Guardian: Protectors of Light
Melanie Houtman
Guardian: Protectors of Light
Melanie Houtman
Guardian: Protectors of Light
Copyright © 2015 Melanie Houtman
All rights reserved.
“Once upon a time, a long time ago, were six Spirits. These Spirits were called the Spirits of Light; the Almighty Spirit, the Spirit of Innocence, the Spirit of Life, the Spirit of Joy, The Spirit of Night and Day and the Spirit of Darkness. These six Spirits combined their powers to create a magical world and balance every element in it.
This last Spirit, the Spirit of Darkness, was young and ambitious, and he envied the influence its older brothers and sisters had on the world, compared to its own.
To these five Spirits, the good and the light were the most important elements, and were therefore the elements to rule their world. This left the Spirit of Darkness, as he was in charge for the bad and dark elements in the world, in the dust.
For many years, the Spirits lived in peace, in their very own Palace of Spirits. They watched over the six Realms and its inhabitants, making sure all lived well and peaceful.
And still, there was barely anything for the young Dark Spirit to do. He started to use his power to agitate the Lunariae, pursuing them to do the bad instead of the good; it was only a matter of time before the Spirits of Light discovered the chaos in the land was all his doing.
They decided to punish him. The Spirits turned the young Spirit into a human and locked him away in a dark prison; the worst mistake the Spirits could’ve ever made.
The Spirits believed that as a human, the young Spirit could no longer do any harm. But they couldn’t have been more wrong...
They’d forgotten that as they turned him human, they didn’t immediately strip him from his powers. The young human’s Spirit abilities grew stronger, and as the years went by, he grew angrier. Inside his prison, he trained his abilities, becoming less and less human, despite the fact he could never fully regain his spirit form. He would always remain a half-blood.
The young half-blood remained inside his cell for centuries, until he, after having been locked away for centuries, finally managed to break free from his prison.
The anger and envy he’d felt toward the spirits had grown stronger due to the dark he’d been trapped in; his Spirit had gone corrupt. Anger and envy had become hatred.
A battle commenced, which soon grew out into war; the Spirits of Light versus a young half-spirit with a hunger for vengeance and power.
The war lasted for thousands of years, and Lunaria suffered underneath it all; the Spirits were immortal, yet not indestructible. They fought the young Spirit, who they once called Asura, but who now went by the title of the Demon, but to Lunaria’s inhabitants, he’d be known as the Master.
He used the Spirit Realm’s pure energy and turned it against the Spirits, corrupting all surrounding land in the process.
This left the Spirits of Light outnumbered and defeated. The Master of Nightmares locked them away in the same dark prison as he’d once been.
From that moment on, with getting rid of the Spirits of Light, he’d be free to rule the Six Realms in Lunaria, without any fear of being defeated ever again.
Or so he thought he would.
Before they were trapped by the Master, the Spirits of Light sent their Sources of Light, which they once used to create and guide Lunaria to another dimension, hoping they wouldn’t be lost forever.
These Sources were sent to Earth, where they were meant to find a new vessel. Each of the five Sources would find a human being, pure enough to become a Guardian of Light.
Together, the Guardians would from the Bond of Light, the only bond strong enough to destroy the Master of Nightmares.
However, a prophecy was read by one of the Spirits of Light at the very last moment. It said that a thousand years would go by, with ten Generations of Guardians, yet only the tenth would succeed.
They called this generation the Generation of Hope.
The only Bond which would be strong enough to save Lunaria.”
“Wow, Daddy! That is the most awesome one yet!”
“Indeed it was, Daddy! Where did you find this one?”
A father by the name of Martin smiled at his two children. A boy and a girl; three and five years old. The girl was the oldest.
“Who knows?” he said, with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “Perhaps I made it up, or perhaps I didn’t. As long as you like it, it shouldn’t matter to you.”
Both his children were obsessed with fairytales; something he loved almost just as much as the children did.
Their parents would usually spend entire days telling them all the fairytales they could find. The boy’s name was James; the girl’s Samira.
Their parents enjoyed seeing their children enjoy something so simple; even when they grew older, their mother would continue reading them the stories their father used to.
It helped the two siblings forget the terrible accident that caused their father to be taken from them permanently.
“The Protectors of Light” turned out to be the story which would become James’s all-time favourite. He’d often make up his own stories of various Generations; they were as real to him as real people.
Even as he grew out of his childhood and got in his preteen years, the story stayed with him. Probably purposely, as the story was a way to keep his father close and the love he’d always shown for the little fairytale.
James was just a boy. A boy with an incredibly wide imagination.
A boy who was loved by many, who often made it very hard for anyone to hate or dislike him. Of course he had his flaws, but after all, everyone did.
James actually kept a lot of his childhood way of thinking with him as he grew up; he kept his belief in the paranormal, and especially his belief in Magic.
