The Guardian

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The Guardian Page 8

by Carol Robi


  A shadow falls over my flat caramel-toned stomach as someone walks up to us, snapping me back from my thoughts.

  "Hi, you two. You look dreadfully thirsty," Magnus teases, handing us two cold beers and placing a bag of chips on my thighs.

  I sit up, opening the beer can nervously. I don't dare say it aloud, but I have never drank beer before. I have sipped a number of times at mom's wine, when she wasn't watching. I have also drunk a cup or two of the heady sweet millet mead, whenever my grandmother in Kenya had held a party when we were visiting. But never once beer.

  He raises his can to the air shouting, "Skål!" Our other schoolmates around us do the same and I follow in suit. Skål means cheers in Danish.

  I read somewhere or the other of the terrible taste of beer to new timers, so I try mask the scowl that crosses my face as I swallow fast the murky tasting sludge in my mouth, and smile up at the others. Thankfully no one notices anything. It is my first class party and I want to make a good impression of myself. The last thing I want is to be singled out as uncool.

  "How long do you plan on staying at the party, Caroline?" Magnus asks, turning towards me as he takes another chug at his drink.

  "Ummh... I'm not sure, depends on how long the party will last. But I plan on at least catching the last bus home." I answer him.

  "Me too, so I'll just set a reminder so that we don't get too buzzed and miss it." He says chuckling.

  "Great idea!" I mumble, choking on another gulp of beer.

  Sending me a ‘thumbs up’, he takes out his phone, taps onto it a number of times before tucking it away again.

  Magnus and I have been catching the bus together every morning to school. But in the afternoons, I have been taking another bus, since Rø is in the opposite side from Lejtoft.

  The rest of our friends soon join us, and Charlotte and I get off the table, and sit on the chairs like everyone else.

  Earlier in the week, A.M. had picked a 50 kroner from all those that would attend the party, which had been almost everyone in the school really. With that money, they had bought the cases of canned beer, sodas, snacks, a couple of one-time-use barbecue burners and frozen meat and bread to barbeque later for dinner.

  The party quickly picks up tempo as more and more beer cans are cracked open. I begin to feel my tension ease away and I let myself relax a little more when I finish my second beer.

  A.M. plays a good role as my 'wingman', introducing me to the whole ton of boys at the school. She even goes as far as to want to introduce me to the girls around that she thinks could be into girl-on-girl. I slap at her playfully before she even finishes the sentence, and she laughs in response.

  "Who knows, maybe that is your thing!" She exclaims, nuzzling her face into my hair in mock flirtation. "And I don't judge!" She whispers in my hair, before biting the bottom of my earlobe playfully.

  I squeal out with laughter, losing my balance in my sudden movements, I hang on to her as I fall backwards off the bench, sending her down with me. The others' faces are soon looking down at us laughing hysterically at our awkward fall, our legs still perched over the bench.

  "How much have you been drinking, Caroline?" Mikkel asks mocking, staring at the two empty cans in front of my third open beer.

  "Or do the beers you are drinking just have a higher alcohol percentage?" He questions with a chuckle, raising one of the cans and pretending to scrutinize the label.

  "Shut up, goof face, and help us up. I am just a light drinker!" I joke back at him, flailing my hands above me. They help us up at their own leisure, drawing out the moment for as long as they can, enjoying the spectacle.

  We soon begin barbecuing the meat and breads. By the time we settle to eat, using the plastic utensils set up on the table, my stomach is grumbling furiously. We eat slowly, amid happy conversation and silly slapstick humor.

  When I get up some hours later to follow A.M. to the ladies, I stumble, almost falling. I had no idea that I was that buzzed, having been seated most of the evening. The others laugh good-humoredly at my expense, but I do not feel embarrassed about it, choosing instead to join them in laughing.

  A.M. and I walk hand in hand into the auditorium's open doors, making our way to the toilets just beyond the corridor past the door on the other end.

  "So, who is the cutest in our class?" A.M. giggles at me, her cheerful nature hyped up by the alcohol.

  "I say Mikkel, hands down!"

