1.2.1

Threats to the Tranquil

“Come, Opal.” Astrid patted the soft bed of one of the younglings, a storybook in her lap. “If you cannot settle, I won’t be able to stay.”

The child in question, eyes alight even in the dim lamps of the eve, spun in her plain garment as if it were a ballgown of her nighttime tales. Though at Astrid’s words, she pouted.

Opal’s Channeler pendant peeked out from the girl’s fist, her small fingers unable yet to wholly conceal the crystal’s shape as she swung side to side in a delighted wiggle.

“Oh, but the dances sound so wonderful!” Opal exclaimed. “Do you think we shall ever have one?”

Astrid couldn’t resist a bemused grin at the little girl’s wonderment. Naïve enough to still believe they could someday be allowed such jovial festivities.

“In your dreams, maybe. If you let me continue our story.”

Opal swung herself back into bed. Beyond the small dormitory, the shadow of a woman in white armor passed by, in vigilant patrol.

Astrid seemed the only one able to pacify the excitable youngster. Though it did occasionally take some coaxing.

Opal pinched at the thin pale-grey fabric over her tummy. A nondescript tunic identical to any other in Endra. Astrid herself wore the same for as long as she could remember.

“Maybe Keeper could allow it. Just for a day!” Opal exclaimed. “I want a purple dress, with a light blue or teal sash! Like your eyes!”

The young one reached to pat Astrid’s cheek in enthusiasm, but the older Channeler caught her fingers and gently wiggled the girl back into the blankets.

“Close your eyes and imagine it while I read,” Astrid tried.

“And you should wear blue, too! Or silver! Ooh, or gold!”

“Opal.” Astrid measured her tone with a quick glance to shape stalking the hall, and Opal caught her meaning.

Finally, the girl sank into the mattress, resigned, if still wide-eyed.

Once settled, Astrid ventured a few strokes of Opal’s silken black hair to soothe her, then returned to her tale.

As instructed, Opal closed her eyelids to picture the scene. Astrid embellished a description of sparkling lights and enchanting music beyond what the storybook allotted. She could sense the joy it brought, and the more she lingered on dreamy details, the sooner Opal sank into a contented slumber.

Astrid did her best to exude serenity to the little girl as her voice steadily softened. Finally, when the smallest of snores drifted from Opal’s lips, Astrid carefully detangled herself.

With a little smile, she set the storybook on the nearby bedstand. For perhaps the hundredth time, she resisted the urge to kiss the girl’s head. Only sometimes she did allow herself so close.

But the presence of the Guardian just outside the door indicated it a poor idea. All warmth of the moment dissipated as Astrid made sure her emotions were well tucked away before she passed through to the hall.

“Astrid.”

The Channeler managed to avoid a groan as the Guardian she knew as Kelli commanded her attention.

“Yes?”

Kelli looked into the dorm, a mixture of reservation and disapproval sewn into the woman’s brow.

“You might proceed carefully there. You of all people know the risk of getting too emotionally bonded to another.”

Astrid frowned.

“She’s a little girl. My presence calms her.”

“And what happens when you become the only one who can?” Kelli posed. “Imagine what might happen to Opal if she were to break down in fits whenever you aren’t available?”

“I’ll always be here,” Astrid assured. “To make sure Guardians such as yourself do not lose sight of why the Sanctuaries exist, if not to self-moderate.”

Kelli’s eyes narrowed at Astrid’s defense.

Thanks to Astrid’s even manner, however, there showed no outward evidence of the Channeler’s growing irritation.

“Watch yourself, Hale. That’s all I’m saying. If keeping distance from your fellows proves an ongoing issue, perhaps it will be you that is transferred.”

Then, as if in threat, Kelli peered once more to where Opal rested in the dark.

“Then again. Maybe not.”

