Gotchi Guardians Prologue and Chapter 1

Prologue:

While many battled in the mountain range that divided the island, separated the great gardens of Ethen and Oden, the life of one child was about to change into something from tales of destiny.

Caramel colored waves of hair gently bounced as the young one ran through the garden surrounding their mother's house, where she was inside cleaning and cooking. Bright but light blue eyes awed at the selection of strawberries, most still green but beginning to grow large. The child blinked at their favorite fruit and then began taking the individuals into their little hands. They eyed each young fruit, felt the seediness of the exterior.

And then, a shrill shriek exploded from within the greenery.

The child jumped back before looking closer. They pawed away the leaves and immature fruits and stems.

“Linden?” the mother's voice floated worriedly out a window.

“Mama!” Linden replied, still digging into the brush to find the source of the sound.

As Linden found what appeared to be a rotund, ripe strawberry, their mother appeared behind them. She tugged on her child's shirt, pulling the child and odd, screaming strawberry out into the open air.

Her long, golden curls swayed as she moved her head back and forth, “It can't be!”

Linden was staring at the peculiar fruit with wonder, “Look, Mama!”

The mother pushed her child into the wooden house. In the main room, they set the fruit on the table and examined it. The thick green leaves seemed to be feet, while one side of the strawberry had a face. Eyes and mouth, and perhaps a tiny nose. By now, the upside-down strawberry had finished screaming and was rolling around happily.

“What is it?” Linden asked.

Their mother explained, “Do you remember when you learned about the Gotchi and their guardians?”

“Yeah!” Linden exclaimed, recalling tales that were over three hundred years old.

It had been common for gardeners to be gifted a guardian from the Gotchi. However, there had not been any Gotchi guardians granted to gardeners in centuries.

The mother forced a smile and looked at her child, “I guess this is your guardian, Linden.”

Linden smiled with great excitement. They looked at the rolling baby guardian and then declared, “Her name is Rou!”

Linden's mother nodded, “All right. Why don't you and Rou go take a nap?”

“But Mama,” Linden protested.

She insisted, leading her child to a room with two beds and a stand between them. She placed Rou in a clay pot that had settled soil inside and then urged Linden to rest in their bed. She closed the curtains so no sunlight would disturb her little one.

Linden woke to a familiar voice in the main room. It was their older brother, Swift.

“That's impossible!” he exclaimed.

“Hush!” their mother scolded, “You'll wake Linden and Rou.”

Swift hardly lowered his voice, “But, everyone ever graced with a guardian was thirteen; that's how it goes because then you have a year to train with it until adulthood.”

“I know,” their mother replied, “But Linden found her, and I'm afraid of what that means.”

“We can't send a six-year-old to war!” Swift cried out, worried about his younger sibling.

Linden blinked. What were they talking about? They did not quite understand.

“We'll have to go to the monastery,” the mother decided and then ordered, “Go get your

sibling.”

Footsteps grew louder until Swift was in the doorway. The evening light that caused the blinds to dimly glow made the brother barely visible. He was tall and thin, pale skin like his family members, and had black curls and emerald eyes that matched their mother's gaze.

“Swift!” Linden jumped out of bed and ran to their brother. The siblings embraced.

“Mama told me about Rou,” Swift smiled and began walking toward the pot.

Linden happily pulled Rou out of it and held her in their palms. “Isn't she cute?”

“She is!” Swift nodded. Then, he said, “But we have to keep her a secret, okay?”

“Why?” Linden was very confused now.

Swift gently explained, “If everyone knew about Rou, bad things could happen.”

“Like what?” Linden challenged.

Swift patted their sibling's head, “Don't worry about it. Just put Rou in your pocket, and let's go.”

With renewed excitement, Linden followed Swift into the main room of the house. Their mother had lowered the cooked food into a cool place to save it—a hole in the ground lined with giant, thick leaves. She covered the hole with a large cloth, and then she turned to her children.

“Are we ready?” she asked them.

Swift looked at Linden, “Are you ready, Lin?”

Linden nodded with great enthusiasm, “Let's go!”

