Edin and Rowan exchanged looks. "I guess we're officially guardians now, huh?" the latter said.

Edin nodded while crossing his arms. "I guess."

He reached for the nearest chair and took a seat. Rowan sat next to him.

"Hey so, I'm sorry if I bothered you on the way here," Rowan said. "It's just that I find you really interesting and I tend to talk a lot."

"It's fine." It was not.

Rowan leaned forward in his seat. His curious gaze traced Edin's slender arms, and then he furrowed his brows. "What's that?"

"What's what?"

"Your inner forearm." Rowan extended his left arm and traced a line across its inner surface. "Did you get into an accident lately?"

"Oh, this." Edin glanced at his inner left forearm. A dark purplish scar cut straight across his porcelain skin. "I didn't get into an accident. It's always been there."

"Is it a birthmark?"

"I don't think so. Arden said it's an old scar, but I don't remember how I got it."

"Is that why you were wearing long sleeves earlier?"

"Uh, partly."

Rowan gazed longer at the mark on his partner's arm. "How old d'you think it is?"

"I don't know."

And their conversation ended there. Rowan pushed against the floor and rolled across the room, resting in front of one of the windows. Edin turned his head and watched the screen. There was no sign of movement. Not even a gust of wind. Edin covered his mouth and yawned. He glimpsed his watch. It was only a quarter past nine in the morning.

Rowan swiveled in his seat, head leaning far back, arms dangling from the armrests. He glanced out the window. There was nothing beyond the glass pane other than dull stretches of sand. Rowan spun in his chair once more.

"D'you see anything on the screens?" Rowan asked.

Edin's eyes scanned the monitors. "I just see sand."

"Nothing interesting?"

"Nope."

Rowan let out a groan. "I hope something shows up soon. I'm getting bored."

"It's only been a minute since Norman left."

"A minute feels long when you've got nothing to do." Rowan got up from his seat. "I'll keep a lookout from upstairs. I think there's a better view up there."

He stood up, tramped across the room, and ascended the stairwell to the second floor. Edin did not mind. In fact, he hoped that Rowan would not descend anytime soon—he was in no mood for a conversation, one-sided or not.

***

The clock struck twelve. Edin got out of his seat and clutched his nearly empty stomach. He rose from his chair and sought a midday meal. He then halted.

He had forgotten to prepare his lunch.

Edin cursed himself. He was so accustomed to having his meals prepared for him that he had forgotten to make his own when he had to. He had seen Arden preparing her lunches the night before work and storing them inside the refrigerator. That way, she would only have to take them out in the morning and reheat them in the middle of the day. He should have done the same. Edin shook his head and ambled towards the stairwell. He hoped there was something inside the pantry that he could eat.

He ascended to the upper floor and strolled towards the pantry. His eyes skimmed the open cupboard. A basket of fresh fruits sat on the middle shelf. Below it were canned meats, bottles of sauces and seasonings, and jugs of cooking oil. Though he did have an appetite for meat, he was not sure if he would have enough time to cook and eat it. He would have to deal with washing the pan and spatula too. The upper shelves contained loaves and rolls of bread, jars of fruit jelly, and flasks of sandwich spreads. He opened the refrigerator. Plastic bags of salad greens occupied one compartment, pitchers of fruit juice occupied two racks, and the rest of the space was filled with dairy products. There were ice cubes and frozen desserts in the freezer.

Edin grabbed some butter and salad greens from the fridge and fetched two slices of bread. He brought them to the kitchenette, retrieved a glass and plate from one cabinet, and took out a knife from a drawer. He then made himself two sandwiches.

Rowan strode towards him and leaned over his shoulder. "I thought we're not allowed to eat while on duty?"

"I'm on my break now," Edin replied, spreading some butter onto a slice of bread. "My lunch break started at noon."

"Noon? Mine starts at one."

"Maybe it's because they always want at least one guardian to be on duty at all times, so they gave us different break times."

"Oh. That makes sense." Rowan tilted his head. "A sandwich?"

Edin shrugged. "It's quick and easy."

