Guardians of the Dark

Kasen checked himself out in the mirror against his closet door. He popped his hands in his jacket pockets and turned sideways. First left, then right. Not too bad. He wore the only denim jacket in his wardrobe – a dark-blue, almost-black colour – over a plain orange t-shirt and jeans. He had no idea what to wear to orientation, and since he and his father weren’t speaking, he couldn’t ask. He probably could, but, well …

Kasen shook the thought from his mind. His father made his opinion – and his choice – quite clear the previous evening. The choice of not standing by him, and of giving up on him, exactly like he’d done with Samael.

He took one final look at himself in the mirror, combed back his ashy-blonde fringe, and headed for the staircase. He stopped at the top of it, seeing his parents approach the front door. His father looked spiffily dressed in his General’s uniform, complete with the traditional red beret and medallioned shoulder pads.

“Bentley, are you sure you have to leave this early?” asked his mother, still in her pyjamas and with unkempt hair and no makeup. She glanced longingly up the stairs, upon which Kasen hid around the corner. “I know you didn’t leave things on the friendliest side last night … but Kasen would like for you to see him off.”

Kasen scoffed to himself. He did? Even if that was true, he doubted his father would agree. And his doubts proved correct.

“I’m sorry, Marian,” replied his father, removing her hand from his shoulder, “but it’s better this way.” A pause. “For the both of us.”

Kasen watched as his mother’s face fell. She pushed her hair behind her ears, sniffed, and stepped back. “Fine,” she yielded, “it’s your choice. Just remember, Bentley, you already cost me one son. I’m not losing another.”

General Bentley Traynor opened his mouth, but shut it again. Moments passed before he said, “I have to go now. Got to get to the Eastern Collection Point before the recruits do. I love you, Marian.” He grabbed his briefcase off the rack by the door, swiped his wrist over the panel, and stepped outside as the door slid open.

Kasen waited until the door slid shut, leaving his mother by herself inside, before he descended down the stairs. He tried his best to put on a smile. Or, if not a smile, at least some form of an excited expression.

“Oh, Kasen, good morning,” his mother greeted him, scrambling to wipe under her eyes. She properly closed her robe, and scurried over to the kitchen. “How long have you been … How did you sleep last night?”

Kasen walked to the dining table. It had been placed upright again, and the broken vase was swept away. The glass case, his so-called birthday present, was also gone. “Okay, I guess. Clay and I spoke a while before I went to bed.”

“Oh?” asked his mother, preparing his breakfast. She acted especially skittish this morning, although Kasen couldn’t blame her. A lot had happened the previous night. She swiped around on the control counter, pressed a button, and awaited the silver box. Kasen’s breakfast. She picked it up and carried it to the table.

“He also passed, then?” she asked.

Kasen nodded.

“That’s magnificent. I’m sure his mother would’ve been so proud of him. What’s – uh – his selection?”

“Gatherer,” answered Kasen as nonchalantly as possible. He slid onto a chair, and his mother put the box before him.

“That’s – well – you must be –”

“It’s fine, mom, I’m really happy for him,” Kasen forestalled her. He opened the box – which contained powdered eggs, cereal pellets, and milk – and dug in before she noticed how he gnawed on his teeth when he spoke.

His mother just stood there, watching him, for a second. She twirled her thumbs, likely wondering whether she should say anything else. She didn’t, though, and rushed back to the kitchen to prepare his lunch for that day.

Kasen slurped down the final drops of milk. It was always his favourite part of breakfast, as he thought milk the only thing that tasted the least bit authentic. While it also came in powdered form, it never curdled like the eggs and vegetables. He snapped the box shut, stood from the table, and rounded his mother to clear it away.

She watched him work from in between her hair. “Kasen,” she said, just as he headed to the front door.

Kasen turned. “Yea, mom?” He noticed the somewhat smaller box in her hands. “Oh, right, I almost forgot my lunch.”

