4,976 years ago.

  “What is wrong with you people?”

  Cryos stormed into the grand hall of the Guardian Temple. His long white hair blew in a chill breeze he brought with his arrival. The other Guardians, most of them lightly dressed for the summer months and a few even shirtless, complained loudly. Several lecti zipped about, either quietly conversing with one another or watching Cryos with curiosity.

  “You’ll have to be more specific, Cryos,” said Issa. He was lying on his stomach on a low divan near the table, receiving a massage from a pair of his concubines. “Sources tell me that’s a long list.”ye

  A chuckle rose from the assembled Twelve. Cryos drew his lips tom a line.

  “Hello, Cryos,” Arafel, Guardian of Mist, was dining at a table along with all of the others except Issa. He drew lazily from a long pipe, stretching his lanky form across his chair. “That’s customary, you know, when you see friends after a long absence. Or even a short one.”

  Cryos clenched and unclenched his fists. The room smelled of rich food and fine perfume. Musicians strummed and fluted on the dais where they had all once taken their oaths. He took a deep breath and let it out. One thing at a time.

  “I apologize, my brothers,” he said. “It is good to see you all. I have had a long journey.”

  “Why didn’t you use the portals?” Bina the Mind Guardian asked. “It’s what they’re for.” Bina absently played with his prized beard and regarded Cryos through his monocle. Cryos reflexively aligned his mind to rebuff any probing, as he always did when Bina addressed him.

  “I find it edifying to see our lands, Lord Bina. The people. Our people. And I must say, I have seen and heard things during my travels that I find deeply concerning.”

  “Perhaps you could cover your eyes and ears?” asked Issa. He was up now, being helped into an ornate robe.

  Cryos clasped his hands behind his back. “Do you find that works for you, Issa?”

  The damnable man at least had the decency to look sheepish. Cryos took his seat at the table. A servant offered him a goblet of wine. He accepted, but he only took a small ritual sip before setting the vessel aside.

  “We should hear him out,” said Ruwa. “This is what the annual conclave is for, after all.”

  “Thank you, Ruwa,” said Cryos. The Wind Guardian had a bit of heart left in him. If only it were backed by a spine.

  “Right then, let’s hear it,” said Taleron the Earth Guardian in his gruff voice. He didn’t pause as he pulled a chicken apart and ate bare-handed.

  “On Yamin’s islands,” Cryos began, “I encountered corrupt merchants swindling travelers. I spotted pirate ships, though they quickly turned tail when they saw my colors. Oh, and shrines. I took the liberty of destroying the one dedicated to me.”

  Yamin, Guardian of Water, shifted uncomfortably.

  Cryos continued, “When I came to port in Yaar and traveled inland, I found rebels and marauders hiding in Urin’s forests. Some of the roads are so overgrown or cluttered with deadfall they’re nearly impassable. Nature cults call us ‘spirits.’ Perhaps their leader should appear to them in the flesh once in a while to remind them that he is, indeed, still flesh?

  “And the story was the same as I made my way here. Ruwa, Arafel, Taleron? Regents accepting bribes. I had to slaughter a bandit king who was basically holding one of your towns hostage, Ruwa.”

  “There has been a lack of recruits to police the roads,” Ruwa muttered.

  “And of course, more blasphemy,” Cryos pressed on. “Even in the shadow of your libraries and places of learning, Bina. Can your scholars not go out and educate the populace? We’re descending to the status of myth, of legend, because I was the first damn Guardian some of them have seen in years! You’re not just delegating, you’re abdicating! And they’re worshipping us, by the Shones! One of the first things our master taught us! We are not gods!”

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  Issa had taken his place, but rather than touch his own plate he was having a pretty woman feed him instead. His lecti—and of course even the tiny spirit took the form of a beautiful woman—sat coquettishly on his shoulder, though she regarded the concubine with distaste. “Well,” Issa said, “let’s face it. We are the closest things to gods they have.”

  “And that,” said Cryos pointedly as he held Issa’s gaze, “is only what I have seen in person. Of the rest of our lands, in the north of this continent or to the east past the Scar, I have heard rumors. They are not flattering.”

