The Guardians Keep

• Kyra Domrow, Grade 12, Bowen State High School
• Short Story
• 2015

Excellence Award in the 'Read Write Repeat 2015' competition

The night sky shone with a wonderment only achieved by the wishes of children. Every fallen star held its own magic that illuminates its space in the universe, and to every falling star, there was a guardian. That guardian kept the dream alive, made it thrive in times of desperation, made it visible in the darkness, provide a goal worth attaining. Call them what you will, guardian angels, fae or even the soul of a loved one, it doesn’t bother them, as long as you wish, they're there; and it was by sheer chance that on this night, a guardian found their calling. The youngest by at best a century, Raphael, sat in one of the few gaping holes in his home’s exterior, comfortably settled on a crooked ledge. He peered out over the lively forest, alight with fire flies, willow-of-wisps and other creatures, all busy to complete their tasks. He watched as they buzzed past in such a hurry that not one word was exchanged in their daily lives; it was just them and their star. Raphael found it impossible to find acceptance in the duty he was sure to have; after all, it was by guardian code that contact was never to be made, something he could never abide by. With a final glance he turned back to his interior. Like all other guardians his home was small, carved into an ancient tree, with little to fill the space. Of course he had a bed and an area to prepare food, but what came standard in every home was a seeing glass. The mirror was the only tool a guardian could ever require. It found the wish most suited to the guardian and it allowed them to see the child without the need to be with them. It was the cheaters guide to a successful guardian. Raphael sat on a cushion and tapped the mirror gently. Light glowed from its centre and suddenly colours appeared and disappeared; every colour being a fallen star that had a wish connected to it. Every night Raphael did this, and every night was the same, having nothing to find. After a while of flowing colours he was ready to give up until the mirror stopped and a blue orb engulf the glass. He watched as the light slowly revealed a girl, older then most who dared to wish on a star but not old enough to be considered crazy. She was sitting on a roof, gazing up at the sky. Her white hair was tangled and purple marks rested on her arms. There was no wonderment in her glazed blue eyes, no smile but a blank face, only with the presence of a silver tear sliding down her check. The flash of the star lit her eyes alight and in the blink of an eye she made her wish.
“I wish for better…” she whispered before her image disappeared; and it was then that Raphael found his star.