[ComicGuy89]

Chapter 2: An Uncommon Opportunity

It would have been a quiet afternoon at Beacon Beach any other day. However, today, the pearly sands were witness to a frantic battle taking place.

Nadia swung her right arm and landed a punch on the hellbeast’s snout. The beast flinched, surprising her; she did not expect to make any sort of dent at all.

Emboldened, she then took a swing with her left arm, but the beast dodged to the side. She lost balance, tripped and fell, grabbing hold of the beast’s tusks.

Nadia was staring straight into the beast’s eyes. Blood red. She gave a nervous chuckle.

“This isn’t as easy as it looks, is it beastie?”

The beast snorted and growled.

“What are you doing? Stop wasting time, every second counts!”

Nadia turned around to see the cat waving its arms angrily. She suppressed a squeal of delight.

Sensing opportunity, the beast swung its head to the side, pulling Nadia along with it. Though she held on to its tusks as hard as she could, the beast tossed her off with a mighty tug. With a loud thud, she crashed into the sand and winced in pain. She had barely got up when she felt a mighty force hit her right in her abdomen: the beast had charged headfirst and was now a living battering ram.

“Ow!” she cried as the force sent her flying into the water with a loud splash. Salt water went in her eyes, stinging them. She cringed.

“Some powers these are!” complained Nadia. “Shouldn’t I get some form of invincibility or something?”

The words had barely left her mouth when she noticed that the pain in her abdomen had already subsided. Looking down, she saw no wounds, no blood. Even her barista’s vest was undamaged.

“Huh, I stand corrected.”

“LOOK OUT! LOOK OUT!” screamed the cat.

Nadia was paying so much attention to her lack of damage that she didn’t hear the loud splatters of water that were drawing increasingly near to her. Without warning, she found herself heaved up by the beast’s tusks. Not again. It swung again, this time at the direction of the beach.

The cat had to scramble out of the way to avoid Nadia falling on top of it.

“Some fighter you are!” it shouted. “Fight back! Fight back!”

“It’s not giving me a chance to!” said Nadia as she got up, rubbing the arm that had cushioned her fall.

“Dodge for now!” said the cat. “Now! NOW!”

And she did; the beast missed Nadia by a hair. Momentum kept it going for a few more metres, but it managed to come to a halt. Unperturbed, it turned around and braced itself for another charge.

Nadia had had enough. This was not only painful, it was embarrassing.

“Oh no you don’t!” she shouted, face flushed red in anger.

With one foot firmly on the ground, she pulled her other foot back. As the beast came within reach, she kicked strongly in the direction of the beast’s snout.

Not forceful enough. She went flying again.

“What is it with this thing?” she shouted, picking herself up from the ground yet another time.

“You can’t stop it just like that!” cried the cat. “Use your weapon.”

“How? What weapon?”

“Your Garde weapon! You need to produce your own. Think of one, quick!”

How was she supposed to think, with the beast charging towards her again? It was now or never. Nadia shut her eyes tight and focused her thoughts. Something heavy materialize in her hands. No time to lose, no time to even look at what it was. Holding the weapon like a bat, she swung it hard at the beast. This time, it was the one sent into the air.

The beast smashed into a large rock with a loud bang, cracking it into a few pieces. Nadia braced herself, watching to see if it would attack again, but it did not get up; the beast was knocked out for the moment.

“A giant spoon?” asked the cat incredulously. “Of all the things, a giant spoon?”

“Why not?” asked Nadia. She admired the large spoon in her hand. It was about as tall as her, with a reddish mahogany handle that supported a stainless steel bowl. On the other end was an ornately carved steel handle. Nadia had no doubt it was heavy, but her newfound strength allowed her to lift it with ease.

She grinned at the cat. “Fits my outfit. Cafe and everything.”

The cat slapped its forehead. “You know what, I’ll shut up. Just get rid of the thing.”

“How?”

The cat stretched its paw out. Moving from left to right and then upwards, it drew a large triangle in the air. “Like this, stretch your weapon out, draw a triangle. It should glow.”

Nadia grabbed her gigantic spoon and drew the triangle. Sure enough, it began to glow a brilliant gold.

“Good,” said the cat. “Just in time too, the beast seems to be stirring.”

And he was right. The beast was now pushing itself up by its front legs. It began growling.

