Golden Box Book Publishing One Picture: Thousands of Words | Page 65

“The Watch Towers have favored me since my birth,” she snarled,
dropping the shovel. “You have to grovel and call upon them, but the
Guardians call upon me!”
She reached down and snatched the ring off her grandmother's
finger, then gently placed it on her own. The eye looked up at her.
Then slowly the clouded blackness cleared, revealing a bright
sapphire blue. She reached out her hands into the wind-swept air of
the basement.
“Father?” she called out. “I'm here, Father. I have come to claim
my ancient birthright.”
The ring blinked once, then began to glow.
“Father,” she repeated, “Pass your mantle on to me!”
Light from the eye exploded into the room, consuming every inch
of space. Her body, acting like a sponge, began to absorb light. She
shivered and quaked as the magic filled her, seeping deep to the very
marrow of her bones. Her mind raced, as the memories of previous
guardians melded with her own. When her body and soul could take
no more, the ring darkened.
“Thank you,” she gasped, dropping to her knees.
Then she removed the ring, set it on the dirt floor and stood up.
“I am the Guardian of the Watch Tower of the North,” she called
out. “and I release you from these gilded bonds!”
The ring began to expand and stretch. Its crystal eye retracted into
the setting, as if to disappear into a tiny black abyss. As the band
grew wider, a swirling portal appeared in its center.
She held her breath as a hand reached out from the portal, grasping
the ground.
“Daddy?” she mumbled, taking a step closer.