Arrival of the Guardians
Just when the Riftbeast reared back for another blast of flame, the sky itself seemed to split.
A streak of blinding blue light slashed downward from the heavens, striking the beast's flank with a thunderous crack. The Riftbeast howled in pain, stumbling sideways as its armored hide sizzled with raw energy.
"Stand clear!" a voice boomed from above.
Figures descended like comets. Armored warriors clad in gleaming Guardian insignias landed between the beast and the villagers. Their capes whipped in the smoke, their weapons glowing with impossible power.
Ryven's breath caught. He had seen Guardians in books, in broadcasts… but never in person. They radiated presence, every movement heavy with discipline, their eyes sharp as blades.
"That's… that's them," Ryven whispered, voice trembling. "The Galaxy's Guardians…"
Nova said nothing, her gaze fixed on the spectacle.
---
The Battle Reclaimed
The Riftbeast roared and lunged again, but this time the Guardians moved like a storm.
One raised a colossal shield, absorbing the beast's claws in a blaze of golden sparks. Another leapt high, his halberd glowing with white-hot energy, slicing down into the creature's shoulder with a crack that split the air.
A third Guardian extended her palm, releasing a spiral of crystalline energy that wrapped around the beast's legs, freezing them in place.
The Riftbeast thrashed violently, flames spilling from its maw, but the Guardians pressed forward in perfect formation. Each strike was deliberate, each move synchronized.
So this is their power… Ryven thought, awe coursing through him. This is what it means to protect the galaxy.
---
Ryven's Frustration
Yet, as he watched, his awe soured.
The villagers cheered, crying with relief. But Ryven's hands balled into fists.
He remembered the child's terrified face, the suffocating heat, the helplessness in his own body. While the Guardians moved like gods, he and Nova had been barely surviving.
The realization burned worse than the flames around him.
I was useless. I couldn't stop it. Not really.
His chest tightened, not from smoke but from the sharp edge of frustration.
---
The Killing Blow
With one last coordinated strike, the Guardians overwhelmed the Riftbeast.
The halberd-wielder pierced its chest. A surge of white energy exploded outward, searing through the monster's veins. Its roar faded into a strangled cry as its body convulsed, then collapsed with a ground-shaking thud.
The beast's armor cracked, glowing veins dimmed, and finally—silence.
Smoke curled from its corpse, glowing embers scattered across the square. The Guardians stood firm, weapons still raised, until their leader lowered his hand.
"It's finished," he declared.
---
The Aftermath
Villagers poured from shelters, cheering, crying, rushing to thank their saviors. Guardians helped them douse flames, healed wounds with shimmering light, and lifted debris to free the trapped.
But Ryven barely heard any of it. He stared at the Riftbeast's corpse, the scent of smoke in his nose, the tremble still in his arms from when he had tried to block its claw.
Nova nudged him lightly. "You okay?"
He swallowed. "Yeah… I just… I thought I was ready. I thought training would be enough."
Her eyes softened. "You protected that kid. You didn't freeze. That matters."
Ryven looked down at his shaking hands. "But I couldn't win. Not even close."
---
A Glimpse of Recognition
As if hearing him, one of the Guardians—an older warrior with scars running down his cheek—paused. His eyes fell on Ryven, studying him. For a long moment, their gazes locked.
Ryven felt exposed, as if the Guardian could see every thought, every doubt raging inside him. Then, almost imperceptibly, the man nodded.
It was brief. Simple. But it sent a spark through Ryven's chest.
That night, the village gathered around fires, patching homes, comforting children. The Riftbeast's corpse had been dragged away, leaving only a scar in the earth.
Ryven lay on his back outside his small home, staring at the endless night sky. Stars burned like distant embers, countless worlds twinkling just out of reach.
His grip tightened around his staff.
"One day…" he whispered to himself. "One day, I'll stand like them. Strong enough to protect everyone. Strong enough to never feel this helpless again."
From the shadows, Nova sat cross-legged, sharpening her blades. She smirked faintly. "You'd better. Because I'm not planning to babysit you forever."
They shared a laugh, quiet but genuine, their voices rising above the distant hum of the recovering village.
And far above, unseen in the night sky, a fracture shimmered faintly. A crack in the fabric of space. Growing.
---
The Quiet After Chaos
The night air was heavy with smoke and silence. The Riftbeast's corpse had been dragged away by the Guardians to study, but its stench lingered—burnt flesh, scorched metal, ash soaked into the soil.
