The Guardian

The interior of the church enveloped Caelia in an eerie silence, broken only by the faint echo of squeaking door hinges. The large space seemed to swallow her presence, leaving her feeling small and insignificant within its vastness.

Caelia cringed inwardly, realizing that her entrance likely alerted anyone who might be present in the church. She stood still, listening closely for any signs of movement or sound. The only response she received was the soft whisper of the wind, seeping through the open entrance behind her and rustling the worn tapestries lining the walls.

She remained in the stillness for a brief moment, her senses trying to pick up every subtle shift and breath. But there was nothing else to be heard. The church stayed quiet.

As Caelia moved further into the church, her tense shoulders gradually relaxed, and she withdrew her hand back within the safety of her cloak. She continued down the worn path that led towards the once dignified altar, her steps more consistent and relaxed, yet her senses remained sharp and alert.

On either side of her, broken-down wooden benches lay scattered, their surfaces marred with deep splinters and fragments scattered across the dusty floor. The air was heavy with a musty scent, and the faint sound of scurrying rodents echoed through the desolate space. Dim light filtered through stained glass windows, casting bleak fragmented hues of color upon the crumbling walls.

Years of neglect showed in the peeling paint and cobwebs that adorned the corners. The church stood as a relic of a forgotten time, reduced to crumbling decay and forgotten prayers.

As Caelia reached the altar, she cast a solemn gaze upon the worn and weathered structure. The remnants of shattered stained glass windows lay dispersed at its base, casting fragmented patterns of colored light upon the decaying floor. The profound silence within the church was as if the very walls held forgotten voices and abandoned hope.

She took a moment to absorb the melancholic atmosphere, the stillness broken only by the soft sound of her own breathing. The church was a testament to the passage of time and the decline of faith, its brokenness mirroring the state of the town that surrounded it.

However, amidst the eerie silence, there were unmistakable signs of recent disturbance. Larger footprints, distinct from her own, mirrored the path she had just walked, leaving imprints in the ash that had yet to be erased by time.

She felt a slight tingle on the inside of her forearm, her mark pulsating with anticipation.

Her eyes scanned the area beyond the altar, falling upon the remnants of a fire, its embers still smoldering and wisps of smoke curling upward. Across the room, a makeshift bed made from folded fabric caught her attention, its warmth suggesting recent occupation.

The burning sensation on her forearm intensified.

There were clear indications that someone had either just departed or remained hidden in the shadows.

She grabbed her dagger in a firm grip, the familiar feel of the leather handle grounding her, she steeled herself.

A smile curved upon her lips, a glimmer of determination in her eyes. With a hushed breath, she uttered a single word, "Phase."

In an instant, a massive figure charged at her from behind, a sword aimed for her neck. But as the blade made contact, there was no bloodshed, no resistance.

It passed through her as if she were a ghost, ethereal and intangible.

The colossal being stumbled forward, its momentum unchecked, leaving a trail of swirling dust and ash in its wake.

The room trembled with the impact, the echo of its presence reverberating through the desolate space.

Caelia remained motionless, her lips adorned with a serene smile as her gaze fell upon the man hunched slightly before her.

He towered over her, his imposing frame radiating authority. Broad shoulders and a weathered visage hinted at years of resilience and experience. His face bore a thick beard, adding an air of dignity and wisdom to his rugged features. Lines etched into his forehead spoke of burdens carried, marking him as a man weathered by life's storms. He appeared to be in his late forties, his eyes carrying a depth of wisdom that belied his physical presence.

He stood there, an embodiment of a bear in human form. His deep, resonant voice echoed through the air, "Kaldor sent you, did he not?"

Caelia's smile faded, sensing the weight of history and unresolved grievances in his words. The intensity in his eyes and his determined tone revealed an untold story.

The man's grip tightened on his sword as he pointed it towards Caelia. "You tell him, I am not going back."

Confusion flickered across Caelia's face, her brows knitting together and lips forming a thin line as she tried to comprehend his words. "Who the fuck is Kaldor?" she asked.

A moment of hesitation flashed in the man's eyes, as if a seed of doubt had been planted, but it vanished quickly. His grip on the sword tightened, his resolve solidifying. "I am not falling for that again."

A mark on his chest, visible through the thin fabric of his shirt, glowed in a soft, ethereal blue hue, casting an eerie light on his skin.

Caelia's heart quickened with a mix of anticipation and excitement. Her eyes widened as she beheld the mark, confirming her suspicions. This man was undeniably the Guardian she had been searching for. Her quest had led her to the right person, which filled her with determination. How fortunate she was to have found him so quickly, and intact.

As the realization dawned on her, energy surged through Caelia's body. The mark on her own forearm began to glow, a faint but distinct orange radiance illuminating the intricate pattern etched into her skin. Words seemed futile at that moment. But there would come a time for them. For now, she had to demonstrate her benign intentions and prove her superiority.

