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“Interesting. I didn’t know the Baron of the Reef was running a consignment shop,” the Exo attendant muttered to himself.
On the table before him lay a frayed cloak with a faded spider symbol on it. He moved on to carefully pick apart the rest of the Lightbearer’s items. A line of people awaiting their turn was wrapped around the building. Inspection times were now twice as long, but he didn’t care how much they grumbled about how he was inconveniencing them. There was increased warning of emerging threats toward the City and it was his job to make sure that nothing suspicious went unseen. The last thing he wanted was to be reprogrammed as a sweeper bot if a lollipop exploded.
“What business do you have in the City?” he asked.
“Just getting some supplies,” the Lightbearer replied. The icy beams of the Exo’s metallic eyes brightened as they peered into the individual’s golden irises, as if to expose more of him like headlights in the pitch black of night. He was never fully convinced of the answers he was given.
“Name?” he asked. The knobs of his fingertips hovered above the semi-transparent glass screen of a pad that magically appeared.The Lightbearer hesitated to reply. If the Exo had mechanical eyebrows, they would have moved towards the center of its machine skull in suspicion. “It’s policy. We need to have a record of anyone that enters the City. For security purposes.”
“Glint,” he finally said.
“Glint?” a voice said, with a robotic chirp at the end. A sphere emerged from his backpack to hover just over his shoulder. Its diamond eye blinked. Both the Lightbearer and Exo stared at the tiny drone, whose gaze bounced between the two.
“He asked for a name,” the Lightbearer said, narrowing his eyes at his companion. There was a warning there, one he’d voiced before. If you say anything further, I will lock you in a box for an entire day. The drone remained quiet, understanding.
“Yes, I did,” the humanoid attendant responded, tapping the small squares on the screen. “Glint what?”
“Just Glint,” said the Lightbearer. He was not a fan of the actual name Spider gave him, but nothing else stuck whenever he and his Ghost exchanged ideas. He fell silent, and his eyes swept over to the digital clock on the wall. It’d been over fifteen minutes since the inspection began. Truthfully, he wanted to tell the inspector to get a different job, but he didn’t want rudeness to prompt further investigation.
“You’re clear,” he finally said. “Your cooperation is greatly appreciated.” The Lightbearer couldn’t tell if his appreciation was sincere, since each Exo’s facial expression manifested in a strobe light that flashed in time with their speech.
The moment he retrieved his things, the person behind him dropped a massively stuffed bag onto the inspection table, reminiscent of a legend from a winter holiday humans used to celebrate several millennia before. The others groaned. They’d be there for a while.
“I was thinking it, too,” his Ghost began, “That took entirely too long. The Vanguard should do something about this.” The Lightbearer shrugged.
“I’m sure the increased security was necessary. If I lived here, I’d feel safer.”
“It’s not lost on me that you used my name instead of yours. May I ask why?”
“I’d rather the Baron didn’t have information on my coming and going. I don’t like being watched, and I’d like it to stay that way.” The drone tilted itself to the side in its own version of a shrug.
As he walked down the cobblestone path of the alleyway, the tinted window of the Lightbearer’s helmet tilted upward. Balconies hung below the windows of the old buildings, surrounded by uneven stacks of worn red and gray bricks. Clay pots pressed against the iron bars as if imprisoned, and emerald vines hung freely from the space between them, swaying gently in the ambient air.
The Lightbearer imagined himself in a similar state of simply being. If he had such a place that overlooked the activity in the City, he’d lounge at his window and people-watch, playing a guessing game in his mind of what errands they were running that day.
One person hung damp white linen neatly across the railing of their balcony to dry in the sun. At another, a couple was having a full-on make-out session, the lovers fondling each other in such a way that he felt he was invading their privacy by watching. He lowered his eyes and a gloom came over him, making him aware that he didn’t have such a connection. He didn’t even have a single friend, with the exception of his Ghost, who was a connoisseur of conversation.
He remained deep in the void of his thoughts as they reached the tunnel that separated the residential section from the bazaar, not hearing someone yell-
“Watch out!”
But the warning came too late.
A massive cart emerged from a side alley and collided with him. He fell to the ground, hard, and his helmet flew off, hitting a brick wall nearby. The freshly made halves wobbled violently. The Lightbearer lay in a daze, unsure of what just happened. When his vision cleared, he saw the palm of a massive hand being offered to him. He reached to grasp it with his own, and the man hoisted him up with little effort, as if he weighed as much as a small child.
