A Guardian's Ascension (Chapter 9)

Holding her blade straight-up to the sky, Sophia gradually lowered its platinum bridge-length sharpness toward the precise spot above the ground on the village outskirts where reality had briefly ruptured to allow so many ravenous creatures to come pouring through just three days ago. Of course there was nothing there now but clear blue and occasional flocks of geese passing through, but the giantess’s steely gaze and newly-sharpened weapon were fixated upon that unassuming void nonetheless. She tightened her fingers around the hilt, then took an audibly windy horizontal swing with her sword directly through that invisible spot, a blow which could’ve consecutively cleaved the necks off five perfectly-lined-up dracus majoris, if there were any to prune today.

Having forsaken her full battle armor for this first official patrol, despite Sigrid encouraging her to arrive here loaded for bear, Sophia instead chose to wear a compromise of still-stately black-and-white cloth non-combat Guardian garb rather than the heavier-duty regalia intended to tank fireballs. While this ensemble was still far more visually striking than anything she’d ever worn pre-growth spurt, in her mind, it at least made her appear somewhat closer to the girl everyone in town had always known. Granted, the obscene gulf in size between Sophia and the second-tallest citizen probably ensured that mental roadblock would always exist, but it still made her feel marginally more comfortable to think of the people looking toward their hilly horizon and seeing not just their gargantuan praise-worthy savior (if they really did insist on keeping that perspective), but also a trusted, knowable, and loving soul who truly wasn’t so different, deep down, from any one of them.

While still in the midst of her formal training at the Citadel months before, Sophia was initially perplexed by the notion of these regular patrols she would eventually be expected to carry out near the village. Not that she wasn’t happy to do it, since the time would be well-worth it if even one citizen felt safer by her presence, but it was also apparent to her even before her first defense that effectively shadow-sparring against thin air would, at best, help keep her physique fighting-ready. But it certainly wouldn’t dramatically improve her ability to fend off now-tiny beasties. Surely, Sophia had wondered aloud at the time mid-duel against Sigrid, it might be more useful to just stand watch over the town, making herself a less-aggressive and therefore more approachable entity?

“The training you take on now is for yourself,” Nemora had sweetly commented from the courtyard sidelines, while Sigrid dexterously simulated the viper-like strikes of a sky serpent by swooping her hand around a still-green Sophia’s shield and jabbing her in the shoulders. “After your first incursion defense, the training will be for your people instead.”

Now, standing alone in the tranquil mid-morning openness of the outlying woodland terrain outside her hometown, surrounded by a smattering of trees which for her didn’t stand much taller than overgrown weeds, Sophia sighed, finally understanding Nemora’s reasoning. The mighty unconquerable dragon-slaying image of her gigantic self she had hoped to water down for her people was in fact precisely what the Guardians expected of her, and what they even seemed to think was in the village’s best interest.

Reluctantly, then, Sophia carried on with “her” training. Calling upon the impeccable swordwomanship she’d had drilled into her by Sigrid, she entered a dazzling and dangerous flurry of masterful air-strikes with her towering blade, and then combined with the finesse and footwork Nemora had instilled, she galloped and bounded light-footedly about the grassy low-lying dunes as though chopping through an ever-advancing swarm of creatures coming at her from all sides. Her sword became a windmill, except generating breeze rather than collecting it, as the giantess made a questionably-deserved spectacle of herself with the flowing thrust of her arms and the flight of her boots, brutal and graceful at once in a manner that should’ve allowed anyone below to sleep better at night after even glimpsing their vigorous overseer in action. While she made a point of not gawking over in the village’s direction, instead keeping her mind zeroed in on the training and on her peripherals, just in case any surprise lesser incursions erupted, Sophia still had the distinct sense that there was a steadily-increasing audience for her current activity. The people emerged from their homes and knocked on the neighbors’ doors, inviting everyone to witness their colossal majestic champion for themselves and bask in her supremacy.

Perhaps it was ultimately for the best that she spent this time appearing busy to the townsfolk after all, Sophia decided after a good while of continuous blade-spiraling virtuosity, which despite its impressiveness to outside observers, had no real effect on her skill level and succeeded only in inflicting a light sheen of sun-kissed sweat upon her skin. Her months away at the Citadel had made her pine for the idea of sitting sentinel beside the village with a smile, coaxing friends and acquaintances alike closer to converse with her. Yet the newbie Guardian had a sinking feeling now that, if she did make herself openly available for the people to approach like that, they would indeed come in droves, seeking not to simply share in mirth and unbiased friendship, but to humbly mop the mud from her boots and, worse, try again to learn her favorite food so they could cook up a whole season’s reserves of it for that previously-threatened feast.

“Soph?”

The voice took her by surprise, comparatively a whisper in the wind, but Sophia’s nimble senses caught it nonetheless. Her boots sunk heavily back into earth and she came to stillness again, stroking her knuckles across the perspiration glazing her neck. Then she searched in the direction the address had come from, spotted the tiny owner of the voice, and immediately felt the same bodily jolt of palm-clamming air-catching adrenaline as she’d experienced during that split-second prior to barehandedly humiliating a dracus majoris. Only now of course that final gasp of uncertain fear from the dragon was replaced by hopeful elation when Sophia recognized Torv standing alone at the edge of the treeline and looking up at her. Even from this distance, she noticed immediately that her love was wearing his “nice” tunic, the one he’d had on the first time they informally courted. Though the giantess tried to keep in control of her facial expression and posture, she knew a hint of her gleeful relief at his presence must’ve shown through her five-hundred-foot-plus frame nonetheless.