Guardians by Design - Land
Picking up the Pieces

Some time later…

The ground beneath Dahj’s limp body shook violently. Small crags split through the dry, yellow rock, sprawling from the lifeless Guardian. Small ripples scattered throughout the pool of blood that silhouetted him, bouncing and splashing in response to the geographical reverberation as if trying to leap from the dry, dusty soil to the sky above. Dahj’s corpse had been abandoned by friend and foe. The only thing that accompanied him now, atop the treacherous ridgeline, beneath the expansive, deep blue sky, was the sopping-wet bear pelt that had once provided warmth and comfort.

Festelda broke away from Brenloru and Reblex, whom had both been immediately pursued by the blood-thirsty queen of predators. The raccoon’s tiny heart raced in her chest while planting her left heel into the ground before taking a hard-right turn. Dust of chalky soil was kicked up, momentarily shrouding her frame as she turned to see a less-than-fit moose flee on awkward legs from two long fangs that would easily pierce his thin hide, just as they had Dahj’s.

If Maurlynn had called on any further assistance to aide her pursuit, all three remaining Guardians would have been easily chased down to become a lite summer snack. Luckily, it had been her, and her alone to pounce on the investigating herbivores. The pack of predators spotted approaching the lake would not be able to assist any time soon.

Instinct told the group of Guardians to split up. Wordlessly, they communicated their evasive maneuvers in an instant. Brenloru had turned to his right, quickly running towards the precarious pathway that descended from the feral cave – recently confirmed to be Maurlynn’s lair. Reblex shot left, alternating power between each of his legs to take heavy strides across the rocky terrain before leaping onto the rocks that would quickly grant him higher ground. As if magnetized, Festelda had scurried towards a pine tree, covered in bark that provided a generous amount of grip to cling to.

Don’t get cornered… Don’t get cornered. Break vision. Get to higher ground. Cover your scent. Her own teachings rang through her head at a deafening volume as she intentionally kicked up dust, zig-zagged through tall grass, and weaved around the first two trees she reached to eliminate predictability. The moment her thin claws punctured fragrant bark, she desperately pulled upwards to scale the tree as quickly as possible.

Brenloru let out a painful howl about thirty yards away. More out of fright than injury, Maurlynn’s claw had caught the back of his leg just as he took a daring leap from a raised boulder that crested the pathway leading to her cave’s threshold. The ground continued to rumble. Maurlynn was lucky to connect even a single claw, as her reckless pursuit had cost her dearly. The boulder Brenloru had leapt from popped upwards, disturbed from the increasingly agitated earth. Seemingly becoming much lighter in an instant, the boulder caught Maurlynn in the bottom of her chin.

Severely disoriented, she fell to her side. Blood trickled from her mouth, caused by the self-inflicted injury of biting her own tongue in the upper-cut of stone to her lower jaw. She shook her masked head and used the back of her heavy paw to wipe the blood from the corner of her mouth. The ground continued to shake as she whipped around to relocate her easiest target – the injured moose.

Festelda locked eyes on Dahj’s corpse. Please get up. Please get up, she thought, though Dahj’s blatant prognosis urged her to leave. The pool of blood seeping from his wounds had only grown larger around his body. Two gaping punctures had easily drained even a beast of his size in seconds. Festelda knew Dahj’s tale had ended – it was what he carried with him that she was now concerned about. She kept an unwavering stare on his corpse from her shrouded vantage point as the feline monstrosity in her peripheral vision began to sniff the air. Still quite dazed, Maurlynn was attempting to catch a whiff of her prey to resume her pursuit.

Reblex hadn’t been spotted since the initial commotion. Festelda trusted that if it came to scaling a cliff face, he would be literal leaps-and-bounds ahead of the titan-like carnivore, and likely be long gone by now. The tree Festelda had retreated to swayed greatly in the wind-less air. Tightening her grip around the frail branch she had perched upon, she desperately hoped that the earth’s quake would subside before the shifting land claimed her tree. Unfortunately, the swaying of the tree had yet to grant her any suitable angles that would provide vision of Reblex’s curved horns or red markings.

