20. The Flavor of Sunshine

Time stood still while the Tranquility Gate was closed, turning the space of centuries into a mere instant. Only when the Tranquility Gate opened to initiates each year did time gain meaning, the seconds and minutes marked by the rhythm of a living heart and the cadence of human voices. The passing of years in the outside world shrank into a few hundred ceremonies within the Tranquility Gate: a handful of hours spent observing the younger generations, either admiring the brilliance of their youthful passion or mourning the decline of the Order’s teachings.

In life, Solarion of Alta Zhaveir had been a prodigy, ascending to the paladin status at the age of thirteen—a record unbroken to date. After rebirth as a guardian, Solarion’s distinguishment in life translated into an uncommonly bright golden aura. Henceforth, he resided within the timeless domain of the Tranquility Gate, as was custom, to await a worthy hero. The definition of “worthy” had never been fully explained to him beyond the ever-elusive, “you’ll know it when you see it.” Thus he waited, and thus he watched. Thus the centuries unspooled. Initiates entered and paladins left with their new guardians, but Solarion had never found sufficient cause to reenter the mortal realm—until now. For the first time in his memory, a demon-corrupted infiltrator had dared challenge the Tranquillity Gate; the situation in the outside world must have grown dire, and that necessitated Solarion’s expertise.

After the demonic vessel met a predictable end, the next student hailed the Tranquility Gate. Silane of Lumivale saluted, and light unfurled from her hands. The offering spread across the surface of the carved archway and clung there, a lattice of ice-blue mana threadwork like starlight against marble. As Silane looked up, the Tranquility Gate and all the eyes within looked back, once again stirred from timeless slumber by her gift of mana.

“Puny mortal, for what purpose do you seek the guidance of those who came before?” the Tranquility Gate asked in a thousand ancient voices.

Silane stood tall in reply. “I would protect the world that I love from those who endanger it. Nine years ago, I saw my home overrun and my kin slaughtered. Since then, I have trained in the ways of the finest paladins alive—yet even their teachings pale in comparison to the wisdom of those who have made the ultimate sacrifice in the line of duty. I require the strength of the Ancient Ones to fulfill my purpose.”

A cone of light flooded from the Tranquility Gate, enveloping Silane in brilliance that had charred many a lesser being to cinders. The full weight of the Tranquility Gate’s attention slammed down over her, all-consuming. When the light faded, she stood unharmed, veiled in a shimmering shield-like layer of her own vitality.

“Your heart is pure. Your intent is true. Enter. May you find what you seek.” The stone archway of the Tranquility Gate dissolved into a portal, joining the mortal and eternal realms for the few moments of guardian selection.

In the stillness beyond the Tranquility Gate, Silane’s mana reservoir shone like a beacon, a bright fire that set aglow even the limbs and extremities that ought to hold comparatively less mana than a cultivated core. Hers was not the strongest reservoir that Solarion had witnessed, but it paired well with her conviction before the Tranquility Gate; where inner drive existed, skill would naturally grow. Solarion raced forth and would have offered himself right there and then, had another guardian not intercepted him.

“Do not go,” warned Altaire, who had once mentored Solarion before death severed their ties.

“Elder Altaire, why do you hinder me thus?” Solarion asked.

“Let not appearances cloud your judgment. Once made, a guardian blessing cannot be taken back. This initiate’s ambitions burn strong, but observe the markings on her uniform. She ranks last in her class. You should question why.”

Solarion looked closer—and indeed, in the strange modern script written across the rank token dangling from Silane’s belt, the numbers “60/60” were written. Altaire was right: this student was the lowest-ranked of her class. Yet, instead of traditionally entering the selection last, here Silane emerged as the first of her cohort to successfully pass through the Tranquility Gate. The irregularity intrigued Solarion.

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“Despite such lowly status, this one risks life and limb while her comrades are paralyzed by fear. That is the measure of a hero, better than any class rank. Recall how I myself was ranked first of my class, yet I achieved little of note in life,” Solarion reasoned.

