climate. That'd be nice…and probably not far from the truth. I've never actually noticed anyone, trainee or otherwise, who complained about the heat or the cold. Something about those uniforms must work for all climates, because people march around in them from the desert to the tundra with no problem whatsoever.

 As I walk around the corner and I reach my house, I look up to my front door and I see a man standing there, waiting for someone. White pants and a burnt orange jacket. He's a man from the company, no doubt about it. Vitarine.

 He turns to me just as I roll around the corner, and gives me a sneaky smile. I feel a slight sinking feeling in my stomach, but nonetheless, I step towards him.