Instead, Festelda turned back to Maurlynn, who had seemingly hesitated. Had she caught Brenloru’s scent – now easily identifiable by a trail of blood he had left on the air during his escape? The cat was clearly struggling. The impact from a boulder of that size had justifiably stripped her of her confidence in the surrounding terrain. Digressing from her hot pursuit, she now assumed a prowl-like advance. Staying as close to the ground as possible, her ears twitched and her head whipped back and forth as she nervously analyzed the next move of the land itself. After only four steps forward, it shifted again.

Festelda could feel Maurlynn’s fear as the hill face closest to her left shoulder crumbled and popped on command. With a cone-shaped spray, it burst. A loud explosion of grinding stone and shattering rubble pummeled the cat’s side, throwing her down once again. The crest of the pathway where Dahj’s corpse had been left reacted in a complying manner. Thin gaps in the earth beneath the bison’s body grew wider, and reached further like stone tendrils hastily seeking moisture.

Rumbling throughout the landscape persisted. Maurlynn was not quick to get up after the land’s most recent assault upon her. Perhaps finally succumbing to her injuries, Festelda suspected that it was likely feigned in an attempt to yield to her assaulter. The crags beneath Dahj’s body widened further. Festelda gasped, realizing multiple splits would soon become a pit-fall. The land was creating a stone tomb in which to bury the fallen Guardian.

Festelda had a window of mere moments to recover the Designer’s appendage from Dahj’s side pouch before it was swallowed by the rocks, falling into a deep canyon along with his body. Maurlynn had not risen. She had to act.

Despite being perched on the lowest branch, Festelda had reached a height easily capable of significant injuries should she drop in freefall. Anxiety-laced blood pumped through the back of her skull. Maurlynn was soon to rise. Dahj, along with the tentacle, was soon to fall. The ground continued to shake, preparing for its next assault on the queen. The tree continued to sway, gently encouraging Festelda to take the leap as climbing down a vertical, moving object was undoubtably the most foolish option. The crags continued to widen. Dahj’s left arm limply relaxed, allowing it to hang over the sheer drop, unintentionally reaching into the abyss below.

Just as Festelda dug her hind claws into soft bark to launch herself from the swaying limb, the wind picked up behind her. A swift gust tossed her body like a severed branch towards the ground below. Screeching, she desperately flailed her arms to clutch the tree she was quickly gaining distance from. In the moment of being airborne, willpower overtook fear. She bit her tongue to suppress another shout that demanded to escape her lips. Plummeting towards barren terrain, she was projected directly towards Dahj’s body. Should she shout again, Maurlynn would easily locate her.

The tumbling raccoon clenched her eyes and jaw as she allowed the elements to decide her fate. She found it ironic that only an hour prior, from deep within a predator’s lair, she had been convinced Land and Atmosphere would be her only feasible allies. Yet – it seemed clear now – she had been lied to. A combination of strong winds against solid stone was eager to claim her.

The impact never came. Her eyes had remained clenched shut, but the rushing sound of wind through her ears had stopped. The rumbling of the earth below her continued, but only in sound. The sensation of impact she experienced was not rough and jagged, but instead a light tingling that ran across her chest and around four paws. It felt moist, like she had fallen straight through rock and into a light mist. But it wasn’t a mist, she found upon opening her eyes, it was denser, and squishier; closer resembling a cloud. Sunlight refracted off the cushion that caught her, merely inches from her face. Temporarily blinding her, the cushion’s saturated texture flowed between fingers that had remained sprawled and outstretched, instinctually waiting to catch her weight against stone.

Before she could clench her fingers into a fist to squeeze the cloud, it was gone. Pulling away in thin strands over the side of the sheer cliff face beside her, the savior departed as quickly as it had appeared. Realizing that her left paw still felt wet, despite no longer holding the cloud, Festelda looked down to find she was standing on all fours, cupping a rock soaked in Dahj’s blood with her right forepaw.

