A Guardian's Ascension (Chapter 13)

For nine days past, Sophia had risen from her fitful not-exactly-dreamless slumber at the Citadel, eaten just enough to sustain herself despite an almost total lack of appetite, then garbed herself in the gilded black-and-white regalia of a Guardian – for that was what she was, the young giantess silently reminded herself in the mirror each morning – and stepped through a portal to once more tower above her arboreal toy-esque homeland for performative training and unflinching stewardship, as were her duties. Despite still experiencing no regret over her choice to ascend, recalling the bloody cost last time an unchallenged monster horde swept over her village just as vividly as she kept replaying Torv’s words to herself while lying awake at night, she desperately wished to feel more correct in her colossal self as soon as possible. She thought, falsely, that she’d already attained this sensation while fending off the first assault of otherworldly beasts and rescuing her people from further harm. Only now, scarcely over a week into this permanent commitment, did Sophia realize, thanks to the empathetic guidance of her humongous peers and her no-longer soul partner’s heartbreaking address, that in many ways she was still very much a mortal girl of rather-average height, strength, and longevity, merely operating the unbreakable body of an armored titan. What’s more, she understood it was imperative that she surmount this particular disassociation, sooner rather than later.

If only fulfilling her apparent destiny was as straightforward as understanding it.

On this tenth day of watchful service, Sophia arrived at the hilly outskirts of her sworn dominion wearing the same lighter less-formal uniform she’d donned during her last conversation with Torv, whom she hadn’t seen now since the conclusion of that hurtful yet seemingly necessary exchange. For the last few days, whether out of self-consciousness or just worry that starry-eyed villagers might approach her with lavish offerings – because many folks had already visited the giantess’s forest perimeter during the nights and laid out bite-sized plates of food or hand-stitched blankets depicting the imagery of her first battle as a Guardian – Sophia had purposefully neglected to train as long or hard in sight of them. Instead she largely paced along the horizon in search of potential interdimensional funny business, and naturally offered gracious thanks to all the people who’d left her gifts. Today, however, having spent much of the night reflecting for the umpteenth occasion on Sigrid and Nemora’s advice, she decided there was no more place for such bashful self-protectiveness on her part, even if she involuntarily provoked more tithes from the people. This was her job now. This was “her,” whether she’d fully accepted it yet or not.

So once more, Sophia took up her sword and shield, and with finesse and fury that appeared to the faraway ground-level observers like it could’ve toppled half an incursion’s worth of devils in a single blade thrust, she convincingly play-acted refinement of her combat prowess, when in reality her every move was dedicated solely to the mental and emotional security, rather than physical, of her miniscule spectating populace. And while she’d already made a spectacle of herself the last time she showed off these skills, the novice Guardian redoubled her efforts today, as she could just imagine her mentors’ voices (Sigrid’s especially) encouraging her to display her battle-readiness more boldly than she felt necessary, and also occasionally offering critiques wherever her technique left openings for would-be foes to strike.

Not that she could say she’d become a devout believer in this specific Guardian philosophy: essentially theatrical air-fighting for the sake of villager morale. But after nine days of sullenness and somewhat-perfunctory service while in wait for the next threat, Sophia was ready to show some faith in her betters and also break out of this heartsick gloaming. Thus she chopped, bashed, hypothetically-parried, and leapt about in agile fashion that created a flowy exhibition of her emblazoned garments. Her makeshift warrior-goddess routine was at once balletic and subliminally seismic, and through every heaving stroke that might’ve cut a literal tempest in two, Sophia channeled all her aching vestiges of sorrow into Guardian-worthy vitality. She could not be both lovelorn and what these people needed her to be at the same time, she thought to herself. This feeling would have to pass, and if at all possible, she would force it to do so.

In the distant streets of her village, Sophia passively took notice of more and more civilians emerging from their homes and abandoning their outdoor trades, to gather and all face in her direction. Even with such a gulf of space separating her from the multiplying attentions of the people, and her gaze fixated primarily upon whatever part of the sky her blade was predetermined to align with next, the giantess could sense their collective ingratiating deference toward her as palpably as though smelling that familiar earthy bittersweetness in the air just before a rainstorm. People had convened during the previous nine days in smaller clusters to observe their beautiful five-hundred-twenty-seven-foot-tall monitor simply keeping stone-still watch over their livelihoods, or occasionally engaging in less-dramatic displays of her ground-quaking dexterity. But this now was the greatest diminutive audience Sophia had accrued since the ecstatic crowd that practically hurled themselves upon her muddied boat-scaled boots following the skirmish. Probably a fitting outcome, because she had yet to put on any kind of display at the intensity she was publicly evincing now.

Despite such attention, though, Sophia didn’t cease this glorified pageantry of her faux-training for several hours, with only fleeting rests separating routines. She continued to carve through even more imaginary enemies today than she’d actually vanquished during that first defense. This in turn meant she was caking her hardy treads in freshly-stampeded muck and working up a damp gleam of sweat painted across her exposed flesh, while the cloudless sun beat down and presumably framed her gigantic gracefully-thrashing silhouette against the glowing skyscape in a way that only further inspired the villagers beyond to view her as something unthinkably above them. This notion, which Sophia would’ve once found so galling that it would’ve caused her to escape back through the Citadel portal so no one else could admire her so highly, still remained in the back of her mind. But that conviction in her wise Guardian friends held even firmer, and so she invisibly battled onward nonetheless, until the sun passed its noon peak, and instinct told her she had gone on with this behavior drastically longer than she should. Which probably meant her mentors would judge it as just right.

Finished, Sophia stowed her weaponry against the same cliff she’d used as a bench following her first defense. She was almost surprised to realize she was far more winded and stickied with perspiration right now than after fighting the actual orcs and various-order dracuses, but then again this training session had taken much more of the day than that near-effortless repelling of the enemy forces. And internally, she supposed there had to be a certain amount of energy purged when her bombastic mock-battle movements were powered by a need to rid herself of the doubts and romantic languishing that had plagued her so heavily these previous nine days. Indeed, while Sophia was very far from liberated of all these hang-ups, she was mildly gratified to realize that she did feel a bit better now, if only to know how indubitably assured her people must feel now of their protection; plus, exercising her well-learned new skills came with its own natural little euphoria burst. Though, guiltily, she also wondered how long this relief would last, because at the conclusion of her training, as she took respite now on the makeshift chair of that cliff with her humongous loamy-splattered boots planted far beneath, the giantess could see the previously stationary village population had abandoned their awe-struck spots in the roads, and again were slowly converging as a crowd toward their mighty leviathan champion in the forest.