A/N
So, D is for Destiny is (or will be) available for the general public to purchase. Don't see myself getting it anytime soon, but anyway, drabbled this up in response.
Alphabet
"D is for Destiny? What the heck is this?"
"I think it's a storybook."
"A for adventure, b is for brave, c is for Cabal…"
"Is d for dread?"
"No. The Darkness."
"Oh. Makes sense I guess."
'Makes sense.' The words rolled around in Artemis's mind. Yes, it completely made sense for the Vanguard to distribute a storybook to the children of the Last City. It absolutely made sense for parents to tell stories to their children in a bid to allay their fears about the horrors that lurked outside their walls. It absolutely made sense to frame it as an alphabet book, and have nice, cutesy pictures of the creatures she fought with every day and make them look as un-intimidating as possible.
"Guardian?"
Actually, she reflected, that made a lot of sense. The Speaker had told her over a year ago, when she first arrived, that the children of the City were frightened. A year on, and she suspected that many of them would remain so. So maybe telling them bedtime stories about mean old monsters who weren't out to kill them was a completely viable strategy.
"Guardian? Hello, Guardian!"
So, ignoring her Ghost, she folded up the book and went walking along the edge of the Tower. Wondering why it irritated her so. Why one little book was giving her the urge to throw it down into the City below and do something stupid. Likely involving fists and/or firearms.
"Guardian!"
And she remembered. With a start, she briskly walked to her quarters, ignoring her Ghost's queries the entire way. Ignored frames, exos, humans, even those of her own kind.
"Guardian, I must protest-"
"I have a name," she murmured. The door to her quarters hissed open, and closed with the same sound. "Wouldn't mind you using it at some point."
"Your name is irrelevant. You're a Guardian of the Last City, a defender of the Light, a-"
"Shut up Sparky."
The Ghost let out a whir. "I'd prefer if you didn't call me that."
"Fine." She began rummaging through the box she had at the foot of her bed, drawing out guns, blades, and more guns. "I'll do that if you promise to catalogue this."
"Alright. I can advise you that-"
"But this," she said, drawing out a small, tattered volume, "is what I'm after."
She showed it to the Ghost. It drew in close. Silence lingered within her quarters. Eventually, it asked, "is that a lion on the front?"
"Some kind of cat." She opened the book. "A is for apple. B is for bee. C is for cat."
"Hmm," Sparky said. "Bees and cats are extinct. I think we might be able to get some apples."
"D's for dog, in case you're wondering."
"Dogs? Well, there's places in the City we can get dogs, but-"
"Sparky, do you even know what this is?"
"My name is not…" The Ghost sighed. "No, I don't."
"You were there. In London, remember?"
"I remember you killing Fallen and picking up loot. My job is to protect you, not keep a tally of war trophies."
"Well, fine. I'll tell you what it is. It's a storybook." She gingerly opened the pages – the same chemicals used by the libraries of the City to preserve their treasures had been applied to these pages – not enough to fully restore them, but enough to keep them from deteriorating any further. So she could see that e was for elephant. F was for ferret, g for gorilla…the book seemed to base most of its letters off animals. Animals that had been extinct for centuries, read by a member of a species that had tethered on the edge of extinction just as long.
Are the Awoken nearly extinct?
She couldn't say. This was a book written by humans, for humans, without expectation of it ever being read by non-humans. If she showed it to one of her 'kin' on the Reef, they'd probably laugh before sending it out an airlock.
"And z is for zebra," Sparky said, finishing a scan of the book. "Hmm. Is that 'zee,' or 'zed'? Goodness me, your language is so confusing sometimes."
'Your' language, Artemis reflected. She laid down on the bed. 'Your,' not 'our.' Maybe it was to be expected from a machine that called her "Guardian," and expected to be called by the name of "Ghost," let alone being addressed at all.
"That's a storybook," Artemis murmured. "No aliens, no Darkness, no…no…"
"No what?"
"No…fear, I guess?" She sighed. "The Golden Age. We spend our whole lives hearing about it while trying to find relics from it." She closed her eyes. "And I can't remember a damn thing about it."
Sparky hovered over her. "It must be…hard. I wish I could help, but only the Traveller can speak of that time with authority."
"I know." She picked up the book, looking at a yak, then a xylophone – apparently the author couldn't think of any animal that began with "x," and right now, she couldn't think of one either. "Just…maybe the children will get a book like this. Maybe…" She slammed it shut and tossed it to the floor. "Maybe I'm just crazy."
"Oh, you're not," Sparky said. "Homicidal, enthusiastic, reckless…but no, not crazy. Not yet at least."
"Is that a possibility?"
"It's a possibility that the Darkness could come tomorrow and end all life as we know it. It's a possibility that this is just an elaborate vex simulation. Everything is a possibility."
Artemis smiled – was Sparky trying to cheer her up? Well, it was working, even if she wouldn't admit it. Working well enough to pick up the storybook the Vanguard had sent out.
"So," she began, "e is for Earth. F is for Fallen. Any idea what g is?"
"I already know. Would you like me to tell you?"
"No," Artemis said. "I think I'll just read and find out."
"Some might say you're too old for children's books."
"I'm centuries old – by that logic, I'm too old for any book."
She expected Sparky to point out it was faulty logic. But he didn't. He just hung there, in silence, as she learnt that 'g' was for Ghost, and 'h' was for Hive.
She even learnt what 'i' stood for. Not "I," as in herself.
But it felt good to be here. To just read and be alone, however briefly.
