Cayde was gone when they returned to the Tower and Wren was a little disappointed. So much for that "cool" place he'd found a map to. But with Flak staring her down from beside Zavala she thought it was for the best that Cayde was absent again.
"As soon as Cayde returns we'll discuss the next steps to the Black Garden. I think that perhaps a more experienced team should handle this," Zavala said.
"They've proven themselves capable," Ikora said.
"With all due respect," Rorick said, "We've seen this through so far. My team deserves the chance to follow through till the end."
Zavala met his gaze with an even expression, rolling the Gate Lord's eye between his palm and the desk before glancing at Ikora.
"We'll wait for Cayde, but I also think they should be allowed to move forward with the next step," Ikora said.
Zavala mulled over this for a moment. "We'll send for you with our decision when we make one. For now, rest and recuperate. Even if we don't send you to the Garden, there's plenty else for you to do."
Outside Rorick propped against the railing, arms folded tight across his chest. Flak left without a word and the tension in the air lifted slightly.
"They have to let us carry this through," Beorn said.
"After all that shit we did to get that Gate Lord eye?" Franz braced his fists on his hips. "Why would they want to send in another team? Don't they think we can handle this?"
"There are more experienced teams," Sisre pointed out. "Teams that have been together a lot longer than us."
"That shouldn't matter," Franz argued.
"Why don't the rest of you get prepared just in case," Rorick said, cutting his team's conversation short. "I'm going to stay right here and wait for Cayde. If I can convince him, then Zavala will have to reconsider."
"Alright," Franz muttered. "We'll show Wren that place on the wall before we head down into the City. You wanna come, Sisre?"
Wren perked up. "What place?"
Sisre winked at her. "I'll catch up later. I have to talk to Banshee about this scout rifle. The bolt keeps jamming."
"Gotcha. And good luck, Rorick." Franz turned to Wren. "Why don't we get changed outta this armor and get it repaired while we head down to the wall?"
"Sounds good. I'll meet you both back here in what, twenty minutes?" Wren said.
Beorn and Franz agreed and left for their rooms. Wren was so excited about what they might show her that she almost walked out without her shoes. She slipped on the soft white satin flats and headed back to the Courtyard with a bag full of armor.
When they dropped their things off to be repaired, Beorn and Franz led the way down a side stairwell that was just metal grating that opened up to the forest below and just beyond the wall. Trees grew right up to the wall and the wind that blew up the side and through the grating made her have to grab her flowing white dress and hold it against her legs.
"Why do you like those things?" Franz laughed as he watched her struggle.
"Because they're pretty and comfortable," she snipped back.
"Pft, girls," he scoffed and Wren punched his shoulder so hard with her free hand that he stumbled into the railing.
"At least I don't wear dresses into battle," she jabbed.
"Hey, cloaks don't make much sense either. Remember when that Hive nearly snatched your head off?"
Wren started to laugh but a more recent memory caught her instead; that of Flak stomping on her cloak mid roll and getting her shot. He'd almost gotten her killed.
"What's wrong?" Beorn asked, picking up on the change in her immediately but she'd never told them about her issues with Flak before.
"Nothing, just… remembered something is all. Are we almost there?"
Beorn stared at her a moment longer but decided to drop the subject. "It's a little ways down the wall."
They walked past little shops that people had set up, but for the most part it was arches, mosaic walls and pillars, decorated with strange windchimes of gold, faded tapestries, and flowing cloth that had likely been left by revelers to some event.
Soon the decorations became sparser and the wall more harsh looking. There was a section that split off to the left, toward the City, that looked to be crumbling but among the rubble was a steep set of stairs winding down to an abandoned building.
The door hung loose on its hinges, swingly slightly in the wind until Beorn kicked a rock under it to stop it. The side of the building that had faced the City was missing, where there was once a wall was now a gaping hole. Most of the roof was still intact, though some of the terra cotta colored tiles had fallen off and shattered onto the floor below. Mosaic tiles were broken over half of the floor but still showed a beautiful mandala pattern spiraling outward from the center of the room.
To the right was a sheltered area with a workbench, already prepared for her. A stool was pushed under it and there were tools hanging on the wall over it. To the left was a picturesque view of the Last City.
"It needs a little work but we thought you might like it since you Hunters like to be away from the Tower most times," Franz said. "And since you don't belong to a Hunter's den yet, maybe this will make up for it."
"I still don't understand why you haven't been chosen for a den," Beorn said, grabbing a broom to sweep the floor. "With all that you've accomplished in such a short time…"
"I think it's because of that damned Flak."
