The two of us sped across the rooftops. Swan Victorious seemed as cheerful as ever, dancing across buildings like a ballerina, leaping high into the sky and practically hovering at the apex. She swooped and she soared and she spun and she acted like everything was fine.

Maybe some of the people down below, cheering for us, were fooled by the display, but I doubted she had shrugged off the events of earlier so easily. If I was smarter, maybe I could have helped her, but instead I simply ran alongside her, taking refuge in the rush of the wind around me and hoping for another miracle.

Even as I worried about her, part of me was also chewing on the prospect of meeting other Guardians. If I had known about the meeting earlier, I could have done some preparation. Maybe I could have written up some notes or asked Karl to tell me about them. But no one else had wanted to delay things, and I had no desire to be the lone dissenting voice on something as petty as that.

It took us perhaps twenty minutes to cross half the city. I suspect we had left behind a few footprints, but it probably wasn’t a big deal. They made roofs to withstand heavy blows from above, or so I assumed. Anything else wouldn’t work for the kind of winters we got sometimes.

And even with that short travel time, we weren’t the first to arrive. There were a few individuals scattered about the abandoned prison, all of them rather flamboyantly dressed, but it was the building itself that caught my eye. I had only seen it a few times, mostly in photos, but the thick concrete walls and squat towers had always radiated solidity and superiority. It had been built to last, every inch of the complex imbued with the confidence that the order it had been made to uphold would last forever.

For as long as I could remember, people had wanted to demolish it and turn the place into a park or graveyard, but it always endured.

And then in a few short hours, a day at absolute most, it had been torn asunder. The mighty walls that had withstood countless attempts at vandalism and years of brutal winters had been shattered in dozens of places. The guard towers slumped over like wounded soldiers. The gatehouse roof had crumpled in. The cell blocks were burst open from the inside out.

For decades, nothing more than spray paint and snow had made an impact here. And now it was forever transformed.

Swan alighted atop one of the ruined towers, while I came to a halt among the rubble in the middle of the gatehouse. And I turned my attention away from the buildings to the people scattered about it.

None of them seemed together, and none seemed inclined to approach, so I chose to keep my distance as well. Swan slouched into a resting position on her perch, and I remained in quiet watch, studying my counterparts.

My attention was drawn to one in particular because he was playing a harmonica. Little bubbles shaped like musical notes drifted from it, popping in bright flashes of light that stung my eyes. He had found a stool somewhere and perched on it in the corner of the courtyard, happily playing away with his eyes closed.

Karl broke into my thoughts to inform me he was Magical Guardian Musical Isle, then he subsided and left me to my observation.

Musical wore a bright white tuxedo with slashes of scarlet and gray running along the suit and a matching top hat perched at an angle on his head. Long brown hair speckled with salt and pepper peeped out from under the hat, and he had a neatly trimmed square beard.

He also had blazingly bright viridian eyes. They fascinated me, they tempted me to go over and introduce myself. Instead I flopped down on a boulder, head hanging upside down as I watched him. He seemed lost in his own world and utterly at peace. I found myself reluctant to disturb it.

So instead I waited as more arrived. They perched throughout the courtyard, each with their own unique outfit. Most were unrelentingly bright and colorful, and all were eye-catching. They were proud and cheerful, justly happy with the victories they had won, even as I saw many who’s joy was mixed with grief.

Their attitudes enraged me. My blood boiled with anger at those upbeat attitudes, when this world was so full of suffering, when we had allowed so many to die. I scolded myself for it. We had all done our best, and the misery of others was no reason to be miserable myself. And most importantly, I was redirecting my rage again.

With difficulty, I choked down the angry, vile things I wanted to scream, just in time for the last Guardian to appear.

They came in silver and blues so pale they were almost white. It hung around them like a fog, occasionally parting to reveal glimpses of pale brown skin and a sliver cloak made of layers of tassels, all dancing in a non-existent breeze. Karl identified them as Magical Guardian Ghostly Defiance. Their gaze swept across all of us, and then they spoke.

“Everyone seems to be here. Or at least, I don’t think we are missing anyone.”

At that, another stepped forward. He was dressed in a bright green and purple jumpsuit patterned like snakeskin, the colors somehow avoiding clashing.

“Alright then. I’m Guardian Serpentine Shield. It’s a pleasure to meet you all properly, and I’m so glad you all came to this talk. There’s a few things I want to cover, and of course if any of you have issues you want to bring up, this is an excellent opportunity.”

He offered us all a bright smile and moved on without pausing for breath. “The first thing I wanted to bring up is engaging with the media. We’re the number one story in the country right now, even if a lot of people are skeptical about who we are and whether we’re real. I expect we will be getting plenty of opportunities to present ourselves, and we need to make a good impression. Let’s all try and do that. No swearing, be polite, say nice things about each other, and -”

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Swan sat up on her perch and hollered down “We’re not in fucking kindergarten, dude!”

He pressed his lips together, and I stepped forward into the silence. This would make an excellent distraction from my fury.

“That’s a fair point. But also, there’s no guarantee we actually want to work together. I personally think we should, and if we form some sort of organization, having media guidelines that assume a certain amount of intelligence is fair.”

