I had no intention of killing all of my assailants, as much as the reputation of the Guardians was to be brutal and cruel, I did not revel in the incineration of the attacker. The smell of burning flesh penetrated my nostrils and the waste of what information could have been gathered from the man alive grated on me, but I was intent on making the best of the situation.

Directing the energy of the flames I sped up the immolation and drew the inferno around me, swirling like a deadly cloak about my shoulders. The blazing light dimming to illuminate my face in a hellish glow. Careful not to let the fire touch my robes or my own skin I walked towards the leader of the group. The other men broke free of their shocked petrification as the dying man’s screams faded out and bolted back towards the alley they had come from, leaving only myself and their leader on the now empty street.

Staring into my eyes through the cloak of flame the man stood defiantly even though I could see the energy pulsating in the fear part of his brain. He did not plead or beg for his life as I had expected him to, simply asked shakily if I was going to kill him too and put him out of his misery. When I told him I did not intend to kill him and that I wanted information he seemed to shrink and his shoulders slumped.

I asked him why he had attacked me and what was the root of his hatred of the Guardians. His response was unexpected, normally the commoners would not dare attack a Guardian but this man had gathered a group together intent on hunting down and capturing a Guardian. The other men had each been devastated when a Guardian had killed one of their loved ones and were intent on pure revenge. But this man, a natural leader with a massive stature that inspired confidence from the wickedest of men, was after information on the whereabouts of his sister.

As he told his tale my mind was racing. A year before, a Guardian had shown up at his home while he was working as a bodyguard to one of the local drug den proprietors demanding that his sister be surrendered to the Citadel. For what purpose he did not know, he had no way of knowing about the Chamber of Memories or the conditioning that all Guardians experienced. When his wife and son, who were home at the time, refused to give up her whereabouts the Guardian had slaughtered them where they stood and his home was torn apart to find the young woman.

By the time he had finished his tale he was sobbing and fell to his knees, begging for information on his sisters whereabouts. He had been searching the streets of New Paris, begging and threatening anyone he could find for information, and had not gathered any clues. I told him I did not know anything but if he would dedicate himself to my service I would try to find out.

Questions swirled around in my mind but I had come to the Red Light District with a purpose. I would look into this new mystery when I returned to the Citadel.

Alexander Motus, Guardian # 51