Guardians by Design - Land
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Brenloru was the first to arrive at the lake on the day of rendezvous. He couldn’t help but worry for his team, hoping none had run into complications. He let out a long call, facing south. Orange light of dawn covered the mountain face his voice echoed from. The long, deep call ricocheted, projecting it over the valley he had traversed and into the forest. Steam trailed from his gaping mouth, exhaled breath mixing with cool morning air. Keeping his eyes on the river leading to the lake, he hoped Dahj had risen just as early.

Next, he followed the mountain ridge descending in elevation towards the river for a glimpse of Reblex. The ram was notoriously the last to wake, but perhaps today Reb had pushed himself to get an early start. Lastly, he checked the tree line of the forest, waiting for Festelda to emerge. Fighting off encroaching anxiety, he reminded himself that there had been no specific meeting time.

Unsure if this was the lake that the underground voice had referenced, he decided to walk the entirety of the shore to check for signs of a cave roof. Beginning at the mouth of the river Dahj should be following, he carefully stepped from log to log that beavers had meticulously piled across it’s width to create their dam. It acted as convenient bridge for him to get to the other side. As he crossed, he admired multiple beavers delivering additional supplies to fortify their structure. They replied only with stern looks, long teeth exposed. Unamused by his bold assumption that their bridge could be used freely, they glared at him, as if expecting some sort of toll for passage.

Heading clockwise, he used a long stick to push aside lily pads and tall marsh grasses to uncover any clues of an entrance. Occasionally he would be knee deep in the pool that smelled of rot, disturbing cat tails that released seeds into the wind when touched. He coughed and spit the light, fluffy vessels that clung to his face and tongue. Tadpoles scurried away aimlessly into the murky water, threatened by his bumbling legs.

The lake floor was soft and layered with debris. Mud squished between his toes and clouded the water with every step, greatly reducing visibility. “Best to keep to the shore,” he grumbled, then silently cursed his new posture – moose were typically fond of consuming aquatic plants, and felt sturdy on four long legs, tipped with hooves. Now he found himself swaying, stumbling, and grabbing onto long reeds for balance in merely shallow waters.

“Asking the frogs for direction?” Dahj called from behind.

“About time you guys showed up!” he replied as Reblex, Festelda, and Kemble followed Dahj to the lake’s edge.

“Kemble, fancy seeing you again. I assume you did not follow our directions as closely as you should have?” Brenloru asked, eyebrows raised as he trudged out of the mud.

“I… I ran into some friends on the way,” Kemble stuttered, turning his blocky head to gesture towards his shoulder wound.

“He is a noble boar that kept the best interest of the Homestead in mind during his journey,” Festelda boasted.

“I see… I’m glad to hear that. We will get you patched up, Kemble.” Brenloru reached for his pouch and kicked away mud that clung to his leg. “I trust the land didn’t offer anyone else any trouble?” He inspected each member of the group from a distance, checking for more wounds. “Festelda, your hand!”

“Heh, a mere casualty in the fight to save my friend here,” she said, exposing the quivering paw.

Pollen, sap, root, Brenloru listed. Mixing the combination in his mortar, he applied it to Kemble’s puncture wound. Ground root filled the perforations, and sap sealed it shut with a sticky seam. Pollen numbed the wound and the surrounding irritated flesh, bringing Kemble relief.

“Bren… I must say; I’m worried! Before we know it, you’ll be abandoning us to start your own practice!” Dahj teased.

“I have something for you as well, Fes. I think…” the medicinal moose said with a smug grin. Clearing the previous combination from his mortar, he moved on to a blend of white pedals, moist stems, and vegetable oil. A soothing paste was produced, which he applied to Festelda’s hand.

“I’m sorry for ever doubting you, Bren,” Festelda admitted, instantaneously experiencing a cooling sensation. “Your aiding mixtures are almost as powerful as my harmful ones,” she added with a wink.

Festelda and Kemble divulged the encounter with the wolves to the group. The Guardians praised her for her noble defense, and her ability to disable two wolves with only the help of a frightened boar. However, Kemble still took more credit than he was given.

Reblex simply mentioned the outstanding view he had from the top of the ridgeline.

Dahj and Brenloru compared stories and realized they shared a similar destination. Both tips from different individuals – the owl, as well as the Land Soul, had matched. They were looking for a cave entrance in the lake.

