Exule
2014-08-24 |  | OS - Dormant |  |
Dormant
Location: Neo Sanctis, Temple of the Kal Zul
Aislin could not sleep. Her mind was a raging tempest. She could feel that something was amiss in the galaxy.
Aislin’s form glowed with a pale blue color. All Guardians had a glow. Some were brighter than others and some differed in color. If a Guardian ever wished to sneak up on someone in the dark, they would certainly have a difficult time of it. Aislin was considered to be beautiful among the Guardians, though Aislin herself had never thought as much for Guardians despise vanity. In keeping with this cultural outlook, braggarts and narcissists are shunned from Guardian society. Like all Guardians, Aislin had no legs. Her torso ended abruptly and was continued by a swirling vortex of mist. The Guardians had no need of food for sustenance anymore, but they did require the presence of water. From the water the Guardians draw the strength to maintain their corporeal existence. Without water, the swirling mists would begin to dissipate, and so too would the Guardian.
The Guardians were not always like this. Following the great Marauder-Guardian War, the Guardians had been transformed. No longer occupying an entirely physical form, the Guardians had also acquired an ability to sense the loss of life throughout the galaxy. The last few weeks had been particularly grim. Aislin could feel the pangs of death roll over her like tidal waves recently. Surely the Elders could sense it too. Despite this, no effort had been made to intervene with these galactic affairs. The Guardian race had become introverted ever since the devastating war had all but left their civilization in ruins. Aislin had been taught that her race were once called the ‘Guardians’ because they maintained peace and justice throughout the galaxy. Now the Guardians hide in a corner of the galaxy, still licking the wounds sustained over a millennia ago. |
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Exule
99+ day(s) ago | Even more foreboding was the rumored messiah among the Marauders of the Centauri sector. Guardian scouts had secretly been tracking the rise of this Marauder sect. Recent reports had come in stating that the messiah had managed to unite all of the Marauder tribes in Centauri. These united tribes had engaged the Terran Imperial Navy in direct combat and won. Not only did they win the battle, but the Terran fleet was decimated. The Marauders hadn’t beaten the Terrans this way since their liberation from Terran enslavement a few hundred years ago.
Though the newly unified Marauder tribes of Centauri posed a possible threat, they were actually the least of the Guardians’ concern. The Guardian race had a particular interest in this messiah because he promised the return of the Dark Marauders. In fact, rumor had it that the messiah himself was a Dark Marauder claiming to be Bastille, the original leader of the Marauders.
“Obviously just rumors,” Aislin said aloud to herself. “That would make Bastille more than a thousand years old. Not even Guardians live that long.”
Still, if the Dark Marauders really did return, the galaxy would be in peril. The Guardians would fight valiantly, Aislin had no doubt. From the historical archives, Aislin also knew that, unlike the Marauders of today, the Dark Marauders were virtually unstoppable by all but the powers of Kal Zul artifacts. One such artifact was unleashed upon the galaxy by the Guardians on that fateful day long ago as a last-ditch effort to defeat Bastille and his Marauder fleets. This artifact was responsible for transforming the Guardians, robbing them of their physical form and snuffing out countless lives across the galaxy.
Tonight Aislin hovered not more than a room away from that dreadful artifact that had claimed the lives of so many. She shuddered at the thought of needing to activate it once more.
“I hope that time never comes,” she whispered. |
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