The Guardians: Book One of the Restoration Series (41 page)

'Is this the abyss? Where am I?' Flare had envisioned many things about being dead, but never had he imagined it like this.

After an indeterminable amount of time, he noticed a dark spot floating in front of him. It slowly grew larger, and he began to see shapes.

As the spot grew bigger, he saw a person lying on a bed in a rather nice room.

With a start, he recognized the person. 'Is that me?' He thought incredulously. Only then did he recognize the room as his own in fort Mul-dune.

The spot was still growing, and it was starting to resemble a tunnel more than a spot. Flare felt a tug pulling him toward the tunnel.
Another tug, and another, as he slid toward the tunnel.
Then with a sudden jerk, he flew into the tunnel, and he knew no more.

Flare woke up and opened his eyes. His first thought was that the light was too bright, it hurt his eyes. Immediately after that, his second thought was that he wasn’t sure if it was the light that hurt his eyes, because everything else hurt as well.

He was lying in bed. It was the bedroom of Colonel Holt, the same room that Flare had claimed as his own. Although he knew where he was, he was confused and disoriented. How had he gotten here?

Kara was sitting in the chair beside the bed. She looked exhausted and she had a nasty bruise on her left shoulder just below her neck. She smiled at him, “Flare. I am so happy to see you awake. How are you feeling?”

“Terrible.” Flare said, trying to push himself up, “What happened at the gates?”

Kara jumped up, “Don’t move!” She exclaimed. Then she continued in a calmer voice, “Flare, you don’t need to be moving. Just lie still.”

Flare was some what taken back by the urgency in her voice. He slowly relaxed back in the bed. “What's the matter?”

She sat down on the bed next to him. “Flare, Do you remember what happened? Do you remember the fight on top of the temple?”

Kara’s words caused his mental fog to clear a little bit. With a rush the events of the fight came back to him. “What happened? I was stabbed in the gut… I thought that I was dead for sure. Do I have you to thank for being alive?”

She shook her head. “I have seen people wounded like that before, but I have never seen anybody survive it. I don’t think that the high priest himself could have done anything for you,” she paused, “except maybe pray for your soul.” A shadow crossed her face. “Flare, you should be dead, and yet the wound is already closing up. The internal damage seems to be already healed or very close to it. I have never seen anything like it, neither has the arch-bishop.”

“Arch-bishop?
What arch-bishop?” Flare asked, confused.

“The battle at the gates was almost over. Most of us, the defenders I mean, were scattered or dead. The mercenaries from the eastern wall had joined in the fight. They had taken the eastern gate and trapped us between the two groups of attackers. I was fighting in the courtyard near the western gate, when I heard the chants of ‘Telur’ coming from the east.” Her eyes got a distant look as she spoke, “You should have seen it Flare. An army poured through the eastern gate, an army of Telurian soldiers. Heather reached General Andatell, and returned with his army.”

Flare got goose skin as she relayed her tale and his eyes got misty thinking of the soldiers who didn't get to see the hoped for army.

Kara paused for a moment, “Flare, I know that the goblins would have slaughtered us if they had won, but I will have nightmares from the way our army slaughtered them. The loss of life was horrible.” A tortured look crossed her face.

“Kara, how many defenders did we lose? Which of the other guardians survived?” Flare asked quietly, needing the answer but terrified of what he might hear.

“The other guardians will be okay. Aaron’s leg was broken by a giant’s hammer, but it will heal in time. Trestus was stabbed high on the shoulder, but that also will heal. The rest of us have minor injuries.” She stopped talking and then, as if just remembering something, she added, “Oh, Enstorion woke up and he should be fine.”

“And what about the rest of the defenders?”
Flare asked, relieved to hear about Enstorion and that none of the other guardians had died.

Kara got up and slowly walked toward the end of the bed. “Flare, I am not entirely sure of the numbers, but I think that some sixty of the soldiers survived relatively unhurt. Another twenty or thirty of the soldiers survived the battle, but I think their survival is temporary. They were maimed or severely hurt, and I think that their injuries will be too much. If they do survive, I don’t know what kind of life they would lead.”

A soul ripping remorse settled on Flare. “I failed them. My god, I have failed them.” His eyes teared up, memories of Murleen flowing over him.

Kara turned on him with such ferocity that it startled him. “You stop that right now. You led these men better than could have possibly been expected of you. You helped these men to hold this fort under impossible odds for a lot longer than we should have. Stop with the poor me attitude.” Her voice softened and she sat down on the bed next to him, placing her hand on his shoulder, “Think of the sixty or so soldiers that did survive, and think of all the lives that would have been lost if the goblins had gotten through the fort. You have saved countless lives, and you have nothing to feel sorry about.” She watched him for a few moments. “Flare, a wonderful blessing has been bestowed on us. The lives that were lost were the sacrifice that the gods required for this blessing. Don’t ruin the memory of those soldiers by pitying them, rejoice in their memory.”

‘The lives that were lost were the sacrifice that the gods required for this blessing!’ Those words troubled him; they reminded him of the words he heard about the gods demanding a sacrifice. He didn’t have any time to think about it though, because at that moment the door opened.

The door opened, and in walked General Andatell. He looked every bit the battle hardened general. His hair was shoulder length, and rather unkempt. He had a smile on his face, and the smile started to put Flare at ease. He had a leather-hard face, with a scar that ran from his left eye to his chin.

“Hello, Sergeant. How are you feeling?” The general asked.

How did he feel? He should have been dead, but he was healing quickly. He felt queasy to his stomach, at the thought of admitting refusing to follow a direct order. He swallowed and said, “Better, sir. I should be ready to return to duty soon.” He surprised himself with how good he actually sounded.

The general chuckled, “Well, let’s not rush it.”

“Yes sir. Uh, general, can I speak with you in private for a moment?”