Edin walked to the pantry with a glass in hand, filled it with milk, and returned to the kitchenette. He then washed his hands and dried them. He paced towards the left side. A small handle, which appeared to not belong to any drawer or compartment, jutted from the extreme end. He pulled it. A tabletop slid out of the counter, and two skinny legs dropped down from it. Edin set his meal on the table and ate whilst standing up.

Rowan turned his head sideways to glimpse the area. "Funny how they don't give us a dining table and chair up here."

Edin did not reply. His watch told him that he had only twenty minutes left in his break, and he would still have to wash the dinnerware and brush his teeth after eating his lunch.

By 12:20 p.m. he was done. Edin returned to the lower floor and sat in front of the screens, not because he was eager to be back to work, but because his legs would rather have him sitting than standing for another ten minutes. He reclined in his seat and closed his eyes. Perhaps he could have a brief nap.

The control panel beeped. Edin jolted upright. He reached towards the panel and fiddled with a knob and joystick. A camera zoomed in, and soon he saw their first target grow larger on the screens.

A small beast was nearing the village. It was not as monstrous as the glæsseling that Edin had slain, but it was still a rather nasty thing. It looked like the love child of a wild dog and a horned demon. Its half-open mouth revealed two pairs of pointy fangs, red-tinted saliva dripping from the corners of its cracked lips. A short and sharp pair of horns protruded from the top, while its flat and broad ears rested against the sides of its head. A long, thin, leathery tail trailed behind its small yet bulky body. The most dangerous part of the animal was at the end of its lengthy appendage: a sharp and poisonous spike.

Loud stomps echoed as Rowan hurried down the stairwell. "What've we got?"

"A kleinhund," Edin informed.

Rowan glanced at the monitor. His eyes sparkled with excitement. "I'll take care of it."

Before Edin could respond, Rowan bolted out the door and dashed towards the creature. He did not go after him. Edin instead leaned forward in his seat, fidgeting as he observed his partner. He could not understand why he—or anyone for that matter—would meet a battle with eagerness, and he hoped that his enthusiasm was not the product of overconfidence.

Rowan was not far from the beast. He retrieved a metal chunk from his pocket. His hands made an outward swishing gesture, and the metal lump morphed into a dozen blades. They spun in the air to aim at the creature.

The kleinhund snarled and whipped its tail.

Rowan leaped backward, spike barely missing his chest, and swung his right arm. A knife docked its tail.

And red dripped to the ground.

Edin's body lurched forward at the sight of blood. He clung to the armrests of his chair, bowing his head to divert his gaze. The kleinhund's cries and the sounds of blades piercing skin sent warm shivers across his skin—shivers of pleasure. "No, no," he told himself aloud.

After a while, he lifted his chin and looked at the screen. Ten of Rowan's knives had pinned the beast to the ground. The remaining two merged to form a long and thin sword. With a flick of his wrist, Rowan drove the sword through the kleinhund's heart.

Dark red splattered the ground. Edin gripped the armrests tighter.

A beeping sound emanated from his pocket. Edin reached into it and fumbled with his work phone. Rowan was calling him. He picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Hey Edin, can you get some of that decomposing powder and bring it here please? We gotta get rid of this thing."

"Sure, I'll be there in a sec."

Edin hung up and bent down to reach for the lower compartment, where the substance was stored. The powder was already stored in small packs of different sizes—the larger the beast, the higher the amount of powder needed. Edin picked up a packet of powder, put it in his pocket, and walked out the door.

Rowan stood facing him, his back turned to the kleinhund's corpse.

Edin held up the packet. "Got it," he hollered. He hoped Rowan would walk towards him to claim the packet so that he would not have to near the carcass.

Rowan yelled back, "Great! Bring it all the way here!"

Edin took a deep breath. He half-ran, half-jogged across the desert plain, the packet dangling from his right hand. The scent of blood grew more intense as he neared the dead body, and with it, a sense of thirst. Edin clenched his left fist tighter in an attempt to suppress his urges.

After what felt like an eternity of running to him—which, in reality, was only ten seconds long—Edin passed the powder to his partner. "Here."

"Thanks man."

Edin mouthed a soft response and then sprinted back to the post. He bit his lip in fear.

His urges had returned.