“So, you only heard him. Didn’t see him, right?” Dahj asked.

“Yes,” Brenloru replied sternly. “The crack wasn’t even wide enough to fit my rack through. His story was believable, however. If we find the cave, we find him.”

“I don’t get it,” Reblex butted in, “if he controls the shape of the land, why doesn’t he just… move the rocks entrapping him?

“He sounded weak. That part of the story I haven’t been granted yet. Besides, moving land such as rocks, boulders, mountains, caves, tunnels, et cetera. They take time – it could very well take him a hundred years to shape the cage he is trapped within in order to escape,” Brenloru replied.

“So, if he can’t even get himself out, how are we supposed to help him?” Reblex pressed.

“I don’t know, I just figured you’d slam your big empty skull against the stone wall,” Dahj said, grasping one of Reblex’s thick horns to shake the ram’s head.

***

The group put Kemble back on the right track towards the Homestead before saying their farewells to the boar once again. As Kemble hobbled off while grunting, the Guardians split up and circled the lake. Twice. Neither rotation yielded clues that resembled a cave entrance. Festelda offered to dive under and look around, but could barely open her eyes, much less see anything through the murky waters. Besides, raccoons weren’t the strongest swimmers. They started to lose hope. Perhaps the tips were mind games; purposefully misleading to throw the Guardians off a trail. Two separate false voices had persuaded them to waste time wandering around a lake.

“Even if we find the entrance, we have no idea which way it leads,” Dahj noted in frustration. “Up, down, left, right. How much of it is submerged, or how long we will be expected to swim while holding our breath. If only the water level was lower…” He bit his lip and looked around the lake, then laid eyes on the beaver dam.

***

Miles to the east, Maurlynn stood about two hundred yards from Cedar Homestead. Proudly perched atop the very hill Dahj had once ascended before his first arrival, she gazed down at the massive tree with a sinister grin. There was no fog or foul weather today. The tree stood triumphantly before the backdrop of a jagged-peaked, snow-capped mountain range. Her buff coat resembled freshly-polished brass that shined beautifully in the sunlight, being exposed for the first time in many, many years.

Stretching her long, feline body allowed every inch of her skin to soak in rays of mid-morning sun. A short-haired, white tipped tail flicked in excitement, and the beast’s massive paws sank slightly into the wet soil under her incredible weight. Dense muscles showed through the fine fur of her shoulders and back. Her face was wide and rounded, masked with white fur that circled her bright, golden eyes and brown nose – slightly resembling the shape of a skull. Savage and intimidating, the white fur rounded her forehead with squared tips that ran towards her ears, and squared off at her chin. Two fangs hung near the level of her knees. They had the circumference of thick branches, slowly narrowing to the end of the spectacular canines.

A grizzly bear accompanied her at her side, looking quite dwarfed in comparison, and a pack of five wolves lined before her. Various other predators played with each other, growling and nipping. A fox chased down and snatched up a field mouse just before it made it to its hole.

“On your mark, Maurlynn,” the bear growled.

“Remember: find him immediately – it is the top priority,” she announced to the group. “Maim anything else that gets in the way.” Maurlynn followed the statement with an explosive roar from the back of her throat, rallying the group of wild predators to descend the hill.

***

“Knock knock!” Dahj said excitedly, encouraging beavers residing within the dam to acknowledge their presence.

Light rustling came from within the barrier from the beavers shifting slightly, unwilling to be summoned from their beds of grasses and leaves. Babies squeaked in protest of the disturbance.

“Sorry to bother you…” Dahj awkwardly yelled at the wall of sticks, “...but we were hoping you could assist us in lowering the level of this lake!”

The stench of rot and waterlogged wood wafted through gaps in the pile of branches held together by mud. The essence of decomposition filled Dahj’s lungs and head, reminding him of the dank tunnels that sprawled from the Homestead. He couldn’t help but wonder how an animal could live like this. A sense of claustrophobia gripped him from imagining being kept in a home constructed of walls soaked in water, rather than valleys of fresh air to roam.