A lot of people were looking at me all of a sudden. I licked my lips and shoved my hands into the pockets of my coat (part of me wondered if they had been there before), but I kept going.

“If not though, if we just want some sort of informal association or nothing at all, this is a bit silly.”

A Guardian in a suit of what looked like power armor made from a rainbow of crystal shards suggested we hold a vote.

At this point the Musical spoke up. “I look around, and you know what I see? Individuals. Proud, unique individuals. So why are you all trying to stifle that? I say we go our own way, stand on our own two feet!”

Serpentine cut him off, stepping forward, with a casual wave of his hand. “Looks like I put the cart before the horse, yeah. The vote is a great idea!”

I found myself glaring at the two of them, but I let Serpentine run the vote, counting raised hands. The organization won decisively, with only Musical voting against it, much to my surprise. I wondered if perhaps the Familiars were putting their paws on the scales. Karl had definitely implied that I would benefit from the establishment of a Guardian organization.

Despite his defeat, Musical stayed in the ruined prison, spinning his harmonica in his hands, watching us all with eerie intensity. Again and again, I found my gaze being drawn to him as the rest of us spoke. We agreed to a much more reasonable set of rules for talking to the press, and my suggestion for the name - the Guardian Collective - proved popular enough. We started talking about how we should actually be organized, what our goals should be, even where we should meet. Nothing was formalized, nothing set in stone. It was just a lot of idle conversation. Pleasant, certainly, but I was beginning to get impatient.

There was plenty we needed to organize, but actually bringing that up proved aggravating, especially since Musical kept interrupting to toss in snide commentary.

But then Serpentine dropped a bombshell.

“During the incursion, I tried to arm the police with Alliance weaponry, and-”

He was going to say more, but I had heard enough. Sudden fury swept through me. My head pounded with the sheer force of my anger.I leaped to my feet, on the verge of violence. For an instant, my knives glittered in my hands, before I forced myself to sheathe them.

“Why would you do something like that?”

I wasn’t the only one angry, either. Ghostly took a step forward, as did a couple other Guardians, and a series of heated arguments broke out amongst the circle. Someone shouted about how they hadn’t seen a single police officer during the fight, and then a ringing in my ears drowned out everything else. All the while, Musical watched us, his lips quirked up in amusement. For an instant, I met his gaze, and found myself growing even angrier.

Serpentine held up his hands. “I- look - I didn’t give them-”

But I was not having any of his excuses. I wasn’t going to start a fight, but I was going to let him know exactly what I thought of his decisions and attitude.

And I was sick and tired of holding back! I stormed across the ruined prison, magic crackling in my blood. I could have called up my Crimson Spears and pierced him through, or armored myself in scorching flame and burned him to ash, or brought down a hurricane of star-hot fire and steel. But instead, I gritted my teeth and glared at him.

He met my gaze, and I saw confused anger in his eyes. Sharp-edged scales began to rise from the ground, shifting in intricate patterns, concealing him from me. “I’m not going to hurt you,” I promised.

“I just want to explain to you why what you did was so terrible.”

I will admit that I probably wouldn’t have believed me either.

People were shouting, Swan leaped down behind me, feather in hand, several Guardians were retreating from the chaotic argument, and Musical was sitting in his corner, harmonica hanging loosely in his hands, cackling like a madman.

Fortunately, before things could escalate further, the closest thing we had to authority figures intervened.

Karl’s mental shout had enough force to make my ears ring.

[“Benny! Stop! It’s not what you think!”]

I could see other Guardians flinching, even Musical, and the hazy outline of dozens of fantastical creatures appeared in my vision.

I shook my head, took a deep breath, and closed my eyes. Much of my anger subsided, although a core remained, roiling in my gut. And then I apologized.

“Let me be the first to apologize. I have no excuse to offer, except that I think these past couple days have been...difficult. Nevertheless, I should not have gotten so angry, not without letting you explain further.”

I swallowed, and inclined my head at Serpentine, gritting my teeth as I did. The words did not make me feel any better. Though I was still seething, I did my best to direct it properly. My fellow Guardians were not the ones who arrested me, not the ones who fired me, not the powers of this world.

Serpentine met my gaze and offered his own words.

“Right, well...I am sorry for how I behaved as well. Anyway, the police were incredibly cowardly and refused to fight, even after I offered to supply them with anything they would need. They effectively abandoned the city. And I kinda punched the chief of police in the face.”

I flushed as I realized how badly I had messed up, and gave another apology, but before more could be said, Musical played three bright notes on his harmonica. A shiver ran over me, and I found myself compelled to turn to him.

With a jaunty grin, he spoke up. “Well, that was unfortunate. Now, to show there’s no hard feelings, why don’t we blow off some steam with some friendly sparring?”

I could think of no reason that would be a bad idea. A look around showed me everyone else agreed, and then Serpentine smiled.

The two of us seemed to have the same thought, and pointed to Musical.

“You first!” we shouted, our voices separated by only half a heartbeat, and then we sprang forward, the ground cracking beneath our feet.