The Cryptarchy Novices stared at Quarrel as she strode through the Archives. Stare they should — she hadn't even changed before leaving the Hangar to find Zinnia. She was covered in Fallen blood and that gaseous Ether, which tended to leave purplish stains. She was sure she didn't smell great either.

Zinnia stared too when she found her. The Warlock was at her desk, for once actually doing work, scribbling away at some forms. Her green eyes widened at the mess on Quarrel's armor, her expression flashing through surprise and then what looked like regret. She stowed her pen in the ink pot, not noticing her vestment sleeve marring her writing on the page.

"I've got something for you," Quarrel said.

"I messed up again," Zinnia sighed at the same time.

The blinked at each other, hesitating.

"Sorry. You first," Quarrel said.

Zinnia twisted her hands in her sleeves.

"I had a present for you, but it got lost," she said glumly. "Typical, huh? I guess I will just have to say sorry the old fashioned way."

"You don't have anything to apologize for," Quarrel said firmly. "I should be apologizing to you. What happened to Ghost wasn't your fault. I was just scared. And a jerk."

Zinnia shrugged, still twisting her sleeves.

"You weren't yourself," she said. "I'd have done the same if it were Perdita."

"Maybe, but that doesn't excuse what I said." Quarrel unslung her pack from her shoulder and opened it. "So, if you'll forgive me for stealing your idea, I actually have a present for you."

She placed the orange NLS drive on the desk. Zinnia frowned at it, uncertain what it was.

"Polaris came through," Quarrel said.

"Is that a drive?!" Zinnia yelped, loud enough to echo in the grand chamber.

"Sure is," Quarrel grinned.

"But how did you…Polaris said it was lost!" Zinnia gaped at her. Then she straightened up, crossing her arms in front of her chest and leveling her with a suspicious look.

"You went with him!" she said, shaking her head incredulously. "I didn't even think of that!"

"Actually, I went with Dane," Quarrel admitted.

"I didn't think of that either!" Zinnia sighed.

"I know you sent Polaris after the drive," Quarrel said. "But what I don't know is why."

Zinnia looked surprised.

"Isn't it obvious?" she asked. "It was for you!"

Now it was her turn to frown.

"Why? I've been…you know…"

"You need a jumpship that can break orbit," Zinnia said. "I knew where to get a drive. I wanted to make things up to you," she finished, shy once more.

This again. Why did Zinnia think it was all her fault?

"Zinnia, there's nothing to make up. I was wrong."

"I could have done better," Zinnia said quietly.

"Zinnia —"

"No, I mean it," Zinnia cut in, strangely urgent. "I know that I'm not very good in the field. I know that I should work harder."

"There's more to fireteams than fighting," Quarrel sighed. "Believe me, I've learned that the hard way. Don't sell yourself short. I'd never be where I am without you."

Zinnia looked away at the tall window by her desk.

"I'm going to be spending a lot more time with the Cryptarchy," she said after a few moments. "I've decided I really want to join them." She looked back at Quarrel, green eyes fervent. "But, um…do you think you could teach me some stuff about fireteam strategy? Maybe I could join you on patrol sometimes?"

"You can always join me," Quarrel said. "You don't need to ask."

Zinnia smiled.

"This is all wrong," Quarrel laughed. "I'm supposed to be asking if you'll run with me! Will you?"

"Can I make fun of Dane?" Zinnia asked hopefully.

"As much as you want."

The Warlock's eyes gleamed.

"Take the NLS drive," Quarrel said. "It's yours now."

"Nuh uh," Zinnia said.

"What? Why not?"

"I don't have a ship," Zinnia shrugged.

"So hold onto it until you get one!"

"No! I got it for you!"

"I'm giving this drive to you whether you want it or not!" Quarrel said, hands on hips.

They stared each other down.

"How about we split it?" Zinnia suggested.

"How does that work?"

"If I give my drive to you, then you have to let me ride in your ship."

Quarrel grinned.

"Deal. Let's just call it our ship."

They shook hands on it.

"I hope you're free later tonight," Quarrel said. "There's a big party, and I won't go if you won't."

"A party?" Zinnia was delighted. "What for?"

