Two Years Later

Graduation night was supposed to be a time of revelry for the newly minted Guardians. A few of the instructors had called it the final night of their childhood, the transitory gap between worrying about scores and worrying about mission objectives. They were supposed to let loose entirely, drink to their heart’s content, partying until dawn. Most of the social mishaps that would be punishable by expulsion were forgiven that night, for it was touted as the last opportunity for the fresh Guardians to be free. 

Winter, however, had no desire for that sort of freedom. She’d been waiting for this day for as long as she could remember. Wasting even a second of her time as a full-fledged Moonlight Guardian felt useless to her. And so, while her sister and friends drank themselves silly at inns, Winter stood atop the city wall, looking out at the world beyond. A world that was finally hers for the taking.

The moon was bright and full that night, and a balmy, late-spring breeze wafted out from the west. Winter had snuck up here many times during her training, staring out at the fields of grass and copses of trees that stretched into the horizon. It wasn’t all that different from the fertile lands of Outer Pharus, where the farmland and livestock were kept, but there was a single differing trait that meant everything to Winter. Beyond that horizon, there were no walls. Only vast, unknown lands, trodden by less than five percent of Pharus’ population. And now, she could roam them at her leisure. She’d been deemed worthy by the council, and no longer was it illegal for her to leave these stifling constraints.

Winter brushed a lock of blonde hair from her face, then glanced down at the bottom of the wall. It was roughly a fifty-foot drop from here, a distance that would kill a normal human. Luckily for her, she was a Moonlight Guardian now, and silly things like height didn’t need to concern her. She pulled herself up onto the lip of the wall, took a deep breath, and centered herself. The opalescent Crest markings on her shoulders slithered their way downward, flashing across her skin like melted silver. They wrapped around her thighs, and she crouched, took another breath, and kicked off.

No matter how many times she’d practiced similar stunts, the sensation of falling through the air was always jarring. The wind whipped her hair backward, making the skin on her face pull taut as she plummeted toward the ground. She kept her mind clear, however, using her centered state to streamline her thoughts. No emotions, just action.

Coil. Inhale. Brace.

Land.

Dust puffed up around Winter’s feet as she struck the earth. The force of the impact sent a shiver throughout her Crest, but none of that momentum reached her physical being. It wasn’t a particularly complex maneuver, but the concentration it required caused a thin layer of sweat to break out on her forehead. Giselle would have called her reckless for pulling such a move, but Winter knew her own limits.

    Winter smiled to herself as she looked around at the new world before her. Judging by the moon’s position, she had about six hours of darkness left. A scant amount of time to explore, but enough to take the edge off her thirst for adventure. She set off at a brisk pace, glad for the thin-fabricked, form fitting battle suit that Moonlight Guardian recruits were issued. She’d brought no supplies with her. A pack would only slow her down. So long as she had her Crest, she would be fine. Besides, she didn’t expect to be gone for long.

    Having studied maps of the wilderness extensively, Winter knew the layout of Pharus’ surroundings for roughly ten miles in each direction. She’d left from the western section of the wall, meaning if she continued that way, she would eventually reach the Pharusian Mountains. Of course she wouldn’t go that far out, but there were a few large lakes between here and there, where she had the potential to run into some of the wilderness’ creatures.

    As Winter walked, she pulled a few sections of her Crest to her eyes, enhancing her vision and hearing. It was a minor tactic, one that they’d learned very early on in school, and came almost instinctively to her. Almost. Instructor Yerim had constantly warned that tiny uses of your Crest could cause high levels of fatigue when prolonged, and always had to be accounted for, especially when you were out in the wilderness.

    Winter wasn’t overly worried, though. The lands directly adjacent to Pharus were all regularly cleansed of demons by the senior Guardians, so much so that they were considered nearly as safe as the city itself. For seven of the ten miles she’d memorized, it was all rolling hills, tiny chunks of forest, and the