I know that in the current world, there are many reasons to be uneasy. Between my usual work and training and the long weary work of tracking the Pestilences driving this pandemic, I have more than enough worries and no need to be adding more. And yet I can’t shake the thought that something is wrong here.
I am back on patrols again, as are most of the other Guardians, those who are not still on the hunt. It seems to be winding down at last, but we cannot rest until the Pestilences go back into hiding—if we stop now, they will just come back again. I am better off than most of my siblings, whose faces have grown haggard, their auras dim. It was this consciousness—this guilt, really—that brought me to speak to Orison this afternoon.
He was soul-weary, I could see, but he still smiled to see me. “Asa’el. You’re looking well.”
“Yes. I need to speak to you about that.”
He waited, and I had one last struggle with my spirit. Finally I said, “Why am I still permitted to look after Freya?”
I could see that the question surprised him, but I rushed on, because if I didn’t speak quickly, I might not say the words at all. “The Guardians are too few, and we have been worked too hard. I know that you and the other seniors have withdrawn most of the others from their charges, keeping them on patrol only to make the best use of their time. Yet none of you have spoken to me about Freya.”
“And do you want us to take you from her case, Asa’el?” he asked, amused.
I shuddered at the very thought. “Of course not, but…I feel guilty. Freya is less a case than a source of peace and rest to me, and I can’t help but wonder if my time with her would be better spent elsewhere. And—well, I was worried that you may not have made this demand of me because you thought I might not obey it.” It made my throat hurt to say it, but I went on, “If you and the others wish for me to leave Freya for a time, I will do so.”
Orison was no longer laughing, and he set a hand on my shoulder. “I am grateful for the sacrifice you are offering to make, and it will not be forgotten,” he told me. “But it will not be necessary. We know from hard experience that each of us can only be pressed so far, and so no matter how dire the circumstances, each Guardian is granted a bit of time during which they can rest their hearts. I have gone every day to the mountain, not to train, but just to breathe the free air there.” He put a wing around me. “So no, Asa’el, you will not be taken from Freya. You need her.”
I was so relieved, I couldn’t speak for a moment. “Thank you, Orison. You have set my mind at rest.”
And he has, certainly. I meant it when I promised Salathiel that I would obey my seniors, and I would have done as they asked in these difficult times, even if it broke my heart. But he is right—my time with Freya does restore me, and it makes me stronger and more ready for the dangers I face elsewhere.
I am glad, too, that there is a good reason for me to continue to look after her. There was a part of me that was beginning to worry that there was some danger threatening Freya that I had not yet seen. But that can’t be, surely—they would have told me so I could be ready for it. No, it’s I that needs Freya, not the other way around. May it always be that way.