"It's a long story. I'm sure you'll hear all about it tonight. Every embellished detail…"

For all her calm demeanor and gentle voice, Ikora Rey was a very hard person to be around. There was just something about the Warlock Vanguard that made Quarrel want to stand up a little straighter and wipe any foolish smiles off her lips. It was much the same feeling with Commander Zavala, whose imposing presence had already been the herald of a litany of her wrongdoings over her short Rebirth. Even good humored Cayde was of little comfort at the moment. He watched her with keen blue eyes, arms crossed and leaning against the long table in the Vanguard Hall while she relayed the story of the Archon.

She could feel Tory and Polaris standing behind her, just as fidgety under the eyes of the three Vanguard leaders. Beside them stood Gelert and Guinefort, only slightly more at ease. The Hunters didn't like coming to the Hall, but they had overcome that dislike in order to be present when Quarrel told of her triumph. Their triumph. It seemed Hunters would put up with a whole lot of discomfort if it meant the chance to revel in a good story. All of them were freshly dressed, looking their best for a formal report.

Ghost hovered at Quarrel's shoulder, his shimmering hum a familiar comfort. Every now and again his fins would twitch. She was certain he was as nervous as she felt.

Quarrel paused, trying to find a good way to say what came next. This was no time for boasting. The colorful phrasing her friends had come up with about the fight was amusing, but would be petty in a Vanguard report. That same colorful phrasing did make her rash decisions sound much more palatable, though.

"I engaged the Archon with a knife to its neck, jumping onto its shoulders and cutting through the Ether supply on its helm," she said. Cayde's eyebrow plates climbed. Ikora's thoughtful frown twitched. Zavala merely inclined his head a hair, as if he wanted to nod. In approval? She hoped so.

"The diversion was enough for the others to take it down. I…was indisposed. Um, killed," she finished lamely.

Cayde snorted, echoed by Tory behind her.

She pressed on, hoping to breeze past the discomfort of her death. It was hard enough to admit that she had been done in. It was also difficult to wrap her mind around. She had died. Again.

"Guardian Gelert had stowed the NLS drive in safety on her ship —" no sense getting into the bickering — "and after that, it was decided we would extract and return to the Tower."

She glanced between the Vanguard.

"That's everything. I think."

Ikora tapped a finger against her lips. Cayde looked between Gelert and Guinefort. Commander Zavala spoke first.

"A triumphant return, indeed," he said, his deep voice softer than his icy eyes. "We have heard Dane's report, and it matches yours. Mostly."

Quarrel tried not to fidget. Dane was the only one who wasn't here. He'd probably figured out by now that he was never getting the drive. Apparently that wasn't sitting well with him.

"I admit I had my doubts about the…validity…of this mission," Zavala said, choosing to brush by the disparity. "It seems nothing short of being thrown in the brig is going to keep you from the Cosmodrome for long." Quarrel held her breath, waiting for the punishment. He'd said she could go with experienced Guardians, but oh, she'd known she was taking a risk by actually going. Especially after the disaster of her last mission.

"However, another NLS drive recovered is always a victory. And I must say, taking out an Archon is something I couldn't have hoped for in my wildest dreams. Very well done." He addressed that last to all of them.

Quarrel almost asked Zavala to repeat himself. Was he praising them?

"Indeed," Ikora murmured. "The Light is strong with you, instincts are sharp. You all have done a very great service for the City today."

"And now the hard part is out of the way, what with your first resurrection," Cayde said. Of course he would bring that up. It must have been a Hunter thing. Tory snorted again.

"Ghost did very well," Quarrel said, glancing at her companion. "I didn't even realize what had happened until it was over."

"Your Ghost has always been a quick study," Ikora said.

Ghost gave a happy chirp and glanced away, suddenly self-conscious.

"I have to give credit where it's due," Quarrel said, gesturing to the Hunters behind her. They were all standing a little more at ease now that there was no yelling coming. "Without their guidance and support, I surely would have been lost. I owe much to Dane too." she added. He may have been a double-crossing stick in the mud, but she couldn't forget that he'd fought to save her all the same.

"We are pleased you were all able to guide a new Guardian so well in such dangerous circumstances," Commander Zavala said.