  "Haha! Why am I not surprised? Yeah, he is very cute," she admits smiling sadly. "Is he the one you want to kiss tonight? It's totally ok with me...”

  "Hey! No way! I want you two to 'hook-up' and talk... And fall in love... And have babies...” I carry on laughing as she attempts to cover my mouth with her palm to stop my verbal outbursts. We spend a little longer in the toilets than necessary, looking at our images in the mirror and discussing the boys in our class, and whom would be the best for me to 'virgin kiss' with.

  A.M is unbelievably even more beautiful tonight, I think to myself, staring at her thick rich brown mane cascading down her face. I giggle, thinking that I am probably looking at her through the famous alcohol-goggles, a phrase I have often heard been used a number of times before in TV shows. I look back at my image in the mirror and hand comb my thick curls slowly.

  "You have amazing hair!" She breathes out, standing behind me, a head taller, and runs her hand over the curls.

  "Thanks!" I say beaming up at her image, "But it is so unruly." I complain untangling a small knot that has formed.

  "Unruly is hot!" She declares as a matter of fact, and I giggle at her serious note. We then hear Mikkel's unmistakable voice singing along, out of tune, to Rihanna's Diamonds blaring just barely audibly from the auditorium. I immediately turn to A.M. with an idea, and from the sharp raise of her eyebrows and the tell-tale quirk at the corner of her mouth, I know she is thinking the same thing.

  She walks to the door, and just as his voice sounds to be coming from right outside the girls' toilet, she opens the door suddenly and waves him inside, wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him confidently. He looks pleasantly surprised, before he too locks his arms around her and returns her deep kiss.

  I barely just manage to squeeze myself around them, and walk out the door, shutting it quietly behind me. I lean against it and smile happily to myself. She really likes him a lot. I hope that they don't spend the whole time kissing, and instead get to talking about what they want from each other.

  I immediately pry my eyes open when I feel the warmth begin to creep up around me. Before me are the two brothers, dressed casually in rolled up shirts and the currently trending pants. Raphael's are black, while Ariel's are a light shade of brown.

  Do they shop together, and have an agreement of what to wear everyday? I chuckle to myself.

  "I did not pen you for a peeping Tom, Caroline," Ariel starts up jokingly, and I smile back at him.

  "You know nothing about me, Ariel," I counter back at him. "How are you guys? I was beginning to hope you’d left town," I say to them, my confidence magnified now that I am buzzed.

  "No we haven't. Not yet anyway." Raphael says quietly with his blank face. I am disappointed that he answers me, I want Ariel instead to talk to me, being that he is much warmer.

  "I see you are a ray of sunshine as always, Raphael!" I drawl out slowly, and Ariel joins me in quietly laughing at his brother. When we finally stop, he looks at me, his face getting serious again.

  "We need to talk. Your friend will be in there for a while, so let us talk in that classroom," he says pointing at a door to the far right.

  "Ummh... Ariel... I am definitely not willingly getting into an empty room with two strange men." I laugh. "That is the first thing my mother taught me, I think. One of the first, anyway."

  "Relax, we won’t harm you,” he says with a smile, “and I'd rather not force you to follow us there," he adds, his voice having dropped from the warm hearty one that I know and like, to a cold one. The difference is so
unexpected that the hairs at the back of my neck stand at their ends, and my hands begin to shake involuntarily again.

  He scares me most of the two, because he can in a split second change from a loving warm friend, to a cold-hearted killer. I, weirdly enough, prefer Raphael because at least with him I am always prepared for the worst. I follow them quietly, shuffling my steps to a jog, as I struggle to keep up with their long quick strides.

  Once in the room, Raphael shuts the door behind us. My breath comes out in irregular gasps now.

  "Relax," Ariel says to me, smiling warmly again while lifting his hand to trace my face. I am frozen in place, my heart still hammering against my ribs, because at this moment, I am very terrified of him. He is a master manipulator.

  "Do you know how hard it is to get you alone? You are probably the most social human in the world," he laughs, trying to pull me in to joke with him again as I had done before.

