A/N: Here is my first Destiny story. I hope you all enjoy. I figured since I spend so much time playing the infuriatingly addictive game we all know and love, I might as well write a fanfiction for it. Reviews and criticism are welcome. I would also like to thank my incredibly awesome beta.
It was a bright and shiny day as the sun rays reflected off the mountains in the distance. Across the flat of the valley lay a massive city home to millions of residents. Green houses dotted the tops of many small towers and buildings, all tightly packed together into uneven rows. People milled about the various markets and streets. Denizens of all three races ranging from humans, the mysterious blue to purple skinned awoken, to the android like Exo's milled about the Last City. The tallest and most fortified tower in the city stood high above with a great view of the traveler. Smalls ships coming and going of many different makes and models. Landing on large platforms and transmitting their occupants onto them. The only safe place for Humanity to hide from the Darkness.
The Last City was truly a magnificent sight, but even it paled in comparison to the giant white floating orb that was the Traveler. Many cracks and crevasses lined it including a large hole at its base. Signs of a battle long past against the Darkness that hounded the being for millennia and why the mysterious being was now comatose.
This Tower as it was known was where Humanity's greatest warriors lived. It was home to the Guardians, whom were capable of incredible feats using the Light that resided in them, the same energy of the Traveler itself. Guardians were the first and last line of defense against the Darkness' minions. Made of three different orders, the Guardians protected the City.
The Stalwart Titans, unyielding, they were as the wall that surrounded the city. A bulwark of strength and stoic virtue. They never relented in the defense of the city they built.
The Cunning Hunters, trail blazers in their own right, ranging far and wide to scout the wilds and hunt down the mightiest of Humanity's foes. Never backing down and never missing their target.
The Mysterious Warlocks, warrior scholars devoted to deciphering the secrets of the lost Golden Age. They are willing to search the most ancient and dangerous of ruins to find the knowledge they seek.
Threats from all corners of the Solar system emerged to tear the last city down. All hope resides with the Guardians as they train, work, die, and die again to push these forces back.
The top most platforms of the Tower bustled with activity as Guardian's milled about going to and from missions far and wide. Enemy activity had increased and many Guardians were needed throughout the Solar System.
The Titans encased in heavy armor conversed loudly, recounting valorous acts on the battlefield and the Crucible with flare and passion.
The Hunters, clad in lightly armored jumpsuits and hooded cloaks would remain outside the collectives, usually holding their own individual council or debating with another hunter on the best type of knife or dagger. A long debated issue among their order.
The Warlocks, clothed in trench coat-like vestments, were having quiet conversations which often led mild debates concerning certain aspects of history and technology.
There were also several cliques composed of all three classes of Guardians as they conversed on many topics. Showing all that despite being three different orders, they could work together fluidly, like pieces of a much greater whole.
Among them, a young warlock, carrying a stack of ancient tomes and papers so high she could couldn't see in front of her, weaved through them trying not to drop any the ancient books. Her Ghost, the A.I. companion that all Guardians had floated behind her carrying two smaller books on top of its small chassis. Despite being able to simply transmat these old texts to her inventory, and the many odd looks among the Titans and Hunters gave her as she passed, a Warlock would never risk such valuable antiques by breaking them down to the molecular level to store digitally if they were not forced to.
She made her way to the center stairs which led down a level to where the Vanguard resided. The Vanguard were the leaders of the Guardians composed of three members, which a included a Titan, a Hunter, and a Warlock. They commanded their individual orders and coordinated missions against the enemies of Humanity answering only to the Speaker.
She walked with purpose as she headed toward the trio, whom were engaged in a heated debate.
"Woah!" she slammed into a cloaked figure with an 'oof'. "Where do you think you're going Vix?"
The young awoken looked around the stack she was carrying to see who it was. Even under the hood of his cloak, she could see the amber-skinned hunter giving her a smirk on his smoothly shaven face.
She huffed, "Oh, Deacon, I was going to show the Vanguard my latest discovery. I found…"
"Nah-uh," The hunter waved his finger in front of her face. "I have been ordered to never let you past the arch if you are carrying any type of tome, manuscript, scroll, etc. Ikora Rey was pretty steamed at the interruption last time."
"No she wasn't, she seem very interested…" Vixen was cut off once more.
"That was her polite "get out of here" face. At least that is what Cayde-6 told me. So he ordered me to catch and stop you from doing it again if I wasn't on a mission. He said something about not wanting to have the frames cleaning Guardian ash out to the carpet for the next week. He also said something about not being able to concentrate while those irritable machines made whiny servo sounds while Zavala is yelling at him. It would ruin the flow of the meetings."
Vixen gave Deacon a dejected look as he turned her slowly around by grabbing her shoulders. He then took some books from her to lighten the load even if the young guardian could heft them all with ease, despite her size, revealing the young guardian's face. Her purple hair was tied into a loose ponytail with the exception of a rogue strand on the side of her luminescent light blue face while her light purple lips formed a frown as she could carry them all with little difficulty and did not really need the help anyway. Despite this, Deacon's mouth held that light smile he was well known for which only seemed to annoy her more.
