A Guardian's Ascension (Chapter 8)

“I’m not certain, Sophia, that I’ve told you before of my own first incursion defense,” Nemora said, following a lengthy strife-building silence at the table which was punctuated only by Sigrid’s goblet-sipping. “Or rather the part of it that still matters. You’ll… perhaps remember, that my people in fact hail from a beautiful lowland above a mine rich in precious metals and gems. The first time I fended off a major swarm, they emerged from below carrying armloads of the finest crafted wares, jewelry and crowns and diamond-embellished chainmail, and laid them at my feet. They meant this not exactly as “payment,” but rather a gesture of their gratitude, just as you found today. Because, although it may require some adjustment to understand, they do and will continue to love you for your service. And just as you deserve to express your affection for your people by standing up for them against creatures from beyond, they too deserve the chance to signify their own for you. Still, I knew all too well the immense value of what my people had given me. It was, as you may guess, more than I could rightly accept. The kind of bounty which might sustain the whole town for months of trade, worth hundreds of hours of hard-working souls digging and toiling through the deepest earth in search of treasures. But, they simply would not hear of me refusing their thanks.”

“What did you do, then?” Sophia asked, a little too urgently. “Please.”

“I asked instead that they forge something new for me,” Nemora replied. “Rather than hoarding a priceless heap of jewels which I had no practical use for, but which meant so much to the wellbeing of my people, I… took it upon myself to task them with the creation of this.”

Nemora indicatively curled her finger into the collar of her garment and tugged it aside, revealing a long tightly-woven chain which formed a necklace. Dangling at the end of the wide metal loop was a silvery-carved pendant the size of a small carriage and festooned with a full rainbow of twinkling gems, formed into a crest which Sophia knew to symbolize Nemora’s village ancestry.

“Of course, I had asked for no jewels to be incorporated. Only this specific metal, which is both beautiful and common to our mines, so that I might not render my own people penniless after just one defense. Neither did I ask for a piece so large as this. They instead chose of their own accord to ‘enhance’ my request in these ways, though ultimately I did not protest, because this single gift made especially for me was still far less costly to the town than those first offerings, and because… it is something I cherish more than any mountain of gold. A piece of my people and our unique heritage, kept with me at all times, particularly when I stand to protect them. And after each subsequent battle, when they tried again to offer me new treasures, I instead would give them back this same pendant and ask that they clean it for me. To make it shine as new. And they would, sometimes also adding gems which they probably believed I wouldn’t notice. But my point is, Sophia, that my people were content with this arrangement, rather than alternatives significantly richer and more damaging to their own prosperity, because I myself asked them for it.”

Sophia nodded, glad for Nemora’s openness and similarly gentle spirit, but still encountered trouble in creating a solution for her own internal struggle. To request the one-time creation of a necklace was one thing, but her people had insisted on a feast. And this was only the beginning. What was she supposed to do, then, Sophia wondered? Just ask for a smaller feast? The thought of ordering even a single roast chicken like the collection of a debt for saving their lives was still abhorrent to her. And what if, after every invasion of monsters, a new precedent was set wherein half the winter stores were emptied out to help throw her a party?

“Consider this, too,” Sigrid declared from Sophia’s other side. “My first defense took place… a great many seasons ago. The city I defend is very large. Roughly seventeenfold times the population of yours, young one. But it wasn’t always that way. Our people suffered countless incursions before I was appointed a Guardian. Supplies were always low, the march of progress curtailed by grief and wanting. It is not pride, but simple fact, for me to say that this hardship was no longer the case under my watch. The people prospered, the city developed, and generations were allowed to see old age. So when the time came that they offered me a feast of thankfulness, and I was confident that a meal of such size would not take from the plates of those I had sworn to protect, I did not refuse them their desire: their chance, as Nemora said, to express their love. Nor did I even request a compromise for their grand offering. Twice a year ever since then, I enjoy their hospitality. The food they prepare for me is, technically, of vast quantity and great value, but lesser still by far than what they would be cost, were there not a Guardian present to defend them. And every season, without fail, their resources grow, as do the number of people I protect. I sleep perfectly adequately each night, knowing this, and so do my charges.”

The lump in Sophia’s throat was finally swallowed, and she greatly appreciated both her mentors in a whole new dimension. Hearing the genuine feeling and reason in both their voices, albeit more sensitively drawn-out from Nemora and typically succinct from Sigrid, made it impossible for the freshest-faced Guardian to even clandestinely disapprove in the slightest measure of these differing arrangements with their villages. They knew exactly how she felt. From the sound of it, their people were happy, safe, and no bellies ever rumbled. What more could be asked for? And as Nemora had so correctly pointed out, her people did deserve the chance to manifest how they felt, even if Sophia did not believe herself worthy of even a fraction of the adoration she’d felt emanating from the crowd today. After all, she herself had been raised upon a certain code of right-and-wrong, and whenever a selfless kindness was done for her – not uncommon, considering the generosity of the village – Sophia was not one to let that benevolence be ignored. Not because the other person expected something in return, or because she herself was obligated to pay them. But because it was good.

Still, after slapping on a smile and offering heartfelt thanks to her closest Guardian advisors for their wisdom, Sophia was keenly and distressingly conscious of the fact that when she told them she felt so much better now, it was a lie.