RJ Brousseau

Chapter 1       
The three glowing orbs of the Guardians hover in the pitch-black plane of nothingness.  A gentle mist floats between the spheres, swiftly changing in color and density, conveying the thoughts and emotions of these supreme beings.  The time to once again determine the fate of Agora is upon them.

The Guardians are ultimately responsible for guiding this world.  The gods believe themselves superior to all, forgetting the true intention of this realm, and how it is to serve in the journey of life.  Something needs to be done, before the purpose itself is forever changed.

A ghostly, disembodied voice speaks to all, yet no one.  “We have guided as those before us, and as all still to come.  Never before has such an atrocity been allowed to happen.  This world, which is our responsibility, is deteriorating before us.  Why give the gods great power, when they cannot see what needs to be done.  They are blinded by their petty bickering and constant power struggles.  We must end this and restore balance.  The time has come for us to correct the path on Agora.”

Another voice continues.  “The gods have failed us before, but this time must be their last.  They can never again be allowed to purge another from existence.  Exile of the soul is unacceptable.”

“It is agreed then, the gods will forever be banished from the spiritual plane.  If they so choose to remain in this realm, it must be in the physical plane where they will no longer be immortal.”

“When they battle among themselves, it will be their blood raining upon the grounds of Agora.  If they so choose to battle one and other, or interact with mere mortals, they put themselves in harm’s way.

“What of the penalty of a god’s death?”

“It must remain.  If a god dies within the physical realm, they surrender their own soul to the void, where it will remain until they are called upon once again.”

“Do we overstep our covenant by doing so?”

“We are the covenant and there must be consequences for their actions.  The choice is still theirs and theirs alone.  The mortals need to learn about the consequences of actions, the gods must also.”

The spheres start swelling and glow brightly with a hazy cloud engulfing all three.  Short bolts of lightning arc about the space with random dots of colors illuminating the path each travels.  These specs then dance about and grow in intensity, before exploding into a rainbow of colors deep within the mist.  Slowly the light fades and each guardian returns to its original size and color.  The course of the realm is now righted.

After a brief silence a thought leaps between the Guardians.  “It is now time.  I must continue my own journey.  Another shall be chosen when the time is right.”

A single sphere begins to glow intensely before it bursts into a blinding white light.  The dark void is flooded with intense emotions of joy, anger, peace and uncertainty.  As the light subsides, so does the rush of feelings.  All that remain are two spheres, glowing not as brightly as they once did.