“One cannot measure an eagle’s accomplishments against a worm.” Altaire’s hand slashed through the air, lengthening into the ghost of a blade. “You were the prodigy of the century, peerless among your generation. You defeated the greatest evil of your time, the dread Ytth Korlich. Such achievement is beyond comparison.”

“I cannot turn from our living kin in their time of need. With demonic forces at our doorstep, I refuse to squander my ascension eternally waiting for the perfect candidate. The Tranquility Gate pronounced Silane’s intentions pure. That is sufficient.”

Altaire glanced at the dais for a fraction of a second, unimpressed. “Indeed, her heart is pure. Pure what, I wonder.”

Solarion had never been able to fully comprehend Altaire’s cryptic advice. Nor did he understand it now—but he lacked the time to puzzle over hidden meanings. Another guardian recognized the same vitality that had captured Solarion’s attention. That guardian now appeared before Silane in a fountain of blue-green sparks.

“I, Enciari of Redhaven, would offer my mentorship,” Enciari said in a voice like music. What she lacked in sheer power, she made up for in artful arrangement of color.

Silane squinted into the fluttering light, gaze cutting through rainbows and sparks to focus on the guardian hovering in the center. Impossibly, she turned her face away. “I decline.”

Enciari froze in midair. The sparks around her sputtered out prematurely, and her glowing outline blinked out from the sight of human eyes. On the ethereal plane, her aura shriveled as she retreated. Indignation rippled through the incorporeal mass of observers on her behalf. The air felt thick; many voices murmured in outrage. The ancestors could deny a mortal, as was their divine right, but a mortal refusing a guardian? What initiate had the arrogance to decline, as though to presume oneself worthy of another option?

However, in this instance, another option did exist. Silane’s mortal eyes could not possibly see Solarion, who was still squirming under Altaire’s disapproval, but she seemed to be looking his way—looking straight at Solarion. Their gazes locked for a timeless moment.

“With the greatest respect,” Solarion said, “I know this one is right for me. Forgive my disobedience.”

Solarion dodged around Altaire and revealed himself, golden light tracing the outlines of his spectral form as he floated down to the floor before Silane. He spread his hands and spoke with the warm sincerity that had opened countless doors for him in life.

“Welcome, young hero. I am Solarion of Alta Zhaveir. Your valiant intentions have moved me. I would aid you in your stand against the evils of this world.”

Silane looked at Solarion. It seemed as though her eyes pierced through his golden lightshow into the depths of his very being. For an endless moment, Solarion felt truly seen. Then, Silane’s head turned, gaze sweeping over the fog as if to scour the invisible forms of the other light-specters looking on in disdain. If she noticed their sour auras, she made no sign of it. She refocused on Solarion, the singular bright point in a plane of shifting fog. Her face was placid and serene in the manner of one well-versed in the discipline of the Order, yet Solarion could sense her interest. His golden corona flared brighter at the attention.

“Yes.” Silane knelt before him and raised her right hand, palm up in ritual greeting. “I, Silane of Lumivale, accept this blessing.” Her voice was bold, her resolve crystal clear.

Solarion raised an intangible hand to clasp the offered wrist. His fingers phased through ceremonial armor and cloth, meeting resistance only at the intense pulse of mana contained within blood and flesh. Threads of light traced a golden spiral around both of their arms, symbolizing the sun for which Solarion had long ago been named. After the golden light faded, the sacred contract between paladin and guardian lingered upon Silane’s forearm, indelibly impressed into living skin. Mana rushed through Solarion from the site of his new-formed blessing, anchoring his incorporeal form to the mortal plane.

“It is done. Before ancestral witness, in honor of our guiding light: arise, Silane, paladin of Lumivale. I will be your guardian until you die.” Solarion beamed. After an eternity of patience, here was everything that he desired: a worthy hero to call his own, new purpose as a guardian, and the chance to defend humanity once again. He would teach her all that he knew, and in her, his legacy would live on. “Together, we shall bring great change to the world.”

Silane stood. As her face split from affected serenity into a true smile, her dark pupils dilated to the fullest, swallowing up Solarion’s reflection in bottomless black.

“I look forward to it.”