Vanguard Legacy: Reflected

ELORA

Aaron’s iron fist pounded against my ribcage. Tongues of pain flickered through my lungs and I clenched my jaw—I would not give in to the wail of pain that struggled to be heard. I jabbed hard, aiming for his left kidney, whilst my dropped elbow shielded my enraged ribs. Aaron spun fast, striking out again before I could make contact. I dodged, turning lightly on my feet despite the tearing sensation in my abdomen.

As I whirled around him, I caught Aaron’s eyes. They were bright, alive—he reveled in the fight, the battle. I cocked my arm back. I needed to make him less happy.

My elbow connected with the base of his spine, and he doubled over, winded. I allowed myself a small, satisfied smile, but it lasted only a moment before he spun around, faster than I could respond, and thrust the heel of his hand into my ribcage. I collapsed to the ground, praying for an adrenaline surge to drown the searing heat that settled over my partially healed knife wound.

You know, I can’t remember the last time I took you down, he gloated, staring down at me. More than a little irritated by his smugness, I let frustration overwhelm my judgement. So, I cheated. I slipped into his mind and read his next move. Before he could lunge for me again, I rolled and twisted, sweeping his legs out from underneath him with my shins. He landed on his back—hard. Hastily, I struggled to my feet and stepped back, putting more distance between the pair of us.

"Was there ever a first time?" I asked, tenderly prodding my stomach and left side whilst maintaining my footwork. Aaron shook his head, smiling again as he flipped himself onto his feet. Considering his size, he moved quickly and there was no opportunity for me to find a defensive position before he was there, his fists and feet within easy striking distance. He swung from the left. I shifted my weight to my other foot, desperate to avoid the blow.

I was woefully slow.

His fist connected with the side of my head, and I stumbled. Black stars glittered in my peripheral vision. My stomach roiled as I struggled to find my balance. I tried to shake it off, to find a safe space, but Aaron grabbed me. Hands tight on my upper arms, he lifted me, and slammed me hard into the ground. The air in my lungs escaped with a groan.

Glancing up at Aaron, I saw concern wash over his features, his arrogance and teasing gone. He extended a hand to help me to my feet, and I sucked in a shallow breath. I reached again for the bandaged wound that crossed my stomach and left side. Gingerly peeling back my shirt for a quick examination, I shook my head. Ugh. What a mess.

On the Spirits, Elora, why are you even here? Aaron’s voice was calm, but his eyes conveyed a storm of emotions. It’s too soon. Surely they could have given you more time to recover.

I didn’t want it, I muttered, trying to resituate the reddened gauze and tape.

I looked up and caught his glare. I had to be here; I had to train. I couldn’t let up for a moment. Somewhere out in the world, my father and sister hunted me. Maybe even Zak—probably Zak.

Aaron nodded his understanding.

Frustrated, I dragged my hands over my face and rubbed my eyes. I had allowed him to distract me from my mission once before, given him my heart and my head. Never again would I allow anyone to fool me like that. I peered down as the tape lifted up once again, exposing the stitches, and I let out a resigned sigh.

I suppose I’d better get a medical pass.

I’ll come with you, Aaron said, hefting his gear and mine. I shook my head and grabbed my own bag.

I’ll be fine, I told him. I don’t need a babysitter or a nursemaid. A few new stitches and I’ll be ready to go. Aaron looked like he might argue with me but then thought better of it.

I’ll call by on my way back to my dorm room, just to say hi, I reassured him. I looked into his eyes and was reminded of the boy I once knew, the boy who was now a man. I squeezed his hand firmly—a silent gesture of thanks—and made my way to the door of the gymnasium.

Vanguard Allen, who was leading tonight’s hand-to-hand combat, acknowledged me as I approached. Ma’am, I need a medical pass, please. I gestured to the blood and went to move past her.

Wait there, recruit. I just need to arrange an escort for you.

I managed not to roll my eyes, or punch her, and drew a calming breath. I’ll be okay, ma’am. No need to waste anyone else’s time.

