"The moon's good": They kick off their hakama for wrestling

- Hokushi.

"You're going to die, you know."

Zavala looked up at Shaxx quizzically, wondering how he could say something so ghoulish in such a casual tone of voice. They were on their way to combat training, Zavala's first session. Shaxx was clearly an old hand, or at least he acted like one. Zavala couldn't tell if he was trying to prepare him or if he was winding him up.

"Sorry but it's true, you're going to die today. More than once." Zavala stopped in his tracks and kept staring at him. "You'll get used to it. It's all part of the experience."

"Uh. Thanks for the heads up?" Zavala resumed walking and they carried on towards the sparring grounds on the outskirts of the settlement. "It's fine. I've died before. Plenty of times."

"In quick succession?"

"No can't say it's ever been more than once in twenty-four hours."

"Get ready for more than once in twenty minutes." They came to a halt with the other Risen from the settlement, who were gathered in a circle, waiting for the instructors to make themselves known. Shaxx leaned down and whispered, "People tend to be harsh with the new arrivals. Be prepared for that. You can team up with me if you like."

"Would you go easy on me?"

"No."

Zavala chuckled, then fell silent as an instructor entered the circle, and began to speak, projecting his voice across the field. "All right, pair up. Hand to hand combat today, Light abilities are not only allowed they are encouraged. Show us what you've got. Best of three, get to it!"

Zavala turned to Shaxx and asked, "Best of three?"

"Deaths," Shaxx answered bluntly.

"Ah." Zavala nodded. Shaxx wasn't kidding about how many times he might die today. He took a deep breath and rolled his shoulders, forcing himself to relax. "Okay, so are we-"

"New guy!" Shaxx and Zavala turned to see Iakin glaring in Zavala's direction. "With me."

"He wants a rematch?" Zavala muttered.

While Shaxx shook his head slowly, Zavala suspected he was rolling his eyes behind that helmet. "Kick the little twerp's arse. I'll see you after." He turned to the rest of the assembly and pounded a fist into his open palm. "Okay, who's with me? Come on, step up. Anyone?" The other Risen avoided making eye contact and steadily drifted away from him, as though he had plague. "Oh come on. Come on! Oh, you bunch of wusses." He eventually managed to grab a retreating Risen by the collar. "Come here. Oh it's okay, it'll be over soon."

Zavala trudged toward his opponent, taking note of the state of the ground as he did. The foot traffic in this area had turned most of the snow to a treacherously slippy, brown, slush.

"All right," the instructor called out once the group had been paired off. "Ghosts to a safe distance please."

Izanami shuddered and turned her optic to Zavala for reassurance. "It's fine, Iz." Zavala cupped her shell in the palm of his hand. "It's just to avoid friendly fire, I'll be fine."

"I don't like this," she glanced around nervously.

"Go with the other ghosts. It's just a precaution, I'll see you soon."

"Very soon," said Iakin, a smirk fixed on his face. She spun her shell to face Iakin and contorted her top two spines into a sharp 'v' shape. After she floated away to the edge of the sparring ground, Iakin asked, "Why does your Ghost have separation anxiety?"

"I told you, we've been through a-" He was suddenly interrupted by Iakin's fist smashing into his face. Zavala staggered backward, tasting blood at the back of his throat. He spluttered and gingerly covered his nose with his hand. His nose was broken for sure, that would be Izanami's first job when they were reunited. He suddenly realised Iakin was coming for him again and blocked his punch with his forearm. Iakin kept advancing, swinging left and right while Zavala was forced backwards, still not having recovered from that first sucker-punch. He eventually slipped and fell. He both felt and heard the crack when his head hit a rock, then everything went dark.

Alexandra had brought her bike to a halt at the crest of a hill overlooking a vast expanse of water, with a town nestled beside it. She chugs from a water flask before offering to Zavala who politely declines. He's far too busy staring at the sight before him.

"Is…is that the ocean?" He supposes it must be the ocean, the water extends as far as the eye can see. He's never seen this much water, not since he was revived and then he was eager to get away from the shallow sea he had obviously died in. His heart beats faster as images of darkness and cold panic skirt at the edge of his memories.

"Traveler help you, you really are lost, aren't you?" She shakes her head, "No. We're well inland here. That's Lake Baikal. You'll be staying at the Ranger Station there until we decide what to do with you."

"What to do with me?" He wrenches his gaze away from the lake and frowns at his new-found…What is she to him? His guide? His protector? Or his captor perhaps?

