A few notes:
-Return of Destiny encompasses all of Guild Wars 2 Personal Story.
-This story has Original Characters. If you don't like original characters getting major focus I suggest turning back now.
-This is a story that is attempting to fix some issues with Personal Story that many had grievances with, so canon divergence is going to occur but for the most part this is canon compliant with the in-game lore.
-You do not need to have studied any of the lore or read any of the books to enjoy this story.
Part I: The Call
Chapter 1: Awakening.
A long time ago, the stir of a dragon beneath the depths shook the world at its core. Tyria was devastated piece by piece, as each dragon one by one awoke. The darkness encroached upon all, and only through unity can the world know true peace without the dragons.
My friends disbanded so long ago. I wander the world now, the memories of once was, the pain of falling to pieces, lingers within me. But I will not falter. I will tell this tale, to pass on in memory. No one shall forget the sacrifices.
This was their story.
They call for the Chosen.
A woman with hair the color of blood snapped awake. The room was pitch black. Her velvet blanket was sprawled over her body.
She looked to her bedside stand, feeling around for the tip of the candle and sparked a flame to life with a snap. The room illuminated, the woman pushed aside her covers and grabbed her shawl off a chair next to her stand. Holding the candle in her grip, she pondered the voice as she moved across the room. Who exactly was this voice? Who called out to her in the void?
Chosen, that was a title she hadn't heard in a long time. She nearly stumbled down the stairs, lost in thought. Chosen, Chosen, Chosen. It was a legend from so long ago.
She stopped halfway down the staircase and faced the empty wall to her left. Pushing her weight on it, the fake wall clicked and moved. Holding the candle in hand, she entered the dusty room. The ceiling had the constellations of the night sky painted on it, the stars glowed white dots and the blue of the wisps of clouds and galaxies were enchanted to move and swirl. A bookshelf lined one of the walls, filled with tomes gathered over the generations. The woman examined the lineup of books. An old rusty book worn from age and had faded gold lining stood out. The label was "The Chosen, Closer to the Stars." She pulled the tome out and opened it to the index. Her mother would read this story to her every night as a child. Scanning the index, she found the section on the legendary Flameseeker Prophecies.
The chapter detailed Glint, a dragon of yore, who wrote the prophecy of the Chosen who would undermine the Mursaat.
The chosen who fulfilled this destiny was the woman's ancestor: Shiori, and also her namesake.
Shiori held in her grip the tome and left the library to get fresh air on her balcony. The night sky was at its darkest. Dawn would come soon. She looked to the stars, remaining constant. The lights of the sleeping city of Divinity's Reach were dim as to not overshadow the sky.
Shiori pondered the destiny of the Chosen. There was no Flameseeker Prophecies anymore. It was fulfilled and no more were written, as far as history knew. Glint had died five years prior. Yet, it was a calling to something for Shiori. Something beyond the troubles of Kryta and Divinity's Reach. Beyond the ending war between humanity and charr.
She was restless. Complacency was dull. Nobility was luxury for nothing despite her advocacy. The Chosen 250 years previous had a hand in the fate of the world. She knew then, that the threat that hung the world's fate in the balance was more serious than she thought.
The Elder Dragons must fall.
She would set out in the morning.
A white glaze of fog hung low in the air. Everything was vivid but fuzzy. In the haze of the green warm forest stood a sylvari formed with black bark, teal markings on her chest and legs and in her veins and muscles were strips of a white luminescent glow that only revealed itself at night. Her armor consisted of dark blue bark and mint green leaves.
She knew her name before she could even speak. Gwyneth.
She walked forward in the forest. A centaur talked of his virtues to others like her.
"Where life goes, so too should you," the centaur said with absolution.
"Where life goes, so too should you," Gwyneth said out loud to herself. She followed forward, a green knight running forward up a hill. She chased after the knight but he vanished from sight.
A shadow figure stood before a cliff. A greatsword made of the night and daylight sky was in their grip. "Hello?" Gwyneth called out to the shadow. They simply vanished. "Hmm…"
She turned around and others like her, other sylvari were trembling along the hill. Something, she felt something encroach upon the Dream. Something sinister and cold. It felt like it was closing in on her mind. She was vulnerable.
"Ebrox!" one sapling said to a sylvari shielding them.
The defender stood his ground. "Listen to me, saplings! You can fight this poison. Look around you. See the branches and the rocks? Take up the bounty of the land. Anything can be a weapon if you have the courage to fight."
