CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX. Meeting The Guardians.

Arka's broad, black wings sliced the air as she soared over the city. 

The wind whistled in Arud's ears and he felt the same sense of freedom running usually gave him, only this time his own feet didn't need to push against the ground.

And he never grew tired. 

Arka gave a loud, screeching call that traveled over the sea of buildings, forests, farms, and thousands of dot-sized Gregors milling around on the ground far below as he pulled on her reins and led her away from the gigantic castle behind him, toward the cliff that towered over the southern end of the city. 

A massive, white, dome-shaped building gleamed like silver under the golden rays of the sun, sitting above the cliff, half hidden by tall spiketrees.

The building seemed almost intimidating to Arud now, as if it was trying to tell him he did not belong here. 

Arka wheeled toward the direction he drove her, descending for the cliff. 

Her graceful wings raised dust into the air and he felt a soft jolt as she brought them to the ground silently.

Arud clambered down from the flybeast, dropping to the earth by her side.

The surrounding trees whistled in the wind, bringing with it the scent of flowers, and the sickly sweet smell of the trees - as well as the presence of other Gregors. 

His beast stirred uneasily at this, knowing what was waiting for him inside the silvery walls of that dome.

This was the Guardians' Den, a place that had been passed down from one generation of Guardians to the next. 

Despite himself, Arud felt a warm rush of euphoria travel down the length of his body. He never thought he would see this place again.

Arka gave a shrill call just then, drawing Arud's attention to a massive, red dragon circling over them.

The scarlet-skinned reptile gave an answering roar in return. 

Its wide wings flung the wind against him as it neared the ground, and Arud had to hold one hand over his face to prevent the shower of sand from flying into his eyes.

When the wind died down, he lowered it and watched the beast land heavily on four powerful legs, pulling its wings in.

A familiar figure sat astride its back, patting the flybeast fondly.

"You still don't know how to land without blowing away all that's in sight?" Arud called over to the rider.

The figure turned to him, surprised. It was clear he had not noticed Arud until now.

The male had short, black hair, and wide powerful shoulders. 

The moment he sighted the Prince, he scrambled down from his dragon. 

Then, he just stood there, staring at Arud, a look of astonishment plastered over his face.

"Arud?" he said, finally speaking up, "is that really you?"

"The one and only," Arud replied, grinning. 

His best friend, Dutris - son of Carvor, the same Gregor that had fought by his side through every battle, walked over to him, covering the distance between them with slow, hesitant strides.

When he was merely a foot away from him, he stopped, gazing at Arud for a moment, his expression the same.

Arud wasn't expecting what happened next. 

Dutris' expression twisted from surprise to annoyance the next second and he growled, swooping in with the same speed one would expect from a swiftbeam Griffin on the hunt and swung his arm down for a punch in the gut that immediately forced a groan out of Arud's lips.

He doubled over, feeling the impact of the hit to his spine.

"That's," his friend seethed, straightening as Arud coughed violently, fighting to draw air back into his lungs. 

"For leaving without even saying goodbye!" 

Arud raised a hand. "Yeah, I deserved that," he conceded, wheezing.

He slowly straightened, smiling at Dutris, who still looked livid.

"You... you still hit like your fist's made of Lygon armour."

Dutris' lips curled in what looked like the beginnings of a snarl.

Arud hastily added; "I'm sorry, there was just so much.... I'm sorry."

His friend glared at him for a few minutes. "You ...bastard." 

The words held no hostility and before Arud could say anything else, the Guardian had pulled him in for a tight hug.

Arud returned the gesture, suddenly feeling like he was truly back home.

The scent of his old friend felt reassuring, like he was going to get back all he had lost on the day he left the Capital.

Dutris pulled back after what felt like hours, gesturing toward the dome. 

"Come on," he said, "you need to see the others."

'Yeah, really looking forward to that,' Arud thought, with a grimace.

'With my luck, I'll be able to leave this place with only two working limbs.'

Especially if the other Guardians decided to welcome him with a few more punches. 

He did not voice out his concerns to Dutris, however, just followed him silently.

Pushing the large double doors open, Dutris strolled in ahead of him.

Arud walked through walls he hadn't seen in so long. "This place hasn't changed much," he noted. 

He stared down at an open space that resembled an arena, except this one was much smaller.

This was the place where their team practiced their fighting skills. There were weapons and other equipment kept over the far walls.

But there was no one there. 

"Yeah," Dutris said softly, "things haven't exactly been the same since you left."

"So everyone keeps telling me," Arud answered.

Dutris moved to another set of double doors down the hallway.

"Just, don't take whatever they say to heart," he admonished quietly, before pushing the doors open.

Arud followed, his heart thumping against his chest with all the force it could muster.

