The Formation of Guardians
Only two days remained before the Theoms Tournament. Saint Athepia granted its students a short vacation, and Atta returned home through a glowing portal that linked the Angel and Human kingdoms.
The shimmering light faded, and he stepped onto the palace grounds. Guards at the gate bowed deeply before swinging open the great doors. Atta gave a quiet nod and entered.
Inside, two servants approached with practiced grace—one taking his coat, the other his bag and shoes. Atta walked through the marble halls, the sound of his footsteps echoing softly. Courtiers and attendants he passed all bowed respectfully.
Atta's thoughts flickered. After all that "commoner" drama at the academy… being treated like this feels strange.
At last, he entered his quarters. The vast room greeted him with velvet curtains, tall windows, and his familiar bed. He sat on the edge, then leaned back into the sheets, exhaling. I missed this…
---
A knock sounded.
"Come in," Atta said.
The door opened, and Princess Fiza stepped inside.
Atta sat up, smiling warmly as he patted the space beside him. She returned his smile, ruffling his hair before sitting.
"Welcome back, Atta," she said softly.
"How are you, sister?"
"I'm fine. But tell me—how was life as a commoner in Saint Athepia?"
Atta chuckled, leaning back again. "Quite an experience. I didn't realize nobles hated commoners so much."
Fiza's smile faltered. She placed a gentle hand on his cheek. "Did someone bully you?"
Atta covered her hand with his own and smiled faintly. "It doesn't matter. I should learn to take care of myself."
Her expression softened with pride. "You're becoming mature, little brother. But remember this—you'll always be my little brother. If anything happens, tell me."
Atta chuckled. "Of course. You're my lifeline when I'm in danger."
Fiza leaned back, but her tone turned serious. "So… has Azeon spoken to you again?"
Atta's smile faltered. I can't tell her I saw him… or that he warned me about his family. Forcing a casual breath, he replied, "No, sister. Not yet. If it happens, I'll tell you."
Fiza studied him but let it go. "Good. Now, there's something new I must tell you. While you were at Saint Athepia, the four kingdoms formed a new security force."
Atta straightened. "Oh? What kind?"
"Guardians," she explained. "Eight mages in total—two from each kingdom."
"For what purpose?"
Her voice lowered. "Because, Atta… we are not alone. Beyond our allied four kingdoms, there are nearly twenty others. If they ever turn hostile, the Guardians will be our first line of defense."
Atta frowned. White mana cores… the purest and strongest. Black is weakest, and the lighter the color, the greater the magic.
"So, who represents us?" he asked.
Fiza smiled faintly. "There are six humans with white mana cores. Father, Izza, and I are among them—but as royalty, we cannot be Guardians. So we chose two from the noble houses."
"And who are they?"
"Luke Blackwood—an Earth mage. And Charlotte Devon, wielder of Slashing magic."
Atta froze. "Charlotte Devon?"
Fiza's smile grew. "Yes. The same Charlotte you grew up with. Your childhood friend."
Atta sat stunned for a moment before managing, "That's… unexpected."
Fiza ruffled his hair again. "Rest now. You've had a long journey." She rose and left quietly.
---
The next evening, the royal family gathered for dinner. King Rauf sat at the head of the table, with Fiza and Izza on either side. Atta broke the silence.
"Father, why did you choose Charlotte as Guardian? She's my friend. It's dangerous."
All eyes turned to him. Rauf sighed heavily.
"Atta," he said, voice cold and commanding, "Charlotte Devon is not just your friend. She is my subject. It is my decision as king, not yours as prince. You are still young. Do not question your elders."
Atta leaned back, heat rising in his chest. "I'm also a prince of this kingdom. I have authority too. I'm only asking—did Charlotte agree to this?"
Rauf set down his fork with a sharp clink. "Of course she did. But remember, you are a prince only because you are my son. As my son, you will speak with respect."
Atta lowered his gaze. His voice softened. "Forgive me, Father. I let my emotions cloud my judgment. It won't happen again."
Rauf resumed eating.
Fiza spoke next, breaking the tension. "Atta, you haven't seen Charlotte in seven years. Do you think she's still the same girl you remember?"
Without hesitation, Atta replied, "Yes. She's one of the kindest people I've ever known. I hope she hasn't changed."
Fiza smiled knowingly.
But Izza, looking worried, asked gently, "Atta, the Theoms Tournament begins tomorrow. Are you certain you want to participate? You could get hurt."
Atta lifted his head and smiled. "Don't worry, sister. I'll be fine. Wish me luck."
Both sisters smiled warmly.
Then, as Atta lowered his gaze to his plate, he murmured, "After the tournament… I want to meet Charlotte again."
Fiza and Izza exchanged a glance, then leaned in together, their voices teasing in unison:
"Aww, our little brother is missing his childhood friend. How cute."
Atta groaned, facepalming. "I have Theoms to focus on!"
The sisters only laughed.
---
To Be Continued