AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey peoples! Brokenrain here! For anyone reading this I'd like to thank you for taking even just a second to come and check out my fanfic. To those of you who read the first chapter already, you can probably tell I'm not the best, reviews are always appreciated, along with constructive criticism and feedback. I'll be updating this fiction every 2-3 days, depending on homework, track and field schedules, and holidays. I will make them as long as my muse permits. Thanks! Hope you enjoy!
XXX
"Is she okay?"
"The wounds were pretty deep…"
"Quiet! Quiet!"
The world around me blurred in and out of focus, lights becoming horribly bright, and then dimming down to almost nonexistence. I groaned, trying to sit up, but feeling a gentle set of hands press me back down into what I assumed was a bed. Although, I guess I wasn't in a place to assume things in this world…it was Earth, but not the Earth I had grown up in and learned to cope with, for all I knew these people used floating sheep to sleep in…
I let out a weak whimper, my mind fighting what I once was, and what I was now. Memories of my past fought back with memories of what I was now.
A Guardian.
A Hunter.
"You're awake!" I heard, and with a pounding heart I tried to remember whose voice it was...
Joe?
Anthony?
Ian?
No... Ghost.
"Hush Ghost." A stern voice snapped, "The poor girl is probably exhausted and she doesn't need your blabbering to keep her awake." It was a female voice, and I grimaced. Whoever this bitch was, she was NOT going to talk to Ghost like that.
"Actually," I growled, "Keep talking Ghost, it's better than that overbearing ass's assumptions."
I heard a huff, with laughter in the back of the room. Two men.
"Well Cayde, she's definitely a Hunter...and to think I had hope… Have fun."
Yep. I'd pissed her off. Mission accomplished.
"I'll pick one of my Hunters over ten of your Warlocks any day, Ikora, thank you very much." The one called Cayde snapped. I couldn't see his face, my vision still blurry and unfocused.
I moaned once more, trying to sit up. Dear God, everything hurt like a bitch.
"Easy kid." There was a slight ruffling sound, as a chair was dragged over, and he plopped down into it with a dull thud. Funny. It sounded like metal, "You've got spunk kid… I like that in my Hunters."
"Your Hunters?"
He gave a short laugh, "I should probably explain, the name's Cayde-6, but just call me Cayde. I'm a Vanguard, the leader of the Hunters that come to the Tower. What you did back at the Cosmodrome is your gift of the Light. We call it Golden Gun, a common ability of Hunters. Until you're back on the field, I'll be teaching you some of the skills you'll need. I see you've already got a knife..." He cast a thoughtful glance at the Dreg blade I had torn from one of the Fallen I'd taken out, "Whoever we were before, if you remember, probably didn't live exactly by the rules if you know what I mean… You seem to fit that category." I fixed Cayde with a look, and I can only assume he chuckled, "Anyway, we're the scouts of the City, the snipers and assassins. As you start to remember more about...before, you'll only get better."
Ghost spoke up, "And I can help!" The little bot's tone of enthusiasm made my mouth twitch up in the shadow of a smile.
"Alright, rest up kid; I'll check in with you after the medics clear you for active duty."
I nodded, thinking about all the questions I still had, but settled for a simple, "Thank you." I mentally scowled to myself as the fuzzy imaged man left the room, nausea twisting in the pit of my stomach. Whatever idiot assigned these damn medications to me was going to get a knife to the throat as soon as I was up and active once more…
XXX
It took two weeks, seven death threats, and four instances of sedatives when I finally got out of the med bay. Good riddance. If I had to be in that room for one more day I would've killed myself with that Dreg knife. As my aching legs carried me out into the courtyard from the lower levels of the Tower, I couldn't help but inhale in muted amazement.
In the open, talking as though nothing was wrong in this screwed up universe, were Guardians. Just like me. With Ghosts, much like my own. Some varied in colors, dark red with blue notches on the corners, pale green, with stripes of yellow adjourning their triangular shells… Ghost gave a slight huff, trying to break my attention away from the glamoured-up companions of the Guardians that undoubtedly had more kills, experience, and ranking than I did.
I coughed awkwardly, "I'm not really a fan of the paint jobs Ghost, don't worry."
He only shot me a look, "We should find Cayde now. With luck he's in the Hall of the Guardians."
"Yeah like I know where that is," I snorted sarcastically, "In case you've forgotten my technological friend, I just woke up from the dead two days ago. I am not affiliated with the swing of things."
"Don't be sassy."
"Bite me."
I followed him in silence towards a stairwell near the back end of the courtyard, avoiding the gazes and murmurs the odd Guardian or two cast in my direction. If things went well, they'd know who I was very soon.
I had never been so right.