  But the damage is already done. I have already seen his other side, and I do not want to let my guard down again around him. He seems to give up on trying to coerce me to smile, and instead takes a step back away from me.

  I watch from the corner of my eye as Raphael flicks his hand, and immediately shapeless ghostlike blobs seep into the room from the external wall. It is with every inch of my being, that I force myself to remain standing in place, as the room is filled with the five blobs floating right before me. I look at them, but unlike what happened with Ariel, where I just stared at him and he got a body, nothing happens.

  Ariel reaches out his hand to cup my face again, forcing me to keep staring ahead at the creatures. I watch as the foremost of these creatures opens a dark gaping hole that could only be its mouth.

  Scared, I flinch from Ariel’s touch, but not strong enough I guess, for his hand continues cupping my chin, holding it tightly in his hand, but not nearly as painfully as Raphael had held me that first time we met.

  "..Isn't it working?" A melodic female voice asks in frustration in their strange language, as the gaping hole of the shadowy figure moves nightmarishly before me. I know I only understand her due to Ariel's touch.

  "Try touching her, that is how she transfigured Raphael," Ariel answers it.

  I try to inch away, as the blob-like matter floats over to me, but I am immobilized by Ariel's grip on my chin. I feel the creatures searing heat, as its spirit floats into contact with my skin. Unlike with Raphael though, her energy floats right through me. Ariel now looks puzzled back at me, even Raphael's eyes almost look confused, if the slight shadowy flicker I think I detect is anything to go by.

  "Do it," Raphael impatiently orders in their language.

  "Do what?" I ask, just as confused, if not more.

  "Transfigure them, as you transfigured us." Ariel says, as though he has just given a full explanation to what is going on.

  "I don't know how I did it!" I say, fearing for my life if I cannot grant them what they want.

  "How did you transfigure us? Do the same for them." Raphael says, losing patience with me. Tears well up in my eyes as I realize that I might probably have outlived my usefulness. Maybe the only reason they had kept me alive this long was because they had hoped I could 'transfigure' their friends too.

  "I don't know," I whisper, my voice breaking and the tears pouring out. But they all just stand there looking at me with blank expressions, unmoved by my tears. I wipe angrily at the tears betraying my weakness with the sleeve of my jumper that I have pulled over my palm due to anxiety.

  "What were you thinking? Feeling?" Ariel urges me, still staring at me impassively.

  I long for his smile, his brown eyes to soften, comfort me, but only cruel reality stares back at me.

  "I don't know. I don't remember." I whisper, chewing my bottom lip in frustration. "I was scared. Very scared...”

  Moving faster than my eyes can follow, Ariel draws the sword whose hilt magically appears again behind his head and simultaneously wraps his long fingers around my neck, squeezing the air out of me. I claw at his fingers, my head getting hazy from lack of oxygen supply, but his fingers don't move. My vision begins to blur, and my chest rasps painfully for lack of air.

  Chapter 11

  He finally lets me go, disappointment crossing his face, for his friends are still indeterminate floating masses. He must have assumed scaring me would force me to transfigure them. I fold over myself, as I struggle to let air into my lungs.

  "You must transfigure them." He says quietly, sheathing his sword again. He paces, no glides, to and fro across the room, his muscles tensed up with frustration. I look away from him, and turn to Raphael with my pleading eyes. Cold blue eyes stare right back at me. Unblinking.

  "What else is missing, think hard!" Ariel grinds the words at me. My face must have betrayed something when a thought crosses my mind, for he narrows his eyes at me and asks gravely, "what?"

  "I think... There was this... In the air... A richness of sorts...” I stutter, not making much sense to myself either.

  "Divine Essence? Of course!" He exclaims abruptly, smiling triumphantly as his eyes once again warm up. "You could sense it?"

  "Yes, yes I think so." I say, excited at my new lease of life.

  Even before I can protest, Raphael walks up to me quickly, in one instance lifting me off my feet and holding me against his chest. I shut my eyes, anticipating the worst, as I feel a slight tugging at my limbs, and cool air flowing smoothly along my skin, that isn't pressed against the hard warm body beside me.

