Ellendr?a, Midsummer

  A sound like water tumbling over rocks in a small stream brought my mind back to the present as I finished reorganizing the main common room, creating sufficient space for visitors to sit. The sound was being generated by the communication center, located in a corner of the common room, trying to alert me of an incoming call. I walked over to the corner and touched a small, slightly raised square, set at chest height and of a color almost indistinguishable from the background color of the wall. The communication center, designed to look like an inconspicuous blank space on the wall, suddenly resolved into a large screen and a console with various control elements. The screen lit up, showing the face and upper body of the caller. Farrw?n smiled in greeting, his smoky-grey eyes, as always, holding a trace of otherness. Although it was difficult to estimate age based on physical appearance amongst the Ellendrí, it was usually possible to guess how old a person was based on their eyes, speech patterns, and body language. I knew that Farrw?n was only a couple of years older than me, but he always had the gravity and bearing of an Elder.

  Meeting my eyes directly, Farrw?n began his call with “Darí is coming home today.” It was a statement, not a question. Of course, Farrw?n would know. Even if Darí hadn’t communicated his plans telepathically, Farrw?n’s turas would likely have warned him that Darí was going to arrive soon.

  “Yes,” I replied, giving Farrw?n what I hoped was a cheerful smile. I was still determined to keep my mood upbeat, even though my thoughts had been wandering through memories of darker times. “I think he should get here just before sunset, if he has no problems along the way.”

  “He’ll arrive on time.” Farrw?n dropped his eyes and seemed to study something on the floor. I felt a sense of relief. It was good to know that Farrw?n was sure Darí would arrive safely. It was also a relief not to be staring into Farrw?n’s all-to-knowing eyes, and he had clearly sensed this. Even though our friendship was deep, it was still possible to have awkward moments like this. I knew without asking that there was more to Farrw?n’s call than just a confirmation of Darí’s imminent arrival. Affirming my feelings, Farrw?n added, “I think we should meet together tomorrow. There are some things we need to discuss.”

  I arched an eyebrow in question. “Yes?” I probed for some more information.

  Farrw?n shrugged, still looking at the floor. For a moment, he seemed less like an Elder and more like the childhood friend that I remembered. “Gryff?th has been raising controversy again. There’s going to be trouble. There are some things we need to do. Let’s talk about it tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow, then,” I smiled encouragingly at Farrw?n. “Meet us in the orchard. I’ll tell Darí to expect you. I’m sure he will be happy to see you.”

  “I’ll certainly be happy to see him. It’s been awhile,” Farrw?n looked up, and I could see the happiness in his eyes.

  (Legends of the Ellendrí, translated into Terran English)

  As the oldest space-faring people in the Ll’Ellendr?n, and one of the few remaining races directly descended from the Ellendor?a, the Ellendrí felt that it was their duty to promote and protect peace in the interstellar space of this region, thus allowing trade, knowledge-transfer, and travel to occur freely and without danger. To this end, a force of 120 Ellendrí, carefully selected for strong psychic abilities, and trained extensively in mediation, peacekeeping, and a variety of armed and unarmed combat skills, was maintained. Although highly adept at survival, and well capable of defending themselves and protecting those seeking their aid, these Ellendrí were oath-bound to a specific creed: to always pursue the path of nonviolence whenever and wherever possible, to seek peaceful solutions to disputes, and to limit physical conflict to the least amount possible. These elite peacekeepers were known as the Guardians of Peace, and all swore the Guardian’s Oath:

  This I swear:

  I renounce war, and dedicate my life to finding peaceful and nonviolent solutions to conflict.

  I will respect all life, in any of its myriad forms.

  I will not act for personal power or wealth, but only seek wisdom and enlightenment.

  I will respect the limitations of my own knowledge, and will always work to improve myself through study and training.

  My word is my vow, and I will always seek to deliver more than I promise.

  I will believe nothing without evidence, and never arrive at a judgment without hearing all sides of a story.