I have my orders, recruit.

The discussion was closed. Who had placed those orders? Vanguard Superior McCann? My mother, Nina? Perhaps Principal Hashkin? I didn’t see the point to it, really. After all, I had only left the compound, without much qualified backup, saved a village from destruction, and fought off the bad guys—who just happened to be my father and sister. So, it really made sense that I would need a bodyguard to cross the courtyard of our magically protected, heavily defended training camp.

Ma’am? I can escort Recruit Walker, if you’d allow me? Aaron stepped up behind me. Always my knight in shining armour, ready and willing to rescue me even when I didn’t need it. He must have watched the conversation, maybe even overheard it from his position at the back of the gym. Vanguard hearing—nothing was private.

That will have to do, as it appears her condition is worsening, answered Vanguard Allen, her eyes glancing over me worriedly. Send word when you arrive safely. Dismissed. She returned her attention to the rest of the recruits, and Aaron swung my bag and his up onto his shoulder. He slipped his other arm around my waist.

You really do look dreadful, he muttered in my ear. I bit back a tart reply and allowed him to guide me through the doorway. Whether from training, the blood loss, or the fact that I had barely slept in the week since we had returned from Havenswell, I truly didn’t feel well at all.

Outside, I gazed up into the dark sky and allowed myself a moment of peace, just a moment. The air was cool, the stars bright, and the night deathly quiet. I wanted to remember what life was like a year ago, when things had been simpler. When I was still a child. When I still hated my mother and she still tolerated me. When the lies were still hidden and the truth didn’t hurt every day. My eyes began to tear up, and I blinked furiously. Aaron’s voice cut through my reverie.

It’s too much too soon, Elora.

I can’t stay in my room and stare at the walls. I’ll go crazy.

But after everything that happened, with Diana and . . . His voice trailed off, but I knew who he meant. And Zak. My ex-boyfriend and my enemy.

"It’s happened, and I can’t change the past. I can do something about the future, though." Silence surrounded us again as we made our way towards the medical ward. Nothing much had changed at Nikolai since our return. Sure, we had won the battle, but we had also suffered great losses. The compound was in mourning. And yet, training and classes continued as rigorously as before, and I refused to be left behind.

We entered the medical wing of the compound to find Matthew already there, wringing his hands and wearing a pathway across the small waiting area rug.

You’re all right! he exclaimed and wrapped me in a light hug.

Why wouldn’t I be? I winced, and he drew back as though he could feel my pain. How did he know we were coming?

You cried out; I heard it.

Matthew tapped his temple, and I closed my eyes for a moment. "I’m sorry. I have no idea why that happened. I wasn’t linked to anyone. I’ve been trying to keep all that switched off."

He watched me for a moment, his white hair flickering and twisting impatiently. Well, you shouldn’t. And I don’t know if anyone else heard it, or whether it was just me. Sometimes, I think there’s this connection between us now that doesn’t break. Maybe it’s because of the magic from when you were born, or maybe from Havenswell. All that matters is that you’re going to be okay. He greeted Aaron, who had placed our kit bags on the floor.

I’ll go get some help, Aaron said quietly.

Thank you, I said, slumping into the nearest chair as he left.

Is he okay? Matthew asked, nodding in Aaron’s direction.

I think so. We were sparring when this happened. I gestured to the weeping wound. Probably blames himself. You know what he’s like.

Matthew laughed a little and plopped down into the plastic chair next to mine. We both know that there are probably other reasons for his worry.

I shook my head. No, it’s just brotherly guilt. He beat up on his little sister.

Are you sure? Seems to me he’s never going to be truly over you. You don’t think that he might still be in love with you? Not even just a little?

No! I exclaimed, shocked. Of course not. Aaron’s in love with Teya now, I’m sure he sees me just as I do him. We’re family, always will be.

Matthew was quite for a moment, his brow creased in thought.