Nobody in his family truly believed in Magic except for him, save the support he received from his older sister. That’s one thing he knew. But he couldn’t help himself; he just spent night after night, reading the stories he’d written, which had been based on the Protectors of Light.
He often found his mind wandering, thinking about what would happen if Lunaria was a real place. What’d it be like if the Master didn’t reign over the Six Realms; what if the Spirits would’ve won? Or; what if there would never have been a war at all?
But what he never considered, were the consequences his obsession with this particular, seemingly innocent fairytale would bring later in life..
I
The Five
Thirteen years later
A gloomy autumn morning announced itself. The sun tried to break through the thick pack of clouds hanging overhead, but without much success.
A post office van stopped in the middle of the street, at the sidewalk by number 32. The delivery boy left his van and opened the back to collect a package. He then entered the house’s front yard, off to deliver the said package.
From upstairs, a boy was looking out of his bedroom window, following the delivery boy’s every step as he walked into the front yard. The boy’s name was James Riverdale. His red hair lay on his head like flames, with two bright blue eyes sparkling underneath; a pointy nose between them.
“That’s got to be it,” James said. “It’s finally here!”
He made his way downstairs as quickly as he could, his feet drumming hastily on the stairs, but as soon as he’d reached the hallway, his eighteen-year-old sister had already answered the door.
“Package for Mr Riverdale,” the delivery boy said to her.
“Ah,” she replied. Her name was, of course, Samira. “I’ll go get him for you.”
However, she didn’t have to, as James walked up behind her, placing a han
d on her shoulder.
“That’d be mine,” he said. “Where should I sign?”
“Right here.” The delivery boy handed him a pen and a clamp board. James quickly wrote down his name and returned the clamp board, exchanging it for the package.
“Enjoy,” the delivery boy said, before walking back to his van. Meanwhile, it’d started to rain.
James shut the door, watching his package closely, until he noticed his sister was looking at him.
“What?” he said. Samira shook her head. She wore a big smirk on her face.
“Really, James? Ordering books again?”
James’s eyes shifted from his sister to the package in his hands. “Uh... Yeah?” he said. “What’s wrong with that?”
Sabrina rolled her eyes. “Well... You do know there’s a library just around the block, huh?”
James nodded. “I do,” he said, “but...”
“But what?” Samira said. “It’d be much easier if you just went over there and rented a couple books every month or so, instead of buying a bunch every month!” She spread her arms out while talking. “Renting books is free!”
James shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said, “but somehow I never find anything interesting inside that old library... But I do in bookstores.”
Samira crossed her arms. “Your call,” she said. She turned around and started to walk away. “But anyway, what books did you buy this time?”
“Oh, you just watch!” James shouted, as he ran past his sister, into the living room. “A bunch of the newest fantasy books. They looked really interesting!”
Meanwhile, his sister had bent over the coffee table and picked up the newspaper, and was busy reading an article. “Well, this might sound interesting to you as well,” she said.
James tilted his head as he looked at her. “What do you mean?” he said, as he moved over to his sister, who was pointing out an article inside the newspaper.
“Look!” she said. “The library’s closing for expansion next week; they’re giving away old books!”
“Really?” James said, as he put down the package on the table to have a closer look at the article. “Hey, you’re right! Sweet!” He looked at his sister as a big smirk grew on his face.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking, sis?”
Sabrina smiled at him. “I think you’re going there to snatch a couple of books.”
“I sure am,” James grinned. “First, I’m going to read one of these,” he said, while pointing at the still unopened package resting on the coffee table, “and when the rain’s stopped, I’m heading down there to take a peek! Old books are the best!”
He then picked up his package and disappeared out of the room, off to spend the morning stuck in a book.
Shortly after he’d gone upstairs, a blonde woman appeared in the living room. “I thought I heard James?” she said.
Her name was Cheyenne, James’s and Samira’s mother.
“Yes, he just left with another of his book-orders,” Samira said. “Well... At least he doesn’t spend his money on games or other stuff.”
Cheyenne smiled. “He’s got that love for books from his father, that’s for sure,” she said.
Samira chuckled, moving her hands to her hips. “Yes, he does,” she said. She shook her head; seeing how much James resembled his father gave her joy, yet also a sense of sadness. Thinking back to the way they lost them, James resembling his father was a lot less fun.
According to the doctors, Martin had died from the injuries he’d gained after a car accident; the same white lie Samira could remember her father coughing at her mother in his last conversation they ever shared. But still, Samira couldn’t shake the feeling something more had been going on.
It was a painful subject, of which they rather never spoke. And so they didn’t.
Samira let go of the thoughts about her father, and looked at her mother. “Well, I guess I’ll go check out what he’s up to,” she said. Cheyenne nodded.