"Those Hunters are some of my best and brightest," Cayde said smoothly, as though he had personally overseen their Rebirths.

Tory and Polaris both stood taller, chests puffing and satisfied smiles growing.

"Get that drive to Holliday, new kid," Cayde said. "The sooner you can get to orbit, the sooner we can send you in to clear out Luna."

She blinked in surprise, unsure if he was being serious. Cayde didn't seem to mind the ambiguity.

"All in due time," Ikora said firmly. "For now, your commendations are officially noted. Get some rest. You've earned it."

Rahool shut the study door behind him and dropped a stack of books and papers onto his desk. At last. He breathed a sigh of relief, a little easier now that his blasted cold was dwindling away, and pulled up Tower intranet on his datapad. A pot of tea was in order, right away. He'd get the tray delivered from the kitchens and maybe find a couple of things to nibble on while reading. Such as the little tin of cookies Riva had brought in this morning. They were a favorite of his, a shortbread confection from the City that he remembered from his very first nights within the Walls. He helped himself to a couple while shrugging out of his heavy winter robe. Now that he was officially off duty, he could just make do with waistcoat and shirtsleeves.

He pushed back his cowl and sighed again, rubbing his eyes and running a hand through his hair. Blessed Light of the Traveler, how could he be so tired? There was so much work left undone, and he felt like he had left his bed an Age ago. The meetings with the Foundry residents had really taken what energy he'd had out of him. A stack of tenancy contracts thicker than the complete Pahanin Errata was waiting for him to peruse, and he could only imagine how upset Hideo was going to be once he'd gone through them and offered his suggestions for change. If these contracts were anything like they had been in the past, there was no room for his suggestions in New Monarchy's plans for the Foundry district. The renovations would stall, again, and more meetings would ensue.

Of course, that was why the residents had enlisted his help. The longer this took, the longer they got to keep their houses. He didn't have the heart to tell them that he didn't know how much longer he could help. One day, the Monarchy would grow weary. One day, they'd find a way around him.

No matter now. He was going to try and put those damnable contracts out of his mind and wind down actual Cryptarchy business for the evening.

Before long, the tea was ordered and he was seated at his desk, carefully filing away the various reports he'd fallen behind on and contenting himself with the menial but necessary busywork of his position. It was, he decided, the closest thing to a day off that he could get to at this point. Somebody had to keep this blasted place running, with all its moving parts and far-flung projects. The more fool him for putting the job on himself.

He was only a few minutes into his work before the doorpad chimed. That was unusually fast service for the kitchens, even for a quick pot of tea. As he was wondering about it, the chime sounded again. Getting to his feet, he snatched up his robes and cowl. Really, he needn't put them on to receive the staff, yet he didn't want to just wear the cowl. He couldn't stoop to the ridiculous! And leaving the cowl off was not an option. One look at the old scar always made people full of questions he did not feel like answering, now or later.

He opened the door. Zinnia smiled up at him, holding onto a tray.

"Room service!"

"What's all this?" he asked, looking dubiously at the tray. It was far more than just tea.

She bustled past him into the study.

"Do come in," he sighed.

Zinnia went straight to the desk and set the tray down right on top of his files.

"More penances in the kitchens?" he asked.

"No!" Zinnia said, starting to blush. "This was my idea."

Oh, Blessed Light. That was no comfort at all. What had she hidden in the food this time? He lifted the patterned cloth covering the tray. Aside from the teapot, there was a covered bowl of soup and a couple of scones heaped to the side. They looked like lemon.

"I was in the kitchens when your order arrived," Zinnia explained. "So Mistress Ella and I decided to make you a proper dinner!"

Of course she had conspired with the cook. This girl's life mission was, apart from pushing back the Darkness, to report on his every doing to that meddling woman. And Ella absolutely adored Zinnia for it.

Zinnia beamed at him so happily, he tried to put on a grateful smile. It was likely a rather poor one.

"Oh. That's…well, all right. Thank you."

"Are you feeling any better?" Zinnia asked. He held up a hand before she could start feeling his temperature again.

"I'm quite better now," he said. "I'm sure the soup will help." There. That sounded like he would eat it, and that ought to send her on her way.