The villagers sat around makeshift fires, faces lit by the orange glow, exhaustion written in every crease. Children clung to their parents, wide-eyed, unable to sleep. Healers moved among them, using fragments of glowing crystals to mend wounds.
Ryven sat apart from the crowd, on a half-broken stone wall, his knees drawn up, chin resting on them. His eyes never left the flames.
Nova approached with two bowls of broth, the aroma thin but comforting. She handed one to him, then sat beside him.
"You look like you're trying to burn a hole through the fire," she said softly.
Ryven gave a hollow chuckle. "Feels like it burned through me instead."
---
Conversations by Firelight
They ate in silence for a while, the distant crackle of flames and murmur of villagers filling the air. Finally, Nova set her bowl down.
"You know," she said, leaning back on her hands, "most people would have frozen today. You didn't."
"I didn't win either," Ryven muttered. "All I did was swing a stick and nearly get crushed."
"You kept that thing off the kid long enough for me to drag him out. That's not nothing."
Ryven stared at his broth, then set it aside. "But compared to them…" He glanced toward the Guardians, their silhouettes visible in the distance as they spoke with the village elder. "We're nothing. They… they didn't even break a sweat."
Nova shrugged. "So? Then we train. Then we fight harder. You've always said you'd be a Guardian one day. Days like this prove why."
Her voice was firm, steady, the kind of voice that refused to let him drown in doubt. Ryven felt a small, reluctant smile tug at his lips.
"You always know how to slap sense into me without slapping me."
Nova smirked. "Don't tempt me. I'll use my blades next time."
---
The Guardian's Gift
Their laughter faded when heavy footsteps approached.
The scarred Guardian who had locked eyes with Ryven earlier now stood before them. His armor was scarred from countless battles, his gaze sharp yet not unkind.
"You two," he said, his voice gravelly but calm.
Ryven scrambled to his feet, nearly tripping over the stone wall. Nova stood smoothly, bowing slightly.
The Guardian studied them, silent long enough for Ryven's throat to go dry. Then he reached into a small pouch at his side and pulled something out.
A small, translucent shard glimmered in his palm, faintly glowing in the firelight.
"This," the Guardian said, "is residue from a Riftbeast core. Dangerous if mishandled… but sometimes, fragments like these contain power. Not much, but enough to push one's spirit, sharpen the will."
He extended his hand, offering it to Ryven.
Ryven blinked, stunned. "You're… giving this to me?"
"You stood against the beast," the Guardian said simply. "Reckless, yes. Foolish, perhaps. But there was courage in your strike. Even courage has weight in battle."
Ryven hesitated, then slowly reached out and accepted the shard. It was warm, pulsing faintly, almost like a heartbeat in his palm.
The Guardian's eyes narrowed slightly. "Be warned. Power changes people. Sometimes for the better. Often for the worse. Learn to master yourself first—then the power will follow."
With that, he turned and walked back into the shadows, leaving Ryven and Nova staring at the glowing fragment.
Nova leaned closer, eyes fixed on the shard. "It's like… alive."
Ryven nodded, mesmerized. He felt its warmth seep into his fingers, into his chest. It wasn't overwhelming, but it stirred something deep inside him, something restless, something hungry.
He clenched his fist around it.
"I'll master it," he whispered to himself. "No matter what it takes."
Nova crossed her arms. "You'd better. Because if you lose control, I'll be the one dragging you back to your senses."
---
Dream Beneath the Stars
Later that night, when the fires dimmed and the villagers finally rested, Ryven slipped away from the crowd. He climbed a hill just beyond the village, the shard clutched in his hand, and lay on his back beneath the sky.
The stars stretched endlessly above him, scattered diamonds across an infinite sea. Somewhere out there, Guardians fought battles far greater than today's, standing against nightmares that could swallow entire worlds.
And here he was—on a tiny planet, holding a shard that pulsed like a heartbeat.
He raised it toward the stars, the glow reflecting in his eyes.
"One day," he whispered, voice trembling with both fear and determination, "I'll rise beyond this little planet. I'll become the strongest Guardian. Strong enough to protect everyone, strong enough to protect the whole galaxy."
Behind him, Nova approached quietly. She didn't interrupt. She simply sat beside him, hugging her knees, gazing at the same stars.
For a long time, they said nothing, letting the night sky carry their unspoken vows.
And far above, unseen to their eyes, the fracture in space widened, its edges pulsing with dark energy.