Without uttering a word, Caelia launched herself into action, her movements fluid and precise. She dashed toward the man with a speed as fast as lightning, phasing through the shattered pews and rubble scattered across the church. In the blink of an eye, she materialised in front of him, her figure fully solidified.

Caught off guard by her sudden onslaught, the man instinctively swung his sword in a defensive attempt. However, Caelia was already one step ahead, having anticipated his move.

She evaded his strike with a graceful sidestep, her body moving with a grace that seemed almost supernatural, as if defying the laws of physics.

Undaunted, the man pressed on, his determination rock-solid. He adjusted his stance, striving to anticipate Caelia's next move, but she danced around him with a precision that seemed effortless. Her Phasing ability granted her extraordinary agility, reflexes, and an absolute advantage in both defence and offence, enabling her to dodge his attacks with ease.

Caelia's movements transformed into a hypnotising blur as she wove through the chaos, capitalising on the man's weaknesses. She moved around him like a spectral apparition, her body twisting and turning with otherworldly grace.

The man's frustration escalated, his strikes becoming increasingly wild and erratic, failing to find their target.

With each passing second and each avoided strike, Caelia's confidence grew.

The man's sword sliced through empty air once more, his face etched with frustration. He knew he needed to counter Caelia's Phasing.

Taking a deep breath, he concentrated his energy. The mark on his chest shone even brighter.

In a heartbeat, a translucent barrier materialised around him, ethereal and luminescent. The barrier radiated a bright glow, its hues shifting between shades of blue and silver. It pulsed with a mesmerising luminescence, shimmering and undulating like a sentient being.

In the dim light of the church, the barrier's glow cast spectral shadows across the walls and floor, imbuing the surroundings with a soft, mystical light. It created an otherworldly atmosphere, as if the laws of reality were temporarily suspended within this protective sanctuary.

Caelia's eyes widened in surprise as she witnessed the emergence of the defensive barrier.

She acknowledged the strength of his shield, a formidable defence capable of deflecting even the most potent attacks. Unfazed, she adjusted her strategy, weaving around the barrier with measured precision, seeking an opening in its defences.

Their conflict intensified, the man's shield standing as a formidable barrier against Caelia's agile movements. She phased in and out, delivering swift strikes and pushing the limits of his barrier. Yet he stood firm, his focus unwavering, as he maintained the shield's resilience and durability.

Caelia's smile morphed into a determined frown as she realised that the barrier wasn't something she could phase through easily. She needed to find a way to exploit the man's weaknesses. With an energy surge, she intensified her phasing frequency, moving faster than the naked eye could track. Her presence electrified the air as she became a blur of motion.

In a daring move, Caelia drew her dagger and thrust it directly into the shield, the sharp blade penetrating its surface. The barrier flickered momentarily. It appeared to be weaker in the man's blind spots.

Seizing the opportunity, she swiftly phased through and delivered a precise strike to the man's exposed flank.

The blow landed with a resounding impact. The man's shield dissipated, disrupted by Caelia's attack. Although it was unintentional, it provided Caelia with the advantage she needed.

Closing the gap between them with smooth grace,

Caelia's movements transformed into a captivating dance of agility and precision. She approached him, her body a blur of motion. With a swift, powerful kick, her leg connected with his sword-wielding hand.

The impact was immediate and decisive. The force of Caelia's kick knocked his grip loose, sending his sword flying from his hand. The steel weapon clattered against the cold, hard ground of the abandoned church, its sound echoing through the empty space.

The man, momentarily shocked by the sudden turn of events, stared in disbelief as his sword lay at his feet, now beyond his reach. His eyes met Caelia's, a mix of surprise and resignation mirrored in his gaze.

As the echoes of the clattering sword faded, a tense silence filled the air. Caelia stood before him, her posture confident and prepared. The power of her swift kick had displayed her agility and combat prowess, asserting her dominance in this confrontation.

The man sighed, his voice steady but devoid of its former anger. The flame of defiance had been extinguished, replaced by a weary acceptance of the situation. "It seems Kaldor indeed found a sharp blade," he muttered, a hint of bitterness lacing his words.

The ethereal glow emanating from his mark faded, as if echoing his diminished spirit. The once vibrant blue hue dulled, reflecting the dying hope within him. His eyes, once alight with fiery determination, now hung low, weariness etched upon his face. Each breath he drew was laboured, as if the fight had drained him of both physical and emotional energy.

With a heavy sigh, the defeated man turned his gaze to Caelia, the young woman who had outmatched him. A flicker of admiration shone through his exhaustion, acknowledging the skill and talent she had exhibited in their brief but intense encounter. It seemed the younger generation possessed an innate capability far beyond his expectations.

Despite the heavy weight of fatigue pressing upon him, the man mustered a faint smile, a glint of respect gleaming in his eyes. "Young folks these days... truly impressive," he admitted, his words laced with admiration.

Caelia inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. "Ready to talk now?"

She retreated a few steps and sat down, much to the man's surprise.

She crossed her legs on the floor, resting her chin against her right hand that once again emerged from the darkness of her cloak. Her mark was clearly visible and still slightly glowing.