Part I

Era, the name that she was given in this life, as if, her parents had hindsight of what she held within.

In the summer of 2012, the sun was particularly harsh on the beautiful canals of Venice. But this is nothing new for the locals, as the midday approaches most Venetians close the window shutters to enjoy the cool darkness inside.

This is what Mediterranean countries are famous for, warm summer afternoons, siestas, amazing food, and a relaxed approach to life.

Just off the Grand Canal, on the intersection of Calle del Traghetto and Calle del Campanile, in a first-floor apartment.

Like most days, the window shutters are wide open because the owner is still sound asleep.

Spread out on the king-size bet that takes up most of the west side of the room, dressed in a pair of silk pyjama shorts and a matching silk button-up, with her waist-long curly, frizzy hair spread all around her, lies the sleeping ‘creature’.

As the scorching sun, coming through the window slowly climes up her body, creeping closer and closer to her face, Era starts to slowly twitch. She shifts from one side to another trying to avoid the unyielding rays of sunshine.

But, the sweet bliss of sleep is now gone, and even so, she doesn’t want to let it go, tightening her eyelids, hiding her head under the covers, behind the pillow, there is no fighting it.

Exasperated she slowly lowers her body from the bed, and as if melting, first her feet, legs after, then her knees hit the cold tiles, half on the bed half on the floor, she submits and opens her eyes.

‘I should have closed the damn shutters before going to bed this morning!’ She screeches in annoyance.

Now, fully awake, she walks to the large double windows and pulls them closed using the shutter mechanism, which probably dates to the sixties, until the room is almost in darkness.

Still lethargic, and a bit irritated, she walks over to the bathroom, switching on the large tower fan she has set up in between what is her bedroom and kitchen living room area.

In fact, her apartment is what you would call a large studio, a spacious rectangular shaped room with high ceilings. The kitchen is on the far side opposite her bedroom and the living room sits in between.

It’s located on the corner of the building, so it benefits from three double windows that mark the three living spaces, with the bedroom also providing a lovely view of the enclosed piazza from a small balcony.

When moving in there was not much that she wanted to change as the old lived-in bourgeoisie décor gives her comfort and the feeling of home. The bathroom on the other hand was completely replaced and remodelled to include a large five-person shower a roll-top bath and even a Japanese stile toilet that was a nightmare to install and incorporate with the old Venetian pluming.

In this life, she had found herself wanting nothing. Born in a well-to-do family of academics she was set for a life of comfort since birth.

This was in stark contrast to her previous one where she had to live through war, hardship, and pain.

She had to survive her parents, she had to bury her siblings and mourn alone until, in the end, she died in desolation, still hoping, against all hope that she would be able to experience a drop of happiness.

And, as her duties required, once she was reborn and past the age of six, she was sent to the Guardian Archives in Venice to recall and record all her experiences in detail.

Here at the same time, she would receive counselling from the senior master’s and ensure that her current existence is not influenced by her past.

This is the duty of a Guardian and as a junior, Era’s job is to first understand the human condition by experiencing it in all its forms.

Emotions are a big part of this, and the young Guardian has always been a star student, willing to take it all in and spending centuries trying to decipher the mysteries of what it is that makes us humans tick.

She finds pleasure in such things, no matter how hard or painful life is, for her, it’s all LIFE. It’s sweet and bitter, savoury, plain, spicy, and exciting, she enjoys being alive more so that her ethereal self. 

Groggy does not begin to describe her state right now she desperately wants to go back to sleep but she promised her friend Ella that she would not skip another gathering and before that, she must finish the translation on her latest project as the deadline is fast approaching.

She studied literature and languages from the beginning, this was the first life that she could indulge in having, what is considered by most, an indulgent career.

Her parents are academics with Ph. D.s currently lecturing at Oxford colleges. Her father’s side of the family are descendants of an old and aristocratic Italian lineage. Her grandmother was a Chinese diplomat assigned to Venice, which is how her parents met.  

This was the next step in her becoming a part of the Master Circle, where her goal was to become a Guardian councillor, helping her people transition from one life to another.

But she’s still at the beginning of the road, in guardian years she is still in her early 20ts, in human ones she is about three thousand six hundred years old.

Before they incarnate for the first time, guardians, are given a sort of tutorial on human lives. This is because they have choices to make as to what they want to experience. Of course, this can be changed over the course of their lives, but it is an important choice that first life. Because it will determine if that guardian will be given the chance to continue incarnating.

Guardians in their original form have no gender and can’t perceive physical pain the way humans do, so not many chose this path. But they are after all a sentient race, so it is not uncommon for incarnated guardians to develop mental health issues. For them these diseases of the mind are cancer, so the process of incarnation is closely regulated and monitored by the inner regulatory body led by the Ancient Master.

Stepping onto the cold tiles of the bathroom she is grateful that the shutters on these windows were closed all through the night and morning as the room is mildly cool. Turning on the tap the pipes in the walls vibrate a bit making noise as they hit against each other, the plumbers did their best to update them but even so when there is too much pressure you can still hear when the neighbours are brushing their teeth in the morning or getting ready for bed in the evening.

She already took a shower this morning before crawling into bed so all she must do is brush her teeth, wash her face, skincare routine, and put on some makeup in preparation for her night out.

Just thinking of the large quantities of alcohol her friends are going to make her drink, paired with her four hours of sleep sends a cold shiver down her spine. But there is nothing she can do about it she has taken way too many projects on lately and lived a hermit life for the last two months.

‘Will I even recognize Ella’s face?’ – she smiles at her reflection in the mirror thinking about how ridiculous and over-dramatic her friend’s reaction will be when they meet after such a long time.

The laziness of the sleepless knight is slowly leaving her bones as she finishes up washing her face with cold water and heads over to the vanity table on the side of her bead.

As this is the first night in months, she has gone out on the town she decides she is going to be a bit ‘extra’, so she puts on a pair of teardrop platinum and pearl earrings and a matching diamond and pearl necklace. She finished her skincare routine by putting on a sheet mask and heading over to the couch to wait for the mandatory ten minutes the mask needs to do its magic on her tired skin.

She is quite fortunate in the looks department, her parents being two very good-looking people, and from two quite different ethnicities, she inherited the best of both, in her humble opinion.

Standing at just over five feet seven inches, with long curly black hair, olive green eyes, and beautiful East Asian features courtesy of her mum she is a vision of elegance and refinement.

That is until she opens her mouth, then she is every inch her Italian dad, and a true product of her upbringing in Venice.

Continued in Part II - on the 28th.

Note from Cristina;

I had to split this a bit because in my excitement I did not realize I had a word limit on here. So decided to put this out tonight and the rest on the 28th as scheduled. 

Any feedback, comment, or criticism is welcome. 

Enjoy!

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