Alexandra shrugs and screws the cap back on her flask. "You were out in the middle of nowhere, no weapons, no equipment. That's unusual to say the least. The others will have questions about how you survived alone like that."

Zavala drops his gaze to the floor, contemplating if he should just tell her the truth; that he didn't survive, that he died over and over. What if his Ghost is being too cautious? This Ranger seems reasonable, terrifying when she has a knife in her hand but reasonable.

The crackle of a radio, then the sound of a woman's voice interrupts the ensuing silence. "Sasha? You coming home tonight? Your dinner's getting cold."

She grins and picks up the radio and replies, "Yes, I'm on my way. Just pop my dinner in the oven for me, I promise I won't be up past my bedtime. Seriously though, just taking a little pit-stop then we'll be down."

"We? Ah, yes, your stray. How long?"

"About half an hour, so don't shoot."

"Oh come on."

"I've seen how bad your aim is, Dolores, your eyesight's terrible. Wouldn't put it past you to mistake us for Dregs."

"Have a care. Age comes not alone, child, it'll happen to you too. See you soon"

She pockets the radio and gets back on the bike. "Come on, let's go." Zavala ambles over and rides pillion behind her.

"Who was that? Another Ranger? How many of you are there?"

Alexandra pulls on her helmet and starts the ignition on the bike. "Not enough," she sighs before setting off.

When they arrive, they're waved through a massive gate set into a protective outer wall. After parking the bike, Alexandra beckons for Zavala to follow her through what pass for streets in this conflagration of humanity. The town is a mixture of crumbling Golden Age buildings, huts, lean-tos and what looked like converted shipping containers piled on top of eachother. Zavala winces at his Awoken senses picking up on the sudden cacophony of minds crammed into this space. The noise gradually quiets as he erects mental defences, more from instinct than anything else, he has no memory of learning how to do this. The occasional pointed, curious thought from someone staring at him in cuts through. The people here are dressed for hardship; tattered furs, cracked leathers and worn boots. Zavala is keenly aware of how out of place his white flight suit looks here.

He looks in the direction of the latest mental enquiry to breach his mental levees and sees that it's Alexandra, staring at him intently. "You all right? You're wincing."

"I'm not used to this many people."

"This an Awoken thing? I heard you people can sense things we can't." Zavala just nods, beginning to accept that he'll most likely end up with a splitting headache before he gets used to this.

"These people can't all be headed for the Traveler?" He asks, looking around in amazement.

"No. You get all sorts here. Pilgrims, merchants, descendants of people who tried to get to the Cosmodrome during the Collapse. The Road is dangerous but it's relatively safe here so some Pilgrims abandon the idea and settle. There's some unsavoury types too, so stay close." They turn a corner and come to a ramshackle mess-hall set up in a large tent. "Get something to eat, I need to go debrief, I'll be back in a few minutes." She points at him as though he's a naughty child liable to run off. "Stay here. I mean it, don't wander." She shepherds him to the back of the queue before telling a man in armour similar to hers to watch him.

The line moves slowly and Zavala shuffles his way along, shoulders hunched and head down.

[I think I preferred it when it was just us.] Izanami complains.

[It'll be fine, this is only temporary.] As he nears the head of the queue, the aroma from a massive pot of stew wafts towards him. He doesn't recognise the smells, he just knows that they make his stomach clench and rumble. [Besides, it might be nice to rest properly. Hot meals. Sleep in a bed.]

[Zavala. Three o'clock.] Izanami says in a nervous, warning tone. [And nine o'clock and six…oh dear.] The others in the queue have stepped back while two men and one woman position themselves around Zavala. Their feet are planted far apart, their arms folded.

Zavala glances between the three of them. "Can I help you?"

"You're the guy Sasha brought in?" Asks the woman.

"You mean Alexandra Ivanova? The Ranger? Yes." Zavala unfolds his arms slowly, letting them drop to his sides. "Word travels fast, apparently."

The three of them begin circling him and take turns firing questions at him, one after the other, "How long were you out there alone? Why don't you have a weapon? How did you survive? Why are you dressed like that? You a pilot? Where's your ship?"

Zavala does his best to keep an eye on each of them. His lips curls into a snarl, his annoyance overriding his sense of caution. "Do actually want me to answer these, or are you just trying to make a point?"

"Fulgrim sent you didn't he? What is he after?"

"I'll tell you what I told Alex- Sasha. Whatever. I don't work for him. I'd never even heard of Fulgrim until today."

"Liar!" One of the men yells. He's stick-thin and wiry so Zavala is completely taken aback by his strength when he lands a punch in Zavala's gut. He gasps and tries to back away, doubled-over.