Mean plant dogs viciously attacked them. Gwyneth picked up the vined thistle greatsword by her feet without a second thought and charged the sinister creatures. She killed them, the creatures flopping on their backs as the life faded from their thorny bodies.
"You okay?" she said to a purple sylvari, extending a hand out to her.
"Y-Yeah, I don't know why the hounds attacked me," she responded as she took Gwyneth's hand and stood up. "What's happening? Why are we being attacked?"
"I don't know. I've never felt anything like this. It's awful," Gwyneth spoke to her.
"Please, help," the sapling pleaded.
"You there, sapling. I sense great danger. Come and listen, so you can defend yourself," a cool voice called in the distance. Gwyneth snapped her head around to search for the source. A sylvari in dark green clothes and white leaves for hair waved to her. Gwyneth was confused. She could see right through the figure. The warrior walked over.
"Who are you? What's happening? And why are you so transparent?" Gwyneth asked, putting her greatsword on her back.
"I am Caithe," the transparent sylvari introduced herself. "I am in Tyria, a land far away. Soon, you'll awaken here, but for now, you live in the Dream. I can't explain right now. We must hurry. Something is poisoning the Dream."
Gwyneth frowned. "Poisoning the Dream? Is that why there are sinister hounds here?"
"Yes."
"Of course, I will do whatever I can to help you. But why me?" Gwyneth asked. "I'm not even able to use a blade with great proficiency yet."
"Your spirit is strong. Do not underestimate yourself. Head to the far embankment, and I'll meet you there. Hurry. We must find the source." Caithe took off running through the forest. Gwyneth chased after her, determined to find this source harming the Dream.
Across a bridge of vines into a wide clearing, Gwyneth felt it beneath her feet. The poison's roots spread deep in the ground.
Caithe stopped as a creature made of rotten tree roots and vines burst forth from the ground. "That's the darkness intruding upon the Dream," she told Gwyneth. "Show courage and be a beacon in the darkness, dreamer."
The warrior got her blade ready. "I'm ready for whatever this darkness throws at me." An itch grew in her heart. The Dream was calling out to her amidst this rising darkness. The sylvari was compelled to fight this beast.
The creature spread its twisted wings, decaying leaves falling off of it. A dragon.
"Something happening," gasped Caithe. "I feel…" Caithe's translucent form became corporeal. She looked at her hands. "The Pale Tree has breathed her strength into me. She's made me tangible—but only for a few moments."
Gwyneth charged in at the dragon. "We shall fight this poison together!" She ran up and bashed her sword into the head of the dragon. It wailed in anger.
Caithe threw her dagger at its claws, tearing at the bark. "Victory is just a breath away!"
Gwyneth jumped up onto its wounded grasp, climbing up the limb like a tree. Her valor shall not waver. It shall not fail. The poison will wither and die whence it came from. She climbed onto the head and stabbed her great sword into the dragon's wooden skull.
Still, even then her job was not done.
"Dreamer!" Caithe called out to her, the dragon flailing about as it struggled to keep moving. Gwyneth wobbled, falling off the dragon's head. The fog was lifting. Everything was no longer a dream.
"No…" she moaned. "I must…keep fighting!"
Teal eyes snapped open. She was trapped in something. Gwyneth felt dizzy.
A hand reached out to her in the pod. A hand wearing thorned gloves. "Sapling?" a low, serious voice spoke. It was lower than Caithe's, but still feminine.
Gwyneth reached out for the hand. She was lifted up from her pod. Warmth encompassed the air. The bright light of high noon shined down outside of the little shaded area they were in.
Another sylvari, one with tan and green leaves helped to steady her.
"Where am I?" Gwyneth immediately asked. She did not hesitate to jump to the point. "I was fighting a great evil…Are we safe? Caithe? Where is Caithe?"
The sylvari that wore the thorned gloves chuckled. "A noon bloom for sure."
Gwyneth took in full view of the one who reached out to her. She wore black leaves with a hood obscuring her hair and most of her face. Her bark was the same tone as the garb she wore. On her hood was a single golden pendant.
"Easy sapling, you just woke," the other sylvari spoke, gentle to the last syllable. "I'm Mender Serimon. Caithe was just here but she had to go speak to the Pale Tree."