“It’s not just that,” she said, rounding the counter and handing it over. “I actually wanted to say … about your father …”

“You don’t have to make excuses for him.” Kasen popped his lunch under his arm. “It’s fine. I’m fine.” He turned on his heels and resumed his walk to the door. The pitter patter of his mother’s footsteps trailed after him.

“Kasen,” she said again as the door opened, “I don’t want you to hate him.”

“What? Mom, I don’t hate him …” The words simmered in Kasen’s throat. Did he, actually? Did he hate is own father? He again shook the thought from his mind. He couldn’t head off to orientation while thinking such horrible things. What if they tested their Dark level at the door? What if the Dark instantly affected him because of it?

“How are you getting to Craedor Fortress?” asked his mother, holding the door open for him.

“They’re sending me an AOL railway pod.” Kasen glanced down the street. Just then, exactly such a pod pulled up to their house. Coated in gold paint, and with the AOL emblem on its side, it simply screamed his reality: He was officially a Guardian. “Thanks for the lunch, mom. I have to go now, I guess …”

“Alright, honey, see you tonight,” she called after him.

Kasen looked over his shoulder at her. She blew him a kiss, and he couldn’t help but reach out and pretend to catch it. His mother had done nothing wrong, so he should be nice to her. He should be nice to someone, at least.

“I love you!”

“I love you too,” was the last thing Kasen muttered before he sank into the cushioned seats of the railway pod.

The door slid shut and the railway pod set off. It sped much faster than commercial railway pods, and, within seconds, the city centre surrounded him. Kasen clutched the sides of the pod as it switched onto a separate railway that raised above the others. Only emergency pods typically used it, but the AOL had permission to everything.

The railway pod slowed as Craedor Fortress came into view. It looked a lofty, silver building with floor-to-ceiling windows on every floor. All of them were tinted, so no one from the street could see the interior. The only time Kasen had ever been inside, was the day his father took him along for a meeting when he was ten. They had only gone up as far as the fifth floor, and he, Kasen, was put in a waiting room of sorts.

Those were the days in which he and his father had at least one thing in common: A shared interest in famous buildings.

Kasen shifted closer to the door as they approached Craedor Fortress. He frowned to himself, his eyes flicking to the tracks underneath. The railway pod had slowed to a jogging speed, which proved still too fast to stop. He prepared himself for a body-jerking halt, but none came. He sped right past Craedor Fortress.

“What the –” Kasen began, but his voice was ripped from his throat when the pod suddenly turned a corner, and dove right into the man-made pond that surrounded the Fortress. It at once picked up speed, plunging deeper and deeper into the water. He grabbed his seat and clenched his jaw. Who knew the pond was this deep?

Kasen’s lunchbox toppled over, and he reached for it just as the pod switched direction from down to up again. Gravity took its toll and he hurled against the ceiling, bashing the back of his head and upper neck.

“A seatbelt would’ve been useful …” he murmured to himself.

The railway pod at last resurfaced. It came to a stop by the edge of what looked like another, this time indoor, pond. The door opened with a ding. No payment needed. Kasen sat back, his eyes wide and his lunchbox against his chest. He took a moment to catch his breath, to rub his throbbing head, and to take in his surroundings. He was in a cave of some kind. Underwater lights illuminated the pond, adding a slimy, blue-green sheen to the water. The lights reached all the way across the cave’s floor, laying out a path to an entrance.

Kasen struggled out of the pod. The door promptly shut, and it dove back into the water, returning to civilisation.

“Okay …” he muttered, but jerked when the door at the end of the lit-up path opened, and two men marched out.

Two Guardians.

One of them carried a hand-held scanner, and the other a pile of clothes and shoes. They walked right up to Kasen, then halted at the exact same time. The one with the scanner helped himself to Kasen’s wrist.

Beep.

“Kasen Traynor. Citizen Number: 374 001. Selection: Guardian. Position: N/A. Welcome to Craedor Fortress, recruit.” He stuck out his hand and Kasen copied him by doing the same. But, instead of greeting him, the Guardian grabbed his lunchbox. “We must confiscate this. No outside objects other than the necessities.”