We’ll get through this, you know, he said eventually. All of us. Together.

 I nodded in agreement, but inside, I had no idea how that could happen. Nothing had changed. We were still in trouble. Everything was just on hold.

~*~

I noted that the new stitches in my side were tighter than before as I studied my reflection in the mirror, and also uncomfortable underneath my dress uniform. Black skirt—a change from the combat-style trousers I wore every day—and black blouse, with a blazer to finish off the ensemble. The black was overwhelming. Regardless of how often I covered myself in it, it still felt like my prison rather than my armour. I straightened the sleeves of my blazer, and the sprinkling of silver marks on my left cuff caught my attention.

I knew that when we killed or captured a Dark Seeker—our mortal enemies—our uniforms were marked. It was a magical thing; I had barely thought about it. The marks had appeared on my training uniform less than a day after our return to the compound. It was stupid to be surprised that they adorned my dress uniform as well. I ran my fingers over them. During the battle, I captured no one, and was painfully aware that each silver line represented a life that I had taken.

My heart weighed heavily in my chest as my thoughts settled within it. It was part of the mission, but still nothing I would ever get used to. Today, the danger of our work would hit home more than usual. Though I swallowed back tears until each breath made my throat sore, I didn’t cry—I wasn’t that kind of person. My mother had made sure of that. The past few days had been different, though, barely one passing without the taste of saltwater on my lips.

I began to brush my hair, but the stitches pulled at the ragged edges of my skin even as they tried to help it heal. I threw the brush down in frustration.

How could I do this? How could I get through today?

Elora, can I come in? Teya’s feather-light voice drifted through the door.

Of course, I replied, relieved. Teya’s pale, willowy figure slipped through the door. She wore a fitted, deep-purple velvet ensemble, and her dark hair was twisted up in an intricate chignon. She moved soundlessly forward and hugged me gently.

Can I help? She lifted the brush and began to tame my hair into the regulation ponytail before I could protest.

Thank you.

Anytime.

Silence fell about us for a moment as she tied a ribbon over the band in my hair. I watched her movements in the mirror, rhythmic and calming.

Tell me, how can I do this? My voice broke as I spoke.

She was silent for a while longer before she answered me. The same way we always do, she replied eventually. Together.

She stood and took my hand, looped it through her arm, and led the way out of my room.

~*~

The field which usually served as a training ground and dispatch area had been transformed. Junior and senior recruits lined up alongside their pinned Vanguard compatriots. Bleachers had been erected behind the makeshift parade ground and were now filled with the vampiric forensic teams and recruits. They sat in the shade of the trees which surrounded the field.

Teya had left me as soon as we reached the field’s perimeter to shelter there with her classmates. The sun was watery, not strong enough to cause any long lasting damage if the duration of time was short, but it was still uncomfortable to the sensitive-skinned race. I looked for her, pushing my eyesight as I had been trained, and found her seated far at the back. She had separated herself from the others, her grief more palpable than theirs.

The Magicae, seated farther forward, enjoyed the sun, each dressed in dazzling white robes. The brilliant light meant that they glowed almost ethereally, their white hair twisting and flickering en masse. I found Matthew almost instantly, as though drawn to him. He sat with his trinity, the other Magicae who were training him, and they spoke quietly amongst themselves. They had been on the front lines of the battle, their magic used to defend and attack. They would have acutely felt each death that took place whilst they were present. I looked away. It wasn’t right to intrude on their mourning.

Finally, the Sisters of the Spirit gathered towards the very front of the bleachers. It was strange to see them outside the Sanctuary, particularly as events like this usually took place within their sacred walls. This time, the situation warranted a bigger space.

No doubt people would seek them out later, still in need of their counsel and spiritual guidance. My eyes flitted over the Sisters, but I couldn’t make out Anna. They all wore their traditional violet robes, and their hoods shaded their faces. They were a streak of colour in what was a very black and white world.