  I will never initiate force or aggression against another individual or group.

  I will fight only in self-defense, or in defense of another, and only as the last resort.

  My strength is a shield, and I will stand between those bent on violence and those who cannot defend themselves.

  If it is beyond my strength to prevent violent action, still I will not yield, but will do everything within my power to reduce the conflict and minimize the damage so that the least amount of harm is done to the fewest people.

  If I am unable to prevent the outbreak of violence, it is my sworn duty to tend to those who are its victims, the weak and the injured.

  I make these vows solemnly, freely, and upon my honor.

  Guardians were primarily involved in interstellar issues, and had no authority over planetary governments; however, if requested, Guardians served as mediators in planetary disputes. The Guardians were self-regulating, and were not bound politically or legally to any planet in the Ll’Ellendr?n. Ellendr?a provided the funding and resources for the Guardians, but did not demand any allegiance in return.

  While the Ellendrí were highly respected as an elder race, individuals engaging in dispute resolution and other peacekeeping activities far from their home world would still be placing themselves in dangerous situations. For this reason, a special device was designed for the Guardians, which became both their emblem of duty and a means of enhancing their psychic capabilities. Thus, Psi Technicians designed 120 Guardian’s Stars—six-pointed star-shaped pendants. Each Star had at its center a large ferr?l, and at each point, a durr?l. The Star was slightly smaller than the palm of a person’s outstretched hand, with the ferr?l approximately three finger widths in diameter, and each durr?l one finger width in diameter. The body of the Star was a bluish metal, engraved with a star map of the Ll’Ellendr?n as viewed from the hypothetical position of Ellendor?a, with the center position of the map occupied by the ferr?l. Each Star was keyed to an individual Guardian. When a Guardian chose to put aside their duty and return to Ellendr?a, the Star could be rekeyed to a new Guardian, a task that could only be performed by a highly skilled Psi Technician.

  And so it was that the Guardians of Peace were established, the legends of their exploits growing larger with the retellings, and the peoples of the Ll’Ellendr?n flourished in peace for nearly nine thousand years.

  Ellendr?a (between eight and two years earlier)

  I was as proud as I’m sure my athairad would have been, had he still been alive, when Darí was given his Guardian’s Star. He had completed his training in a phenomenally short period of time—only two years since Darriel’s death, under the direct tutelage of Thorven.

  Thorven Seab?n had spent many of his years as a Guardian, having returned to active Guardian duty a number of times throughout his long life. He was an excellent, albeit tough, teacher. Old enough to be an Elder, he was still very active and physically strong. He was tall for an Ellendrí—the tallest I’d known—and broad across the shoulders, fit and densely muscled. His smoky-grey eyes and steel gray hair, gilded with bright gold streaks, marked him as one of the Ellendrí lineages containing a fair amount of Gw?rdrí blood. Some long years ago, he’d been my mentor as well, although with reservations. Darí had done very well under Thorven’s skillful training, showing all the signs of being every bit as good as I was, and probably better.

  Unfortunately, in other matters, things were not going as well as they should. After two years, I had recovered somewhat from Darriel’s death, at least to the point that I could get through a day without thinking about her, and the dark emptiness in my soul where once she’d been, more than a couple of times. Darí, on the other hand, still cried himself into exhaustion most nights. I often stayed with him—sometimes I could comfort him, but other times, he’d just shut me out completely. I’d no idea how he managed to do so well in training when he was still in such emotional pain. He’d become very quiet, dark, driven—it was difficult to carry on much of a conversation with him, unless it was about some technical matter related to the skills he was learning.

  Thinking that I was providing some assistance and support to Darí, I had chosen to remain on Ellendr?a after Darriel’s death. I was assigned by the Guardians to be a Recorder for the Elder Council meetings—not very exciting work, but it kept my mind off other things—and was taught the necessary skills by the Historian’s Guild. Occasionally, I would go off-planet for a few days to provide aid where necessary, but for the most part, I’d become a resident of Ellendr?a. I still wore my Star, tucked inside my shirt, but people got used to seeing me in the yellow-trimmed tunic of a Historian. I suspect that a lot of them didn’t even realize I was still an active Guardian.