"So Joan, are those books a bit heavy for you?" The silver armored eye turned toward him without too much difficulty, but he did notice the Ghost take care to not tilt in any way.
"No, but I am not sure carrying anything was necessarily part of my design, but I don't have much else to do these days." The femininely voiced ghost replied. Her warlock sent a small glare at the Ghost's subtle jab to which the Ghost rolled her eye.
"Hey, Beowulf, you want to help out Joan?" A black and heavily armored Ghost materialized next to his shoulder.
"Why would I want to do that? She seems to be handling it fine," the Ghost asked, a bit annoyed.
"You know, score points with the ladies." The Ghost gave him a 'seriously' look with its single eye as it glanced to the books Deacon himself was carrying.
"It doesn't really work that way." Beowulf said matter of factly.
Deacon smiled, "Aww, c'mon, you can't fault a guy for trying to hook his best friend up." Beowulf gave annoyed grunt before dematerializing back into Deacon's suit.
They continued to walk back to the Library where the Warlocks stored what little knowledge of the Golden Age that remained. It was still impressive, decorated with various red trim, and dark metal tables each having a small access points for digital information. Deacon had to wager that he had stepped foot here more than any other Hunter in history.
Of course this is where Vixen spent most of her time. It wasn't exactly an uncommon trait among Warlocks, but they also went out on missions and expeditions to search for knowledge and fight the Darkness' cronies. Vixen left the tower rarely. If it wasn't for the old Exo gunsmith, Banshee-44, she'd probably be here all the time.
The old timer managed to convince her to test weapons that various manufactures would give the Exo. Most guardians, the younger ones specifically, frowned upon this seeing it as something beneath them. The older ones tended to see using the weapons as a challenge as the weapons didn't always work right.
Deacon was grateful to 'ole Banshee, when he convinced Vixen to test weapons for him. It was perfect for her to get out of the tower, much to Ikora Rey's relief. It was a step in the right direction at least.
Deacon frowned as he watched Vixen race about putting the books back quickly. It was frankly unnerving how the Warlock seemed to know where each tome went without even really looking. She let out a small screech as she dropped one. To which Deacon caught with his hand while the other deftly continued balancing the entire stack of books.
"What's this?" he asked, turning it over while looking at the faded cover.
She tried to grab it, but he moved it out of reach.
"Give it back!" she shouted as he moved it at each attempt Vixen made to snatch it back.
"That one's mine," she growled as she missed it again.
"Oh, really, I thought all knowledge is precious and shouldn't be hoarded selfishly." He mocked gently.
Her pretty little face twisted more as he continued to hold it out of reach as the short warlock grabbed for the book once more. It was funny really, Deacon thought, Why doesn't she just use her jump jet?
"There is already a copy in here, that one's mine." She said, as she finally grabbed the book with a triumphant yell.
Deacon rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but ask about the book. Anything that interested his friend so was bound to be interesting,
"What's it about?"
She looked at him as she tucked the precious text back into her dark blue trench coat.
She blushed a bit, "It's about a boy named Tom Sawyer and his friend, Huckleberry Finn. They witness a murder and try to find a treasure while they are hunted by said murderer. It's really good, it takes place near a river called the Mississippi, and it was written in a time when there were only horses and carriages, and he is a bit of a prankster around his hometown." Deacon found it amusing how she seemed to liven up as she explained the book.
"Really, sounds pretty interesting," Deacon said with genuine interest.
"Yeah, if you want, you can borrow it." She reached back into her coat and handed it to Deacon, who shifted the books he was carrying to one arm once again. Vixen went to work putting those away while he examined the faded old book.
"Thanks, I'll make sure to fold the corners and bend the binding as much as I can." He couldn't help but chuckle at the way her posture straightened and her glowing light blue eyes widened almost like saucers at the statement.
Seeing it was a joke, she relaxed and shook her head, "Ass," she mumbled taking the last of the books from Deacon's hand which only caused his smile to widen even more.
"So have you been thinking about going on real missions?" It was an innocent enough question, but he could see the subtle jerk in her movements. She still can't find the nerve. It was sad to see his friend struggle so much as that internal debate going on in her head played out through her expressions.
"Did the Vanguard want you to ask me again?" she questioned though it was almost a whisper.
He sighed.
"Vix, I know you're afraid to leave the tower, but it has been about thirty years. I know you blame yourself for Lindsey-1's death, but you had no other options." He moved and laid a hand on her shoulder.
She turned her head away. "I can't. I won't."
"Vix…"
"No!" she pushed his arm away, "I won't let anyone die for me again. I need to stay here so I am not out there being a liability." She stepped back and grabbed her head as she remembered that day.
Deacon stood there, "She knew what we had to do. She died for you and me. If she didn't…"
Vixen shook her head violently, "No!" and practically ran out of the library, catching the gazes of many of her fellow warlocks and other guardians present. Joan still hovered uncertainly next to him.
He shook his head, "It still affects her?" Joan bobbed herself in the ghost version of a silent nod before following after her Guardian.
Deacon stood there for a while before pocketing the book and walking away. He'd give her time to calm down before talking to her again.