“You know, you should really pay attention to your surroundings,” he said, “Things can be unpredictable here.”
“Thanks for the tip,” The Lightbearer muttered dryly in response. He stepped aside to let the cart pass and spotted the remnants of his only reliable source of facial protection. He retrieved them and tossed them into a nearby trash bin, atop of a pile of overcooked ramen noodles. The Lightbearer draped his hood over his head, sheltering his face beneath the shadow. Without his helmet, the passage of time seemed to accelerate, and he feared being spotted. He had to hurry to get what he needed and leave. But as he’d soon discover, again, he was too late.
On the opposite side of the plaza stood a young woman with lavender skin and ribbons of white Light weaving around underneath, like threads of ink in water, the same as his. She looked directly at him with her honey eyes, her face frozen in alarm—no, horror. Her arms were bent in a robot-like stance, and shards of a ceramic bowl lay at her feet, curls of ramen noodles woven between them. The steaming broth trickled down the veins between the lattice of bricks as it dispersed. Without regard to the mess, she simply turned on her heels and ran away. The Lightbearer’s eyes followed her until she disappeared around the corner.
“You have quite the effect on women, don’t ya, buddy?” said a nearby patron with a laugh. “And it is insanely difficult to scare Ellis.” The Lightbearer didn’t turn to face him.
“Who?”
The patron stared at him, his mouth frozen in a lesser smile as if he couldn’t believe the question. Gesturing towards the spot where the young woman previously stood and the shattered porcelain bowl remained, he repeated, “Ellis. The lead scout for the Vanguard.” The Lightbearer said nothing.
“You really don’t know who she is?” The Lightbearer shook his head no. The patron tilted his head to study the wordless man and the Ghost that hovered above his shoulder, whose blue eye was studying him in return. “Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve seen you around here. You a new Guardian?” he asked.
“He is,” his Ghost chimed in to reply. The Lightbearer’s hands slowly curled into fists. He wasn’t anticipating a fight today, but he’d defend himself if he needed to. The patron slid his hands into his pockets, rocking back onto his heels.
“Makes sense. Well, the person you scared off is Ellisandra Munroe. We all call her Ellis. Next to Hawthorne, she’s the best scout here. She’s only been here a year or so, but she’s a welcome addition to this place. She usually patrols the forest for unscrupulous characters trying to bust into the City.” The patron looked intently at the Lightbearer as he said “unscrupulous characters”.
“Many have tried, but they don’t get past Ellis. I heard she was in Mara Sov's Queen's Guard, which explains why she's so good at her job. Funny, she makes me feel safer than the Vanguard does,” the patron added with a grin. “She’s also exceptionally kind; not one trace of the ego I often get from you Guardians. Since you’re new, you should introduce yourself sometime. Maybe she’ll let you tag along with her in the wild. Might learn something, Guardian.”
With a parting nod, the patron left. The Lightbearer’s fists relaxed and he sighed, relieved that the interaction was a harmless one. He wouldn’t be introducing himself at all to this Ellis, but he was glad to know her name. Pulling his hood down more over his eyes, he went to the broken bowl and knelt to pick up the pieces, mentally noting the different ingredients. He frowned at his reflection in the glossy pool of broth. Since it was his face that put her into a state of shock, he felt somewhat responsible for the mess she left behind.
After he finished cleaning up as much as he could, the Lightbearer approached the counter at Spicy Ramen Shop and raised a hand to get the cook’s attention, who was stirring a large pot of simmering broth over a low flame. She pulled a notepad and pen out of her apron pocket, waiting patiently for his order.
“I’d like two of the spicy pork ramen to go, please.”
* * *
That night, the Lightbearer sat by a small fire, an empty container with Spicy Ramen Shop's neon bowl and chopsticks logo beside his feet. He always appreciated the heat that emanated from the dancing flames, as it was his only comfort on the coldest days.
Perched on his shoulder, his Ghost said, “That was a nice thing you did today, Guardian. Not many would take it upon themselves to buy a replacement lunch for the person that ruined their own.”
