The Lost Guardian

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic

the story of the last hope of humanity, struggling to continue a seemingly never-ending quest.

Submitted: July 20, 2018

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Submitted: July 20, 2018




The Lost Guardian


He wandered aimlessly across every corner of the world, through cracked mountain ranges, twisted forests and the endless eerie plains of the defeated Earth. It had felt like a lifetime since his quest began, it was so long ago and so much had changed that it seemed like he was remembering another life entirely.

Having traversed across this world for more than 100 years, it's grand feeling of size and vastness had eroded, in it's place festered a notion of confinement as the world seemed smaller and smaller with each passing day. The notion struck his mind again as he reached a narrow passageway that led through a bleak dying forest, decorated with withering trees and damp piles of decaying leaves.

“We......I've been here before” he quietly muttered to himself, recalling a memory of traversing through this place decades ago when it was still invigorated by the splendour of life.

In those days he would be wary, alert and ready to battle at a moments notice, but time was cruel and even his immortality could not spare him from it's terrible wrath. He stumbled slowly through the seemingly lifeless forest, no longer considering or caring about what dangers could possibly lurk in the shadows.

For him, his drudging steps drowned out the faint sound of other livelier steps coming closer and closer towards him, the clinks of his exhausted armour faded out the sound of sinister weapons being drawn and the seemingly endless paining memories of past failures distracted him from an unseen attack.

The crushing of a thick twig behind him ripped his attention away from his thoughts and he abruptly turned to see what other things had come to disturb him, but it was far too late. He was suddenly shunted backward and he grunted and groaned as he slammed into the tough surface of the ground beneath him. Before he could stand fully, shapes and shadows moved in the corner of his eyes and he felt three sharp punches strike him across the face one after the other.


He stumbled back, wildly flailing his fists around trying to strike at the fast specks of darkness that fluttered around him, all of them missed and another powerful blow knocked him sideways and he crashed into the dirt beneath him with another soft groan.

He grunted and snarled, frustration and rage filling his body. “Where are you!” he shouted into the emptiness of the dead forest. A speck of darkness caught his attention and for a split-second he could see a blade being flung towards his face. He meekly leaned back and the blade grazed his cheek, leaving a bloody cut that besmirched his grizzled beard with a taint of blood.

Staggering backwards from the bloodied attack, he quickly reached for a pouch secreted within a small pocket inside his derelict set of armour. He hastily grabbed it and with both hands threw it down onto the ground below. The pouch collapsed and from out the gaps of the unwoven fabric erupted a thick fog-like gas that rapidly expanded everywhere.

Concealed in the depths of the flowing gas, he sprinted madly in a random direction. His fear betrayed him however and as he was frantically looking behind him for any signs of the mysterious attackers he tripped, slipped and slid down a steep forest covered hill, falling into the murky greenery below.

The fog from his pounce ascended into the dim sky, it infused with the clouds and after a few strange flashes of cyan light, torrential rainfall began to rain down on the graveyard-like forest below. The once lifeless and silent forest was permeated by a small sense of life as flowing water danced among the decaying plant life seemingly looking for anything that would savour it's droplets.

Inside a small cave, hidden within a plant-blanketed nook on the hill, Droplets of the rainfall had accumulated into a sizeable pool of muddied water on the cave floor. A concoction of mud and brown water swirled for a moment until it was suddenly further tainted by thick droplets of blood, as the last protector of humanity washed his bloodied face.

His blood soaked hands were shaking with fear and his eyes would routinely glare at the cave entrance whenever the littlest sound was made outside. Another snapping of a twig held dominion over all his attention, and he remained perched over the pool like an ancient statue.

The swirling pool of water calmed and steadied, forming a flat mirrored surface. Then his attention finally detached from the potential enemies outside and he peered into the water to the sight of a far greater and deadlier enemy.

“It's time for this to end, don't you think?” he heard his reflection say.

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