Soft murmurings filled the air as I walked into the parade ground and found my own place. Cautious stares followed me from watchful eyes, but I held my head high. I had done nothing to be ashamed of. True, I had been tricked by our enemies, but they had not gotten away unscathed. Perhaps it was the lingering threat of what my father and sister might do that caused their unease? It certainly caused mine.

As though some invisible signal had been given, all sound around us faded away, and our attention was drawn towards the Succession Arch. I took a moment to read the inscription: Noster virtus et sapientia eorum custodium erit. Our strength and wisdom will forever be their protection. Our mission, the purpose for our being, resonated deep within me.

Though usually the setting for simpler and efficient events—such as the pinning ceremony— the arch was overwhelmed by too many wooden caskets, each one as plain as the next. They were laid out in rows in front of the small, brick building. Simple silver ribbons were draped across the breadth of each casket—save one. This one was different, unique, and the black ribbon that lay over the surface denoted only one thing.

The person within was not pinned, they had still been a recruit when they had died.

Diana.

Images of Diana’s face filled my mind, and I clenched my fists, fighting back the urge to bury my face in my hands. I saw myself through her eyes as I saw her through my own, one of the many curses of my gift. As the blade from the Dark Seeker had sliced through her body, and had driven out her soul and ended her life, so had it taken a small part of me with it.

Diana was dead because of me.

Principal Hashkin stepped up to the front of the gathered masses and lifted his hands to draw our eyes to him. My mother and several other senior Vanguards stood beside him in dress uniform.

Their faces all wore the same stoic expression. I knew they must feel something, but they were doing an impressive job of hiding it. Behind them, the sky flared orange and lilac as the dying sun gave its own farewell. Hashkin stood mostly in the shadows now, protecting himself from the sun just as Teya had done.

Today, we celebrate the lives given for our cause. We pass their bodies from life into death, as the sunset draws the day into night. Hashkin’s voice was calm, considered, heavy. I couldn’t focus on his words, though, only on the wooden boxes behind him containing our dead.

Angry, guilt-ridden thoughts churned within my mind as I gazed at each casket. These men and women, these Vanguards, had given their lives because of me. All for a stupid prophecy that may or may not even happen. An ocean of grief washed over me and drowned my heavy heart. It took several moments to notice that everything had gone silent. People looked at me expectantly.

I glanced up to the podium and saw that McCann, my commanding officer and the most senior Vanguard at the Nikolai Compound, now stood in Hashkin’s place.

Elora? Would you join me? It was clear he had asked this question before and I felt the anger give way to panic. I nodded somewhat reluctantly and made my way through a dozen or so rows of recruits. When I reached him, he smiled gently and gestured for me to stand alongside him.

It is only because of the bravery of our newest recruits, because of their selflessness and their gifts, that so few were lost. However, one of Recruit Walker’s training quadmates was lost to us. Diana was strong, courageous, and thoughtful. But above all of this, she understood her duty and her mission. The decision has been made today, by myself and the Vanguard Senior Council, to posthumously award this recruit with her pin.

McCann paused as I processed the information, and tears filled my eyes yet again. Diana had been so afraid that she wouldn’t be good enough, that she wouldn’t be what everyone needed her to be. The pin would have meant everything to her.

Elora Walker. You led Diana into battle. You commanded her duty and respect, and ultimately witnessed her sacrifice. It seems fitting that you should be a part of this. Would you do us the honour of redressing Diana’s casket?

McCann held out a silver band of cloth. I took the slip of fabric, fingered it gently, and walked to Diana’s casket. Removing the black silk, I then carefully laid out the silver in its place. I rested my hand on the surface of the wood, cool against my palm, and offered a silent prayer to the Spirits.

As I turned, I saw McCann had handed a velvet box to a couple who sat off to the side of the crowds. Diana’s parents, her father’s injury painfully clear. Her mother’s tears flowed freely, though her father’s face was shadowed and dry-eyed. I looked away, certain that if I were to watch I would lose what little self-control I clung to. I made my way back to my ranks and took my place.