“I felt bad,” the Lightbearer replied, feeling dispirited. Since that afternoon, all he could think about was the expression on Ellis’ face, which was opposite of the fearless scout the patron made her out to be. He submerged himself into his thoughts again, sorting out the questions in his mind. What puzzled him was the fact that out of all the people that saw his face, she was the only one that fled from him. Most resorted to beating him senseless or killing him outright. At first, he thought she went to find someone to do one of the two, but the look in her eyes told him otherwise. He saw a deep sorrow in those darkened amber irises that matched his own on most days. This was someone that knew what it was like to be truly alone, like him.
The Lightbearer stretched out his long legs, leaning back against a large boulder. He closed his eyes, inhaling the earthy incense of burnt wood and ash. The patron’s words came to his mind. You should introduce yourself. He nearly did. Earlier, he stood motionless outside her door, knuckles inches away from the surface. But he didn’t want to send her into another state of shock, so he simply knocked on the door and disappeared. If they did cross paths, maybe then he’d do it. Just as he settled into a deeper relaxation, a twig snapped nearby and he bolted upright, heart pounding, senses heightened in anticipation of danger.
“Look alive, Guardian,” his Ghost said. The irony of that statement. The Lightbearer scurried into the dark woods behind them, reaching for a small knife tucked into a sheath on his thigh. It wouldn’t kill someone immediately, but it would buy him time to run for his life. He watched as a hooded figure came into view, lit orange by his fire. He crouched down into a defensive stance, tightening his grip on the knife handle.
A pair of lavender arms reached up to remove the hood, revealing Ellisandra Munroe, the woman that saw him in the bazaar. His heart’s cadence slowed, but he remained hidden, safely obscured by the dark forest.
“I know you’re there,” Ellis called out, “I just want to talk.” Her voice was as musical and soft as a dove’s. Dark, curly hair sprung outward in disorganized spirals, unencumbered by the force of gravity.
“I don’t know about this, Guardian,” his Ghost whispered. Ellis held up her hands in an attempt to quell their fears.
“If it comforts you to know, I don’t have any weapons on me,” she added. “It’s only me.”
Although the Lightbearer still held onto caution, he believed her. His golden eyes flicked over to his Ghost’s singular blue one. “I can always bring you back,” it chirped in support.
The Lightbearer reached into his pocket for a bandana, securing it around the bottom half of his face.
“Stay here,” he whispered to his floating companion. “Don’t come out unless I tell you to. Or unless…” He trailed off and his Ghost nodded in understanding. Or unless I die.
The Lightbearer emerged from the darkness, and Ellis’ breath caught in her throat. One corner of her trembling lips turned up into a smile, a small crater appearing in her right cheek.
“Hi,” she whispered.
“Are you Ellis?” he asked. She blinked in surprise, as if that was the first time she’d heard her own name.
“Yes,” she replied.
“How’d you find me here?”
Ellis’ smiled widened, the dimple in her cheek deepening. “I’m a scout,” she said. “It’s what I do. I’m sorry to interrupt you.” He shrugged.
“Just some minor thoughts.” Thoughts of you. Their eyes held for a moment, then the Lightbearer added, “Not to be rude, but why did you seek me out? It never ends well for me when someone does.”
Ellis bowed her head, dejected. “I know,” she said, before her gaze returned to his. “But you don’t have to be afraid of me,” she said, taking a step forward, “I only wanted to see for myself that it was really you.”
The Lightbearer didn’t back away as she approached. He didn’t get the sense that she was trying to lure him out in order to kill him. She stopped in front of him, and he remained still, breathing in the scent of coffee and vanilla that wafted from her hair.
“May I?” Ellis asked, pointing to her own face. She wanted him to remove the bandana. His fingers tightened on the knife handle again, unaware that he’d loosened his grip.
“Why?” he asked, “What do you want with me?” As if his question frightened her, Ellis stepped back and turned away from him. Before she did, he saw the storm brewing in her eyes.
“This is insane,” he heard her whisper to herself, “Why am I doing this? He’s gone.”
So that’s why she looked for him. Or rather, the man he used to be. His previous identity was a plague upon his life. Although his Ghost wouldn’t tell him anything about who he was before he became a Guardian, he deduced that he was a despised person based on the hostility other Guardians showed towards him. Each day he grappled with the fact that he likely resided in a terrible person’s body, despite wanting to join the fight to preserve humanity with the new life the Traveler granted him. Would his face ever cease to be a reminder of a tragic past?