  “Well,” said Bina, “perhaps we can convene a committee to discuss infrastructure—”

  “That isn’t even the worst,” Cryos interrupted, his voice sharp. “But you should all feel ashamed. We are meant to be leaders, the hope of the people. To protect, to instill discipline. The empire has already cracked in half. Are we really going to watch what’s left of it crumble into lawlessness while we still have our amulets and each other?”

  “You said that wasn’t the worst,” said Raichi. “What’s the worst?”

  “The Garrison, of course! It’s been over twenty years, and the war still isn’t over! They’ve been recruiting, digging in, infiltrating us. I believe a lot of this unrest is caused by them.”

  “They are a remnant,” said Nepha. “The dregs of the Eternal Enemy. They will fade away eventually.”

  “I think you underestimate their mysterious leader,” said Cryos. “But if you truly believe they are so weak, why wait? Let’s pluck them out like the splinter they are and let this world finally heal!”

  There was an uncomfortable silence at the table.

  “Kinzo!” Cryos addressed the Metal Guardian. “It would be just like old times, wouldn’t it?”

  “That it would,” Kinzo said carefully. “And believe me, nothing would please me more than crossing swords with a worthy opponent again. But things are quite busy in my area—mining operations, smelting. So many orders to fill. No small number of them from your people, Cryos.”

  “That’s what your regents and stewards are for!” Cryos said, exasperated. “So we can be free to respond to crises! Not so they can rule in your stead while you lounge!”

  Cryos punctuated the statement by flicking a tiny, almost casual speck of ice aether at Issa, striking his goblet as he raised it to his mouth. Issa dropped as it crusted in ice. Even the wine froze mid-spill.

  “Cryos, my friend,” Issa said with mock pleasantness, “I can’t help but feel singled out.”

  “I will do some research, Cryos, if you’d like,” said Bina. “My scholars will determine the extent of the problem and whether the Garrison is truly a threat.”

  “There is no need,” said Cryos. “I already have your answer: The problem is very extensive, and the Garrison is a threat! You don’t need to look at books to see that, Bina, you need to look at the people!”

  Cryos sat back in his chair and sighed, pausing for a moment. “I propose three months, maybe six. How does that sound?”

  “For what?” asked Urin.

  “For us to set our affairs in order, clean up our sovereignties as best we can, and regroup to chase down the Garrison. Let’s act decisively and make the Guardians known throughout the world again. For what we are, not for what these damned cults make of us.”

  “Cryos, do you have any idea how many islands are in my archipelago?” Yamin asked. “How large the ocean is?”

  “We don’t even know where the Garrison is,” said Taleron. “Where their leadership is based. You want to band together and tromp blindly across the entire planet?”

  “Naturally we’ll have to scout and chase down rumors,” said Cryos. “If we just—”

  But he’d lost them, and he knew it. Not that he’d ever had them. One by one the other guardians voiced their own complaints, their excuses, their half-hearted apologies. Finally Cryos scooted his chair back and stood.

  “Fine!” he snapped. “If you’re all too lazy, or cowardly, or caught up in your bureaucracies to be Guardians, I’ll just do it myself! I will find their leadership, and their base of operations. Then I will entreat you one last time, in case any of you have come to your senses. If not then I’ll also dismantle the Garrison on my own! They’ll fall to my sword one at a time! And if it comes to that, I will be remembered as the Guardian who cared for the people!

  “And you all? You will be remembered just as you are now! Not for your efforts and sacrifices during the war. A new generation has already come of age since then, and they will only learn about that in stories. They’ll remember you now.”

  He strode for the chamber exit.

  “Cryos?”

  Cryos turned. It was Issa who had spoken. “Won’t you at least stay with us for the enclave? We’re to be here for two weeks, after all, and you just took the long way here. We’d still gladly have you, grumpy face and all.”

  The others murmured in agreement, but only half-heartedly.

  “I would stay,” Cryos said coldly, “if it were with brothers. With the men I once fought and bled with. With men who would listen to me. None of those men are here now.”

  He left without waiting for a response.