Upon shifting his angle to look deeper into the home, he actually found it to look quite cozy. Piles of leaves mixed with tufts of fur had been pushed to the sides for the purpose of bedding. Multiple groups of young huddled together near meals they had seemingly been unable to finish before falling asleep. The dim lighting provided the feeling of perpetual dusk or dawn. There was no doubt that this would make an excellent napping area.

One beaver finally came to a gap in the branches to address the visitors, looking quite irritated. “And how exactly, are we to just… drain the lake, hmm?” he asked through buck teeth.

“Well, I kind of assumed it worked like a door, no?”

The beaver snickered at his ignorance. “You flatter our ingenuity, sir. But on the contrary, to open this barrier would be undoing years… years worth of work! Completely defeating the whole purpose of the dam!”

“We are looking for a cave within the lake. Do you know of it?” Brenloru asked. His long snout bumped the saturated sticks.

“Yes, yes, the cave is there. To the north. We do not go there anymore, though. Those that enter never come back!” Spittle was forced through a wide gap between the beaver’s teeth.

“The threat, yes,” Dahj said, relieved to find something to relate to the beaver with.

“Something very bad lives within that cave, beaver,” Brenloru added. “We are a group of… enforcers, if you will. This individual is responsible for breaking many laws of nature. We are here to put an end to her atrocities.”

“So, you will just kill them back?” the beaver said, eyebrow raised. “I don’t really see how killing will solve killing.”

A female beaver huddled near her young gasped at the proposal, unable to conceal her eavesdropping any longer. She scurried away from the group through the structure, refusing to acknowledge the Guardian’s plea.

“No, no. There won’t be any killing anymore. As long as we can gain access to her…” Brenloru said reassuringly. “How many have you lost, beaver? How many of other species have you witnessed being slayed? This must end soon. The aggression, the thirst for flesh. We must work together as herbivores to reclaim our land before future generations are culled by claw-tipped paws and fang-lined jaws. Only then will we return to a safer time; where inhabitants of this land fed on plants instead of each other.”

“…Even if I decide to allow you to modify my dam to allow water to flow, how much would you need to destroy?” the beaver asked, seeming persuaded.

“Merely a small gap in the middle, only letting enough water to access the cave,” Dahj replied. He shifted the bear pelt tied around his waist that was slowly becoming heavier from saturating with scummy river water.

The beaver looked back and forth at the group through waterlogged branches, packed with debris as they pleaded with their eyes. “Let me gather my kin. I will not assist in the destruction of my own work. Good luck to you, anyway. This fortification is mud-clad.” The beaver turned immediately, hoping they would only destroy that which was necessary.

***

The group spent what felt like hours delicately removing stick after stick from the dam. Stomping through the river, it required at least two to carry the larger logs to the side while being careful not to slip on the rocks. Reblex had already taken a couple of spills, soaking his legs and chest which would not be quick to dry in the cool shade of the mountain range. Offering to just ‘run right through the thing’ while red in the face was met by denial from Brenloru.

“We’re not going make enough progress before sundown at this rate…” said Dahj.

“Well unless you have some way of cracking through it, this is all we’ve got,” Festelda said while walking along the top with a haul of twigs.

Dahj thought back to when grasses and rocks covered his fists, empowering them to fight off an assaulting wolf – perhaps he could gain the strength of the soil and plants again.

Dahj walked to the edge of the river and inspected the ground around him, positioning himself between the tallest reeds and smallest stones. First untying the bear pelt he wore around his waist to drop the heavy hide, he lifted his arms level to the ground. Every moment that passed felt more awkward. Was there a magic word? A physical action to perform? Dahj worried that the land would only respond to his desperation if he was in danger. Do I really need to go out and get attacked by a wolf for this to work? He hoped that the tentacle had something to do with it, but questioned its capabilities as it was yet to be fully charged.

Tremors ran through the soil. Festelda let out a gasping laugh as reeds surrounding the bison were ripped from the ground to meet Dahj’s fists and forearms. The grasses covered his ankles, legs, and parts of his chest. Bark from surrounding trees quivered before being peeled away, as if by an invisible bear scratching at the trunks. The bark flew off in plates towards Dahj, intricately covering the parts of his body already wrapped in a layer of long grasses, creating a cragged pattern of thin, tough wood.

Dahj had a moment to catch his breath before rocks around him shook similarly to the bark. Various, seemingly hand-picked stones of perfect size and shape met bark, creating his final layer of fortification.