“Isn’t food a necessity?” Kasen began to ask, but the other Guardian chucked the bundle of clothes at him.

“Put this on,” he ordered. “You can store your old clothes one of the lockers until you head home tonight.”

“Come with us.”

Kasen gathered the bundle of clothes. He followed the Guardians beyond the door, then down the corridor to a restroom. They waited outside as he changed into the official Guardian uniform – a grey, canvas-like jacket and trousers, complete with a pair of heavy boots – then showed him the lockers at the end of the corridor. They were right beside a series of double-plated, glass doors: the entrance to his new place of employment.

The Guardians told him to enter.

Kasen swiped his wrist across the panel, and the first pair of doors parted. The moment they slid shut, a gust of wind lashed at him from all sides. He proceeded to the second pair of doors, which also opened right away. This time, instead of wind, the entire chamber went red. A beam scanned the length of his body, and the third pair of doors wouldn’t open until the chamber had turned green. It did, and he was free to enter.

Kasen adjusted his hair and clothes. He glanced over his shoulder, but the other two Guardians had already left.

“Do you think we’re as rude as they are?”

Kasen spun around. He was in yet another corridor, also bleak, empty and white, but with three other people. Two guys, and one girl. It was the girl who spoke. She almost resembled his mother, with blonde hair and striking blue eyes. She seemed kind and fair, nothing like a Guardian. Nothing like a harbourer of the Dark.

“Maybe in a few months, we will be,” replied one of guys when Kasen didn’t. He was the tallest of them four, widely-built and with a buzzcut. A collection of freckles decorated his nose, matching his pinkish complexion.

“Are you guys the other recruits?” asked Kasen, approaching them. His uniform rustled as he walked.

The second guy sneered, “Now that you ask, no. We’re just a couple of tourists, standing around here in uniforms for the fun of it.” All his teeth showed when he spoke. They were pearly and straight, akin to his symmetric face and bouncy, brown curls. He was exactly what Kasen thought Samael would have grown up to look like.

“What’s his deal?” asked Kasen as if the guy wasn’t right next to him.

“Just ignore him,” replied the girl with crossed arms. “He’s been this obnoxious ever since he got here a few minutes ago.”

“The name’s Malcolm Chesterton,” the guy introduced himself. He extended his hand, but retracted it the moment Kasen wanted to take it, and burst into laughter. His laugh was difficult on the ear, resembling hiccups mixed with a dog’s bark. He fanned his face to calm himself. “Hey, I’m just joking. What’s your name?”

Kasen took his hand again, reluctantly this time. “Kasen,” he said, deciding on whether he should add his surname.

“Traynor?” asked the girl, and he had to withhold himself from sighing.

Malcolm pulled back again, thick with more laughter. “Wait, you’re Kasen Traynor? As in, the son of General Bentley Traynor?” His face turned crimson, but he spoke on, “Boy, your old man must be super disappointed!”

“What’s that supposed to mean, eh?” asked the girl as if he had personally insulted her.

“Well,” said Malcolm, matter-of-factly, “he’s a Guardian, isn’t he?”

“You’re a Guardian too!”

“No, it’s alright.” Kasen grabbed the girl before she attacked Malcolm. He was wrong about her before. Apparently she did harbour some Dark. He waited until her breathing had steadied, and she straightened out her uniform, before he let go of her. It was almost frightening how quickly she renewed her smile.

“It just gets to me sometimes, you know,” she said, “how little people value the Guardians. Eliza, by the way.”

“What?”

“My name, it’s Eliza. Eliza Winters.” The girl shook Kasen’s hand. Her skin was soft and porcelain-like, too delicate, too smooth. Her innocence and purity at once returned. “Oh, and this is Buff, my twin brother.”

“Just imagine our parents’ disappointment,” joked Buff.