  I’ve never been sure exactly why Darí decided to become a Guardian. Originally, I had believed, and hoped, that it was because he wanted to travel with me, to be my companion and my s?athcára. Now, I often wonder if it had something to do with his conversations with Farrw?n.

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  Farrw?n had been a frequent companion to Darí during the two years after Darriel’s death. Farrw?n was gifted with a particularly strong form of turas granting him an almost unerring ability to see the future. None of us really knew the true depth and breadth of his visions, as he seldom spoke about them. But it was pretty clear to those of us who knew him well that his turas was often a burden to him. The question I ask myself now is “What had Farrw?n seen that had compelled Darí to become a Guardian?”

  While Darí was taking his training, K?rr?l, my ?dr?lad, was designing and building a new ship, something much more modern than the old craft that I flew, which had been my athairad’s before me. This new ship was the first of the Guardian’s ships to be armed—something that caused more than a little controversy—in response to the Cultaní raiders that we’d been driving off along the Ll’Ellendr?n borders. I had assumed that Darí and I would leave planet together, and that this new ship was to be a replacement for my old one, which was getting more inclined to unexpected break-downs as the years progressed.

  We had a gathering to celebrate Darí’s new position as a Guardian. There are not many of the F?alen lineage left these days—just the two of us and the family of my athairad-deirfad. Thus, it was a small event with only a few people attending, including some close friends like Farrw?n. Darí almost seemed normal—shyly accepting congratulations, telling a few amusing stories about his apprenticeship, but generally being subdued and calm. He seemed happy enough, so I left him by himself that night, while I sprawled on the bed in my room and fell into a mostly dreamless sleep.

  I’m a relatively light sleeper—many years as a Guardian have trained my body to pay attention to unusual activities around me even when I’m asleep. It was barely dawn when I awoke, hearing Darí get up and rummage around. I quickly pulled a tunic on over my loose trousers, and went out to see what was happening, only to find that he was already heading out of the dome, a few items stowed in a pack, and obviously about to leave. The F?alen, the new ship, had been brought over to our dome the previous night by K?rr?l, and was ready to go.

  “Darí,” I shouted at him as I ran over to the F?alen. “Aren’t you going to wait until I get my gear packed up?”

  Darí kept his back turned to me. “No. Rallandrí has assigned me to Lorril. As far as I know, you are still on assignment here.” Rallandrí, my old friend from previous missions, was now working as the dispatcher for the Guardians. What Darí said was probably true; however, I knew that I could easily get reassigned by simply requesting a posting with Darí. I suppose I should have already done that, but I didn’t think Darí would be so anxious to leave.

  “That’s not a problem—I can get reassigned, if you’ll wait for a little while,” I replied with a bit of a smile—I remembered how excited I was to get underway on my first mission. I wasn’t blaming Darí for his eagerness.

  “No,” Darí finally turned to look at me. His eyes had this terrible sad, almost hopeless expression, and I felt as if my heart was stalling.

  “What do you mean?” I gasped out.

  “I’m going alone,” he said softly. I just stared at him, questions rushing around in my head. For a moment I thought he wasn’t going to say anything else, just leave me to wonder what in all the many universes was going on—my once eloquent deirfad had become a person of few words. However, he saw my look, and I guess he felt obligated to make some sort of explanation. “Dran, I feel so empty without Darriel, and I don’t know if the pain will ever stop. When we’re together, I can’t keep it away from you.” He shook his head, helplessly. “I don’t want to keep hurting you forever with my feelings.” He had tears in his eyes, which told me how much this was hurting him. “It will be better if I go and work with people who can’t feel my pain the way you do.”