Cayde-6 was hoping for a better outcome to the task he asked of Deacon. Vixen wasn't the first Guardian to succumb to inner turmoil. Losing friends, lovers, and family could break anyone, even a Guardian. Still it was a sad and sorry sight to see. He looked over at Ikora from his side of the table, the dark skinned warlock was analyzing some data or going over more reports. He shook his head and rubbed his forehead and ran it down his blue and silver faceplates to his chin.
Things were getting worse in the solar system. He had really hoped things would calm down after Skolas was re-captured but things only seemed to amplify. First off Eris Morn only seemed more agitated as the crazed, ghostless hunter was spouting more about the increase in Hive activity all the while clutching her weird glowing rock with an iron grip. He wanted her to just sound like a crazy madwoman, but she knew more about the Hive than anyone else since Toland the Shattered went insane. Seemed a running theme among Hive experts.
The big and cumbersome Cabal were ramping up activity on Mars, slowly expanding their exclusion zone. The insectoid Fallen, of course, were riled up after the supposed Kell of Kells nearly tore them all to pieces in a vain attempt for power. The machine-like Vex were being, well, Vex and doing something involving time and more robot stuff. He would never understand machines.
With all this, why was he worried about one Guardian's sanity? Simple, they needed her more than ever. A small group of citizens from the City had appealed to the Tower. They wanted to form a new settlement and had asked for a Guardian or two for protection from the Fallen. The insectoid race had always been the primary presence on Earth of the many enemies Humanity had.
Deacon had wanted to tell the warlock why he was pushing her back in the field, Cayde-6 however wanted to not put more pressure on her. Then again, maybe that was what was probably what this situation called for?
He waited until Ikora and Zavala had gone for the day, before sending a summons to Vixen. While he waited, his thoughts drifted, thinking of how he sometimes hated this job as micromanaging was something he didn't like. Being "the man" was a curse to any Hunter. His hunters respected him, but they also grated under his constant checkups and check-ins. He knew for a fact they wouldn't do so of their own accord, being a hunter himself. Hunters weren't as regimented as the Titan's or as meticulous as the Warlocks, leading Cayde-6 to the delightful conclusion that his counterparts had it easy. He sighed as he filed another scouting report of the Fallen activity in the Cosmodrome. I should have never made that bet old friend, because frankly your job sucks. He smiled a bit while he remembered his friend and predecessor, Andal Brask.
He was removed from his musings as he saw the young warlock slowly and tentatively enter the Vanguard chambers and seeing only him, a confused look came across her face.
"It's only me, so you don't have to worry about Zavala giving you glares or Ikora's disappointed frowns." He beckoned for her to approach. As she did he hopped on the table. Sitting down he patted the spot next to him. She came over apprehensively.
"You know why I called you here right?" She nodded looking down at her feet like a child would.
Cayde switched tactics realizing he was coming off more like a parent. Damn I have been doing this job too long.
"So I hear you made a discovery, or something like that." That seemed to perk up the warlock a bit.
"Yeah, I analyzed some old texts and cross-referenced them with some possible locations for more Smart Matter." She smiled as she continued, "Best of all I may have discovered an old library which might have copies of books from before the Golden Age."
"Oh, think there is some original Treasure Islands in there?" He asked excitedly.
The Awoken shrugged, "Maybe, but I'm more of a Tom Sawyer fan." She said. She held out her hand making the universal small gesture, "and maybe with a little Charles Dickens, Tolkien, and J.K. Rowling's thrown in as well."
"Oh, that reminds me, did they ever find a copy of the seventh Harry Potter book?" Cayde questioned further.
The warlock shook her head a bit dejectedly. Cayde's robotic features formed a frown at the news.
"On the bright side, that possible library may have a copy," he nudged her shoulder with his elbow.
She smiled and shrugged, "Hopefully, it would be nice to store a digital copy for the city after recovering the text."
"I am more of a paper fan myself, but I didn't call you here to talk about books," Cayde's tone was serious, but not too serious, still wanting to maintain his openness.
"I know," Vixen looked straight ahead, not trying to meet Cayde-6's gaze.
"Look I am not going to tell you what you've been told a million times already about moving on. I know Lindsey-1's passing was hard on you so all I am going to say is this. Yes, it was your fault she is dead, but not entirely so."
Cayde half expected her to shake her head and deny it, but that only worried him more.
"That being said… You did not fail her in the way that you think," She looked at up him, her light blue florescent eyes questioning.
"You failed her by meandering your way through life after that day, looking through books that had already been deciphered a thousand times over. Deacon said you thought you were a liability that day. You're wrong, of course. That day Lindsey-1 didn't see you as a liability or even an asset. She was simply saving something that mattered to her, a friend." He let his words sink in a moment before hopping of the table. He made to leave but was stopped by the sound of her voice.
"Deacon said you and the Vanguard wanted me for something?" she asked.
Cayde-6 smiled under his hood before turning to look back at Vixen. "We'll talk about that tomorrow. Right now, get some rest." With that he left the room leaving the warlock to her thoughts.
