Nightfall

Drifting clouds carry dreams, but all I offer are nightmares. The obese panther appraised the cliff ledge where he stood. It gave him a clear view of the sea, and was sufficiently removed from the beach where he had left the two Thunderans who had served him. The gentle movements of the waves concealed the turbulence that lay hidden under the water, and matched the strong beats of his heart. It was a fine spot upon which to die.

He whispered. An image formed in the rectangular crystal he held with his right hand. It displayed Sky and Te'mira, who lay sleeping on a patch of grass that rose up from the beach. The sun had begun its descent to the west, coloring the sand beyond with golden light. It had taken only a little power to repair the scientist's torn clothing. It had taken more energy than he had expected to cleanse their recent memories of him, and the task he had set for them. Now the youngsters would only recall that on a summer day, they had fallen deeply asleep on an inviting beach.

But he could not replace their innocence and purity. When they awoke, they would sense a difference. I have opened doors for you today that you must walk through, Ba'sir thought glumly. For the sake of the world, I hope you can both forgive me. The image faded.

There was no doubt that for some time his power had declined. Yet, he had no choice but to move forward in his plan. The mage held aloft the crystal meant to save Third Earth. It caught the waning light, and shed rainbows on the rocks, and the sleeves of his saffron robes. His last sunset. The crystal would see to that. Once he invoked the magic to conceal Third Earth from the alien fleet that approached, he would dissolve into the silence he had long sought. Perhaps this time the gods would completely reject him. Then he would finally enjoy rebirth, and reunite with Myr'an'dra. "I am ready to begin again," he declared.

"I will make sure to grant your wish, mage," a voice answered in a tone that made the stone tremble. A towering white tigress in the prime of her life floated above him like a goddess of the upper air, her black mane and green robes whipping in the wind. She raised her right hand, and Ba'sir froze in place. The crystal flew to her left hand.

"Damn you, Cenatua! Must you always interfere," he railed, furious that she had caught him unawares.

"You have never accepted our equality! How can you still believe that you could trick a Guardian, Ba'sir. Qaletaqa and I knew what you planned, and allowed you to play out your game with those ill-used youngsters."

"And you will let Third Earth fall to slavers!"

"Ba'sir," Cenatua purred, "with your unique power added to mine, I intend to destroy them."

"But what of future threats! The world will not be concealed if you take this action."

"They are the last of their kind." She regarded him with a smile, her dark eyes sparkling with 800 years of mischief. "There will always be beings who protect this world."

"What manner of Guardian are you! You have always walked where you should not, Cenatua! Why have the other Guardians not destroyed you?"

Cenatua frowned as she floated to the ground. She circled him malevolently. "To answer that question, Ba'sir, you would have to talk to my mother, Ayasha. But she is long dead." She seized his hand, and the world dropped into blackness.

*****

Innumerable stars. He and Cenatua drifted above the alien fleet like interstellar ghosts. He missed his spaceship, and his travels as a merchant to various worlds. Making love against the backdrop of the universe was an added pleasure he had enjoyed with Myr'an'dra on their journeys. It had been so long ago that he had almost forgotten their life together. And that made him angrier at the white tigress who held him hostage.

*Let's visit, * Cenatua relayed to his agitated mind.

She never waited for his answer, not that it would have made a difference. Their insubstantial forms crossed through the metal walls of the largest vessel. They materialized before a group of beings whose sexless bodies were clad with iridescent scales of different colors. At the command of one whose scales were green, several beings opened their webbed hands, and unleashed bolts of light in attack.

Cenatua's protective shell of energy repelled them easily enough. The leader suddenly dropped to its knees grasping its temples in pain. Ba'sir heard, and to his surprise, understood the strange words that came across their mind-link. *Surrender the path of slavers,* Cenatua transmitted to the leader in its own language, *and your race will live.*

The hissing of rage that emanated from the being, and the coldness in it large silver eyes, indicated that it was not open to her suggestion.

*Then you all must die.* The daughter of Tir'shan never offered another chance.

*It is time, Ba'sir.* Locked together, twins of destruction, they rose above the fleet again. This was a race of slavers. He had always fought strongest against those who would chain others. He could not feel sympathy for their plight. And yet he was bound by the firm grip of a female hand. Cenatua was as guilty as they. If he could not call up his last reserves of power in rebellion, he would die a slave, not something he had ever anticipated.

His transparent form began to glow with anger. The Guardian gasped in pain. He had a chance of death on his own terms. She will have to fight for my power to save the world, he decided grimly. I will teach her the one lesson she has not learned in 800 years: Respect!

He released his power using the force of his mind. Tears sprang from Cenatua's eyes, but she was northern strong. With a potent curse centuries old, she trapped him in the crystal, as several ships shook with the exchange of their energies. That she followed him into the crystal on another word of power shocked him beyond reason. Their life forces combined. As he lost himself, he knew that a new light would appear in the sky over Third Earth.