Ellis’s sniffles resurrected him from his thoughts and he snuck a glance to see her drying her glittering eyes with her cloak. His hand twitched, itching to wipe those tears away himself, to take responsibility for the pain she felt in the same way that he cleaned up the pieces of the broken bowl.
“I’m sorry,” she said, “I didn’t think I would react like this.”
“It’s okay,” he said, “Are you alright?” Ellis nodded and a joyless smile appeared.
“I’ve been seeking closure for so long that I didn’t stop to consider whether I was ready for it. I’m sorry for bothering you. There was no ill intent on my part, I promise.”
Ellis turned to leave, and without thinking, the Lightbearer leapt over the fire and reached out to grasp her shoulder. She stopped immediately and stared at the hand that rested there. She knew that hand like she knew deer prints in snow. It was the same hand that caressed her cheek so tenderly and wrote words of affection on the canvas of her bare back.
He pulled his hand away when he realized what he’d done. Why did he grab her shoulder like that? What was wrong with him?
“Forgive me. I didn’t mean to do that.”
Ellis peered into those luminescent eyes that burned with so much passion before, now much less so. “Didn’t you?” she asked. She reached up to gently trace her fingers over the worry lines on his forehead and the deep arch of his brows. But he didn’t pull away. Although it was a cold autumn night, he felt the warmth of summer sweeping across his skin. He got so lost in the feeling that he didn’t notice when Ellis pulled his bandana down, exposing the rest of his face.
She gasped, and her eyes welled up again, the previous storm replaced by a drop that rolled down her cheek, like a rivulet. The Lightbearer stood like a statue in this moment of vulnerability, anticipating what she’d do next. Now that she’d fully seen him, would she become resentful?
His question was answered when she held his face in the soft palms of her hands. “I missed you so much,” she whispered tearfully, her breath a gentle breeze on his lips. “I thought I’d never be able to piece myself back together.” As their foreheads touched, the Light beneath their skin seemed to whirl in a synchronized dance.
The Lightbearer closed his eyes and found himself leaning into the gesture. In the moment, he hadn’t the heart to tell her that he wasn’t the person she missed, nor did he know the extent of their relationship, because in this very moment, he was overwhelmed by how good and loved and safe he felt. Even if it was meant for someone else, for just this one moment, he wanted to receive the emotional connection that he craved from someone who didn’t hate him. It’d be the only moment that he didn’t hate the person whose body he inherited.
But soon this sense of guilt came over him and a voice in his head told him that he had no right to have what belonged to another. With great effort, he reached up to gently remove her hands from his face. He turned away from her and ran his hands through the charcoal grey strands that were swept to one side. Concerned, Ellis followed him.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
The Lightbearer continued backing away to keep distance between them, and it killed him. He longed to feel her skin on his again, but not when she thought of him as someone else. Perhaps it was time to give her the closure that she needed.
“I’m sorry for the pain you’ve had to endure, Ellis. But I’m not the man you are looking for. I don’t know who I am. I woke up in this body and I have no memory of anything before that.” Ellis frowned and tilted her head, puzzled.
“What do you mean?”
“Ghost,” he called. His Ghost emerged from the forest and appeared over his shoulder. Ellis’ mouth gaped, her eyes widening at the sight of it. When they returned to the Lightbearer’s, she finally saw the empty shell that he was, with all traces of his former self gone. And he regretted his honesty.
“Oh,” she said, with realization. Ellis sank to the ground. He stayed on the opposite side of the fire to give her space to mentally sort out this revelation. “So that’s how,” she finally said after several quiet minutes, “I didn’t want to believe it when I first saw you, but it makes sense now.“
When her breathing slowed to a more natural rhythm, Ellis asked, “So you don’t remember me? Or us?” The Lightbearer shook his head. She looked away, slightly flushed.
“God, I feel completely ridiculous coming all this way to pour my heart out to someone who is still dead.” Fixing her iridescent golden eyes on his own, she asked, “So if you’re not him, then who are you? What do they call you?”
“Crow,” the Lightbearer said. He pronounced his name with such ease, finally taking ownership of it.
Ellis gave him a small smile. “It’s a good name. If I were a Guardian, I’d probably name myself something similar. Like ‘The Hawk’ or ‘The Falconess’. I’m always on the watch, looking over the City and sometimes guiding refugees to safety within its walls.”
“I think Ellisandra is a very noble name.”
“He thought so too,” she said, referring to her dead lover.
