I am a warden of the White Council, though I am not a decorated veteran of many battles, nor a soldier who was able to prove that I belonged here inside this force of men. Instead I was nothing more then a draftee, someone who had been deemed to bad to join before the sheer number of casualties we had suffered forced the people in charge to accept me. I am a child of attrition, a soldier born of the wasteland.
I still am not a powerful mage like my superiors, like the warden Dresden, while he is a flame, I am a mere candle. I couldn't stand up to the Merlin like he could; in fact, I think that they wouldn't even bother listening to me. He was strong, everything that I always wanted to be, a role model for me to look up to. A standard for me, a picture of everything that I had ever wanted to be.
But now I am the farthest away from that man, who I aspire to be. My candle had burned out, here in the midst of a heated battle. Wardens battled against hundreds of Red Court vampires all around me, yet here I was, huddled behind a rock hoping that they wouldn't see me. As our commanders had told us this would be the final battle, but I couldn't fight it.
I was too scared, of the fire that shot from our side, of the bullets that answered from theirs. I could even see my hero fighting at the front, cutting through the forces of our enemies with his flames as his new found friend Morgan used the crushing forces of earth besides him. I drew myself into a tighter ball behind my cover and shivered. Dresden had even been brave enough to become friends with his comrade in arms, yet oft-enemy Morgan, but here I was, huddled behind a rock.
All because I had lost my magic trying to become someone I wasn't. I had broken myself trying to fight besides Dresden, trying to match him flame for flame, and force for force. Now I was useless, powerless before the forces of the Vampiric courts. My arm came up to shield my face as a blast of fire flew besides me, and a warden fell to the ground in front of me.
Half his body was melted away and I felt a warm stream run down my leg. No worries though, the grey cloak of a warden repells blood and hides my cowardice behind a colorless curtain. It conceals the fact that I am nothing but a snuffed candle.
I was no longer a wizard, wizards are people who can touch magic, who can bend the very laws of physics and can make miracles happen. Magic was what defined a wizard, what separated the good ones from those such as me. I had trouble controlling my meager powers at best, but at other times I felt more helpless then the people we protected.
Yet at this time I couldn't help but think about the trial where Dresden had argued for that girl's life, his new apprentice, yet I wasn't thinking about Dresden or how he fought, but of the Gatekeeper.
Just like me, he hadn't had the power to fight against the Merlin's decision, yet he had stopped to think about the consequences anyways. He hadn't had the power to change anything, but that couldn't get in the way of him doing what was right. He was obligated to choose the right course.
Just like me, right now.
My magic had overextended itself, and I was powerless in face of our foe, yet that didn't erase my obligation to do what was right. I still had to choose my course of action with care. I stood, gripping the handle of my sword as I looked at our foe. The Red Court had routed the Fellowship of Saint Giles and fell upon the wardens that had been behind them.
The Senior council was falling upon the vampires flank, supported by more members of the Fellowship, and I could even see a few wildfaye amongst the ranks on both sides of the battle.
No matter what, I was still going to do what was right. I was powerless before my foe, yet I would still do what I knew to be right. What I was obligated to do.
I was still a wizard, and still a warden, even if I couldn't touch my magic anymore.
Because of a
single sword the battle was won, the vampires retreated into their
fortress, but because of a single sword among the front ranks they
could not take the nearby village as hostage with them. Fire was
called up against the stones of the fortress, and naked force was
cast against its walls. The foundations crumbled, and in the
dust many people were honored. Captain Morgan was decorated once
more, and besides him was commander Dresden. Though the most honored
of all those who had fought, was a young warden who was found at the
front of the battle fighting with a sword which had been shattered in
battle, with the corpse of someone who had only been known as "Cowl"
at his feet. It was our obligation to do what was right, to
protect humanity from the beasts of the night, and even though this
man was damaged beyond repair he still did his duty. Though he
will never touch magic again, he is still a wizard, and he shall
forever be a warden.