Every place has a guardian

Everything had rules, a set of duties to be fulfilled when the time came. Sacred Eyes had long been quiet on her perch over the church doors. Nothing had been amiss to disturb her slumber though nothing within her sights went unnoticed over the long years. So long had she remained still that lichen had begin to grow on her body but it was not unwelcome. She preferred to go unnoticed. If she was unmoving then there was peace.

This day however brought the smell of blood with the morning sunrise. Her nostrils flared at the scent bring with it the chain reaction that would lead her to full mobility. Something was not right this daybreak. It was not within the churchyard but it was not far either.

Her toes stretched allowing the razor sharp claws to extend for the first time in well near a century. The time had not seemed long or short but like any cat waking from a sunny slumber stretching was the first order. Sounds came with the scent on the air, clashing swords ringing in the mist hung hills. It was growing closer to her through the morning.

Light paws left no traces as she jumped from her perch to the shadows of the old oak. It was her ability to blend and disappear within them. Only when she had stood there for a moment surveying her territory did the true nature of the clatter come into view. A soldier battered from battle came up the church walk falling into the priest’s arms. He called for sanctuary and warned of war coming.

People, the whole parish and more; heathens, were running from the village to the church proper. There was blood and smoke coming from behind. The scene stirred something within Sacred Eyes she had never felt before. It was a burning feeling like fire but hotter and strong as steel. For the first moment in her long life it was the fury of God she felt. Unknown to even herself she was not only a watcher but a protector. The people passed and from behind came the invaders.

Her people were within when she trotted into the road. She was still invisible in the tree shadows waiting. Her wings opened and she appeared to the onslaught. Thunder cracked with her roar as the invaders fumbled to stop and retreat. One did not need to kill to fight. Fear alone could defend against many things. There was among them, one, who did not heed the warning. His companions looked on as he charged sword drawn. He swung and missed before her maw clamped down on his neck. It took but a shake to remove the head from the body.

The blood burned acrid in her mouth. Killing was against God’s will. She knew that but it was duty before sin. Duty before safety. She had been put here to defend and that was as she did. The band stood at the edge of the low church wall frozen in terror. Eyes wide as disks stared at the severed head. Another roar and they fled.

The danger past she once more took her place above the door. None had seen. None would know. The people edged out to see the enemy gone. Some gazed in wonder. Others praised God for protection calling it a miracle. Only one small boy looked up to the blood smeared statue. He saw it smile, a claw raised to its feline lips as if to keep secrecy. The boy grinned in return knowing more than God had watched over them this day.