“Now what?” asked Nadia, panicking slightly.

“Smack the beast with it until it explodes.”

Nadia blinked.

“Are you serious? That’s crazy!”

“Look, do you want to be thrown into the air again?”

The beast had gotten up and was now bracing for a charge.

“No!”

“Then get to it!”

Nadia stood her ground, and held firmly to her spoon. The beast was now gaining speed.

“Just hit it Nadia,” she said to herself. “You can do it.”

She jumped and lifted the spoon above her head. As gravity started to pull her down, she brought the spoon hard on the beast’s head. There was a loud smack. Smack, smack went her spoon as she struck the beast several times.

The beast roared in pain each time and started to glow red.

“That’s your cue, finish him!” shouted the cat.

She gathered her strength.

“ARRRGH!” she screamed, hitting the beast as hard as she could. As soon as the spoon collided with the beast, it exploded. Nadia and the cat shielded their eyes from the dust and smoke, coughing.

“That could have looked cooler,” said Nadia. “Now kitty, mind telling me what all this is about?”

*

The door creaked open and Nadia walked in carrying a small bowl of tuna. She set it down on the floor and the cat quickly gobbled it up. It wasn’t long however, before it stuck out its tongue in disgust.

“Ugh, your human canned fish is so bland. If I wasn’t starving I would have refused.”

“So much for gratitude,” said Nadia. “Now that you’ve gotten your belly nice and full, let’s take it from the top.”

The cat said nothing as it continued feeding.

“What’s your name?” asked Nadia.

“Mittens.”

Not for the first time today, Nadia forced down a giggle. Mittens frowned.

“I can see that!” said Mittens indignantly. “Mittens is an honoured name! Among us Messengers it means warrior and strength! It’s you humans that have corrupted the name.”

“Fine, fine,” said Nadia. “Keep your voice down, I think my parents are in the garden. So, you’re some kind of magical creature I take it? Source of my powers? I watch a lot of TV, you know, I’m pretty experienced in these things.”

“That probably explains you a lot. Actually, I’m not that magical, to be honest.”

“You can talk.”

“What’s so magical about that? You can talk.”

“Well, you’re a cat.”

Mittens’ ears twitched. “I’m not a cat. We Messengers take the forms of your domesticated animals, but these are mere disguises. In our plane we assume glorious forms!”

Nadia scratched her chin. “Plane? What do you mean?”

“Separate realm of existence. Anyway, I don’t think you need concern yourself with all that. You hardly seem capable of digesting it.”

Nadia blushed. “Don’t be condescending!” she said. “I saved your life, kitty!”

“It’s Mittens,” said Mittens. He was no longer looking at her, but admiring his paws. “You may have saved my life, but that was a pretty poor performance for a Garde. Even for a newcomer. Believe me, I’ve seen quite a few first-time Gardes and they sure as heck have done a much better job than you.”

“I would have done better if - hang on,” said Nadia. She paused for a moment. “Wait, there are others with powers like me? Other … Gardes here in Stella?”

“Not just in Stella, there are hundreds of Coeurgardes all over the globe, throughout history! They fight the Nihil, they’re our sole protectors against them. In recent times we’ve not had too many Gardes because the Nihil have not been too busy. Like Stella, for example, haven’t had a Garde for a few decades, simply no need.”

“What’s a Nihil?”

“The Nihil are a race of dark beings …” Mittens’ eyes widened in fear and he shifted his head side to side. He was looking at all the corners of the bedroom. “They’re not part of this world, you see. Most of the time, they have this non-corporeal form.”

“What exactly do you mean, non-corporeal?”

“That means they’re not present physically, but that doesn’t mean they’re not there.”

“Wait, do you mean -” Nadia was starting to feel a tingle up her spine.

“That’s right, they could be here right now. In this room.”

Her heart started pounding hard. She quickly retreated to a wall, looking wildly at every corner.

Mittens fell to the ground, howling with laughter and clutching his sides. “You should see your face!” he said, wiping tears from his eyes. “Don’t worry, only the extremely weak Nihil prowl around humans much. They’re not that intelligent and their attacks are weak. Almost harmless.”

“Still! There are those things in my room right now! And what do you mean, ‘attacks’?”

“The Nihil’s main goal is to wipe out humanity’s hope. So the best way to do that is to whisper despair into your ears. Discouraging thoughts, telling you to give up on life, that sort of thing.