General Andatell seemed a little surprised, but nevertheless he nodded toward the door.

Kara was also taken aback, but she glanced from Flare to General Andatell, and then left.

“All right Sergeant, what’s this about?” The general asked, just as soon as the door closed.

Flare took a deep breath. ‘I don’t have to do this, maybe nobody will ever know.’ But he dismissed that thought. “Sir, it is with deep regret that I must inform you that I refused a direct order from Colonel Holt.” A look of surprise crossed the general’s face, but Flare continued. “We arrived several days early, and when the goblins appeared, the colonel ordered me to turn my troops over to him. He was marching out to fight them, but I refused. I still had two days before the day I was ordered to turn the troops over to Colonel Holt. I used that to justify my refusal.”

The general watched Flare for several moments, as if studying him. The look on the general's face had changed from surprise to something else. What was it? It almost looked like amusement, but that couldn't be it, not when a soldier admitted to disobeying a superior officer. The general took his time in responding, and the waiting was unimaginable.

Finally, the general spoke, “Sergeant, while I understand that you may feel guilty about refusing a command, I think that you must not understand what you have done here. You have saved an untold number of lives by refusing that foolish command.” He paused, sitting down in the chair next to the bed.

A faint glimmer of hope rose in Flare at the general’s words. He tried to not get his hopes up too far.

The general smiled and continued, “I would not recommend that you make a habit of refusing to follow an order, but it is the responsibility of each soldier to judge an order, and not just follow blindly. Most of the time, a soldier does not know everything that the officer knows. In this case, you refused to follow a stupid order and saved the lives of many innocents.” Andatell placed his hand on Flare’s shoulder, “Besides, you're a hero now. I don’t think that I could do anything to you, even if I wanted to.”

Flare was stunned. He had expected several possible different responses to his admission of rebellion, but praise had not been a thought that had crossed his mind.

The general stood to his feet, and moved to the door. He stopped and looked back at Flare, his face turning grim. Or was that mirth in his eyes? “Now that I think about it, I guess there is something that I can do to punish you.” The general paused as if considering the punishment. “Yes, I think that it will be a fitting punishment for you.”

Flare was confused by the general's abrupt about face. The punishment couldn't be too bad considering his earlier statements, but what did he have in mind?

A broad smile broke across the face of General Andatell, “A general is granted certain liberties and one of those it the ability to promote a soldier on the field of battle, and that is exactly what I have decided to do.” General Andatell reached for the doorknob, “I must be going now. I have to check on the status of the repair to the wall. You get your rest,” The general paused and smiled at him, as he stressed his last word, “Lieutenant.”

‘Lieutenant?’
Flare thought to himself as the general left the room. I disobeyed an order, and I get a promotion. Waves of relief rolled over him as he realized that he would not be punished, but instead would be rewarded. ‘I guess I need to disobey orders a little more often.’ Flare chuckled to himself.

In spite of the excitement of the general’s visit, Flare’s mending body required healing. He soon found himself slipping back into sleep, and released himself willingly.

Flare spent several weeks recovering his strength. His fellow guardians visited him often, and brought him news of the rebuilding of the fort’s defenses.

All the guardians were troubled by the events that had befallen them at the fort, but only Trestus seemed truly haunted. He seemed quieter than usual, and Flare’s concern about Trestus grew each time he saw him.

Enstorion visited only once.
A brief visit where the elven magician sat coolly regarding Flare.
His gaze starting to make Flare uncomfortable.
“So Enstorion, how are you feeling?”

“Better,” he adjusted the way that he was sitting, crossing his long legs and leaning back in the chair. “I'm tired a lot, but that will pass with time.” He nodded toward Flare, “Your stomach's almost healed up. How did you manage that?”

Flare shook his head, his brow wrinkling at the same time. “I don't know.” He had told the same to the other guardians when asked this question. Some of them, led by Kara, pronounced it a miracle and said he should be thankful. He was thankful, but he desperately wanted a clearer explanation.

Enstorion didn't stay long, but at one point, he had nodded at Flare. “Some pretty amazing things happened over the past couple of weeks, and I don't just mean your healing. Any ideas on how so many fortuitous things happened?”

Shaking his head no, Flare studied the elf, and Enstorion left shortly thereafter. But there had been a gleam in his eyes when he had asked that gave Flare pause. Could he know or suspect something? Of all of them, Enstorion alone might keep his secret, but then again, Enstorion might also be the first to sell him out.

After ten days, Flare was finally allowed to leave the room, albeit over the very loud objections of Kara. There was some pain and soreness from his injuries, but he refused to show any sign of soreness as Kara insisted on going with him. If she even suspected that he was still hurting, she would have ended any and all of his excursions.

He limped through the streets of the fort toward the makeshift gate. It was a bright sunny day, and the light hurt his eyes. The signs of the battle were still very evident. The streets and even some of the buildings were tore up, even though a hasty attempt had been made to patch the battle scars.

Other soldiers and merchants walked the streets. Some nodded at Flare, but most ignored him or watched him with guarded looks.

"Kara, why do they look at me that way?" He asked.

"Well, a lot of them are in shock from what happened here. I mean the trades people expected to die. And then miraculously they are saved by the arrival of the army. Then they look at you, and you should be dead, but here you are.
Alive and well."
She shrugged her shoulders, "They just think that you should be dead."

He didn't respond, but kept slowly walking toward the western gate. When he reached the gate, he almost didn't recognize it. Hundreds of soldiers swarmed over the remains of the gate and wall. An amazing amount of work had already been done to clear away the rubble, and now the soldiers were shoring up the walls. The area in front of the gate, where the final battle had taken place, had been completely cleared of any sign of battle. 'That doesn't make any sense,' Flare thought. 'It looks like they are closing off the entrance.'