Nothing productive could be gained from the distaste bubbling in Astrid’s chest. She made to part before a flare of defensiveness bloomed into something she could not mask.

~~~

Three days after the strangers’ appearance everyone still swarmed the common areas in hopes of catching a peek.

Astrid made her way to one of the most favored courtyards, due to is position in the setting sun. But it remained more packed than usual.

The dorms and private quarters sat deserted while gaggles of friends clustered near the fountains and pools outside. They played games and chatted away aimlessly, but every time the doors to the adjacent buildings parted, all eyes darted like lightning to a rod.

In a corner shrouded in palm fronds, Terrell brooded alone. Astrid wandered to him and perched herself on the stone partition beside him.

“Heard anything?” he pried without preamble.

“No. I’ve been trying hard not to.”

“Pft. Figures.”

Astrid shrugged off his sullen mood and watched a few of the younger students mill around an ardent game of marbles.

“It’s going to take weeks for things to get back to normal. If it ever does,” Terrell pronounced when she didn’t respond.

“Of course, it will. That’s the point of this place.”

“Yeah, precisely!” he contended. “You don’t get it, do you? Astrid, this is the first time since we’ve been here that we’ve had visitors. Ever. It doesn’t matter why they’re here. In another thirty years, even if nothing else happens, we’ll remember this one time, this one potential interaction with the outside world.”

“It’s inflaming your imagination, that’s for sure.”

“I’m not the only one!” Terrell gestured wildly with one arm. “Look around you. Some of the girls over there are already daydreaming of being whisked away to a life of glamour and romance.”

He inclined his head roughly to a few teens across the way, their voices high while they conversed at rapid speed.

“It’s pathetic,” he continued. “And I can’t even blame them. This is as close as they’ll ever get to that fantasy. And they know it.”

Once, she and Terrell shared more in common, Astrid lamented. When they were kids, he escaped into books as much as she, and they loved talking about adventures and wondering about life outside the Sanctuary. But somewhere along the way, she grew into acceptance. And he grew embittered.

“The sooner things return to routine the better,” Astrid concluded aloud. “Those strangers are probably long gone by now. The Keeper wouldn’t want them here any longer than necessary.”

A shout across the cobblestone whipped heads around. Astrid peered, to see that in the middle of the hubbub, distressed by the drone of pent excitement, a familiar young woman wailed in exasperation.

“Get away!” Maya shoved erratically at those around her as she fought for air.

“If she doesn’t get herself under control she’s going to be in the tanks for a week,” Terrell muttered, disinterested. “Or worse.”

Others around the young girl retreated as Maya’s stress rose. Near the doors, Guardians shifted for clearer perspective of the spectacle.

A cue, Astrid resolved to reach her first. Before the guards felt the need to unleash a pulsar on the whole yard. She rose to her feet before Terrell could discourage her.

“It’s her problem, Astrid!”

She scrabbled her way to the growing commotion.

“Excuse me,” she murmured to each in her path until she reached the teen. “Maya!”

The girl spun to the sound of Astrid’s voice, her eyes wide with alarm.

“I don’t want to go back in the tank!”

“That’s why you need to control this.” Astrid stole a glance to the Guardians that advanced.

She turned on her heel to all within immediate radius. “Back up! Give her space!”

Once they staked some room, Astrid made herself a barrier between Maya and the others.

Again, she could feel the thickness of tension like a choking cloud between her and her fellow. She herded the girl into the corner, as solitary as she could manage, and coached her.

“Maya, listen to me. Close your eyes.”

Mist rose in Maya’s gaze as if on the verge of tears, but her lids sank shut.

“We’re outside. It’s an afternoon like any other. You feel that breeze?”

A shaky nod responded.

“Let it take it all away. All that excess, all that angst, just let it float away.”

The Channeler struggled. The air crackled. Astrid directed anxious fingers to the crystal pendant that dangled against Maya’s chest.

“You are light.”

“I am light,” Maya repeated on wavering lips.

White Guardian armor glinted in Astrid’s peripheral, and she raised an outward palm toward the motion.

“Please. She can do this.”

When no one approached further, Astrid tried again.

“You are light. The rest is temporary. This cage, this form, it doesn’t matter. Hold onto what you know, what you feel.”

“I hate this,” Maya whispered between them.

“I know,” Astrid confessed, “but you can use it. Don’t let it scramble you. You can do this. You can take it. You’re stronger than what’s happening to you.”

“I am light.” Maya attempted once more. Her voice sharpened as she focused, determined.

“Everything else will pass. The only constant is you. Feel you.”

The girl’s dark brows drew together in concentration. Her lips formed a thin line, pressed tight.

Maya’s crystal necklace bloomed in a fierce spark of light when it received the overflow of turmoil from its bearer. The light swirled together in a soft blue and white glow, brighter and brighter as Maya dispensed her vexation into it.

Until it finally faded to clear quartz again.

Silence fell over the courtyard by the time Maya’s lids flitted open, but her rapid breath, and the air around her, both diffused to normal.

Astrid felt her lips pull in a proud smile. “I knew you could do it.”

Maya relinquished a humble simper at her triumph, but her eyes rounded as she, and Astrid, became aware of a presence positioned behind the older of the two.

Astrid turned to find a dark Static in a charcoal uniform scrutinized her. Gasps pooled from the scene.

Frozen, Astrid fixed her eyes on the assessing expression of the strange man before her.

Behind him, two others, the entourage she’d witnessed days before, flanked the man’s sides. And beyond them still, Guardians buffered the visitors from the Channeler children and teenagers struck agape at the wordless exchange.

Startled, Astrid adjusted her stance to plant herself directly between the unknown man and the young girl now behind her.

But the edge of the man’s mouth twitched at the protective notion, and with the tiniest of nods, he seemed to reach a decision.

“This one.”