The Guardians: Book Three
by William Joyce
“But that was past. This was a different day. And through the friendship he now knew, he could change bad men to good and stone back to flesh” (Joyce, 12).
This book has a beautifully structured plot.
Like E. Aster Bunnymund and the Warrior Eggs at the Earth’s Core! this one begins in Santoff Claussen with the children. They are playing games and it’s actually cute: “In this new game of Warrior Egg tag, to be scrambled meant you had been caught by the opposing egg team and therefore, had a lost a point” (1). There’s a touch of cleverness with the children’s game-naming.
This opening, rather than feeling out of place, works for me. I don’t mind the other children so much. My previous association and attachment to them from Book 1 and Book 2, makes me glad to see them happy. Additionally, the peaceful, happy set-up into story is a relief after the battle at the Earth’s core and North’s near death. I feel good seeing the characters this way.
The chapter proceeds to explain what the children and the Guardians have been doing since their last fight with Pitch. One thing I liked was how
ALION EXHALED SLOWLY. The rich sweet aroma of flowers, speckled with a hint of moisture, filled his nose. He sighed, sinking against the spongy moss at the base of the tree. It had sprouted up with the recent rain, spreading out like a carpet at the base of the tree. The rest of the thin forest on the east side of the hills had grown a step or two back from the moss-tree. Their heavily blossomed branches still cast fragrant shadows over the prince and blotted out the glare of the noon sun. But enough sunlight reached Alion to make him think he was a flower, too. Basking in the sun and sinking down lazily in the soft earth.
Written: 11 May 2016
THE LEAVES RUSTLED. Green rippling shadows scampered over the flower-strewn forest floor. Rocks glittered like diamonds beneath the gushing stream; a white flower, petals unfurled like a tiny star, landed in the water, purple calyx bobbing under the current. The fresh, sweet scent of lemon blossoms wafted over the stream like a private paradise. Inhaling the aroma, Alion concluded that spring in Ihlex du Qadeste was a gentler, more delicate art.
Written: 10 May 2016
Words: 71 words
DELICATE IVORY TEARS fell on yellow daffodils. Holding her hand up to the sky, Azana felt the kiss snow on her palm. Around her, the spring flowers nodded gently at the white cloud cover. Lacy snowflakes adorned their soft petals.
Azana squinted over the garden walls. Snow dusted the road as well. A tiny sparrow puffed up his feathers, scattering fine powder before flying off to the nearby forest.
She rushed inside.
“Alion! Have you–”
Azana fell silent; for once Alion was up and dressed. His sword was strapped on his back.
Written: 26 April 2016
Inspired: weather + Romance of Three Jewels
I GAZED UP into a bouquet of green.
White feathery buds encased in emerald sheaths dangled strings of seeds over my head. Pink blossoms bobbed in a gentle wind, cheery chartreuse leaves smiling at their neighbors. And closest to my face, yellow flowers sprouted off curling vines, hardy creeper clinging to a fragrant fir. Snorting, I noted that even the evergreen had produced new cones; their young, green scales nodded at me from their branches.
I rubbed viciously at my eyes. Spring had officially struck and invaded.
Written: 3 April 2016
Words: 86 wds