~*~

It was cold—not bitterly so, but enough that I had to wrap my arms around my chest to try and keep warm as I huddled on the stone steps of the arch. I had hoped my mother might come to find me, see how I was doing, but I had heard nothing from her. Our relationship may have improved, yet we were both still learning our new roles.

There you are! Matthew, Teya, and Aaron joined me on the stone steps.

Here I am, I said sadly. Aaron sat to my left with Teya at his side, his arm around her waist possessively. Matthew, who sat on the right, rubbed his fingers together for a moment. With a small pop, a warm fire appeared a few feet from us.

Thank you, I said humourlessly.

No worries, he shrugged. "Well, not no worries, but— he paused uncomfortably. You know what I mean." He looked away, embarrassed, but I wrapped my hand over his in appreciation. We sat there for a while and watched the flames dance as they warmed our faces.

It’s all my fault, and there’s nothing I can do about it. The words spilled out before I could stop them, and they filled the air around us with a thick, heavy despair.

It is not your fault. What do you think you could have done to prevent this? Aaron’s voice was patient but tinged with something—annoyance? Maybe.

I could have gone alone. I could have not gone at all. I should have seen that Zak was lying to me, that he had betrayed me . . . us.

We all should have, Teya breathed. I saw him drinking that blue stuff. It must have been what kept the dark magic caste strong enough to hide his nature. I should have understood what that meant.

"I was in his head, Teya. In his head! How can I ever trust myself to make the right judgements again? I paused as a realisation hit me. I need to shut off the Internal Sight permanently somehow, need to be normal again. If I can turn it off, I can’t be tempted to use it."

You can’t do that, Elora, Matthew warned. You have your gifts because we need you to. You have to be your twin sister’s counterpart. You can’t just turn part of yourself off. It’s like handing them the victory. You have to be you, all of you, even the frightening bits that leave you feeling like this.

What if I can’t? It’s terrifying! I’m not sure I can live like this.

You have to, Elora. The finality in Aaron’s voice silenced us all. He watched me for a moment, and I finally nodded to keep the peace. Inside, frenzied disquiet began to give way to frustrated confusion. My attention turned to the horizon. As we sat and waited for the sunrise, I thought about what Aaron had said. My friends had such faith in me, but could I live up to their expectations?

Recruit Walker? The Vanguard looked uncomfortable as he approached, obviously remiss about disturbing us as we mourned the loss of our friend. I had no idea how long we had sat out, though the sky was barely light.

Yes, sir?

I’m very sorry, but Vanguard Walker has requested you meet with her. She said I might find you here.

I was aware, as my friends were, that we were breaking curfew. But really, it felt like such an inconsequential rule at that moment. Of course. Is she at the dispatch centre?

No, recruit, she’s at home.

I rose to follow him, expecting him to accompany me right to the door, per the new rules. My friends said nothing as I left them. Perhaps if I had opened my mind I would have heard kind words, or thoughts, but I kept the gates closed.

Once we arrived, I knocked on the door and stepped inside without waiting for a reply. My mother sat in an armchair, watching the flames of her fire burn in the hearth.

Elora, you came.

Of course, Mom. Are you okay?

She let out a slight laugh and looked up. The breath was sucked from me as I met her gaze. Her dark, empty eyes almost looked through me, and I questioned if my mother was even in there. She rubbed her face wearily with her hands and stood up. She embraced me, drawing me close.

I should be asking you that, after everything you’ve been through. How’re the stitches? She paused, and I looked at her quizzically. Vanguard Allen may have mentioned something about you struggling, just in passing.

I shrugged. My physical pain meant nothing compared to the losses we all dealt with. I drew her over to the sofa and sat with her.

Mom, please don’t take this the wrong way, but you look dreadful. My mother was always such a put-together woman; nothing fazed her. This disheveled, broken woman was a new creature.

It’s been a long week with funeral arrangements and worrying about your health and, well, everything. I guess I haven’t really slept very well.