He wraps one protective arm around his stomach and holds his other hand out, palm-up, in an entreating gesture. "Please don't." With that, the three of them set upon him, punching, kicking, scratching. Zavala collapses to the floor and curls into a fetal position.

[Fight back!] Izanami pleads.

[I can't.]

[Yes you can! You've fought off Vandals hand-to-hand, this is nothing!]

[I might kill them.] Zavala screws his eyes shut, fighting against the brewing anger inside him. He doesn't want his Light to manifest, not now but each blow from his attackers cause that little spark of heat in his chest grow and grow and until his skin begins to prickle and he feels that tell-tale jolt of power in his fingertips. He screws his eyes shut, crosses his arms and balls his fists against his chest. He's just about to yell, to scream a warning to his assailants to get back when a gunshot sounds just a few feet away. Zavala forces his eyes open to see who fired.

"What in the Traveler's name are you doing?" Sasha is standing with a massive pistol aimed skywards, wearing a facial expression that's one part incredulity, three parts murder. She lowers her gun to point it in the direction of Zavala's assailants. "Get back. All of you!" They shuffle backward, hands up. She holsters her gun and scowls in the direction of the armoured man toward the back of the mess. "What the hell, Goran? I told you to watch him."

The man shrugs, leaning nonchalantly against one of the mess' support beams. "I did watch."

"They could have killed him!"

"I wouldn't have let it get that far. You gotta admit, Sasha, it's more than a little suss. You shouldn't have brought him back here, you know he's probably a scout."

"You ever see a spy look as incongruous as him? Not much use as a spy, don't you think?"

"Why take the risk?" One of the men who attacked speaks up. His gaze is still full of venom but he looks decidedly less confident than before. "Just chuck him back over the wall and be done with it."

"He is my responsibility. If any of you touch him again, you can make your way to the Traveler by yourselves. How about we put you outside the wall with a couple days' rations? You fancy traveling alone? During winter? Like the sound of that?

"You can't make that decision, Sasha. You're not in charge," the ranger called Goran protests.

"Dolores can. Want me to call her?" Sasha's suggestion is met with grumbling and shuffling. "That's what I thought. Get out of here, all of you." She glares after them as they retreat and the other pilgrims gradually gather back around to queue for food again, giving Sasha and Zavala a wide berth. She kneels at his side to help him up. "Anything broken?"

"I don't think so," he says, wincing at a sharp pain in his chest as he gets to his feet.

[I beg to differ,"] Izanami interjects across their Link. [Two of your ribs are broken. You'll have some serious contusions too, if you don't let me do something about them.]

"Come on," Sasha takes him by the elbow and steers him away from the mess tent. "Let's get you patched up."

Zavala nods, taking as deep breaths as his aching ribs will allow, not permitting himself to relax until he's sure his Light has abated.

"Listen," Sasha says as they walk side-by-side, "If anyone gets you on the ground like that again, kick at their legs. Strike with your heel, hard, and follow through. If you get the angle right, you might just break their shin or their knee."

Zavala laughs softly and instantly regrets it as a fresh spike of pain lances through him. "Has anyone ever told you you're a little scary?"

She smirks, not looking offended in the slightest. "I'm just practical." She pats his arm. "Stick with me, you'll be fine."

Zavala gasped as his lungs filled with air. He blinked furiously as the world came back into focus and he saw Izanami hovering over him.

[Get out of the way] he told her silently. Iakin was standing with his back to them, laughing uproariously, calling to someone across the field.

"Did you see that? He must have a skull like an eggshell!"

Zavala waited until his Ghost was safely away before silently maneuvering himself around. He drew one leg back and kicked out hard, feeling his heel crash into the side of Iakin's knee. There was a sickening snap and Iakin immediately dropped to the ground with an agonised scream. Zavala sprang to his feet and grabbed the back of Iakin's head, fisted his fingers in his hair, pulled his head back then smashed his knee into his face. He let go of his hair and let him fall backwards, lifeless, like a rag-doll.

"WHOO! Yeah, that'll learn him!" Izanami hollered from the sidelines, spinning her shell in jubilation. She noticed Iakin's ghost staring at her. "What?" The other Ghost dipped the points of its shell in what could almost be a sigh before floating over to revive their Risen.

"All right," Iakin said, getting to his feet after his Ghost brought him back, "All right. I got cocky. I'll give you that one."