Kasen laughed along with them.

“Oh, so he’s allowed to joke about it?” Malcom crossed his arms over his chest. “You just watch yourself, Traynor. Just because you’re the General’s son or something, doesn’t mean I have to bow down to you.”

“No one is bowing down to anybody,” declared a voice from down the corridor.

The four of them spun around to face a woman in a bright-yellow pantsuit. She wore four-inch heels, and had her platinum hair pinned-up high on her head. She walked with a tablet in her hands, hardly looking up at them.

“I’m Felicity Meyers,” she said, still walking, still working on the tablet, “PA to Emperor Gorgo Hamman, but also the Commander of the Guardians. I’ll be showing you around for the day as orientation.”

Eliza’s hand shot in the air.

“What are you doing?” hissed Malcolm with more than just a hint of judgement.

“I’m asking a question, you fool,” she snapped, then waved her hand higher. “Excuse me! Excuse me, Ms. Meyers!”

Felicity halted several steps short of them. She lowered the tablet, pushed up her thick, square glasses and frowned. When this didn’t verify as an adequate invitation for Eliza to speak, she sighed and said, “Yes?”

“Why are you dressed so – uh – inappropriately?”

Malcolm broke into chuckles.

Felicity did a double-take. She surveyed the four of them, ending on Eliza, and an even deeper frown creased her forehead.

“Eliza Winters, is it?” she asked, and Eliza nodded. “Well, Ms. Winters, while I admire your candid spirit, I would like to request that you keep any such irrelevant questions to yourself. Do I make myself clear?”

Eliza swallowed and shook her head.

“Right, then,” Felicity went on, “I’m afraid the four of you are all we have. The fifth applicant quit yesterday evening. While her reasons were unclear, I do suspect it has something to do with Mary Bates’ accident.”

“Accident my foot …” mumbled Eliza.

“Excuse me, what was that?”

No answer.

“Nothing? I thought so. Alright, follow me.” Felicity turned on her heels and strutted down the corridor.

Kasen settled in at the back of the group. He peered into every room they passed, all of which contained either people behind computer pads, a network of pumps, or collection tanks. A team of Guardians sorted through said tanks, a few of which still contained some Dark, yet none of them wore insolation suits.

They turned left at the end of the corridor, then immediately right. Kasen nearly fell over when he looked up and saw the vast beam of Dark in front of him. A window separated them from the area that housed the beam, but it still surged, droned, and thrashed all the same. His chest tightened and his feet became heavier.

“Magnificent, isn’t it?” cooed Felicity. “The power of the Dark. I bet you all felt it the moment you walked in here.”

“Did I ever,” said Malcolm, manually smoothing his forehead.

“Buff, are you alright?” asked Eliza. She hooked arms with her brother, both of their faces twice as pale as before.

Buff only nodded.

“A man of few words,” noted Malcolm. He scrunched his nose. “I don’t think we’re going to be good friends, mate.”

Felicity spoke on before Eliza could snap anything back at him. “This is the control room, and that, well, is the Dark,” she announced. “I suppose it needs no introduction, but still, something with such incredible power cannot go unrecognised. Speaking of powerful, I’d like to introduce you to the man who runs it all, Emperor Gorgo Hamman.” She motioned behind them, and they all turned to face a man in the doorway.

Emperor Gorgo Hamman hardly looked the part. He was tall and lanky, with too big feet and too big ears. He wore tiny spectacles, and almost always a lab coat. Patches of grey sprinkled his otherwise ebony hair and wrinkles lined his mouth and eyes. His looks, however, was nothing compared to his personality.

“Greetings, new recruits!” Emperor Hamman made down the line, greeting each of them by hand, then strutted to the front of the control room. He upped the platform to the control board and faced the window – the beam – with outstretched arms, basking in its greatness. “Today, all of your journeys can finally begin. I know Guardians don’t have the most prestigious of reputations, but they are nonetheless crucial to the functionality of this city. Why else would my great, great, great grandfather have created the title?”

