The Guardians find their way into both my books, The Druid and the Flower, and Ashima. I have contemplated writing a book that deals exclusively with them, and might just yet. Perhaps their power is not fully realized by the reader until book three, The Dawn of Magic, the last book in the series, to be released late summer.
Only one universe to mingle his thoughts in; his training had allowed where ten or twelve universes were the norm; some of the elder Guardians were know to survey even more than that. Yet, he could not ignore the vastness of this one—Andesia; he loved the name. Sure, he only had responsibility in one universe, but he got to enjoin as many as his connection allowed. Having been assigned only one Universe said much about his newness to the system; he recognized that it was meant to ensure his influence was lighter than the gravitational pull of an atom in the galaxy Heracon on a similar atom in the galaxy Multiplana, the ladder being a good seven billion light years to the other side. He would have to look up both measurements. Then again why bother? Lessons were over.
And what had all his lessons thought him about this piece of existence? Nothing of value, in his estimation; it was all theoretical. It was good to be done with all of that, and out observing. Still, he had to admit, he loved all the mindsets he had encountered; such a vast array of being. But why did he have to know all the limits of light in the twists of time? Or was it twists of space? Who thought this shit up? Whoops, a throwback to his prior existence. Not the voice of a Guardian. But light speed was all about the species who lived in the gardens; it had nothing to do with how he traveled or what his purpose was.
He admitted he loved all the color; he could create color by moving one way as the contents of a galaxy moved another; better yet was the attraction power of the super systems as they hummed their wonderful songs; yes, lots to be part of: the swirls, the vast silence of the constant motion, the massive collisions were inexplicable; once, he tried to reach for the vastness of it all and only made his Soulwell hurt; greater still were the seeds, and how they somehow found a way to plant themselves in places where impossibility stood on top of infinite improbability. He was a master student of design. It was why he was chosen. Everyone should have a vocation that allowed them to evolve as they chose.
No, he could not deny it was wonderful to be away from the lessons—done with the formal training: How many gardens in Andesia? Siateria had named the universe, this universe he was assigned to, his first, a small one, only some fifteen billion light years from start to finish. Oh, my, he had done it again, from start to start was the correct observation; so easy to ignore that space and time merely curved back on itself, an impossible illusion to those who lived here; a nonessential necessity to a Guardian such as himself.
A Guardian. Yes, he was one. Oh, he was wandering again. His teachers had mentioned that he had a propensity to do that now and again. A few million gardens, yes that was the answer to how many gardens there were on Andesia. Gardens were the only exception to the total attributes of matter. Each new spark of life, an expansion of the whole; not only an expansion, but a true addition, something totally unique and new—no wonder such gardens were so precious; and no wonder the need for expansion. Even the Collective had a task in trying to keep up. He should know the exact number of gardens. How silly. That kept changing too. He would look up the number none-the-less. Each garden had its own species, its own language, some with multi languages, each with a special set of survival skills, all bent on one goal: evolve—a flow from nowhere to forever.
He loved all the gardens he had visited so far. Of course he had merely been an observer; Siateria had taken the lead; it was she who guided his initial steps into this, his first responsibility—the expansion of Andesia. The last assignment was the last he would do under direct supervision. Siateria concluded it was time he undertake an assignment of his own. She had mentioned how impressed she was at how quickly he had pulled from the Collective to learn the language and culture of that assignment. She had not realized that to some degree it was a product of luck; that garden had come up in his studies, and he had been fascinated with the idea of a totally liquid garden. He should have told her.
A request from Siateria. He let go his observation link and went to facial. “What’s wrong? I can’t… no vis—”
“Take it easy. Let go the anti-matter. It has to be constant.”
“Yes, of course. Sorry.” He passed the anti-matter back to the void. And Siateria was there before him; or, he beside her. Well, not exactly. This was so different than his last existence. “I’m so sorry. I forget that nothing can be created or destroyed.”
“It’s okay, Peter. It takes some practice.”
“Peter? Will that be my name? Where am I going?”
Siateria smiled. And in that smile he knew the love she had for him was, so powerful and pure; even when he should have his ears clipped she delivered nothing but concern, understanding, and her gentle nature of teaching. No wonder she was set to move onto the Asendus Plane, he having no knowledge of what that Plane was all about; she accepted it was an essential part of her growth. She had been here even before Siateria existed, and knew every nuance of its expansion. Of course her responsibilities were much greater than his meager set. He had asked her many times what came next for her, hoping it would give some answer to his own longevity. She always answered the same way; we will see.
“They refer to their garden as Earth.” Siateria offered a visual for his inspection.” The disaster we envisioned has happened; total collapse with in excess of ninety-five percent of the population wiped out; and yes for a second time it did not end the growth there. It seems they are a resourceful lot, if a bit too skilled at killing themselves.”
“What’s my mission?”
“As always, to observe. Well, a bit more might be needed.”