And so, they went.

By the time they reached the monastery that was on the eastern shore, the sun had fallen and no rays were left to light the world. Instead, the moon glimmered above and reflected off the ocean's unstable surface.

The mother knocked on the large, wooden door. It was but a few heartbeats before it opened to reveal a man who looked very much like Swift, but with icy blue eyes.

“Marigold,” the man grumbled, “Surely you don't want another child!”

She sighed with embarrassment, “Father Glen, please. I would not have brought the children here if that is what I wanted.”

His gaze darted between the older brother and younger sibling. “Why bring them here?”

Marigold quietly told him, “Linden found a baby guardian in our garden today.”

His expression changed to one of shock, “What?”

Linden, following a permissive gesture from Marigold, pulled Rou from their pocket and showed the high priest.

He examined Rou without touching her. “By Gotchi!” he cried, “That is a guardian!”

“Help us, please,” Marigold begged, “If the others find out, they might want to send Linden and Rou to the depths of the war!”

“I understand,” he gave a single nod, “I'll keep them here, where they'll be safe.”

“What do we tell everyone?” Swift asked, “It'd be weird for Lin to just be gone.”

Father Glen had an answer, “It is not unheard of for a high priest, who is also a father, to take one of their offspring to raise to be one of the holy.”

Swift looked down at his mother and she looked up to him as they exchanged glances.

Father Glen commented to the woman, “It seems our arrangement has come to benefit the children more than we had ever considered.”

“I have to stay here?” Linden suddenly understood.

Swift hugged his little sibling. There were eleven years between them, but they had an intense bond. Marigold took her arms around her children. A small cry came from her, but she silenced it to appear strong.

“Father Glen will take good care of you and Rou, Linden,” Marigold promised.

Chapter 1:

The monastery was a large square place made up primarily of strong wood. In the very center was an open area that held a special garden that housed rare plants and a small spring. That was where Linden was staring into the pool around the pool with their guardian, Rou.

They stared at themselves, wondering how the changes had happened.

Rou had grown into her primary form after about a year. Now, she looked like a red rabbit with floppy ears, paler underbelly and tail, and odd green markings. Her eyes were a yellow the color of the early morning sun.

Linden was taller now. They were not as tall as their big brother, or at least how they remembered him, but they were slightly taller than everyone else. They also had grown out in ways they had never imagined. Their body was accented with light curves, and their chest was heavy with breasts they never intended on using and that they had never wanted; still, they were not as curvaceous as their mother. Still, they kept their caramel waves short-ish, and their sky blue eyes were as wondrous as ever.

“Linden,” a deep voice came.

They looked around, as did Rou, and saw the man they knew as both their father and as Father Glen at one of the openings of the wooden walls into the open-air garden.

His gruff voice came again, “We have a guest today.”

“Who?” Linden asked, always painfully aware of their high-pitched voice.

“A clothesman,” Father Glen explained, “you'll be measured and fitted into formal attire for a ceremony we are soon to have.”

“What ceremony?”

He sighed from annoyance, “A warrior who gave his life to defending our great garden has been killed. He is now a martyr, and since you have a guardian from the Gotchi, it will be the first time in many, many generations that a martyr will be made a saint.”

“But no one knows about Rou except us here,” Linden argued.

Father Glen pinched the bridge of his nose, “I know you're seventeen now, and technically an adult, but please, stop acting as though you have authority!”

Linden frowned, “I just want to understand.”

With a heavy breath out, Father Glen told them, “It will be a ceremony with only those who are allowed to know involved. It will not be celebrated like in the times before.”

“Right,” Linden stated.

“Now, come along,” Father Glen turned and began to return into the darkness of the halls.

Linden put their backpack down for Rou to climb in. Then, they followed.

They were waiting in a room lit by an open window. The backpack containing Rou was in the corner.

“Do I have to stay in here?” Rou squeaked as she poked out her face.

“Yes,” Linden replied, “we can't be given away.”

She huffed and tucked her head back into the canvas pack.

Not long later, a young man walked into the room carrying many materials.

Linden's eyes widened. “Liz?”