The Emperor laughed, which compelled all of them to laugh along.

“Now,” he went on, stepping to the side, “can any of you tell me how the Dark came to be, and what exactly it is?”

Malcolm’s eyes swerved to Eliza.

“What?” she asked, shrugging. “Just because I’m clearly the smartest one here, it doesn’t mean I know the answer.”

“Do you?”

Eliza rolled her eyes at him. “Uh, of course! It’s just the very first thing you learn at school.” She rolled back her shoulders and raised her chin. “The Dark as a substance is still a mystery to science, since it’s not a mist, nor a fog, and yet it’s highly reactive to electromagnetism. The Uncorrupted require flashlights to navigate through it, while the Corrupted can see just fine. You know, I’ve always wondered about the sun’s rays –”

“Eliza,” Buff interjected.

“Oh, right. Sorry.” Eliza flushed. “As for where the Dark came from, there are two theories. The first, which I dub a farfetched fairy-tale, is that a pair of archaeologist brothers allegedly found the stone Cain used to murder Abel with in the bible. They were apparently consumed by greed, and one of the brothers killed the other with the stone. They say the deceased brother’s last breath is the Dark that envelops the earth.”

Kasen surveyed the others’ reactions. Malcolm smirked, and a frown dented Buff’s forehead. The Emperor and Felicity just stood there, unphased by Eliza’s tale. They’d clearly heard the theory many a time in their careers, although something in the Emperor’s eyes made Kasen wonder whether he actually believed it.

“And, the second theory?” the Emperor wanted to know.

“Ah, yes. The second theory is simply that some rich billionaire thought he could build a nuclear electromagnetic bomb that would shut off an entire country’s electricity. Something went terribly wrong, and when it accidentally detonated, instead of turning out a country’s lights, it turned out the sun as well.” Eliza sniggered at her own joke. “That would certainly explain the Dark – electromagnetic radiation – and also why people are corrupted by it. Sure, the whole Roamer thing seems impossible, but so does a curse.”

Emperor Hamman smiled, slowly applauding Eliza. “Well done, Ms. Winters. Your knowledge is impressive.”

“Thank you, Your Imperial.”

“Gmf … don’t get a big head,” grumbled Malcolm.

“Shove off! If I recall correctly, you practically begged me to answer.” Eliza turned to Malcolm with balled fists. She parted her lips to snap something else at him, but Felicity cleared her throat and she settled down again.

Emperor Hamman stood by the control board, his hand hovering over several controls, buttons and switches. “Now that we understand the origin of the Dark, do any of you know the importance of this control board?”

One of the switches – bright-red, bulky, and surrounded by warning stickers – stood out above the others.

“That big one, right there,” Eliza answered before anyone else could, “it’s the beam’s kill switch, isn’t it?”

The Emperor renewed his smile. “Very good, it is indeed.” He traced his finger along the switch, back and forth, then all of a sudden grabbed it and pulled down. Everyone gasped. Everyone, except Eliza, of course.

She scoffed. “Ha! That’ll never work. One needs an authorised person’s Citizen Chip to gain access first.”

“Again, very good.” The Emperor restored the switch, rubbed his hands together, then approached them. “Now, while I don’t really have much else to say to you, I do have this: you four were chosen for a reason.”

Silence.

“I’m sure you’ve been informed of this already, but Guardians are individuals who cherish a darkness of their own. This darkness can come from anywhere or any time, but it’s there, and it’s not at all as bad.” The Emperor traced his own heart. “Your darkness gives you the ability to do what no one else can. It gives you resistance to the Dark, and, with proper training, immunity. This, however, depends on your own strength.”

Eliza’s hand shot up again. The Emperor, significantly less judgemental than Felicity, granted her access to speak.

“What exactly do Guardians do, Your Imperial?” she asked. “I mean, what is their true purpose on the AOL?”