Zinnia didn't move. Instead she watched him expectantly.

"Is there something else?" he asked warily.

"Ella said to make sure you took a bite."

The Darkness take that cook! The Darkness take this blasted little Warlock!

"Oh, for Light's sake!" he groaned. Zinnia laughed.

"She said you'd be stubborn! She said you barely eat at all!" Her green eyes fell on the cookies on the desk and her expression went even brighter.

"Ella says many things," he grumbled. He lifted the lid off of the soup. It was still steaming hot, and it smelled wonderful. Truth be told, he was a little more hungry than an appetite just for sweets.

"How about I promise to eat after I get settled at home?" he hedged. "I haven't even been through the front door yet!"

"Light! Good to know. For a minute there, I thought you lived here!"

"Ah. Well. There are days it certainly feels that way." He sniffled and fished for his handkerchief. He couldn't wait for the day he wouldn't need twenty of them shoved in his pockets.

Zinnia gave him a pitying look.

"Maybe I should have Perdita give you one more scan."

"Ah, no. That's not necessary," he said around blowing his nose. "Really, just a day or two more and I'll be fine."

"Maybe you should take some time off tomorrow," Zinnia suggested, hopping onto the edge of the desk and drumming her heels against the side. She wasn't leaving any time soon, was she?

"One would think you're trying to get rid of me. What are you up to?"

Her vivid green eyes opened wide, a look of surprised innocence.

"Master Rahool!" she protested. "Have I given you any reason to doubt me?"

He raised an eyebrow at her and she flushed again.

"Lately?" she amended. "Katilyn and Riva think you work too hard, and that's why you got sick in the first place. The more rest you can get, the faster you'll be well! I'm just trying to help!"

Somehow, he still wasn't convinced. One could never be too careful around Zinnia. It was a lot like dealing with Cayde. Light, they could teach each other a thing or two about making people paranoid! He cut to the chase.

"What do you want, Zinnia? You have the night off." Her blush went even deeper. He had caught her, all right. She never was a very good liar. "Are you so bored that you've come to me looking for extra work? I do have loads of archiving just waiting for anyone with idle hands."

Zinnia shrugged and traced the teapot handle with a slim finger. The pot was one of Ella's more fanciful collections, fashioned like a fish, the spout an open mouth and the tail curving into a handle.

"I am very busy," she said. "I really want to go to bed right now. Shenu's training exhausts me, and it's been a long, long week." Her green eyes didn't lose their mischievous twinkle, but she definitely had a subdued cast to her. No, it wasn't that…she was anxious. Nervous about something. Hedging around her point. He waited her out.

"I want to ask you something, but you have to promise you won't laugh," she said. Her expression grew serious.

"Go on."

"You promise?" She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Light! Yes, I promise!"

Zinnia's fingers twisted in her vestment sleeves. She was definitely nervous. Perhaps he ought to take a seat as well…

She watched him a few moments, as though assessing whether he would break her trust or not.

"I want to join the Cryptarchy," she announced suddenly.

He blinked in surprise. Had he heard that right?

"I beg your pardon?" he asked.

"I said I want to join the Cryptarchy. I want to take the test and Apprentice. Whatever it is I need to do to become a full member." She glared at him now, daring him to say something against her wishes. Suddenly he understood her nerves. She was steeling herself for his rejection. He opened his mouth, couldn't think of anything to say, and then laughed.

Zinnia's eyes narrowed to dangerous slits, her lips pursed in a tight line. He could almost see her curly red hair bristling in its bun.

"Hey! You said you wouldn't laugh!"

"I'm sorry!" he chuckled.

Zinnia hopped up from the desk.

"Oh, forget it! Forget I even asked!" she huffed.

"No!" he cried, still catching his breath. "No, no…sit down, girl! Blessed Light, I didn't mean any offense!"

She eyed him suspiciously. Then, with great dignity in her small frame, she glided behind the desk and sat in his chair.

"What's so funny?" she demanded.

"You don't see the humor?" he snorted. "Only weeks ago, you couldn't wait for your appointed penances to be up in the Archives. And now you want to Apprentice!"

"So? Things change. What's the big deal?"