Zavala resisted the urge to reply with a sarcastic quip and instead concentrated on finding a strong stance and anticipating Iakin's next gambit. He brought his arms up to a defensive position and kept still, waiting for Iakin to attack. He watched him pace back and forth, trying to goad him into making the first move but Zavala remained impassive, staring him down. Iakin eventually gave in to impatience and charged at him, swinging wildly with his fists. Zavala blocked as best he could until he feels the hairs on his arms rise and his skin erupt in gooseflesh; there's arc energy nearby. He raised a void overshield in response.

Iakin backed off when he realised his blows were to no avail. "That overshield won't last forever, you know. Are you going to land a punch or-"

Zavala took Iakin's jibe as an opportunity to drop the shield and summed the arc aspect of his Light. He rushed him, turning to a bright, crackling blur as he rammed his shoulder into Iakin at full force. He vapourised mid-taunt and Zavala stepped back, allowing himself a small, satisfied smile.

"Best of three, right?" He said, turning to the other sparring couples for confirmation. They had all stopped and were staring at him. A few whispers broke out and Zavala's smile vanished. He looked around uncertainly until he found Shaxx, also staring at him. "What?" He mouthed.

With that, Iakin's Ghost revived him and he immediately started yelling in the instructor's direction. "That doesn't count! This isn't fair, how was I supposed to know he could do that?"

Zavala scurried over to Shaxx. "Do what? What did I do? you said we were meant to die, best of three deaths, that's what you said."

Shaxx cocked his head. "Uh, you switched between void and arc Light as though it was nothing."

"So?" Zavala shrugged, nonplussed. "Was I not supposed to? No one told me I wasn't supposed to do that."

"It's not that you're not supposed to. It's rare. Especially for a youngster." He looked toward Iakin, still protesting the injustice of it all. "He wasn't expecting it."

"Oh." Zavala nodded. "Oh, I see. Am I supposed to pick one or the other?"

"Not for me to say." He jutted his chin toward another Risen walking toward the sparring ground. "Better to ask him." This newcomer was dressed in armour that put most of them to shame. Aside from the ornately inlaid helmet, there was a slightly ramshackle feel to it. The parts didn't all exactly match, there were obvious dents and scuffs, and it was complemented by somewhat ragged-looking cloth accoutrements. The effect was all the more intimidating though, he was a clearly a man who was no stranger to battle.

"Do you think the Fallen care one whit for fairness?" He spoke in a low growl that somehow managed to cut right through Iakin's histrionics. He fell silent, bowing his head in deference. "You think a gang of Vandals will back off if you cry 'fair play?' Do honestly believe a Captain won't use your bones as a boundary marker because you invoke rules of engagement?"

"No, my Lord." Iakin mumbled in response.

"What have you learned?"

Iakin shot a surly glare in Zavala's direction before responding, "Don't underestimate your opponent."

"And?"

"Expect the unexpected?"

"Good." He nodded once before turning away. He stopped in front of Shaxx who nodded respectfully.

"Lord Saladin."

"Shaxx. Vicious as ever." A note of amusement had crept into that gravelly voice.

"Thank you m'lord."

"And I see you've made friend. Good for you." He turned to look at Zavala. "This one might give you a run for your money."

"I hope so," Shaxx said, giving Zavala a playful punch to the shoulder. "I was getting bored."

"I won't be here for the next couple of weeks at least, a matter in Old Russia requires our attention." He glanced at Zavala, then back at Shaxx. "Keep an eye on this one for me. He's got potential."

"Will do. Is…" Shaxx hesitated. "Is Lady Efrideet going with you?"

Saladin snorted and turned to leave the sparring ground. He called back over his shoulder, "I'll give her your regards."

Zavala waited until Saladin was out of earshot before grabbing Shaxx's arm. "Lord Saladin?" He whispered urgently. "As in war Lord?"

"No! No fear." Shaxx assured him. "Iron Lord. They're the ones who put Warlords down."

"Oh," Zavala visibly relaxed. "I don't like Warlords."

Shaxx looked at him askance. "You've had run-ins with Warlords? Zavala you've got stories to tell, why don't you talk more?"

He gave a lopsided shrug and stammered, "I uh, I heard things. Never good things." He took a deep breath and decided to change the subject. "So who's Efrideet?"

"Ah," Shaxx put his hands on his hips and puffed his chest out. "Lady Efrideet." He drew out the second syllable of 'Lady' in a happy sigh. "I like Lady Efrideet." He clapped an arm around Zavala's shoulder and walked him back towards the camp. "Let me tell you about Lady Efrideet…"