He hesitated, just looking at us. It was almost like he was studying us, or rather debating what he was about to say. He cleared his throat.
“I am Daniel Rothfeld,” he began. “When you see this tape, I will have already been murdered many years ago, because tonight I will die.”
Hadn’t Father Lonnie said something about a Daniel before? The man on the screen didn’t show any feelings of fear or even sadness. His eyes didn’t quiver as if he was reading a script behind the camera, though he appeared to have practiced this speech.
“There are some things you should understand about me,” he said. “First, is that I didn’t want it to happen this way. If I could rip the conscience out of my chest then I would, even if it meant ripping my own heart out with it. But I cannot, just as I cannot go on ignoring what I know needs to be done.”
He took a deep breath. “Secondly, this world is not what you think it is. If you are watching this tape, then I’m sure you already know that much. You likely know of the Guardians, have seen an inkling of their hold on this planet. By the time you watch this, their grip will have worsened. I know, because I am partially to blame; I am a Guardian with them.”
I heard Callista swallow hard beside me, her hand tightening against her knee.
“But despite what they may tell you, their plans are not a part of the Grand Design,” the man continued. “All is not right—in fact, few things are. The powers of the Guardians were never meant to establish them as a superior race on this planet. They have done well to hide the truth of our history—of how we really came to be in power.”
He stopped for a moment, as if considering delving more into the past, but deciding against it. Time concerned him, his voice never rushed but his mind intent on sticking to what he’d already decided to say.
“I discovered a plan of theirs,” he said. “I only had to look back—history repeats itself. The world is growing too quickly for the Guardians to keep their hold. Their power is slipping as human numbers grow. Then like a reaper, they will cleanse the world of all they deem unnecessary. It is genocide against humanity.”
He shook his head. “When you have seen the great evils that Guardians have caused, when you have seen the manner in which they have enslaved the earth, you will understand why they can no longer remain in power. You will understand why I have come to this decision.”
He finally glanced away from the camera. “I must end the Guardians. The darkness of their power must end to bring the world into a new dawn.”
A flare of static caused the tape to shift, but it restored itself a moment later.
“To do this,” he said, “means to betray who I am, to betray those who I’ve wrongfully trusted. But I have no choice. Because I am the only one who can stand against them, I am the only one who can complete this. This was the true Grand Design.”
He spread his hands. “You should also understand this: Guardians do not die natural deaths, and are therefore impenetrable to natural law and order. We will never die of age. If we are killed, there is no corpse: we turn to dust. Our essence is then reincarnated into another body, hosting off a human to continue our line. In this way, we never end, and continue to return forever.”
Mr. Sharpe, I realized. His body had disappeared! After all this time, suddenly I had an explanation for how he’d left no trace behind.
The tape went on:
“So even if I was to alert the world, as unlikely as they would be to believe me, and even if I was to form another army against the Guardians, it would be no use. Killing a Guardian would only make them return again. I found myself in a dilemma.”
Then, leaning back, his face opened with a slight, triumphant smile.
“But I made a discovery,” he said. “I do not have the time to tell you how. But I found a hope.”
Here, he reached to his side and off the camera. When he pulled his hand back in front of us, he was holding a knife.
The opaque black of the dagger’s handle looked like it was made out of charcoal, wrapped in complicated swirls around a yellow guard for the bearer’s hand. The weapon was no longer than his forearm from hilt to tip, and the way he held it so lightly made it appear almost weightless. The long edge itself grabbed my attention at once because it didn’t appear to be a knife. In fact, the entire length of the razor looked exactly like a giant feather.
“This is the Blade,” he said, voice dropping to a strong tone filled with intensity. “This is what they fear.”
He was holding the Blade a safe distance from himself, but still his other arm and shoulder were drawn back. He looked nervous just holding it.
“This dagger has a power opposite to theirs,” he said. “One cut from this weapon strips a Guardian of their power: making them just as human as those they despise.”
The three of us sat dumbfounded, and I closed my mouth when I discovered that it was hanging open. My eyes crept to the side, trying to gauge their response, trying to see if their breath had also increased its pace with every sentence the man on the screen had spoken.
Thad’s eyes were still locked on the television. Callista’s hands were now clenched. Daniel Rothfeld paused, letting the weight of his words sink in before going on.
“So this was my plan,” he said. “I was to remove their powers, to make them human. To force them to be equals. But I have already failed in my mission. I’ve been found out. I know I will be killed tonight.”
He said this flippantly, like it was merely a small roadblock. But of course, I realized. He was a Guardian. If they killed him, he knew he’d just come back in another life, right? That piece was so vitally important that I was shocked I hadn’t figured it out on my own.
“I could try to run, but it is too late for me, and the risk is too high—they would catch up, and then have the Blade,” he continued. “They are on to me, and I have been told by a confidant that they will end me tonight.”
Finally, there was some inkling of emotion, just a prick of sadness in the man’s blankly staring eyes.
“When a Guardian is killed, his two Chosens vanish immediately as well,” the man continued. “But that is their duty. My Chosens will die with me. It is the only way. But we will see each other again.”
Even such a small reaction to the thought of his Chosens dying felt considerable, because for it to seep out meant that he was feeling great inner pain. He managed to push it back inside.
“So I am hiding the dagger,” he said. “They will never find it, and even if they do, only I can obtain it. And that is why I am making this tape.”
He nodded at us as if he could see is through the glass of the TV. “At this very moment, I walk among you. At this very moment, I am with you. I have left everything that I need to continue my mission as if it had never been stopped. You only need to find me…wherever I am. Find me, and aide me. I will do what is right.”
There was a click from the tape. The screen went black.
That couldn’t possibly be the end!
A burst of empty static shot through the speakers in answer, making all of us jump and Thad swear. Callista leapt to her feet to eject the tape and switched the awful noise off. The screen fizzled as it disappeared.
She spun to Thad and I, but stared at me. The room felt like it’d gone hot from our racing hearts, my hands uneasy as I tried to digest what we’d just watched. I wished that I could have read a Glimpse through videotape, but alas I could not.
“W—what do we do now?” I asked. They were both looking at me. Their eyes made me uncomfortable, as if they thought I should have the answer to my own question.