Waypoint

My boots crunched loudly as I made my way across the sun dried grass, hearing the cicadas scream out their war cries into the fading light of twilight, heading toward the old barn. The once red paint faded and chipped away to a sun bleached pink in some spots, while most of the walls were nothing more then weather worn planks. I never thought I'd be back here, never thought I'd even be contemplating stepping foot inside that rickety barn ever again. On the outside it looked like one stiff breeze might blow the whole thing down, but I knew the truth of what lay behind those tightly closed doors.

For generations my family had lived on this farm. In a no name town, in the middle of no where. The only time new people came through was if they were lost, and even then they never stayed long. That was the magic of this place. The locals, what few there were, called it Waypoint, for that's what it was. I hadn't been back to the farm in years, having run as soon as my boots could carry me. Now standing here, knowing what I must do my heart was so heavy it hurt to breath. Years away had taught me it wasn't this place I'd been running from, but what had been expected of me. Unfortunately it had also taught me you couldn't escape destiny.

I paused outside the doors, breathing in the warm scent of cherry blossoms in the air. Just one last moment to be, before my life changed forever. Part of me wanted to turn around now, get in my car and head back to New York, to the life I'd built there, to the friends I'd left behind. The rest of me knew it wasn't possible. There were dozens of portal halls across the earth, and each had a family tasked with it's care and protection. Waypoint was now mine. For thousands of years a Dux woman had always guarded the Waypoint, had always stood as a guide or guard between the worlds, and I was the last.

Grandma Bea had passes suddenly a few weeks back, and the council charged to oversee the protection of the many worlds, had immediately sent word. There was balance in the worlds right now, but if word got out there was an unguarded portal, all hell might just literally break loose. I'd been raised for just this my whole life, and even after I left I couldn't leave my training behind. I stayed sharp and in fighting shape, even if only out of habit. The years and years of language, etiquette, conduct, weapons, and martial arts training, all had been what eventually pushed me away. Now, knowing I was the last guardian left in our line, I could look back and be grateful to Grandma Bea.

I tucked a stray piece of raven black hair back into my bun, and with a last fortifying breath I placed my hand on the warped wood handle, feeling the smooth stone beneath the façade. With my stomach in knots I stepped through the door into all the luxury of a five-star hotel. The mask of the outside world slipping away as the magic of Waypoint welcomed me home.

I felt the tingles across my skin like static, lighting up my nerve endings. There was no feeling quite like walking through a wall of pure magic, and I had to work hard to keep the memories from slamming into me. Pasting on a smile I didn't really feel I strode across the highly polished white marble floor, my boots echoing loudly in the open space. For the first time in my memory the entry hall was empty. Usually the place was teeming with beings roaming from one place to another. No one knew why Earth ended up being the host planet for the portals between worlds, but as far back as our written histories go, that was the way of things.

To the outside world this was an old decrepit barn that had seen better days. Inside however it was more like a vary upscale airport of sorts, a stopping point for travel between the many realms of existence. The Guardians, like myself, play the role of concierge and security all rolled into one. The portals weren't a constant thing, they worked within their own laws, some only opening once every full moon, some once every hour. Some of the rarer portals only opened once every hundred years or so. It was my job to make sure the crossing beings behaved themselves while on earth. Sometimes you ended up with warring clans occupying the same space, and things could get heated pretty fast.

I checked my watch, noting that the council member assigned to complete the binding to the Waypoint was late. I took the time to take in the surroundings I hadn't seen in twelve years. Magic meant that the visage of a standard barn outside had no real effect on the actual size of the portal halls. As far as we could tell there was no actual end to the space inside. Rooms appeared and disappeared as needed. The only constant was the entry hall, and the portals along the walls. Though Waypoint was known to change décor from century to century at it's own whim, there were always exactly twenty-seven doors. Thirteen along the left wall, thirteen along the right, and the one that led to Earth that I'd just come through. Each door was made of a different material, and design, each hinting at the world beyond. Some seemed to be made of wood so old it would crumble if you touched it, some made of metal so advanced it almost seemed liquid. There was one made entirely of flowering vines.