Me, neither. Some of the people we buried today were good friends of yours, weren’t they? I am sorry for your loss.

She nodded slowly before reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair back into my ponytail. It reminded me of the day we left Havenswell to come to the compound; it seemed so long ago, but had only been a few months.

Elora, promise me you’ll be careful. I didn’t want to say this—didn’t want you to think I was interfering—but with your gift, I know you can reach out to anyone you want. Don’t go after him. Don’t forget what he did to you, because that will fuel the fire within you, but don’t get wrapped up in him again. He’s not who you thought he was.

Don’t worry. Zak is a distant memory, I spat through gritted teeth.

What? No, not him. He’s just a child. I meant your father. He’s not the hero I wanted you to believe him to be. I don’t want you to chase him.

David was never my father, and I won’t be chasing him. He’ll come for me eventually, and we’ll face that when we have to. But for now . . .

"Now, nothing. Focus on your training. You are such an incredible recruit, and you will be a powerful Vanguard. Let us handle your father." My mother began to lose focus. She dropped my hands, returned to the armchair, and lifted a brass poker to stoke the embers of the fire. She was still then, quiet, as she stared into the flames.

I remember, she said. When you were very small, you would sit under the tree in our backyard and tell stories to your stuffed bear. You were so passionate about it, intense voices and arm gestures. Each story was different; never the same characters or places. I marveled at your imagination, at the power of your mind. But it made me afraid for you. It made me wonder if you might have the gifts that I had seen before. I knew then, before you were even old enough to show the world, that it would be a dangerous place for you. I tried to smother your creativity then, do you remember?

She glanced over at me and I just shook my head, captivated by her memory. As she recalled it, I could see it in her head. Seeing myself as a small child felt comforting, but I could sense my mother’s anxiety—her fear for me.

I told you story-telling was for babies, playing with stuffed animals was ridiculous. I know I hurt you, I saw it in your eyes then, just as I see it now. Can you try to understand how I desperately wanted to protect you from the monsters I had created? I guess it was all for nothing. Everything I did and said to keep you safe just made everything so much worse. I’m sorry, Elora. I’m sorry I did that to you.

Each word my mother spoke squeezed at my heart just a little more. Memories flared in my mind. I remembered telling those stories, and I remembered the night she snatched the toy away and threw it into the bin. I relived all the times that she had let me down and hurt me.

Mom, it’s in the past, I said. You did what you thought was right. I forgive you. Moments passed before she spoke again, but it touched my heart in a way I’d never felt before, in a way that changed my role from child to adult, from daughter to peer.

Thank you.

ZAK

Zakariah, how much longer are you going to sit there like that? Siva said derisively from behind me, meaning to rile me, no doubt.

Determined not to give her the satisfaction, I studiously ignored her. With my chin at rest on my steepled fingers, I stared into the flames of the fire. The dank, brick room was only mildly more acceptable with a fire burning. But that wasn’t the reason I had lit it, even though it was cold enough. It was the light I craved. I wanted to stare at something bright and hot. Above that, I hoped to burn any remnants of Elora out of my eyes and my mind for good. I wanted to make this interminable pain end.

Zak, Siva murmured softly. Was she trying to convince me she actually cared? She had come up behind me as I sat in the tatty armchair. She traced her fingers across the back of my neck, and each little hair rose up and quivered hotly. Just being near her made me feel murderous. It was all her fault, and David’s. You cannot continue to mope. There’s work to be done.

Work? What could we possibly have to do? Aren’t we just waiting for the end to come? I shook my head at her stupidity.

There are many things to be done. If you weren’t so distracted, perhaps you would have noticed them. Striving for my attention, Siva slithered onto my lap and wrapped her arms about my neck. Still, I averted my eyes until she grabbed my wrists angrily and pulled my hands from beneath my chin.

Why can’t you simply forget her and move on? She’s nothing to you. You’re not even the same species anymore.