"I don't really understand the point of the Hunter's dens," Wren admitted, helping Beorn clean up and wishing she hadn't have worn such a light, white dress.
"It's just a place for Hunters to hang out and gamble and trade weapons and armor and stuff. Split loot, join up for missions, whatever," Franz said. "If Flak was worth a shit he would have asked you to join his. That's how most Hunters get into dens."
"I wouldn't join his even if he did ask," Wren said.
"Good."
"I suspect being close with Cayde is one reason you've not been asked to be in a den," Beorn mused.
"We're not close. And even if we were, why does that have anything to do with it?"
"Being around the Vanguard so much right off the bat makes people watch you even harder. They want to make sure that you're not going to show them up. Be useful, but not overshadow them."
"Makes you wonder how Flak got into one. He's worthless. Wish we could get rid of him and get another Hunter."
"Why can't we?"
"Well," Beorn began, sweeping dirt and debris into a corner. "We probably could. But right now, while we're on the rise and wanting that chance at the Black Garden, it would be unwise of us to request a change. Zavala likes to keep teams together for as long as possible. Builds trust and synergy."
"Builds my desire to kick his ass," Franz muttered, throwing a rock out the window to bounce along the wall below.
"There will come a time when we are stable enough in the Vanguard's eyes to ask for him to be swapped out. We'll just have to be patient."
Wren wondered how long that would last before Flak's behavior went totally overboard.
"Oh, almost forgot," Franz said, handing Wren a small metal box. "We found this awhile ago and we're not sure what it is but if you want to learn more about wiring and stuff so you can help us with the Sparrows, this is a good way to start. Just tinker with things. You already know the basics, maybe you can figure out what this thing is for."
"Thanks," Wren said. She examined the box, which had a small display screen that was cracked too badly to be any good. There were a few buttons with plus and minus signs as well as arrows and a square, though she wasn't sure what any of it meant.
"You could go into the City and get some things to decorate this place," Beorn said. "The sunsets from here are fantastic. We're about to head down now if you want to join us? I have some Glimmer saved up for a new Warlock bond I've had my eye on. I'd like to get it before we have to leave again."
Franz snorted. "This guy and his accessories."
Beorn crossed his arms and rocked back on his hip. "Do you really want to go there or should I keep my mouth shut about your robes having to have just the right color of stitching? Or how you're so particular about the fabrics and cut that you hover over the tailors to the point that they dread seeing you come into their shops?"
Franz eyes grew wide. "Okay, time to go."
"I'll see you two later." Wren laughed. "We'll catch up for lunch or something. And thanks again."
The pair of them left, whispering and bickering the whole way.
Kiran appeared in a flash and examined the space while Wren explored the many drawers of the work bench. She found the tools she'd need to take apart what Franz had given her.
"This place has potential," Kiran said. "But I'm sure you'll be asked to join a den soon."
"I don't mind," Wren said, prying the metal cover with the broken display off the device to reveal a few wires and what looked like a sort of memory chip and a microprocessor. But these were different than most of the ones she'd seen while tinkering around in the hanger.
"Look like it might be Golden Age," Kiran said.
"And idea what it is?"
"No telling. Sometimes Cryptarchs decrypt strange things and no one can figure out what they are."
"Does this look like a tiny speaker to you?"
"Hmm, maybe it's some sort of comm system."
Wren fiddled with the wires for some time before a crackling sound burst forth from the speaker and she jumped.
"Is that music?" Kiran asked.
"I think so but this speaker is no good. I can't make anything out."
"Well, we could go into the City and see if there's a speaker down there. They can be hard to find though."
"I don't know if I have that kind of patience," Wren said, plopping down on the stool. She turned her back to the bench and leaned against it.
Outside ships drifted here and there around the Tower, backed by thickening gray clouds. From somewhere far off she heard someone speaking over the Tower's intercom system, the voice little more than a metallic echoing from this distance, but a slow smile spread across Wren's face.
"Wait… you're not…. No, you can't do that," Kiran said.
"They won't miss one little speaker."
"Wren," Kiran warned, but she was already jogging up the stairs, skirt hiked up around her thighs.
Within a half an hour she was bounding back down the steps, speaker tucked under her arm. Kiran's shell whirred sporadically, and he kept peeking behind them.
"Relax," she said. "No one will know."
"Of course, they're going to know!"
"Do you think we should decorate this place like our room?" Wren mused as she connected a fresh battery and the speaker to the metal object.
"Wren!"
