A Guardian's Ascension (Chapter 5)

“Hello, Torv,” Sophia murmured at last, fiercely affectionate but still with an audible strain of implied apology. Once her choice to ascend and stand in permanent defense of the village had been gifted to her following the previous rift attack, there really didn’t seem any option except to act for the greatest good, but that didn’t mean the five-hundred-footer hadn’t been plagued intensely by guilt for so abruptly abandoning her love and then reshaping the progress of their ongoing relationship. Her heartbeat trounced its most fervently yet, not just because of her yearning and passion for her one-day life-mate, but with full anxiety-riddled knowledge that Torv most of all would deservedly require a certain adjustment to the changes made in her life, and by extension, their future life together.

“Soph,” he projected back, matching her tone in wistful amorousness, which caused Sophia’s stomach to populate with nervous romantic butterflies the size of eagles. All she needed for now was that promising sound from the mouth of her partner, particularly to be addressed as she was more-comfortably accustomed, and the giantess was instantly reassured that things with Torv could and would be all right again, just as they always had been, or at least as near as possible. She was more than ready to make up for lost time, in whatever ways were required of her.

As much as Sophia wanted to wrap her fingers around each of them now for a grand gesture of safety and affection, she settled for just gingerly thumb-clutching her mother, but was nevertheless suffused with love and vehement protectiveness toward her whole family as they ventured closer. It would’ve been asking too much, she realized, to expect everything to be exactly as it once was between them all, right off the bat. After all, she was capable of holding them all in the palm of her hand now, and their weight likely would’ve felt indistinguishable from a feather. Such physical trivialities wouldn’t matter in the end, though, Sophia soothed herself by silent affirmation. They were still a family, and would all give their lives to keep the others safe. It just so happened now that she was the most capable now of giving that to them. And the towering Guardian knew within a minute of their reunion, although the happiness and wellbeing of every person in the village was her greatest concern from now on, these five precious beings gathered beside her humongous hand were the reason for her agreement to this sacred duty.

“We were wondering, Lady Sophia…” Elder Varkas said, as more awkward-but-still-heartfelt pleasantries were exchanged among the family, mainly between Sophia and her parents. “If we… might ask something important of you?”

“Of course,” Sophia sighed with an unburdened smile. This, at last, was more appropriate to her. She had grown hundreds of feet taller, trained hard with the most powerful entities on Earth, and battled slobbering hordes with the sole intention to serve this village, and ingloriously anticipated learning whatever new way she might continue to do so. It might even help her family adjust more quickly to the new normal, Sophia believed, if they saw the “her” they’d always known doing what she did best: striving to be of service to others. “Anything.”

“What meal would please you most to have for your feast, in celebration and thanks for what you’ve done here for us all?” the elder sincerely questioned, just as the final pockets of cheering and clapping faded. “Please, tell us. What can we make for you?”

“Oh, really, you’re too good to me,” the giantess said with a light chuckle. “Truly, though, you needn’t worry yourselves about feeding me. The Citadel provides everything I need!”

“We understand, Lady Sophia. But still, we wish it, if you’d allow us, to make this offering. The pleasure and responsibility is wholly ours. How else may we show our gratitude?”

Sophia looked out across the populous congregation of eager faces, all looking up at her in hopeful anticipation of her answer. She made an effort not to show her taken-aback alarm, especially given that this query on behalf of the council and entire village turned out to be so selflessly kind. She knew even the slightest reluctant emotion from her would easily be read by the huge crowds of her miniscule neighbors at once. Her family would pick up on it even faster. Yes, she’d heard talk from other Guardians about receiving exquisite congratulatory suppers post-defense, prepared by legions of the respective region’s finest cooks, though generally she’d only heard of such over-the-top endowments happening in larger and more affluent towns. By contrast, Sophia’s village wasn’t “poor,” exactly, but the size of their harvest banquets was always strictly dependent upon the previous farming and trading seasons. She knew very well that they weren’t equipped for whipping up victory spreads without warning, especially for someone the size of Sophia, who now in a single bite necessitated a quantity of food that, in lean times, could feed her entire family for several days.

Observing the sea of tiny cherished countenances gathered around her boots and enormous palm, reality suddenly clicked. Sophia recognized beyond a shadow of a doubt that these people, her people, desperately and absolutely felt an obligation to feed her a costly feast in thanks for her defeat of this yet-largest incursion. They weren’t simply offering so much as pleading in the politest terms possible; somehow, too, she guessed this wasn’t the last sacrifice they’d desire to make for her. Though it made the giantess feel shame to even think so, Sophia couldn’t help but feel there was a sense of overblown near-cultish hero worship taking place here, though it made her sick with embarrassment to even remotely equate herself with the word “hero.” She’d noticed their fawning behavior from the moment they approached, of course, but for the first time the giantess’s broken denial allowed her to see what was happening below her. The very notion that she was not only above these folks in scale, but in their minds also so exponentially ascendant in worth as well caused a swollen knot to lace itself in her stomach, gradually overcoming the lovesick flutter Sophia felt at seeing her family and life-mate.

This was… wrong.

“I knew I had missed the hospitality of my home. I just didn’t realize how much until this moment,” the Guardian declared, consciously concealing her discomfort, as flattery and praise radiated from the chattering crowd. Abruptly, then, she realized the best and coincidentally honest way out of this difficult moment: “I will give your generous offer thought and tell you when I have an answer, though I must say to everyone here, that your presence and affections are the greatest thanks you could ever give. Unfortunately, I must leave you again now, as the Guardians will await my report after this latest event. But believe me that I will return very soon, ready to stand for all of you.”

This explanation seemed to successfully prevent the need for Sophia making outlandish cuisine requests to a village that she feared, given too much zealousness, might accidentally starve itself in the name of good manners. More applause rang out while, slowly, the giantess pushed herself back into an upright position from the cliffside after sharing a temporary-farewell nod with her puny kin, then waited for the overenthusiastic boot-cleaners to scatter out of her way, until it was safe for the five-hundred-twenty-seven-foot titaness to take her first steps across the valley again. Upon touching the silver stone packed in a tiny satchel beneath her uniform folds, Sophia reopened the direct portal to the Citadel courtyard. As nervous as she’d felt coming out of it earlier, the feeling of uncertainty was strangely rawer now, especially after hearing the sheer reverential glee in the villagers’ cheering as she waved goodbye for now, and vanished against the forested backdrop.