In the beginning, there were two brothers. Twins. Their names were Winston and Cedric Hearst, the only sons of a poor, widowed baker. Cedric was the kinder of the twins. He was a smart young man with a scientific mind, willing to help anyone in need. Winston had always been the bolder of the two. Everywhere Winston looked, he saw a chance to innovate. To him, everything was an opportunity. Despite their differences, the brothers had been inseparable.

The village the Hearst twins lived in was small and close-knit. The village itself was in-between two sacred forests that had stood for thousands of years. The forests held power no mortal man could even dream of possessing, bestowed by the gods themselves. The forests could not survive without each other, because power had to be balanced. That's where the Guardians came in. A Guardian had to match the spirit of the forest, which was actually a living creature who had never been seen. If they didn't match, the surge of energy, without a doubt, would kill them. 

Being chosen to be a Guardian was a high honor, and very distinguished, so everyone was surprised when the poor sons of a baker were chosen over the many nobles. Winston was given guardianship over The White Forest, and Cedric, The Black. The Black Forest, also known as  Ehfinia, had a much more volatile power, and the distrust surrounding Cedric grew. No one trusted a man of science.

The brothers grew apart, separated by their duties and loyalties. Cedric kept to himself, intent focus on his studies, but Winston would not allow that. He began launching full frontal attacks on Ehfinia, madly convinced that 'elves' lived within its borders. This fractured the brother's relationship beyond repair and started a bitter war that spanned decades. 

For the next 80 years, whenever a male descendant-sorry ladies-came to the required age of 22 years, they were tested to see if they would be the next to be bestowed the title of Forest Guardian.

This specific story focuses on the newest Guardian of The Black Forest: Nason Hearst. Nason sat next to his twin brother, Tanin, who looked just like their Great Grandfather Winston. Nason was the spitting image of their Great Uncle Cedric, with curly, rust-red hair and cool blue eyes. His face was dusted with freckles (something  Tanin teased him about), and thick, dark lashes. 

They sat together in a tense silence-well Tanin was tense. Nason was watching a bug steadily march up his arm. It was no longer than a copper coin, and as thin as a small twig. The bug, that is, not Nason's arm. It seemed to have no destination in mind, a slow, relaxed pace as it walked. Tanin glanced over and let out a small scoff, going to flick the bug away. Nason caught Tanin's arm with quick reflexes, frowning. 

He released Tanin's wrist, cheeks flushing slightly. He could not make a fool of himself, especially on today of all days. Nason set his bug friend down and stood, straightening his clothes. A glance at the sun overhead signaled that it was nearly time to leave. He carefully made his way upstairs, the sun warming his back.

The room Tanin and Nason shared was warm and airy, and stacked floor-to-ceiling with books. The books were on various subjects, but all had been read and re-read. Nason put a few in how well-worn satchel, turning to look at the only thing he'd inherited from Great Uncle Cedric-besides problems. 

Stolen story; please report.

Hanging above the entryway was a sword. not only did it (allegedly) provide spiritual protection, it was a sacred beauty. The handle was wrapped in leather for grip, and perfectly weighted. The blade was solid black, made from a crystal only found in Ehfinia. The sword was the only of its kind, cutting better than than any metal in the land. It couldn't snap, and was resistant against any magical. All in all, Nason was proud to have inherited the sword, and he rarely felt pride. 

Nason took the blade off the wall, sheathing it at his side. When he made his way downstairs, Tanin was standing by the door. He looked different . . . if only for a moment. His happy nature, which had always secretly pleased Nason, was nowhere to be seen, replaced with a frown. When Tanin noticed Nason, he smiled and held out his hand. 

"It's about time, Nas. The people are curious."

"Not about me." Nason replied, but he accepted the offered hand, glad for the comfort.

It was tradition for the newly appointed Forest Guardians to make their way through the village together before they reached The Path. Tanin waved and grinned at everyone they passed, while Nason preferred to keep his head down. People were careful to stay out of his path, whispering and holding their children close.

As a child, people had already been suspicious of Nason. They treated him as if he were going around with a pitchfork and snake eyes, instead of a quill and book. He'd always been a curious child, and the other kids had been forbidden from playing with him. Nason hadn't minded terribly. The only person he'd ever needed was his brother, and that was how it had always been. Now, as Nason was of age, people avoided him like the plague.

Nason was pulled from his thoughts when Tanin came to a stop, his grip tightening on the other's hand. His stark white hair blew in the wind, and Nason resisted the urge to smooth it down. Tanin would not appreciate that, especially not in front of anybody. He was staring off into the distance, brows furrowed. The Path diverged now, with each going in the opposite direction. One led to Nason's destiny, the other to Tanin's. Both to danger.

"You-"

"I love you." Nason cut Tanin off, hugging him.

Nason's face was in Tanin's chest, and Tanin slowly lifted his hand to pat his head. Nason rarely showed emotions beyond curiosity as he got older, so Tanin was slightly flabbergasted. I'll-uh-be seeing you, Nas. I love you too." He pressed a kiss against Nason's temple. 

"Mhm. We'll be together in a few moons for the festival of the lights, remember?" Nason liked the Festival of the Lights. 

It was a wonderful, fleeting night, meant for blossoming lovers. Of course, Nason had no romantic relationships to speak of, but he still attended with Tanin every year. It was beatiful to watch people forget about their hate and prejudices and simply celebrate love in its purest, simplest form. 

Nason watched Tanin's figure retreat, then turned to face his own destiny. After a few minutes of walking, he reached the tree line. The trees were so tall, Nason craned his neck and still couldn't see the tops. The trunks were thick and mighty, forming a dense, impenetrable ring.

As soon as Nason passed into the tree line, all sunlight was diminished. It was the kind of darkness that prevented him from seeing his own hand Infront of his face, the only light provided by a tiny lamp attached to his belt. The small orange flame flickered weakly, hardly illuminating anything. A sharp wind whipped past ruffling Nason's hair and putting out the lantern. Darkness threatened to swallow him, but then Nason's eyes and adjusted. 

A thousand blue, bioluminescent flowers grew on the trees, falling all around him as they scattered at his feet. The Black Forest truly was beautiful. The wind, calmer now, whisphered sweet nothings as it danced by, nudging Nason further into the forest. 

*Part two coming soon!!!*