The dark-skinned man with long black hair dropped everything, and then he turned to look at Linden, his sapphire eyes shining with excitement.

“Lin!” He was clearly happy to see his friend from childhood.

They embraced and then pulled apart.

“How's life out there?” Linden asked first.

Lizard answered, “Same as always; how's life in here?”

Linden shrugged, “Not all it's supposed to be.”

“But aren't you holy now?” Lizard insisted, “That's what everyone says, and that's amazing; not everyone gets to be holy!”

Linden offered a small chuckle, “Yeah, something like that.” They glanced at the backpack, but it was sitting still.

“So, what're you doing here?” Linden changed the subject.

Lizard began grabbing at materials and tools, “My father raised me into a clothesman, just like he was!”

“Was?” Linden blinked curiously, “Did he die?”

Lizard grimaced, “May as well; he left for the battlegrounds.”

Linden shook their head, “No, but he was never a fighter!”

Lizard explained, “True, but his best friend was recently killed in the war. I don't think you knew him; his name was Gale. He's a war hero and a martyr.”

Was that the same person Father Glen had mentioned earlier? Linden did not know.

Linden and Lizard continued to chatter as the one took measurements and helped the other into new, formal cloths.

They hugged for a long time before Lizard had to leave with all of his materials. Linden sat around, Rou on their lap now, and waited until they were told what to do next.

A priestess, olive skin and braids of wheat for hair, came into the chamber and spoke politely.

“Linden, Rou,” she addressed them both, “It is time for the ceremony.”

Linden and Rou walked down the halls behind the priestess who was cloaked in lavender colored robes. Finally, they came into the garden at the center of the building.

Father Glen and other priests and priestesses were already gathered. A body laid atop a pile of kindling. This body would be burned, as all were.

“Linden?” a distressed voice came from a woman's sobs.

Linden looked over and saw the woman they had known as their mother.

“Mama!” Linden exclaimed as they raced to her. Rou hopped alongside them.

“Linden,” Father Glen scolded, “Now is not the time!”

Linden and Marigold were holding each other now. Linden looked to the high priest and asked, “Then why is she here?”

The lower ranking priests and priestesses looked around awkwardly. Father Glen almost growled, “She's here for the burning ceremony.”

“But why?” Linden insisted.

Father Glen stammered, “It-it's for my brother, Gale.”

Before Linden could push for more information, Marigold placed her soft palm on her child's face and made it so their gazes were one.

She smiled with tears coming from her face, “Gale was my mate.”

Shocked, Linden asked, “Then why is Father Glen our father?” They were referring to their brother as well.

She cried, “He isn't; Gale is.”

Linden glared at Father Glen, “What is the meaning of this?”

The high priest was quite irritated at this point. He said, “We arranged it so you and your brother would still benefit from having a father; while Gale was guiding our warriors to win, he could not offer the same security and safety that I, a high priest, could.”

The body had burned. Father Glen had said words. Ceremonial words, a eulogy, and words tailored to his little brother. And then, he had taken the ashes and filled a large, spiraling seashell.

Now, the group walked out of the monastery, everyone surrounding Linden and Rou to hide

them. They continued the short way to the beach. Once they reached the edge of the saltwater waves, Father Glen handed the ash-infused shell to Linden.

“What now?” Linden asked.

“Rou will be able to part the water as a grace of Gotchi,” Father Glen explained, “you will walk to the edge of the shallows, where the drop-off is, and there you will cast the shell into the depths of the ocean so that his soul will be expelled to the depths of the sky and join the Gotchi as a saint.”

And so, Rou led the way into the ocean. With each little hop, more water parted. Fish and such were swimming about in the shallows on either side. There came a point when the muddy water darkened and turned a deep blue. Linden gulped and worried about taking another step.

“This is it,” Rou declared.

Linden nodded and outstretched their arm, the shell in their hand. The fist opened and the shell fell. There was a slight splash and then it dove deep, faster than Linden had expected.

That was it. It was the only interaction Linden had had with their actual father, and it would be their last memory of him.

Maybe now Gale could rest in peace.