  Some minutes or so later, my feet land on unmistakably soft ground. I look around surprised as I take in the beautiful park, my new favorite spot in the whole world.

  A gasp of delight escapes through my partly parted lips as I take in a deep intoxicating gulp of air, almost drowning myself in its sweet essence.

  I barely notice, at first, the ghosts crowding before me. But when I raise my gaze to look at the one at the forefront, a tall lithe body forms before my eyes, transfiguring itself into my imagination of what a modern day Mulan would look like. Her long thick straight hair flows behind her, as she shakes it out against the gentle breeze. Her unmistakable almond shaped eyes form, her irises darkening into beautiful black opals. Her skin is flawless, and her features are perfection itself. She has on the same combat suit and boots that the brothers had on.

  A gasp of surprise escapes me when powerful bronze wings spring out of her back with a loud flap. They are an exquisite pair, darkening to almost black at their tips. There is nothing feminine about those wings, all muscular, in every definition. She smiles at me warmly, throwing her long straight and luscious black hair over her shoulders.

  "Thank you," she says to me in her melodic voice. I smile back at her. I cannot help it. "I love the body you have granted me," she goes on to say as she looks down at herself, before tapping at the sword between her wings.

  "You can speak English?" I ask her bemused, for the last two I had transfigured couldn't speak world languages until I granted them the gift.

  "And all world languages too," she says beaming. Another ghost steps up impatiently before me, making me take a step back in fear.

  "It's ok, that's just Camael. She is not known for her patience," Mulan says warmly to me, and her attention to my feelings comforts me.

  "I am Uriel," she adds, extending her hand towards me, which I shake warmly.

  "Caroline," I say, just above a whisper.

  The blob that is Camael impatiently brushes by my face to get my attention to it. I turn to look at it, and it immediately transfigures into a beautiful tall blonde woman. I am a little disappointed, for I had hoped to turn her into an ugly old hag or something. She extends her hand to shake mine briefly, and immediately places herself by Raphael, kissing his cheek warmly and possessively. Figures, I think to myself, birds of a feather and all.

  The next two ghosts transfigure into tall well-built guys that introduce themselves as Ambriel and Cassiel. They both smile at me heartily as they shake my hand profusel
y.

  "For a second there, I thought we would remain imprisoned in that state," one of them says and the other echoes his words. I am already confused between the two, on who Cassiel is again and who is Ambriel. They appear to be identical twins, the only difference between them is that one has slightly softer facial angles than the other.

  The last blob before me is floating left and right as if impatient for his turn. I turn my attention towards him, watching him unravel into a tall Greek god before my eyes. His sunshine features, quirked flirty mouth and twinkling green eyes with yellow/orange speckles, making me instantaneously think of a very much younger, handsomer version of Zeus. I cannot help it but blush in his presence as he walks up to me. He takes my hand in his, and kisses the back of it.

  I blink astonished, a smile snaking up my lips at his charming antics.

  "A true beauty you are, guardian," he says to me. I fight back a giggle, and shamelessly flirt back with my eyes.

  "Caroline," he murmurs, pushing a curl behind my ear. The touch sends thrills through my body. I am surprised at my reaction to him.

  I thought I was attracted to Ariel! I scream at myself inside. Or is it Raphael I am attracted to? I swallow back the giggle. What does it matter? I am a teenager. I like all good looking boys with great hair.

  "I am Azrael," he whispers seductively into my hair, "the angel of death."

  My heart literally stops. I am frozen in place at what he has just revealed, and my eyes quickly catch Ariel's and beg, implore him to help me. Ariel however just smiles back at me, amused.

  How could I ever have thought him kind or caring? I should never have given him grandpa's eyes! I scold myself internally.

  "I don't want to die," I whisper imploringly, my hand still hovering near his lips where he holds it. His head is still buried in my hair, his warm breath against my neck chilling me.

  "No you don't, little princess. Do you?" The angel of death mocks me, using the name my father always calls me.

 

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