“I must say though, you humans have done a decent job recently keeping up hope. Friendship, faith, trust, love, all that.”

“What good’s that?” asked Nadia. She could hardly believe that simple emotions could keep otherworldly beings in check.

“Believe it or not, when you guys do this, have hope, I mean, it creates a sort of energy field. You can’t see it, but it grants you some protection against them. That’s why they want to destroy it.”

“Uh-huh … so Kuhwehr-Garts protect against these things.”

“Coeurgardes, and that’s right. And for perks we let you choose a theme for your powers. I guess you have chosen … coffee.”

Mittens was now sitting with his forelegs crossed, staring disapprovingly at Nadia. She ignored it; a curious thought had just popped into her mind.

“What if I don’t want to be a Garde?”

“What?” scoffed Mittens. “This city needs a Garde. Haven’t you been listening, girl? We haven’t had a Nihil attack like this in -”

“No seriously, what if I don’t want to be one?”

There was a moment of silence as Mittens glared at Nadia.

“Well, to be honest, it’s no big deal,” he said at last, shrugging. “I could be mad at you, but Messenger code of ethics clearly states that Gardes must accept freely.”

“Oh I see.”

“It shouldn’t even be that hard to find another Garde. I mean, the special circumstances on the beach meant that I needed you, but honestly I’m willing to bet there are tons of candidates out there. Much better ones, too.”

His smirked and dodged Nadia’s swiping hand. “At any rate, you have a day to decide if you want to become a Garde. If not, I’ll go find someone else.” He pushed the bowl aside, and added, “Though I’d appreciate it if you make your decision quickly. In the meantime, I shall lodge in your room.”

Rubbing his belly, he jumped on Nadia’s bed and curled up on her pillow.

Nadia sat there for a few minutes pondering all that he had told her. Something still bugged her, and she wracked her brain trying to figure out exactly what.

“Say, Mittens, you said those Nihil creatures were non-corporal -”

“Non-corporeal,” mumbled Mittens.

“Right. If they’re these invisible, non-physical things how come I got to fight with a very real, very dangerously physical creature at the beach?”

Mittens sat up once again and stared into Nadia’s eyes.

“That’s precisely why we need a Garde so quickly. They’re getting desperate, they’ve taken physical form.”

*

The shop bell rang as the door opened. A young man walked in and surveyed the area until he caught sight of Nadia waving at him. Looking at his watch, he thought it was a most unusual sight.

“Thanks for dropping by on such quick notice, Will,” said Nadia.

Will dusted his seat with a napkin and sat down. Scanning his friend’s appearance, he noticed that her hair was uncombed and untidy, glistening a bit in its dampness. She was also wearing that same jacket that she always wore, clearly not bothering to dig deeper into her wardrobe.

“Nadia Chen asking for coffee at 8am,” he said, tapping his fingers on the table. “I simply had to see what’s up.”

“What, don’t most people take their coffee at this time?” said Nadia, grinning.

Will allowed himself a slight smile. “Nadia, I’ve known you since we were 7. At best, you’re never awake earlier than you need to be and usually, that’s the case even when you need to be. Plus,” he gestured to her frizzled hair, “I’m guessing you’re not used to waking so early, either.”

“That’s not fair!” said Nadia, frantically combing her damp, black hair with her fingers. “You try having hair this long!”

“Nadia, it’s only up to your shoulders.”

“And besides,” said Nadia, ignoring him. “I can be an early bird if I want to! Why, I was awake hours before our trip to Rat’s Nest Island with the gang, remember?”

“If I recall, you fell back asleep and wouldn’t respond to our poundings on your door.”

Nadia was blinking furiously. Will recognised this as the signal that she had nothing more to say, so he continued talking.

“So why here? I thought you hated working at this place, and now you’re coming back for morning tea?”

“I know Sally runs off to the bank at this time,” said Nadia. “And after that she’ll take a long, long walk around the neighbourhood, sampling the new cakes before coming back. She thinks we don’t know. Besides, Sharon’s here to man the station.”

Shoulders slumped, Sharon gazed over the counter out the window. Her eyes were drooping and every few moments she let out a sigh.

“Anyway, I called you here to sort of discuss something,” said Nadia. “It’s kind of a long story.”

“Shoot.”