  “Don’t you think I’ll still hear you when you’re off on another planet?” I finally managed to force out through my confusion. “Don’t you think our bond won’t still transmit your feelings to me?” I was truly dismayed by his reasoning. “Why are you doing this?”

  “I’m doing it for you,” he turned his face away. I could see tear tracks running down his cheek. “The distance will help attenuate our bond. I’ll be able to block my feelings, at least a little, when we aren’t in contact.” He didn’t say goodbye, or offer to touch me in any way, just turned back to the F?alen, and walked up the ramp. I stood in complete shock while he gently lifted the F?alen off the ground and flew away, leaving me standing alone in the dry, blowing dust of my dying homeland. My heart suddenly felt dead and dry too, as if it were echoing the planet’s death. I don’t remember much of the rest of that day, except that I found an old tree in the family orchard and beat on it until my knuckles were skinned and bleeding, finally sliding down into the damp grass at its base, sobbing until long after the sun went down.

  **********

  I tried. I really did try. I’m not one to give up, or at least I wasn’t, then. Farrw?n, in his usual cryptic way, assured me that eventually Darí would heal, that when he could finally see past his pain, he would remember that I still existed. Of course, Farrw?n didn’t say when this might happen.

  I was particularly concerned for Darí during his first few years as a Guardian, while he still lacked experience and could more easily get himself into trouble. Fortunately, new, inexperienced Guardians aren’t usually sent on dangerous assignments. So I worked a deal with Rallandrí. Anytime it looked like Darí might be in a potentially difficult situation, Rallandrí would shift my assignment, unannounced, to the location in question. I quickly learned to be ready to leave Ellendr?a on a moment’s notice.

  I think everyone was a bit worried about Darí, so a few of the problems that invariably come up with this type of last minute arrangement were overlooked. It meant that I could be at Darí’s back if he needed me, often without him knowing that I was coming. I also became very good at blocking my actions from him, assuming that our bond was even capable of transmitting much to Darí anymore. Once things had been resolved to my satisfaction, I would disappear as quickly as I had come, presumably off on another assignment.

  It wasn’t easy. I did it for four years. Sometimes, we actually met during a mission. A few times, I probably saved his life. When we did meet, I was never sure what to expect. Occasionally, he would be grateful, or happy to see me, and I could almost believe he was my deirfad. At other times, he would be in some other universe, his soul filled with darkness and pain. Then, he would walk right past me as if I wasn’t even there. Our an?ncára bond was just as troubled. Sometimes I could hardly feel the link between us and barely knew if he was alive or not, while at other times, I could sense his presence just as I always had when we were children together. On even rarer occasions, I was actually able to communicate with him telepathically. I just never knew what to expect.

  At the end of four years, I was exhausted, emotionally and physically. By this time, it was clear that Darí had become a highly skilled Guardian that was in no real need of protection by me or anyone else. Rallandrí had gotten tired of seeing my deirfad turn away from me, refusing to do assignment shifts for me anymore. Instead, he sent me back to Ellendr?a to stay, back to working as a Recorder for the Elder Council.

  I guess that was when I finally gave up on Darí. In giving up on him, I also gave up on myself. I did my Recorder’s duties and, on Rallandrí’s suggestion, I enrolled in Healer’s training. These things filled my time. I worked hard at them, but they didn’t give my life any meaning. I felt like I was drifting with no purpose or reason. There was a restlessness in my soul.

  After two years, I’d completed the Healer’s training, having done well enough, I suppose. However, I didn’t take my Healer’s Oath. In my heart, I was still a Guardian, and felt as though I always would be. The healing skills were useful, but I didn’t think that I would ever work as a Healer on Ellendr?a. Now, though, I had much more time in my life with not nearly enough things to fill it. The restlessness in my soul became a terrible need for action. Furthermore, in addition to the painful emptiness left behind by Darriel’s death, the loss of a meaningful relationship with Darí had left my heart hollow and aching. I was blindly seeking anything that would give me enough focus to keep going.

