Guardians

I had completely lost it by then. I started to cry hysterically.

"He's coming for us," I cried out in despair. "I don't want to be here. I just want to go home!" I was sure that my friend was rather embarrassed by my crazed antics, but he tried to comfort me all the same.

"It's all right, Rose; everything will be okay," my friend said quietly, but my distraught mind told me he was trying to comfort himself as well. I had never felt so frightened before. The sheer panic of not knowing what was going to happen was eating away at my mind.

"Rose," my friend said to me, a firmer tone evident in his voice, "trust me. Everything will turn out all right, you'll see." I struggled to stop the incessant tears as his word echoed in my mind.

"Do you really think so?" I asked, reminding myself later of how I felt when my mom would try to comfort me, especially after receiving another exotic postcard from my almost nonexistent father.

"Of course," he replied. His voice was soothing, like gently falling rain in spring. Then I remembered his strange comment from earlier in the silence.

"What did you mean when you said that the Brethren wanted you instead of me?" I asked, the flow of tears slowing to a halt. I saw him sigh heavily, as if he was taking a large load off his back.

"Well, it's kind of a long story..." he trailed off. I had the feeling that he was still unsure whether to explain or not.

"Please?" I asked carefully.

"Okay," he consented, and I concentrated on him rather than our dire future. "Have you ever heard of the Othersight?" I shook my head.

"Well, the Othersight is a sense that everyone has. You know the feeling you get when you think something bad is going to happen? That's the Othersight. Only in my case, it's a little different.

"Not only can I feel that something is going to happen, I can tell what it would be. That's not all, though: sometimes I'll bump into someone, and some of their memories will brush off on me."

"That's weird... no offense of course," I remarked quite frankly. "What kind of memories?"

"Just ones with a lot of emotion attached," he replied. "On the day we met, Rose, we shook hands. Some of your memories were shared with me. For example, I saw you and your parents on a beach, though I assume that was before your father left." He trailed off into an awkward silence, leaving us to our own separate thoughts. My friend was right. When I was young, I used to go to the beach with my mom and father, when we were still together. I was sure I had never told my friend about that; I didn't like to talk about my father much. I coughed unceremoniously to try to break the stillness.

"Why would they want you, Rose?" he asked. He had a right to ask, I suppose, since I hadn't been explaining myself as well as I should. I suddenly realized what my friend had gone through only a minute before. I tried to find the right words, but they refused to come. I decided just to go right out and say it.

"I suppose it's because I have a lot of magic in me," I started. "You know how most wizards can wield one element better over another? Well, I can use all of the elements equally. In other words, any type of magic comes easily to me, and most spells come out with a lot of punch. I guess they want me to do something for the Brethren." My heart pounded, but it was of relief. Finally, to be able to tell someone a secret that was such a burden to keep! I looked to see my friend's reaction. To my surprise, he smiled.

"That's really cool," he said, and I raised an eyebrow in bewilderment. He explained, "Just think: if we were to work together, the Brethren would be no trouble at all."

"Or anyone else, for that matter," a dark voice interjected.