Another violent scream barged through the back of her throat and into her mouth, but met clenched lips. Her eyes widened and her ears stood rigid as the paw now glazed in her friend’s fluids began to shake violently. No, she demanded of herself. Just grab it and get out of here.

Festelda desperately pulled at the bear pelt that loosely covered Dahj’s body. Saturated in water and blood, it now weighed twice as much as the dried pelt she was once unable to budge. Why hadn’t the ram or moose at least considered coming back for the thing we worked so hard on to feed! she wondered cynically. Her claws dug into the thick, tanned hide beneath sticky fur. Her arms quaked, muscles exhausted.

This whole trip… the hiking, the climbing, the traveling, the scaling. All of it to end like this. Hair on the back of her neck tingled. Paranoia taunted her. She could almost feel Maurlynn rising, closing the distance between herself and the object of power she desired. Does she even know about it? Festelda thought, breaking into a pant. Was she just chasing us off so she could double back and claim a piece of Ohmlur? Or has she abandoned the fallen bison?

Warm air hit the back of Festelda’s neck. It sent a shiver down her spine that allowed a light gasp to escape her clenched jaw. Maurlynn’s breath. She was unsure if the low growl behind her was the ferocious cat or the everlasting rumble of the persisting earthquake. Festelda whipped around to face her attacker head on, only to find that she was still alone with Dahj and his unmoving blanket.

Now turned away from Dahj, she was instead hit from behind from another gust of warm wind. The bear pelt was tossed over her in the gust, knocking her down and gently pinned her legs. Festelda turned once more, now lying on her stomach to find the tentacle writhing from within its pouch; relinquishing the idea of receiving any assistance and attempting an escape of its own. She couldn’t help but allow a light-headed chuckle at the sight of the land-based tentacle squirming from its confines to become yet another deserter of the bison.

Though the appendage was capable of movement, it was still quite dumb, and very blind. Half of its mass was already dangling directly over the quickly-widening gap below, like a snake using half its body to reach a higher branch. Festelda dove, grabbing the rocky end of the tentacle and pulling it back, just as Dahj’s weight was offset. He tumbled into the chasm.

Tossing the solid girth of the tentacle over her shoulder, Festelda turned to identify a potential new path leading down from the ridgeline, created by the shifting commotion of the ongoing earthquake. Following her instincts towards the horizon, she swayed slightly under the weight of her new possession.

She could see the lake. Still and undisturbed, it seemed unaffected by the geological reconstruction taking place only a couple hundred yards away. It would be her best bet to head towards a familiar landmark before orienting herself towards the Homestead and commencing her trek home. But, there was no path. There was no longer a smoothed ascension. Rubble and boulders had moved, blocking the path that once seemed feasible. She couldn’t jump… any of these blind corners could lead to an unexpected drop either of great heights or leaving her pinned between stone that could easily shift once again.

The tentacle urged her forward, encouraging the desperate leap. Well, I guess I didn’t have a choice last time either, she thought, furrowing her brow at her new sidekick. Clenching her eyes shut, she dove.

In an instant, damp clouds broke her fall, then whisked away, pulled into long strands. The strands curled and tied together to slightly resemble an arrow that, surprisingly, pointed directly opposite the Homestead. Festelda watched in a trance, questioning her skills in navigation that were being defied by the elemental guidance. Her orientation was rudely interrupted by a deep growl, gently reverberating over her right shoulder. This time, the sound wasn’t geological. The warm air she felt tickle the back of her neck had come from the lungs of a beast. Festelda turned to find herself face-to-face with a white mask that resembled a skull.

The battered feline locked her golden eyes with Festelda’s. Red rays of the setting sun refracted through the nearly pupil-less spheres, petrifying the banded assassin in fear as Maurlynn looked through her head, into her soul. Attempting to search for motives, abilities, information, anything – the piercing gaze was instead promptly distracted by erratic movement of the tentacle draped over Festelda’s shoulder. The severed appendage waved desperately, frightened by the presence of someone it used to know.

Maurlynn’s lower jaw relaxed. Her eyes drooped along with her ears, and her rigid whiskers curled slightly, no longer supported by the muscles in her cheeks. “Ohmlur…” she whispered gently.