*****

The stars formed a river above him. Ba'sir took three slow breaths. On the fourth he realized that he was alive. He sat up. Something else was amiss in addition to his lack of clothes. He now possessed a lean body made strong by the tiger and panther blood that coursed in his veins. His long black mane fringed with white covered his shoulders. He had not felt such a permanent solidity of his true form in ages.

Under a rising moon, a naked female paced. "Cenatua," he murmured to himself. He stood up, ready to confront the Guardian. What? He floated above the ground. "What in the seven hells!" he shouted in chagrin.

His cry alerted the white tigress. As she approached, she said, "It will take you awhile to get used to drifting about, Ba'sir. It will be one of the things I will miss the most about being a Guardian."

Her feet were firmly on the ground, and most surprising of all, a streak of white now snaked through her black mane, giving her the appearance of being older.

"What have you done?" he demanded.

"What I set out to do, mage," she answered defiantly. "That race will not trouble Third Earth." She chuckled, seemingly pleased with the thought of the destruction she had wrought. She casually studied her long fingers. "I am amazed that we both survived." She paused. "That was not planned." She circled him as if she ruled the world and everything in it. "Guardianship suites you, I think, Ba'sir."

"What!" the panther howled.

Fear, something he never expected her to show, crossed her dark eyes. Composing herself, she said, "It is an improvement, for your days were coming to an end, your magic unable to sustain you. You have gained more time, Ba'sir, and a better quality of life than you had. You should thank me."

His hands clenched in fury. Time was the last thing he wanted. He desired lost Myr'an'dra, and a life he had left behind ages ago. "How can I be a Guardian? I am no virgin vessel! And I can guarantee you that I will not relinquish the pleasures of the flesh!"

"I have never joined with anyone, yet I believe that purely sexual pleasure will not be denied to you in your Guardianship, Ba'sir. You are unique, the gods' final joke upon me." She paused, and said teasingly, "Of course, I could be wrong, and you will incinerate yourself and any lover in passion's embrace. "

She laughed manically, and that infuriated him more. Rocks flew up into the air. He could stone her to death if he chose. That he considered such an act filled him with revulsion. Power always corrupts, he thought sadly. The rocks gently drifted back down to the earth.

She became solemn. "Take your vengeance now upon me, Ba'sir, for I have no power left to fight you. Or you can watch me wither, and die." She ran her hand through her changed mane. A thread of regret wove through her words. "See the effects already. It will be an exquisite decline for time's grip upon me is accelerated. I hear my death with each heartbeat. I will be gone within a season." Saying no more, she knelt on the ground, apparently unconcerned about her dire fate.

She was always ready to die. The unbidden thought made him review all the times they had interacted over many seasons. He came to an astounding conclusion. She hated being a Guardian! He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Maybe the worst punishment the other Guardians could bestow was upon her was not to destroy her, he thought with unanticipated sympathy. Ayasha called her to a life in which she really never had a choice, despite her acceptance of power. He sighed, suddenly feeling exhausted. He had to admit that things would get boring without the feisty Guardian who fearlessly walked her own path.

With a measure of concentration, he drifted to the ground, then sat across from her. For the first time, he marked the sadness in her brown eyes, and felt ashamed. He opened his hands in a gesture of friendship. She returned a weak smile.

Before he could respond further, the air about them vibrated. "He comes," she whispered, then stood. Ba'sir quickly followed her action, and found himself floating once more, his irritation growing at the inconvenience of his new gift.

A ball of light materialized on the ledge. From out of the glow, stepped a shimmering being. The male clearly reached eight feet in height. His white fur was incandescent in it brilliance. His flowing mane stopped only at his ankles. His face bore no markings. The pleasing pattern of honey colored stripes that decorated his body disappeared under the covering of his red silk o'ba'ti. His long eyes were a remarkably rich amber that reflected the joys and sorrows of millennia. That he also possessed a pair of golden wings, whose tips almost touched the ground, was breathtaking. "Irri'in!" Ba'sir declared, guessing it could only be the Thunderan God of Knowledge. The sublime eyes regarded him with an emotion he could not discern. The being remained silent.

Cenatua said, "No, Ba'sir, you are wrong. His name is Surya. He too is a Guardian."

She had said the name with love and longing. Cenatua opened her arms as if waiting for judgement. Ba'sir suddenly found himself between Surya and Cenatua in protection. "Forgive her for destroying those who would enslave us!" he found himself pleading.

"With your help, Guardian, she transformed, not destroyed, that race to a better state of being," Surya said, his rumbling bass voice, and the unusual lilt of his speech, giving emphasis to his words. "The asira'savi tell me that they will bring many blessings to this galaxy."

Beyond speech, Ba'sir's mind reeled with the implications of what they had wrought, and with the revelation of those who had shown interest. He had assumed the asira'savi had long ago forgotten Third Earth.

Surya offered his right hand. "Cenatua, come with me to Kai'la'sa," he said, taking no further interest in Ba'sir's presence.

The white tigress bowed, then calmly walked around the mage, and into the arms of Surya. The great tiger folded his wings over her. They disappeared in a blinding flash, leaving behind only flickering specks of rippling blue energy.

Ba'sir floated alone under the moonlight.