Page 3 of Custodian

The fickle woman was already shaking her head, red hair somehow managing to shimmer even in the dull, artificial light of the dingy tavern. “Not my children; you wardens are my warriors, my guardians. Not my children.”

Mordecai felt his hand freeze midway to his mouth, the jar of clear liquid shaking a little. Wardens? How did she know that word? He thought back to his earlier ravings. He had been rather vocal, it was true, and he couldn’t quite recall if they had included him naming his brethren so overtly. But given he was a drunk Scotsman in a German-speaking tavern, he hadn’t exactly been worried about being overheard. He must have used the term unthinkingly. Deciding to fully embrace the moment as the strange woman across from him apparently was, he replied;

“Semantics,” he waved a hand.

“Semantics? No. Not at all. Big difference, as a matter of fact. You were tasked with the burden of maintaining the balance between the domains of the world. I created your ancestors, it is true. But I did not birth them. Not like my Custodians.”

Mordecai had to hand it to her – she sure knew her stuff. She had obviously been observing them for some time to overhear so much of their society. He was going to have to talk to his Order about the potential danger of a woman with her knowledge. But for now, he couldn’t deny he was enjoying the encounter.

“Your precious custodians of nature who have not been seen for a couple of years now. I thought they were always supposed to walk the earth?”

Her eyes darkened and for a moment, he swore he saw them swirl like a barely-contained tornado, before she spoke; “Circumstances change.”

Mordecai snorted, feeling his anger bloom rich and dark once more, “Convenient,” he spat.

Her back stiffened, shoulders straightening in a snap, before she sighed, the sound escaping her lips, regretfully. “I feel your pain, my warrior,” she murmured, softly. “I feel every pain – everywhere, and all of the time. How could I not? I am not cold or careless or selfish as you would so conveniently believe. I simply cannot control everything, everywhere, all of the time. I am all-knowing but not all-controlling.”

Mordecai shook his head, “You see, I find that hard to believe. How can the Mother of all creationnotbe in control of her creations?”

“Dana.”

“What?” Mordecai was surprised enough by the abrupt change in topic that he momentarily lost his anger.

The stunning woman smiled at him, humour evident in her clear eyes, “My name is Dana. If we are going to continue our discussion, I’d like you to call me Dana.”

Mordecai narrowed his eyes, “I thought you were a Goddess?”

She smirked, “Even Goddesses have names.” Dana leant back in her chair, appearing to be completely at ease. “As for your prior inquiry, there is one small thing I didn’t plan on when I created Nature and her protectors; evolution.” She laughed, the sound very self-deprecating yet still one of the most perfect sounds he had ever heard. “Ever changing and never ceasing transformation. Such a simple thing with the power for so much greatness. And yet, also so much cruelty. Watching nature morph from the smallest and simplest of organisms into the most intricate of creatures … it was like a dream. But, one of the first lessons I ever learned was that balance is a harsh mediator. The world demanded balance for such beauty and grace – pain, trials … sickness.”

He considered her words for a moment before realising what she was alluding to, “The chades.”

“Yes. The chades,” her voice was almost a sigh. “I didn’t plan on my guardians turning against their elements, and yet, it happened. The balance to evolution? Devolution.”

Mordecai barely even registered how drawn into the conversation he was. How he had all but stopped humouring the woman in front of him and was instead now conversing with her as if she truly was Mother Nature. “And the wardens who keep devolving? You’re telling me you can’t stop them?”

Dana shook her head, “Believe it or not; I truly cannot. Other than wiping them from existence, that is,” she added, almost as an afterthought.

“That sounds like a damn good plan to me,” his voice was gruff and Dana was already shaking her head once again.

“No. Balance. The scales must be balanced at all times,” she lectured.

Mordecai slammed his fist down onto the table, causing the jar to jump but not the woman, “Fuck the scales! Hundreds of wardens and paladins died today. Hundreds! What does that do to your precious balance?!” He felt the sick anger rising up within him once again and felt his paladins stir. He cast a stern look in their direction which had them resuming their seats but the frown on their faces told him they were paying close attention to the ongoing scene.

“Nature’s equilibrium has been disrupted, it is true. But not by me and therefore, I cannot be the one who balances it.” Her response was mild, as was her countenance, as if his palpable anger had no effect on her at all. She tilted her head, sending the red mass shimmering once more, as she appeared to think. After a moment, a small frown creased her forehead before she shook her head;

“No. The chades cannot be destroyed. Instead, they must be healed. They are a blight on our people – an infection. Infections must be cured, not eradicated.”

“Fine,” Mordecai gritted his teeth. “Cure them then.”

Dana frowned at him, impatience finally showing, “I cannot. I create and I destroy. This is my purpose. This is my balance. I created you to maintain nature.Evolutionhas created a counterbalance to that.”

“So create something to fix it then!” Mordecai shouted, hands slashing angrily through the air.

“I ...” Dana shouted right back, before abruptly cutting herself off. She blinked those intriguing eyes of hers, head tilting to the side. “What did you just say?”

Mordecai settled back against his chair, “You said you are a creator? Well, create something new. Something that can treat this new blight stalking the earth.”

“Hmm, that actually isn’t a bad idea,” Dana said, sounding interested and surprised at the same time.

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