The cliff face beside the cat burst. A spray of rocks flew outwards, narrowly missing Festelda. A large pillar of solid stone had jutted outwards, hitting Maurlynn in her right side. With a painful wail she was suddenly, and forcefully pushed from the ridgeline towards the tree-tops below. The harsh snapping of brittle pine tree branches rang through the forest from the weight of the beast easily passing through them. A small group of mallards lifted themselves from the surface of the shallow, near-by lake with frantic quacking, quickly batting their wings against the reflective surface.

Festelda braced herself for another blast. Her stubborn feet held her in place from fear and fatigue, refusing to dodge the inevitable blow. The remnants of Maurlynn’s eyes lingered in the back of her head. Like setting a curse, the symmetrical image stared at her – now unwaveringly following her every step, move, and thought. A pair of golden spectacles that vowed to witness her future actions around trees, through night, and over mountains, eagerly awaiting the raccoon’s next play. Festelda stared back at the lingering sunspots as they slowly faded. As her pupils shrank to regain vision, the golden eyes before her turned quite skeletal. Round sockets of bone that housed rock replaced their illuminated silhouette. A skull – or, the outline of one.

The tectonic disturbance beneath Festelda’s feet had subsided. The ground relaxed, and a soothing silence passed over the nearby forest, allowing the gentle rustling of deciduous leaves to resonate above all else once again. Festelda’s ears rang lightly as the call of birds and rushing water replaced the chilling riot of cracking, popping, and shattering stone.

The appendage draped over her shoulder seemed to be pleased with Maurlynn’s departure as well. It had gone complacently limp, now gently swinging below her waist and brushing the dusty top layer of the soil below. Festelda reserved no emotions – they had been fried away upon the petite herbivore finding herself face-to-face with a mask of death. One emotion that would never be forced from her mind, however, was curiosity.

“How… did you get there?” Festelda mumbled to herself, allowing the piece of Ohmlur to drop from her shoulder. Its rock section hit the ground first, causing a light popping and scraping sound. The rest of the appendage squished pathetically as it met stone.

Festelda’s jaw hung slack as she approached the skeletal remains of a beast impeded within soft rock. The species, however, she couldn’t quite identify. Not a bison; the jaw line was much too long, and lined in viciously serrated teeth. Definitely a carnivore – and a very large one at that. Perhaps an oversized wolf or bear? No… Even though Festelda had recently skinned a grizzly, she didn’t exactly consider herself an expert in identifying the anatomy of larger mammals at a glance… but if her memory served her, the skull she was looking at did not resemble the specimen whose life was taken near the river of yellow rocks.

Her gaze traced down the spine of the animal. Long and rigid, it led from the back of the head to the tip of a very long tail. The creature seemingly had four legs and ‘paws’, but their size varied greatly. Only the hind legs were large… Judging by the size of the bones, its legs must have been the size of small tree trunks. The forelegs, however, were short and frail, tipped in claws as well. Impossible, that the stubby forelegs would be able to support the perceived weight of this beast.

It walked on two legs… Festelda thought, inspecting its extremities. Another Guardian… but how long ago?

Festelda had heard tales of ‘fossils’ in her younger years. Many in her gaze were quite fond of searching near dried-up river beds for various remnants that told short stories of the past. Ferns, leaves, and shells were common to find preserved within soft mud. But bones… she had never heard of someone recovering bones before. This frightening collection had been revealed due to the earthen assault of blasts and projectiles against Maurlynn.

“So, what’s your story?” Festelda asked the skeleton. “Based on the way you have arched your back upwards… your jaw gaped, your forearms pulled back in fright… You seem to have died a sudden, yet painful death, old carnivore.”

She felt pity for the beast, but accepted that its death was inevitable. Perhaps he was buried in this position by others in his pack, or possibly slain so swiftly that his remains never had the chance to be relocated to a more suitable resting place. “Who did you serve at the end of your life?” she inquired.

Festelda wasn’t ignorant… She now knew of the existence of other Guardians… Other species, other generations, other subjects. The thing that surprised her, however, was the fact that she found another animal capable of walking on two feet!