“Well, the funny thing is, I’m not sure if I should be telling you this.”

“You either tell me or you don’t, it’s up to you. In the meantime, are we getting anything to drink?”

“Oh? Right, right. Sharon, one Earl Grey and a Latte, please!”

Sharon continued staring out the window, stuck in a world of her own. She let out another sigh.

“What’s with her today?” asked Nadia, perplexed. “Hold on, I’ll go to the counter.”

Will watched as Nadia walked over to order their drinks. Considering that it took a direct waving of Nadia’s hand in front of her face to shake her out of her daydreams, it was clear that Sharon was distracted.

“Is she alright?” asked Will as Nadia sat back down.

“Not sure, she wouldn’t say,” said Nadia, frowning. “Clearly not herself, though. She did mention earlier that she had choir auditions late yesterday afternoon, maybe that didn’t go so well.”

Will leaned back and crossed his arms. “Hmm. Well, it’s been 10 minutes since I came into the shop, would you mind finally getting on with what you wanted to say?”

“Yes! I mean, no, I don’t mind,” stammered Nadia. “The thing is … what would you do, Will, if you had the chance to help people?”

“I’d do it, I guess. But I’m also guessing from your tone it’s not just any common opportunity.”

“You guessed right. This is a pretty big responsibility.”

“And as usual, you don’t want anything to do with it?”

Nadia snorted. “Look, what’s with the jumping to conclusions? I hardly think I’m that bad. I avoid work because it’s often unnecessary. Why do more than you need to? Of course, when it’s to help people, I’d do it in a flash. You know that.”

Will nodded. “It seems you answered your own question, then. If you can help people, then wouldn’t you do it?”

“This case’s different. I’ll admit, if the responsibility is too big, it frightens me a bit. Plus, I was told it didn’t have to be me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Someone else could take it. The responsibility, I mean.”

“I’m guessing you’re not telling me what exactly this entails?”

Nadia nodded her head. “Can’t do that, I think.”

Just then, Sharon arrived with the drinks.

“Thanks Sharon, how did the choir auditions go?” asked Nadia, as Sharon placed the cups on the table. The latte was unevenly poured, with a misshapen heart on the foam and the tea had spilt over the sides of the cup into the saucer holding it.

Instead of answering, Sharon turned pale and immediately walked off.

Nadia’s brows furrowed. “Strange, she really doesn’t seem herself today. Guessing the choir auditions didn’t go so well.”

“Likely,” said Will brusquely, sipping his tea. “Now, about your decision. You’re not telling me what’s going on, so my advice is simply weigh the odds and decide if you want to take this up. After all, you don’t have to do it. Same for any decision, don’t see what the fuss is about.”

“You make it sound so simple! How do you even weigh the odds? It’s so subjective, don’t tell me you have some way to measure it?”

Will didn’t answer. He casually stirred two sachets of sugar into his tea as he watched Nadia’s ears turn a bright shade of red. Even as her eyes bore into his, he refused to blink and casually poured some milk into the tea.

Nadia took his unchanging face as confirmation of her fears. “As I thought!” she shouted, raising her hands into the air. “You don’t know, do you? You make all these simple pronouncements and then -”

“Decide it for yourself,” interrupted Will. “How you value these things depends on you, of course. It’s very, very simple, there is no problem here. No need to whine and shout.”

There was a loud bang as Nadia brought her hands down onto the table. Anticipating her reaction, Will had had brought his cup and saucer up. Nadia’s latte however, had spilled all over her side of the table. Several customers turned to stare at her (Sharon was back to staring out the window).

“ARRGH!” exclaimed Nadia, burying her face in her hands. “Why do you have to be so … so -”

“Rational?” finished Will.

“Rational my foot!” shouted Nadia. But her face softened and she was now smirking. “You’re just so curt and tactless, as always. Anyone else might have just slapped you. But I know you better than that.”

“Of course,” said Will, pulling out a paper napkin and helping Nadia wipe the spilled coffee. They spent a minute in silence cleaning up the mess.

“I guess you haven’t made a decision yet,” said Will, finally.

“No!” glared Nadia, scrunching up a wet napkin. “Thanks though for listening. I hate to say it, you’ve always been a decent friend, at least in that department,” she added begrudgingly.

“Just decent?”

“Don’t press your luck, buster. If I unleashed all my pent-up rage that I’ve been building up all these years on you, you’d be lucky to have a tooth left.”