  The Cultaní raiders had begun directed attacks on the Guardians, seeing them as the only opposition to their inroads into Ll’Ellendr?n space. The Guardians weren’t used to fighting ruthless, armed aliens, and this was taking its toll. Each year, there were fewer and fewer Guardians—some died in action, some simply came home to Ellendr?a and laid down their Stars with no one willing to replace them. Fewer Guardians meant that now many of those that remained carried on their duties solo, rather than with the teamwork that used to be our normal approach. Guardians working solo had a greater risk of being in dangerous situations. As a result, there was a greater need to rescue individuals who had gotten into something that they couldn’t get out of by themselves.

  I saw a role for myself in all of this. Having gotten used to rapid deployment when I was surreptitiously watching my deirfad’s back, I could see that there was a place amongst the Guardians for someone who could get somewhere quickly, carry out a rescue, and hopefully get everyone back alive. Initially, Rallandrí wanted no part of this idea—he could see that it was going to be very dangerous, and that I really didn’t care. Thorven objected strenuously. However, I’d always been lucky. Now, I trained harder than I ever had before, working my mind and body until they were as finely honed as I could make them. Between luck and hard work, I thought I could pull this off. And the need was there. Finally, reluctantly, Rallandrí put me into service.

  I guess I became a bit of a crusader. I worked alone, with the firm belief that I would always get the job done, no matter what the personal cost to myself. I got tough, inured to minor injuries. Being a Healer helped, as I could look after myself pretty well. My luck held out—I never got hurt beyond my coping abilities. And lives were saved. This made me feel that there was still something worthwhile to which I could contribute. But it never helped the ache in my heart, the holes in my soul, the black depression that gradually became a bigger and bigger cloud in my life. I had long since stopped trying to communicate with Darí. I could hardly remember the last time I’d seen him. I figured that our an?ncára bond had faded into nothingness, although occasionally Darí would still reach out to me telepathically, wondering where I was, if I was all right. I guess we were still family, and he had a right to know. Beyond that, I paid little attention to much else, except getting the job done, saving as many lives as I could, and living one day at a time. In the end, I knew that eventually I was going to make a mistake that would cost me my life, but it really didn’t matter to me anymore. That day would come when it did.

  The durr?l was the most difficult of the psi crystals to produce, and contained elements that were relatively rare and hard to obtain. For those reasons, in addition to their inherent potential for misuse, they were only used by groups of psi workers engaged in circles or by Guardians.

  Paternal parent’s male phase sibling; equivalent to a paternal uncle on Terra.

  Like Guardians, Healers are also oath-bound, and swear the following Healer’s Oath:

  This I swear:

  I will consecrate my life to the service of humanity.

  I will give to my teachers the respect and gratitude which is their due, and will gladly share such knowledge as is mine with those who are to follow.

  I will respect the limitations of my own knowledge, and actively seek out the advice of others where my knowledge is not sufficient.

  I will practice my profession with conscience and dignity, and to the best of my ability and judgment.

  I will maintain by all the means in my power the honor and respected traditions of the r’Elerwai.

  The health of my patient will be my first consideration, and I will treat them with warmth, sympathy, and understanding.

  I will respect the privacy of my patients, for their problems are not disclosed to me that others may know.

  I will prevent disease whenever I can, for prevention is preferable to cure.

  I will not permit prejudices or discriminations of any kind or on any basis to intervene between my duty and my patient.

  I will maintain the utmost respect for human life; even under threat, I will not use my knowledge of healing contrary to the best interests of humanity or to the ethics of the r’Elerwai.

  I make these vows solemnly, freely and upon my honor.

  Note that “r’Elerwai” translates to “Healers” in Terran English. An individual may train as both a Guardian and a Healer, and be bound by both oaths. The Healer’s Oath takes precedence over the Guardian’s Oath.

  World Building – Storytelling.

  Guardians’ Destiny – Storytelling.