She recalled Ohmlur’s statements before their departure from the Homestead. He did claim Dahj’s posture to be unique to his species… However, she wouldn’t exactly describe this as ‘erect’, either. Based on the length of the tail and the size and positioning of the legs, the beast seemed to lean forward a great deal to walk on only two legs – not completely upright like the latest batch of Guardians. His posture isn’t ‘erect’ if he needed to use his body like a counterbalance.

Regardless of how straight the beast was able to stand on two legs – the most interesting aspect was that he was able to stand on two legs. Ohmlur, or Maurlynn, had clearly experimented with this concept long ago. I wonder what took him so long to bring it to other species, she thought. Maybe it wasn’t as practical at the time as they predicted it to be.

Festelda inspected the canine, still housed in the top-right portion of the fossilized beast’s jaw. Its surface was smooth and lightly cracked, but still sturdy as the last day it had been used to pierce flesh. Admiring them, she lightly brushed away dust and debris from the beast’s jawline.

Using a rock small enough to fit in the palm of her hand and a wad of dried grasses, she began excavating. The stone she chose had shattered and sharpened to a point at one end in the recent explosion, and grasses were just abrasive enough to remove soft rock while preventing damage to the fossilized canine. Chipping, brushing, and hammering, she easily chiseled though the rock that was easily persuaded to release its million-year grip from her new weapon. Festelda removed not only the right, but the left canine from the powerful jaw.

I’m running out of space to put all this stuff… she observed, holding a pair of teeth, each of considerable weight. Her pouches were still full of herbs and assorted nettles, powders, and poisons – ironic that after so much preparation and testing, she had yet to use them upon entering the cave to meet her greatest adversary.

With a deep grunt, she hoisted Ohmlur’s arm back to her shoulder. Dangling limply, it had seemingly fallen asleep out of boredom during her brief dig. There’s no way I’m bringing that bear pelt… she decided. I’ll make Reblex come back and collect it later for abandoning me.

Festelda turned, orienting herself in the direction of the Homestead. Nodding thanks to the imbedded skeleton whom would no longer be needing his canines, she vowed to designate a better use for them. As she smiled in approval, the wind picked up. Cresting over the ridgeline she stood atop, a strong gust rushed over her, displacing her fur and causing her to squint.

“Don’t return,” Festelda heard. The voice hissed sharply as if forced through gritted teeth. She paused to look at the skeleton. Had his mouth moved? Was that even possible? She looked the creature up and down for any signs of shifting. The rock surrounding its jaw hadn’t moved an inch. Displaced rock and silt would be a dead giveaway of that…

Another gust. “Don’t return… to cedar.”

“Excuse me?” she laughed nervously in response to the skeleton that was seemingly attempting to communicate with her.

A flurry crested the ridgeline – this time much more powerful than the last two. Festelda’s heart raced. An image of the beast’s skeleton she had stolen the teeth from passed through her head. It ripped through solid stone, clawing and crawling out of its tomb of eternity to pursue Festelda and reclaim his robbed body parts. She let out a small shriek and turned back towards the hill that seemed to be her only escape.

Taking her first step into the flurry that kicked up dust and small stones, debris pelted her chest and snapped twigs whizzed past her, forcing her to squint towards her path home.

“Southeast!” the wind bellowed. A command of relocation. The frightful image of a skeletal giant chasing her down a mountainous grade was replaced by a far more terrifying image; the Cedar Homestead in peril. Had someone back home sent this message? What could possibly be the reason to discourage the Guardian’s return? Maurlynn had just been present; she couldn’t possibly have been a threat to the Homestead all the way out here. Though, it was rare for her to leave her chamber; had she already paid a visit to the tree before returning home?

Festelda accepted the forceful elemental transportation, allowing herself to be picked up off her feet into a cyclone of deafening gusts on a defined path southeast. She gripped fossilized canines, along with Ohmlur’s severed appendage tightly, hoping for a reliable ride as she closed her eyes and kicked her feet.

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