"I think orange, yellow, and maybe some pink would be nice out here. Beorn said the sunsets are pretty so those colors should work I think."
Before Kiran could protest further, music blared through the speaker, echoing from the stone and metal walls. Birds squawked and took flight in a flurry of feathers and Wren's ears rang. She pushed some of the odd buttons and found that she could stop and play the music as well as adjust the volume and move between songs.
The first song that came out had a strong beat and instruments she didn't recognize and the voice was feminine but she didn't understand the language. Still she found herself smiling and tapping her foot on the bottom rung of the stool where she sat. She messed with the volume some, laughing at her own pounding heart.
"What the hell was that?"
Wren turned to see Sisre rubbing her ears.
"It's some sort of radio or something."
"Golden Age maybe," Kiran added.
"It'll give you something to dance to," Sisre said.
"I can't dance," Wren replied.
"Have you tried?"
"Well, no. I don't guess I have."
"Try it. Awoken are known to be great dancers. Just feel the music and move to it."
Sisre began dancing to the upbeat music but Wren only stiffened, afraid to look foolish in front of her friend, but Sisre didn't seem to notice. She laughed and twirled and danced and soon Wren was trying it for herself, her eyes glued to her own feet and she found she didn't know what to do with her arms. She felt strange and clumsy.
"There you go," Sisre said, taking Wren's hands and showing her how to move. "Loosen up. You're overthinking it. Just let the movement flow, like when you're fighting. It's fluid and natural."
Wren still felt too clunky but Sisre urged her on and before long she didn't care about how she looked, feeling safe with her most trusted friend. This place was free of that kind of judgment and she let her energy flow, feeling ever lighter. Freer.
When the song stopped and shifted to a slower one the pair of them spun to a stop, laughing and breathless.
"I've never heard music like that," Sisre said. "But I like it."
"Me too. I'll have to show Franz and Beorn later."
"I'm about to head into the City to meet them for lunch if you want to go."
"Yeah I told them I'd meet up with them."
"Alright let's get going then. All that dancing made me hungier."
"I need to get some things for this place while we're out," Wren said, putting the music player away.
"Making your own Hunter's den?"
"Something like that. A den of one."
"Well, if Zavala lets us go to the Garden, you'll have every den in the City fighting to recruit you."
"They should have been already," Kiran muttered. "She destroyed the Sword of Crota afterall."
"I think everyone else cares more about it than I do, Wren said.
"You don't have to join one. Keep all that loot for yourself," Sisre winked. "Let's go. We're going to try out a new curry place and I'm starving."
"Is Rorick meeting us there too?"
"No, he's still trying to convince the Vanguard to let us go into the Garden."
"Do you think he'll succeed?" Wren followed Sisre back to the top of the wall and the Tower.
"I don't know what Zavala will decide in the long run, but Ikora made it pretty clear she wants us to follow through. I can't see Cayde holding us back either."
They met up with Beorn and Franz at the base of the Tower and the four of them headed off into the City's heart for lunch when a familiar voice stopped them in the street. Koro came trotting up, cheeks flushed from running.
"I've been trying to catch up with you guys," he said.
"How's it going, Koro?" Franz asked.
"Good," Koro replied, barely glancing at Franz before he focused on Wren. "I heard you were back and wanted to give you something. I saw it in the marketplace the other day and thought of you."
Wren held out her hand for Koro to place in her palm a tiny brown bird on a little chain.
"You can hook it to your gun," Koror explained.
"Thank you," Wren smiled, turning the little bird over in her hand. "I'll put it on the Better Devils when I get it back from Banshee."
"I'm glad you like it," he said, chest swelling. "Do you think you might want to get some dinner later?"
"I can't make any promises. We're waiting on word from Zavala but if I'm still around, I don't see why not."
"Okay. If you can come by, I'd really like that."
"I'll do what I can."
Koro smiled broadly. "Maybe I'll see you then. Bye everyone."
"Woah," Franz said as Koro left.
"What?" Wren asked.
"I think Koro likes you," Beorn said.
"Of course he does. We're friends."
"He means that Koro… you know… likes you likes you," Sisre said.
"What? Why would you think that?" Wren asked Beorn.
"He just gave you a random present and then asked you to dinner," Franz said.
"So? I give you guys things all the time and we also eat together more often than not."
The Warlocks and Titan exchanged glances but let the subject go. Wren dropped the bird into her pocket and tried to push the thought aside. Koro had always been nice to her. He was kind by nature, but it seemed she'd fallen into another situation where people got the wrong idea. Maybe it was inescapable. She hoped not.