“I’m sorry,” he said, apologizing a second time. Ellis shook her head.
“Don’t apologize. Not for him. He should have done that before he-“ she stopped herself from saying too much, lips twisted into a scowl, “He should have made amends while he was here. But he didn’t, and that is not your burden to bear.”
The Lightbearer wished he could agree with her. But the painful truth was that in this body, he’d be burdened by it for the rest of his countless lives.
“Maybe he tried to do that when he was with you.” He watched her as the sorrow grew in her eyes again. “Maybe those moments he shared with you were ones he was afraid to share with others because he was afraid it wouldn’t be as meaningful.” Ellis swallowed the lump in her throat.
“That is one of the most poignant things I’ve ever heard in my life. It almost sounds like a confession,” she said with a sigh, turning her gaze up to the shimmering stars above them. “I’d like to think he’s up there somewhere. Shining as bright as the light he brought into my life.”
The Lightbearer watched the many expressions come and go from Ellis’ face as she spoke about the person of his former life; expressions ranging from confusion to hope, from regret to pride and from disappointment to love. But for him, the new Guardian with a clean slate, she just had a dimpled smile.
“I should go,” Ellis said, rising to her feet. “But, before I forget…” She turned away and disappeared, then returned with a medium package in her arms. “This is for you,” she said, holding it out to him.
He took it cautiously. “Open it,” she said. He dug the tip of his blade in the corner of the tape and sliced it open. In it was a headpiece that looked like it had the face of a wolf on it. He picked it up and studied it. “Like it?” she asked.
“I do.” He looked up at her. “But why are you giving this to me?”
“I saw what happened at the bazaar. I haven’t used this helmet in years, but I figured you’d need it more than my vault would. I have lots of items that I don’t have need for anymore that I’m happy to donate to you if you want them. I understand that it’s dangerous for you, being who you…look like.” He looked away, suddenly shy. It relieved him to hear someone acknowledge his struggle to exist with his physical identity.
“There’s more,” she said, gesturing to the box. He reached inside and retrieved a few bundles of clothing and some non-perishable food. He also saw a sleeping bag, a large canteen and matches. “I wasn’t sure what your living situation was, but I figured out pretty quickly that you weren’t in the City. It’s not much, but I hope it helps.” He looked away, downtrodden.
“I appreciate your kindness, Ellis, but why don’t you hate me like everyone else?”
Ellis sighed. “I did hate you. Or rather, former you. I had to leave my own home when they found out about our relationship. I wasn’t sure I’d even be welcome here.” She caught a glimpse of his Ghost seemingly glaring at her with an intense blue glow of its robotic eye.
“I can’t say anything, I know,” she reassured the drone before turning back to the Lightbearer, “But I guess, in a way, seeing you made me feel like we had a second chance. That maybe he had forgiven me for leaving. But since he no longer exists, I suppose the only way for me to move forward is to forgive myself instead.” She stood and pulled her hood over her head, giving him a parting smile. “Take good care of yourself, Guardian.”
“I will.” She turned to leave, then paused when he said, “It’s a lot to ask of you when you’ve already given me all of this, but—” he trailed off.
“Yes?”
“Could we meet again? I’d love to learn to scout, and it’d break up these long periods of solitude. I’ll wear my helmet the whole time if it’d make you feel more comfortable.” His gaze went to a stray thread on his pants that he’d been fidgeting with. “But if you’d rather not, I understand.”
“Sure. But you don’t have to wear your helmet. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t be yourself around me.” He felt relieved. If she said no, he wasn’t sure what he’d do. Other than with his Ghost, he didn’t have companionship as a new Guardian. He craved friendship. Acceptance. A way forward. “Oh, before I forget, thank you for the ramen. How’d you know I liked the spicy pork?” He blushed.
“I guessed from the ingredients strewn across the floor.” He and Ellis and shared a hearty laugh. It was a sound that lifted his spirits in a way he never thought possible. Had he gone so long without such joy?
“Thank you.” She left, disappearing into the night. When he heard the roar of her sparrow’s engine fade into the distance, he released a long sigh of relief. As the Lightbearer rifled through the things she brought him, he was overcome with gratitude. That man in the bazaar underestimated her kindness. She was the most generous person he had ever met and he could finally show himself without fear of repercussions.
Wearing the face of the person she loved and lost, he was glad that a lost love granted him a new friend.