As I walked among the doors to the single desk in the center of the room, I felt all the information flooding back. As a Guardian I knew where each door led, and how to access each world. Things I was never quite able to forget, even when I tried. The Fey realm, full of beauty and deception. The Mage Towers, full of magic and beasts. The Quanin world, an advanced alien people who mostly kept to themselves. Those and dozens more, mine wasn't the only portal hall, each had different doors to different worlds.

I was pulled out of my thoughts but the sound of a portal activating behind me. It was an almost electrical sound, interspersed with a light airy sound. Almost like a soft breeze through a glass wind chime. The door of blooming vines pulled back, and a tall man exited what I knew was the Fey realm, followed shortly by another. The first man out was older, although how old was hard to guess when some species could live to be a thousand human years. He was on the slighter side, and around average height. He had dark hair that was going white along the temples, and wore a well tailored three piece suite that wouldn't be out of place in a fancy boardroom. The second man was dressed in what appeared to be loose fitting leather pants, a similar sleeveless top, and had two straps crossing his chest. I could just make out the handles to the swords sheathed along his back. He towered over the older man, standing easily six and a half feet tall, with broad shoulders and a steely gaze. Ronan, I quickly deduced. A species close to human in general genetic makeup, they were from a world where everyone was raised to be warriors. As such the Ronan tended to be used as security, or personal military for other important beings. They had a strict moral code, and couldn't just be bought. You had to plead your case, and the Ronan had to agree with your cause before aid would be offered. Many warlords had tried over the centuries to gain the favor of the Ronan, to turn the tide of a war, but all had failed.

“Miss Dux, I'm Councilman Levitt. I apologize for my tardiness, my colleague and I had a stop to make on the way in,” the older gentleman said, striding toward me.

“Please call me Freya, and its not a problem. It's given me the time to reacquaint myself with the Waypoint.”

“This is my associate Garal, he's agreed to accompany me on this journey. I was sorry to hear about your grandmother. Bea was one of the best Guardians we ever had,” he said, a look of true remorse lighting his eyes.

“Thank you, I wish I'd been able to see her before she passed. As it was, we'd only just begun speaking again. I was set to come visit her in July,” I sighed. Wishing I could change things. There was so much about the past twelve years I regretted, but losing touch with Grandma Bea was my biggest.

“Well Miss Dux, Freya, I don't mean to rush, but the Waypoint has been unbound for 13 days now. You know as well as I, the longer it is unbound the harder it is to assimilate someone, and the more likely it is some faction of another will try to seize it. Shall we?” He said, leading the way back to the desk in the middle of the room. On it were some personal items Grandma Bea must have left, as well as the key to binding a Guardian to a specific portal hall. It was a free floating ball of pure energy and magic. The heart of the Waypoint itself.

“I'm ready,” I told him, though I felt anything but.

Councilman Levitt reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked like a smaller version of the Waypoint heart. It was used to communicate to the Waypoint that a new Guardian was being appointed. I never truly understood how or why it worked that way, but it had been the same since the beginning of time. The Portal Halls could be very picky about who became guardian, and having a blood tie to the previous guardian helped smooth the transition. Which is why the duty was passed down through generations of the same family. Sometimes even that wasn't enough to ensure assimilation, and more then a few chosen had died in the process.

Taking a deep breath, and trying to calm my nerves I waited until he gave me the signal, and plunged my right arm, up to my elbow, straight into the Waypoint heart. The feeling was like nothing I could ever accurately describe. It was pain and pleasure, bliss and destruction. Like being frozen, and burned, and being wrapped in the warm hug of someone you know loves you. It was a gentle caress and a solid blow. All that and more. Like being ripped apart one cell at a time, but put back together by a loving hand. It lasted what felt like forever, but could've been a simple blink of the eye. When it was over I couldn't help the laugh of pure joy, or the strangled sob that followed, at the exhilarating feeling of pure power flowing through me from the Waypoint itself.

“Well done Miss Dux, you have been accepted as Guardian of Waypoint. I trust you will not let us down. You know how to contact the Council should you need assistance. Now that you are bound the ban will be lifted, and this portal hall will once again be marked as active,” he stated, pocketing his mini portal hall heart. “I believe you can expect your first travelers within the next three days. Good luck to you.”

With that he exited, and left me to settle into my new life, the one I was always meant to have. The life I'd run from, but that had found me anyways. Guardian of the Waypoint.