"What, indeed?" he asked, fixing her with a stern look. Unfortunately, he already knew that she would not be cowed by this glare that worked so well on his Novices. "This is a rather sudden change of heart."

"I've been thinking about it for a while now!" she insisted.

"And your timing has nothing to do with the official Vault Project announcement to the Vanguard?"

Her mouth pinched to a scowl. Ah ha! Now the soup and scones, the personal delivery, were making more sense.

"I would be lying if I said that wasn't a factor in my decision," she said slowly.

"A factor?" he echoed. Ha! That was an understatement!

"I also realized that if I am going to spend so much time with the Cryptarchy that I might as well become one myself!" she went on. "I've been learning a lot. It seems a shame to just stop now." She was back to playing with the teapot, fiddling with the little porcelain lid shaped like a fin.

"Do you understand that Apprenticing requires a time commitment even more than what I have asked of you now?" he pressed.

"Of course," she answered serenely, studying the fish's lacquered blue eyes.

"Are you aware that an Apprentice generally isn't involved in the day-to-day dealings of special projects? Projects like the Vault?"

"You can't afford not to have me on the project," she said.

"Oh, no? Can't I?" he scoffed. Inside, however, he was scowling. Hadn't he just advocated for her to the Consensus not so long ago? "I could get a whole herd of Praxics banging down the Archive doors to take a look at our findings," he said. "In their midst, would you be able to keep to your Apprenticeship?"

She frowned, puzzled.

"What do you mean?"

"First and foremost, you are a Guardian. No Apprenticeship can change that. But if you're hoping that this will be a fast track to gaining further glory, I can tell you right now that your fellow Warlocks will only overlook you."

"You think I'm trying to use the Cryptarchy to further my status with the Order?" Her look was scandalized. And a little guilty. He'd caught her, hadn't he?

"The Apprenticeship is not some lark to cure boredom in your Warlock studies. Your Apprenticeship duties must be taken as seriously as any set to you by the Vanguard. And, frankly, I worry they would interfere with those responsibilities."

"I have done just fine so far!" she protested.

"With some creative rearranging," he reminded her.

She pursed her lips again.

"If you don't think I can do it, then why don't you come out and say so?" she snapped.

Blessed Light, she really was upset now. There was a hurt in her eyes that somehow he didn't think had come just from this conversation.

"I never said that," he replied calmly. "I just want…" he sighed. "Light, I just want you to be sure you know what you're getting into."

Her gaze was hopeful again, her sleeves twisted up into her fingers.

"Then you'll let me petition?" she asked.

This was absurd. To acquiesce would certainly be against his better judgment. Zinnia would be bored to tears within a week. She was just looking for some way to show him and the Vanguard she could do something serious before hopping off to her next flight of fancy. Light, she was…

She was looking at him with such quiet hope right now that he didn't know how he could say no.

"You may petition."

She clapped her hands in glee.

"Yes!"

He held up a warning finger.

"I said petition only. This is no guarantee of Apprenticeship! You must pass the first test."

"If you insist," she breezed. "When can we start?"

He shook his head. The Traveler save him, was he insane?

"When I am ready," he answered her. "And you'd best be on your toes, Initiate. The tests can come in surprising form." He was making that part up, though it occurred to him that perhaps he ought to choose something like cleaning her desk to be an examination. Light, that would change her tune right away!

The threat only seemed to bolster her confidence and determination. She rubbed her hands together.

"Bring it on!"

"Not tonight," he grunted. "Tonight, I'd like to get some sleep. After some soup."

She hopped up out of the chair and looked guiltily at the tray.

"Um…the soup wasn't a bribe, you know. That really was from Ella."

"Well, thank you," he said. "I appreciate the gesture and your taking the time to bring it over."

He opened the door for her, hoping she would at last get the hint. Mercifully, she followed him over. She paused in the doorway and grinned at him.

"The scones were from me, though. And those are a bribe!"

"You really thought they would work?" he sighed.

"Of course! You're not hard to figure out, you know!"

She bounced out the door.

"I have to go! There's a big party in the Lounge tonight!" She skipped down the halls, vestments swishing at her heels, the proverbial cat who ate the canary.

Sacred Light of the Traveler, what on earth had he done?