"She and I fought against a poison in the Dream…" Gwyneth struggled to put the images and visions into words. So much she saw, so little ways to explain it. "I saw the shadow of a terrible dragon and the Dream called…Calls upon me to defeat it. "
The dark sylvari frowned.
Serimon was ecstatic. "By the Tree! A Wyld Hunt so soon? And such a momentous task. To be a Valiant of the Wyld Hunt is a difficult charge. Bear this calling with pride."
"I will, but how do I begin?" Gwyneth pondered. "One does not simply awaken and rush off to face a dragon."
"You start here in our forest," the mender pointed to the dark sylvari. "Melaine can show you around."
Melaine nodded. "What's your name, sapling?"
There was something strange about this sylvari, but Gwyneth couldn't put her finger on it. "Gwyneth."
Shiori packed her satchel full of food, two books, a journal, and her money. She left a will in her room dedicating where the fortune goes.
Her armor was commissioned by the finest craftsmen she could afford. Black, purple and light blue robes reminiscent of Cantha's culture as a reminder of where the Chosen came from. She pinned her hair up with a silver stick in place.
"I'm ready," she whispered. She wasn't sure if she should say goodbye to her only friend. Lord Faren would understand…Maybe.
She departed the gates of Divinity's Reach, the massive walls of the fortress no longer able to protect her. The stone path gave way to a dirt trail, leading down a slope into the village of Shaemoor. Rain poured from the skies. Shiori hoped in her gut this wasn't an omen.
Two Seraph soldiers rushed past her. Their armor was made of tarnished plates and lined with golden cloth. Recruits for the defenders of Divinity's Reach. The elementalist grabbed her staff, a simple metal rod with a light glowing at the top. Why were the Seraph rushing down to the river? She looked up. Houses were up in flames, the black roof tops falling to pieces.
"We're under attack!" a Seraph shouted. Corporeal Beirne of the Seraph ushered villagers down the hill, the Seraph recruits sprinting to the Inn by the bridge.
"What's happening?" Shiori asked the corporeal. "How can I help?"
"Centaur attack!" Beirne said. "Find Sergeant Walters! She's in charge. She's at the inn, just down the road, on the west side."
Her grip on her staff tightened. Centaurs of course. The nasty creatures would even dare attack so close outside of Divinity's Reach? Shiori sprinted down the hill to the inn after the Seraph recruits. Centaurs were charging in from across the bridge. The collective sound of hooves held no sway over Shiori. She trained for this, she was not afraid. Stopping at the bottom of the hill, she charged up a ball of flame in her hand and raised it to the sky. The magic in her grip lifted her up into the air, her staff the only connection to the ground. Meteors covered in flames rained down on the centaurs over the bridge, slamming into them and setting them aflame. The shower of meteors would hold them at bay, for now.
Her feet returned to the ground as she finished her spell. Meteors continued to rain. Shiori took rest inside the doorway of the inn, the floor and chairs all occupied by terrified villagers. The screams of the scorched centaurs mixed with the cries of the villagers.
A woman with ash hair pulled into a braid directed the soldiers to assist the wounded. She walked an elder villager over to an empty chair. "You'll be safe here." The woman, Sergeant Walters, brushed a stray strand of hair out of her face. She spotted Shiori standing in the doorway, eying her armor and staff.
"Sergeant!" a Seraph soldier brushed past Shiori and saluted to Walters. "There are more centaurs on the other side of town. Captain Thackeray's calling for reinforcements at the garrison!"
Walters sighed. "If he's calling for help it must be serious, but I can't spare anyone."
Shiori stepped forward, planting her staff firmly on the wooden floor with a thump. "I'll go. Captain Thackeray's never failed Divinity's Reach. If I can help him, I will."
Walters nodded. "Balthazar bless you. That's the spirit that'll win this war. Good luck."
"Thank you, Sergeant." Shiori waved her off and sprinted back out into the storm. "I refuse to let this town fall," she said to herself. "Not on my watch." Perhaps this was a part of her path, the path towards the Elder Dragons.
The meteor shower ended. The centaurs were regrouping and marching down the pathway towards the garrison. Shiori dived towards the ground, rolling forward way past the remaining pack, leaving a trail of flames in her wake.
She ran as fast as she could over a bridge to the gates in a pathetic attempt to outrun the experienced four legged centaurs. She dived into the garrison, the Seraph guard closing the gates behind her.
"You okay soldier?" one of the Seraph asked her as she was bent over, hands on her knees as she gasped for air.