*

“Hey Rose, Rose!”

Nadia pulled back the hood of her jacket and waved to Rose, who returned a small, nervous wave from her seat at the very back of the lecture hall.

“Can I sit with you today?” asked Nadia as she reached the seat next to Rose.

Rose nodded and Nadia dumped her sling bag onto the floor in front of her. Almost immediately after, she had her feet propped up on the seat in front of her.

“Umm, I think this place will be crowded soon,” said Rose sheepishly.

“I guess so,” said Nadia. “What’s that got to do - Oh…” She noticed Rose looking at her feet intruding on the seat in front of her.

“Sorry, pretty bad habit of mine,” said Nadia, taking her feet down. She raised her hands in surrender. “I admit, I can be pretty inconsiderate.”

Rose brought her hand to her mouth in an attempt to stifle her laughter. “Not at all, not at all. How can you be inconsiderate when you treated me to that lovely cake yesterday? Thanks, by the way. I didn’t have the chance to properly thank you.”

“Consider it one favour for another,” said Nadia, leaning back and slouching in her chair. “You saved my skin back there. Sally can be a real pain in the -”

She stopped, as Rose had let out a small gasp.

“Sensitive about the language, too?” asked Nadia, amused. “You’re too nice, Rose, too sweet and innocent.”

“S-sorry,” gasped Rose, cheeks glowing pink. “You have your bad habits and I have mine …”

“That’s not a bad habit. You seem like a good enough person. A good enough person, hmm …”

Nadia paused for a moment as Rose looked at her inquisitively. Should she ask Rose about her decision? Rose certainly seemed to have more tact and patience than Will could ever hope to muster.

“Say, Rose, I have a question. Imagine you could do something really good -”

The door slammed and Mr Matthew George, their Communications teacher, staggered in, carrying a large stack of paper. He heaved them onto his desk and collapsed into his chair, wiping his brow.

“Morning ladies and gentlemen!” he said, standing up and leaning on his lectern for support. For a man who was out of breath mere moments ago, he looked positively alive. “I see you’re all bright and smiling for our second class!”

A few students raised their heads from their desks before promptly dropping them down again. Others were sitting and smirking. Nadia turned to see Rose, hand over mouth, laughing as quietly and as discreetly as she could.

“Seeing as we all want to do this properly, I’ve printed out today’s lecture notes for you all,” said Mr George loudly. “Today’s topic is non-verbal communication! You’ve all read the chapter, I’m sure, so you know that 60% of our communication is non-verbal. That’s not actually true, though the point stands that we don’t communicate solely by our words. But I’m getting ahead of myself, can I get some volunteers to distribute these?”

“Sorry for laughing that way,” whispered Rose to Nadia, as some students began to make their way around the hall, handing out the notes. “I really shouldn’t laugh, that was mean of me.”

“Goodness, you really do apologize for everything!” said Nadia, amazed. “You are too saintly! Simply adorable!”

Rose turned scarlet again. “Sorr-, I mean, no, umm, it’s just a bad habit. I’m a terrible person, really.”

Nadia was reminded of her attempts at resisting from squeezing Mittens’ cheeks. She grinned widely at Rose.

“You don’t always have to apologize,” she said. A student handed her two sets of notes, one of which she passed to Rose. “I just want to know, are you okay with chatting in class? Because I need to ask you for advice.”

Rose quickly shook her head, shocked.

“No, we can’t!” she whispered. “It’s against the rules to talk in class!”

“Calm down,” laughed Nadia. “I had expected that, that’s why I’m treating you for lunch. Then we can talk.”

“Wait, there’s no need, you’ve already bought me the cake and -”

Her words were stopped midway by Nadia’s finger over her mouth.

“Hush now, Rose, we can’t talk in class, remember?” said Nadia, smirking.

Mr George had already taken out his laser pointer and was staring down the lens, furiously pushing the button to try to get it to work. Shortly after, he jolted back, clutching his eye. Rose sighed in resignation.

“That’s what I thought,” laughed Nadia. “Lunch it is.”

*

A rat scurried across the pier, hoping to catch a nibble of some scattered popcorn dropped by a tourist earlier in the day. Now was its chance to finally get something to eat, as night had fallen and the pier was empty. Empty except -

The rat was lifted up in the air. An invisible force tightened like a noose around its neck before throwing its lifeless body into the sea.