The doors led to a wide, spacious room. 

The room was lit by floor to ceiling windows that stretched from one end to the other. The city stretched out beyond this, turned gold by the glass.

At the room's center was a large round table. 

The Guardians had been staring down at what looked like a three-dimensional map of the Capital - Arud could see the turrets of his sister's castle - when he and Dutris walked in.

They looked up the moment they entered.

"Hey guys, look who I found," Dutris called good naturedly, gesturing to Arud.

"You're late," one of the Guardians, a red haired male spat in response. Tenor - son of Lark. 

He had previously been Arud's second in command. 

"Yeah, yeah," Dutris waved him off, "I got caught up with something on the way. Get off my mane, Tenor."

"You're always caught up with something," a pretty she-gregor, who stood close to the table not too far from Tenor spoke up. 

The female, whose name was Gladys, eyed Arud curiously. Before she could speak however, another familiar voice came to him.

"Is that who I think it is?"

Arud turned to see Norvin, another one of the Guardians.

His arms were folded across his broad chest and he didn't exactly looked pleased to see him.

"Been a long time, Arud."

"I got a .... little busy," the Prince replied, doing his best to fight back a grimace.

"Of course," Tenor spoke, a sharp sneer on his lips, "busy saving his little Cursed One."

Arud's beast bristled at the tone. He had almost forgotten Tenor's ability to be effortlessly annoying, but he brushed it off.

"Oh come on, Tenor," Dutris said, "cut him some slack here. We're talking about his own son."

Dutris continued, shooting a glare at the other Guardians in turn, "he needed to keep his family safe. You all heard what happened ... and I'll be a dead needleworm before I believe none of you would have done the same in his place."

Gladys gave a delicate snort at this. "That doesn't justify leaving without a word."

Arud felt grateful to Dutris for the support, but he knew it would do little to convince the others.

The Guardians' second in command had conveniently chosen to ignore him, turning to jeer at the Prince instead.

"If that was so important, then, why'd you come back?"

"Didn't you hear?" Norvin responded, sarcasm dripping into his tone, "apparently, her Royal Majesty doesn't trust us enough to handle this thing on our own."

"So she calls him back, after he practically abandoned us?" Gladys said, incredulous.

Dutris sighed, the group was already taking the entire situation badly. 

Arud's heart stung. 

He'd known gaining their trust would be difficult after what had happened. 

He just didn't realize how difficult. 

"Ah," Tenor sighed, that sneer still on his face, "the benefits of being siblings with the Greater Leader herself."

"I'm sorry about what happened, okay? Really I am," Arud spoke up, the least he could do was apologize. "But there was nothing I could do to change things."

"You could have just let us know you were leaving," Gladys pointed out, "for starters."

"Oh come on," Dutris exclaimed, "you heard the guy, there was nothing he could do."

"That doesn't make it any better," Norvin retorted.

"You're right, Norvin," Arud told the Guardian, "it doesn't. Which is why I'm willing to make myself useful and help out as much as I can." 

Arud knew he couldn't just come back and take over again, he needed to prove to them that he could be trusted.

His friends seemed satisfied with his response. 

Dutris smiled. "Welcome back to the team."

The others remained silent, but at least there weren't any more complaints.

"Alright," Tenor continued, "let's get back to the meeting." 

Arud and Dutris moved closer to the table, giving a fleeting glance at the map in front of Tenor.

"Norvin .... anything?" 

The Guardian shook his head. "Nope. Scraped the entire forest from here to the city's gates. Nothing."

Dutris leaned in. "You've probably heard about how people have been disappearing recently?" he asked quietly while the others discussed.

Arud nodded.

"We have reason to believe they're actually being kidnapped. Why this is happening though we have no clue.

"How they manage to do this without leaving a trace? We think it might be some kind of wiping ability, something that erases all traces of a fight or struggle." 

"Which might actually be true," Norvin broke in, "I could sense some sort of dark energy where the victims were last seen. It felt like their talents were locked in or something, that would explain why there weren't any signs of an attack."

Tenor sighed. "Gladys, how's Meldevick doing?" 

"The old mane's a tough one," Gladys said softly. 

"Still unconscious, but Theris thinks he might make it." 

"Something happened to Meldevick?" Arud inquired, stunned. 

Meldevick was the last surviving Gregor of the former Guardians. He had taught Arud everything he knew as a Guardian.

Dutris exhaled, his voice heavy.

"Found him half dead, sprawled across the ground near his home. His granddaughter had simply vanished."

"I sensed the same energy trapping ability not too far from there," Norvin put in, "but that's it. No traces of an attack."

"Right now," Tenor said, his expression grave, keeping his eyes on the map.

"He might just be our only lead."