"Ye-Yes," she replied.
"You're the help Walters sent?" a man asked.
"Yes," she said her breathing slowing. She looked up and saw the face of the man. Clad in winged silver armor, a golden decorative cloth covering his breastplate, and a long sword in his grip, was the legendary hero Logan Thackeray. His ashy brown hair stuck to his face in the rain. He looked at the woman in concern, hand extended.
She took it, startled that this was the Captain of the Seraph and the living legend caring about her own safety. "Y-Yes sir!" She saluted.
"Man the defenses then! What is your name and your strengths, citizen?" he asked, jogging over to the other side of the garrison where the gates remained open. Shiori nearly tripped over herself trying to keep up.
"My name is Shiori. I'm an elementalist sir!" she told him loudly over the thunder from the sky and the hooves of centaurs.
"Then stay back and range them. I cannot afford to lose any more in this siege," he ordered her, diving into the front lines as the centaurs from the bridge by the inn finally came around the garrison.
Shiori nodded. Eager to prove herself to the captain, she ran up the stairs to the overlook of the garrison to catch the charging centaurs by surprise with ranged spells. To her nasty surprise, a single centaur was off in the battlefield, his staff raised and glowing. The barren, scorched earth was crumbling and shaking around him.
"Oh no," she whispered. "Captain Thackeray! There's a centaur sage out there!" she exclaimed as she ran down the stairs. She summoned lightning to her palms, swirling the air around her to move faster.
"What?" the captain said as he cut down another centaur. The pack finished off, he turned to see the singular sage summoning in the battlefield. Shiori ran past him, electricity flickering off her heels.
"Rise!" the centaur sage chanted over and over. Giant rocks and roots were lifted from beneath the earth, forming hands that channeled a bright star of light that contrasted the thundering sky. The rain had slowed to a mist.
The centaur smirked at his work and ran off, his ritual complete. "Destroy them!" he ordered the elemental.
"By all Six Gods, what is that thing? It's huge!" a seraph soldier exclaimed, eyes wide. Shiori had to stop before the massive thing.
"An earth elemental, a big one," Shiori responded. She could have never conjured something this impressive.
"And a threat. Forward! For the queen!" Thackeray raised his sword and charged with the Seraph into the fray.
Shiori ran on ahead, her staff glowing in the storm. Rocks bombarded her from all angles, causing her to roll about on the ground to avoid a rock to the face. She gritted her teeth in frustration as she got up from the dirt. A meteor shower was out of the question. Hand on her staff, a fireball lit up in her palm. She threw the fireballs at the base of the hands. Cracks formed in the rocks with each blast of fire.
She leaned down to the ground and placed her hand on the dirt. A magical lava fissure appeared at the base of the rock hands, eating parts of the cracked pieces.
"Watch for debris! Keep your heads down!" Thackeray warned. "Rally to me if you need to recover!"
Seraph injured by flying rocks limped over to him as he formed a protective bubble. Shiori sprinted around the giant elemental. There had to be a weak point, everything had a weak point. The center where a beam of light had to be its heart.
The rain had faded away. Thunder shook the air overhead as the earth elemental tossed pieces of rock, roots, and siege.
Forming an arcane shield around herself, Shiori stabbed her staff into the ground and flickered sparks of lightning in her palms. Thunder roared from the sky, reacting to her power. Raising her hands up in the air, the sparks of energy setting fire to the air. Large volts of lightning rained down from the skies, blasting apart the hands of the elemental.
A seraph soldier got thrown back by a piece of debris, skidding across the ground. Thackeray ran over to her, healing her up. He stared with wide eyes as he helped the soldier back up, at the elementalist channeling a large electric storm, destroying the elemental. It crumbled; the light in its heart fading.
Shiori lowered her hands as the rain storm finished its job. A satisfied grin grew on her lips. She did it. "Yes," she whispered.
The elemental's energy had to go somewhere though.
Thackeray saw the gathering energy of the broken magic of the elemental. "It's not dead yet! Brace yourselves; I think it's going to explode!"
Shiori sprinted over to Thackeray's position, the energy building. "Look out!" she shouted over the crumbling elemental. A massive shockwave blew all the rock and debris everywhere. She jumped up in front of Thackeray as he tried to get a wounded seraph out of range. With her arcane shield, the elementalist took the full force of a giant wheel that shot out to the captain.
Her world went black.