The Emperor strutted past them down the line. “Clever question, Ms. Winters. The Guardians are the city’s safety net.” A pause in which he turned to the beam. “When the day comes, we might need to protect the Dark from falling into the wrong hands. And, by that time, I wish to have unlocked all of your immunities.”

“You want us to fight without insolation suits?” Malcolm blurted out.

Eliza jolted him in the ribs with her elbow. “Malcolm! That’s the Emperor, show some respect for once …”

Malcolm rubbed his bruised ribs. He was beginning to annoy Kasen, with all his questions, comments and sneers.

“It’s alright, Eliza,” the Emperor assured her, “I’m quite used to this sort of behaviour. Remember, this is the closest all of you’ve ever come in contact with the Dark. It’s bound to affect your minds for the worse.”

Kasen could certainly testify to this. He constantly found himself wounding his fists so tightly, his nails nearly pierced his flesh. His teeth throbbed from their crunching and grinding, and a knot lodged in his throat.

He was angry at his father.

At his test results.

The Emperor clapped his hands together, grounding him again. “Very well, if you’d like to switch your attention to the room behind you” – everyone turned as he spoke – “you’ll see the Dark room, as we call it.”

“The Dark room?” asked Eliza.

They basked at another window in the wall, this one looking into what might as well have been outer space. They stared into a pitch-black void, although the ceiling-lights lit up the interior. Cushioned mats padded the floors, and different types of workout equipment lined-up by the walls. Several Guardians were in the middle of training, some even fighting each other – a clear demonstration of what was expected of them.

“The room is, as you can see, concentrated with Dark,” the Emperor explained. He removed his spectacles to clean them with the tip of his lab coat. “Said concentration can be adjusted from the outside, of course, and, as recruits, you’ll be starting at level 1. As you progress, the concentration will be increased.”

“At what level are these guys?” asked Eliza, visibly withholding herself from pressing her nose to the glass.

“Level 10, the highest for now. I’m working on gaining permission to install the next, but this is already highly impressive.”

Kasen nodded to himself. Level 10. That really was impressive, especially if the Emperor had to gain permission to install the next. He, as Kasen, would likely fail at level 1. Heck, he’d fail just staying here in the control room.

“When the day requires it, the Guardians must be ready,” said the Emperor with pride. “The Dark must never prevail.”

“It won’t, Your Imperial,” promised Eliza with her hand on her chest.

Malcolm pushed in front of them and copied her. “Yea, not on my watch. I won’t allow another slip-up in the system.”

“What slip-up?” asked Buff.

“Samael of the Dark, of course,” said Malcolm as though they should’ve known. “You agree with me, Kasen, don’t you?”

Kasen stepped forward to face Malcolm. “Watch what you say, that’s my brother you’re talking about,” he sneered.

The Emperor tried to interject, “Boys –”

“Your brother?” snarled Malcolm, again with swollen cheeks. “From what I heard, that dude’s more monster than he is human. He can’t be your brother! I mean, he cut off some fellow’s tongue for Light’s sake.”

“That’s a lie!” Kasen clenched his fists again, but this time on purpose. “Samael never cut off anyone’s tongue …”

“Where’s your proof, eh?

“He only did what he did because he didn’t know any better. He was born in the Dark, which made him confused.”

Malcolm locked eyes with Kasen. Their usual puppy-dog appearance had vanished, and they were now filled with fire. Fire, or steaming ice. He said, “If I was your dad, I’d have killed that monster the moment I found him.”

Kasen could no longer restrain himself. His mind buzzed, throbbed, raced with thoughts. With thoughts and memories and curses. Malcolm didn’t know anything about Samael, and even less about his father. He had no right to such an opinion. No right to utter such horrible declarations without knowing the truth.

“Samael was a slip-up,” Malcolm taunted.

This was it.

“Why you –” Kasen clenched his fists so tightly, the tendons of his fingers felt as though they might snap. He raised his right arm, almost without wanting to or realising it, and propelled it straight through the air …

Right at Malcolm’s face.