Guardian (Sequel to Fearless)

Chapter Sixty Eight

A/N -- Surprises at the bottom of the chapter, SO STAY TUNED AFTER THE AUTHOR'S NOTE AT THE BOTTOM. ;) Some of you that follow my instagram and Facebook have already seen them! The work put into this chapter took 73 hours in total. Enjoy it and know that it's only mildly proofread because it's over 5000 words. :P

It was nearly a week later when Iris looked over her new suit of armor. It had taken quite some time to get done, but that was quite alright. They'd measured her and evaluated her a while ago, and now the final product laid out over her bed. It was an exquisite set, to be true. Dyran had spared no expense. Its make and customization had Iris in awe, but its presence had her heart galloping.

It wasn't just her, everyone in the entire sanctuary had gotten a new set of armor after dinner. The armorers that had been hired had finally sent the suits all down en masse to the Remordan monastery. That was what Master Dyran had been waiting on... the final puzzle piece before it was time to march on the estate. This here... it meant that today was the final day before the reckoning. Every guardian was now in the sanctuary. There were so many. Iris didn't recognize half of them.

They'd have the Remordan Ritual of Torches for good fortune tonight and then they would march out just before dawn.

She took a deep breath and lifted the suit from her bed. Piece by piece, she put it on. It took a little longer than her last set. She could already tell the difference. This armor was like a second set of skin it was so comfortable. Iris tested out the arms and legs and found that it didn't at all impede her movement.

She turned to her mirror. Her body was encased in hard black leather. She was a picture of absolute shadow. It was as beautiful as it was protective. A black, angular collar formed off her shoulders, sporting silver studs for decoration. Two thin chains connected both sides of the collar, draping themselves on her chest.

Her chest piece was form fitting, and several studded belts crisscrossed over her abdomen. Finally, a dagger belt draped itself over her hips, sporting two black scabbards. Iris ran her fingers over the holsters, feeling the black gems that had been sewn in. Her legs were encased in the same black leather, wrapped tight all the way to her new boots.

Iris took in a deep breath. The final piece of her armor was a cowl. Its swarthy hood covered her curls, and its small cape hooked to her shoulders on the back. It fell to a sharp point at the bottom of her spine. A tight piece of black clothed bolted around the lower half of her face and down her neck, covering all skin. The Remorda Guardian sigil was etched in grey over where her lips would've been if they hadn't been covered.

Only Iris's eyes were visible, staring hard at herself in the mirror. She looked dangerous... almost like an assassin. Oh, she liked it. Loved it, even. She took a whirl and spun her daggers about in her hands. Afterwards, she holstered them. She was examining it further in the mirror when she heard the door open behind her.

Iris whirled around to see Azabela. The huntress stopped dead in her tracks and stared at the rogue for a few seconds before saying, "Well, that's terrifying."

Iris took off her cowl and removed the mouth-covering as well before saying. "Isn't it?" She grinned. "What can I help you with?"

"I'm looking for your sister. She wasn't at dinner, and she wasn't at lunch either," Azabela answered.

"She's preparing for the ritual. Has been all day with Master Dyran," Iris told her. "Did she not tell you?"

Azabela grunted. "She told me she had something to do this morning. Didn't specify that it'd take the rest of the day." The huntress sighed. "I suppose I'll see her at the Torch Ritual or whatever it is."