He was empowered by the land. Though the fortification did not offer complete protection, it covered his arms, legs, and some vital areas of his chest. Dahj retrieved the bludgeon at his side, then turned a stern gaze on the dam. Hilt of the bludgeon grasped in both hands, he let out a tremendous, adrenaline-filled roar as he ran towards the waterlogged barrier.

Leaping into the air, he brought the head of his weapon down forcefully onto the wooden wall. The bludgeon broke at the head, sending the rock attached to it flying off to the right. Dahj’s momentum carried him head-first into a sturdy log, sending a dull clunk of skull against wood resonating across the lake.

Reblex doubled over. Howling in laughter, he grabbed at branches poking through the dam to keep from falling over into muck he stood knee-deep in. Festelda winced, holding back pitiful laughter as Brenloru assisted the defeated, soaking-wet bison to his feet.

“I don’t think that was a fitting tool, Dahj. It is not empowered by the land. You are,” the moose said, patting Dahj on the back.

“Right…” Dahj replied, rubbing his bruised forehead. “Plan C.”

Steadying himself, Dahj regained his vision by focusing on the dead center of the dam. Clenching his fingers within the rock fists caused the shell to shift slightly, producing a light crunching sound. Charging upstream in a high-knee run splashed water to his side. He leapt, then brought the force of the stone fists down on a focused point in the wall.

The dam let out a terrific sound of shattering, splintering, and splashing as it was split directly down the middle. Retained water from the lake cascaded through the initial split. The force of the transitioning water level pushed the broken dam walls further open like flood gates.

A moment passed as the group, including Dahj, stared in shock at the shattered barrier. The water level did not drop a noticeable amount at first, but the group circled clockwise around the edge of the lake once again to check for an entrance point to the fabled cave. Muddy ground was revealed, covered in muck and reeds that now laid on their side without the assistance of the water to suspend them vertically. Frogs were surprised to be suddenly uncovered, and retreated to the shifting shroud of the water level with guttural croaking.

What was once a lake quickly shrank to a large pond as it released into the river that widened considerably. Fish inhabiting the lake fret in confusion as their groups became tighter under the receding water line. Dahj pitied them, but was confident the water level would eventually rise again with the restructuring of the dam, along with seasonal rainfall and snowmelt.

“Over here!” Festelda shouted across the shallow pond.

“I thought these boulders looked promising,” she said, perched upon the very top of an archway that led to a cave opening. The group circled around, staying on dry ground.

Dahj had retrieved his pelt before proceeding towards the point of interest. Wearing it like a cape, he trusted that the hide would insulate his soaked body, or at least provide some comfort through his embarrassment. Cautiously investigating the entrance, he slogged through mud and debris. Water and partially decomposed plants dripped on the back of their necks and shoulder as the party ventured into the soaked tunnel. Footing and grip was unstable. There wasn’t a single surface that wasn’t covered in a thin layer of slick algae. The group fell silent as they moved further into the dank tunnel that was quickly growing darker.

The path ahead ascended quickly, then, abruptly became completely dry and dimly lit. The area was surprisingly quite pleasant. The rock pathway had been smoothed from thousands of footsteps and lightly dusted from debris tracked from other parts of the underground lair. It felt cozy and warm, like a place to shelter one’s self from unforgiving outdoor conditions.

Other than the occasional drops of condensed moisture, the tunnel was deathly silent. If it wasn’t for the scarce, dimly burning torches lining the wall, Dahj may have believed it to be a crypt; carefully designed for the respected dead that had been left here thousands of years ago.

Dahj’s pouch started to vibrate. The tentacle was humming lightly while tugging at his waist, encouraging him to proceed forward. It hovered away from his body as if someone had grabbed it, pulling Dahj by the pouch deeper into the hallway.

Obliging the lead, the group continued until they met a fork in the cave. A cool breeze came from the left path. Stale, musty air carrying a putrid smell wafted from the right.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. That way leads out,” Brenloru said, irritated. He gestured towards the left. “I can smell the natural air from here!”

The pouch tugged to the right.

“It may have been even more treacherous. There must have been a reason that this was the only suggested entrance,” Dahj replied quickly. Without a second thought, he proceeded right.

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