“Fascinating power,” said a voice.

It belonged to the refugee who had earlier escaped Stella Penitentiary. The young boy who was on the receiving end of this death grip just hours earlier was now his companion as they traversed down the length of the pier that stretched along the shoreline.

For a while, they walked on, with only their footsteps breaking the silence.

“Where are you taking me, human?” asked the boy, scanning the pier with his dull eyes. Aside from the pier and the deserted buildings to their left, there was nothing else remotely of interest.

“What’s your name, boy?” asked the man, ignoring his question.

The boy stopped walking.

“I asked you first, human.”

Now the man had stopped in his tracks too. He swung around, right hand curling into a ball. The boy however, was prepared, and parried the punch with his materialized staff. His feet slid on the wood of the pier as he struggled to maintain balance.

Looking under his hood, the man saw the tiniest crease in the boy’s forehead and smirked.

“Haven’t we already done this? You can’t win.” said the man, withdrawing his arm.

“Do not trifle with things you do not understand, human,” said the boy, huffing slightly. “You are only alive because you have absorbed the power in a way no human host has. We need to study you, and for that -”

Leaning on his staff, the boy brought a knee to the ground.

“I have been tasked … to serve you,” he said, bowing.

The man lifted an eyebrow. “This is an interesting turn of events,” he said. “Since you have so graciously given me the authority, I now have two orders for you. First, you will tell me your name. Second, you will get up and follow after me, quickly.”

“I have no name,” said the boy. “I am merely called the Herald.”

The man suspected that whatever the boy was a herald of, it was not good. For now, he kept these thoughts to himself. Better to study it discreetly.

“That will do,” said the man. “Come, we must hurry. I grow tired of this walk and it is still a few kilometres to go.”

The Herald said nothing, got up and followed the man, who had now broken into a brisk walk. Considering how short the Herald was, the man was surprised that he could keep up, almost effortlessly.

After some time, they reached a large run-down warehouse. On its enormous door was a sign saying, in faded words: “MONTGOMERY INDUSTRIES WAREHOUSE 13”. The man sneered at the sign, gripped at it with his telekinetic powers and yanked it off the door. He tossed it into the sea and proceeded to pull open the unlocked door.

The space inside was cavernous and empty but for a few steel girders. The man closed his eyes for a moment, stretched out his hand and grasped. With great difficulty, he brought the steel girders into the air and twisted and bent them. Rattling and clanging loudly, they wrapped around each other and contorted, eventually forming the shape of a large throne. Having finished, the man fell to all fours, panting and drenched in sweat.

“I-I need to get stronger …”

“The Nihil gain power by feeding on despair,” drawled the Herald. “You haven’t fed at all since you got your powers, unless you count that miserable rat.”

The man looked up. “How do I feed? What should I do?”

“Assist us in claiming these humans as hosts. Feed on their despair. That,” the Herald’s eyes met the man’s, “will make you strong.”

Breathing heavily, the man crawled to his newly crafted throne and lifted himself onto it. Sagging down into it, he said, “I will do it.”

A small smile formed on the Herald’s lips. “Do you have a name, master?”

“My name is of no significance,” said the man, waving. “I will pick a new name. I choose … John Smith.”

“John Smith? If I recall, that is an exceedingly common name. Would you not rather choose a more grandiose name, master?”

“No, I have chosen the name and it will be mine,” said the newly-styled John Smith. “Fully and entirely mine. It is not a decision I made lightly, I have thought about this for a few days.

“I intend to strike fear into the hearts of everyone here, so much fear that even this common dirt of a name, John Smith, will be associated with terror, associated only … with me.”

John Smith had regained his strength and was now sitting upright. “It matters not the name, Herald. A name is a name. The more common the name, the greater the challenge, the more power I will have. Do you not agree? Would I not have succeeded by claiming ownership of this ordinary, exceedingly common name, converting it into a word of despair and hopelessness?

“I will crush this city, and when they speak the name John Smith, it will be with trembling and submission.”

There was a glint in the Herald’s otherwise soulless eyes. “I am impressed, master. And the Gardes accuse us of being the soulless ones.”

“Gardes?” asked John Smith. “Who are these Gardes?”

“Oh, I expect you will get introduced to them soon enough, master.”