Chapter One
"SHE SHALL BREATHE AGAIN"
The evening had set in tempestuous and cold. All warmth from before was extinguished from existence as darkness conquered light. Nearby Devil's retreated to seek shelter wherever they could find some, those loathsome Red Legion mercenaries chased them out of local City regions, all the way back to the European Dead Zone, but few scavengers still remain. The hive are no where to be seen either. I personally had half a mind to spend the evenfall perching myself upon a nearby ridge, observing as the fall of the Last City transpires miles before me rather than seeking refuge as well. My own eyes would witness as flames engulfed civilian homes and as their screams plagued the night that even I could perceive at such a lengthened distance. The only color visible was that of red and in response, I would do nothing.
I would sit. Watch. What was there for me to do? I am in exile. No longer a Guardian.
The bird had mourned when the attack first commenced, but that would only evolve into anger and a desire for vengeance, but there was nothing now. No more light. The exotic was forced to go mute and my body to weaken but I refused to falter. My typically heated frame had suddenly changed into a frigid winter and I shivered underneath my shredded clothing that not even your basic soldier would proclaim as armor. The hawk and stars above had gone silent and my mind was set free. Not even I could tell if I was relieved by the silenced whispers or traumatized.
So, my hands would extend, reach up, and, for the first time, remove the dead helmet from my head, turning the front towards my vision and witnessed as it crumbled within my hands until only the face of the bird remained. The Celestial existed off the Traveler's light, and now that said light was purloined from its grasp, the flesh of the exotic decomposed and only the mask skeleton remained.
For the first time in years, I felt the wind caress my albino, awoken flesh, and gallop through my, equally as white, medium length locks. Crystal blue eyes fluttered as my vision was genuine with no other mind controlling it.
For once, I was free; serene and pacified.
But my mind was still in mourning. Not for the city, but for the helmet and for my ghost, whose shell, of which had little light to begin with, laid dead beside my figure.
I was free, but I was officially alone. Such a combination resulted in nothing but low spirits and an astray conscience that led to imminent demise.
One can only imagine how many lives were lost today, lives that are currently being lost, and my mind unintentionally wandered to one specific life that had more than a significant place in my heart. I thought myself a fiend to paint a picture of his face in a time like this. After losing the bird and my best companion, my mind resorted to him and I was disgusted, but concern was evident. I wondered if he was alive, which in a situation like this seems unlikely, for he would never leave the city, not even now, not without being forced out. He would give his life for that wretched city.
He is the Great Commander Zavala. Fearless and persistent. And I hate him.
I've hated him since the day I first met him. A fool I was, before the rampage began, before the Celestial Nighthawk, a fool for loving the man I hated most.
FLASHBACK
Three weeks after the Battle of Twilight Gap
"THE LAST CITY RECOVERS"
"I haven't seen the people of the Last City so distraught since Six Front's. We won this battle, we should be celebrating, not hesitating." My body leaned against the railing of the Tower Watch, watching as the primary walls were being repaired in the distance, housing for civilians is being added, and the Tower itself was being build up more so than it already is. Ghost stood by, listening and watching with me.
The atmosphere felt so forsaken, a majority of our guardians were lost to this battle and the ones that survived either are resting and recovering within their assigned Tower chamber, or are out patrolling to soothe their scandalized minds. Every Guardian has their own coping mechanisms. It is a very difficult time in the City right now. And so I sit, and anxious wait for new arrivals that the Traveler will awake. It must awake new Guardians. Now more than ever.
"They are distraught because this was the closest the Fallen have ever been to actually breaching and putting an end to the City. Ever since the walls were built. They fear what happens next."
Perceiving the sound of a spawn in, I abruptly turn around to see a new Exo Guardian, looking left to right, trying his hardest to take his surroundings in as his Ghost rambles, explaining the Tower, it's history, and over all his purpose as a Guardian. Eventually his mechanical light blue eyes landed on me, the only other Guardian around currently, and so I smiled and sent a nod in his direction where he replied with a nod as well in acknowledgement.
"Guardian, the Speaker requests your attendance. No elucidation given."
"Attendance to what?" I question, pushing my frame off the bars and began to walk towards the North Tower, of which was still under construction, leaving the new recruit to fend for himself in a nearly abandoned tower.
"This is the first time I'll be seeing the Speaker since his speech after the battle. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't anxious." Running a hand through my hair in attempt to make myself more presentable, I took a final left only to spot three figures standing together, conversing.
The Speaker opened his arms in greetings upon seeing me. "It is gratifying to see you active after such long days, Guardian. How have you been?" It's not often the warlock asks questions on a personal level. Typically, when he asks for your presence, he states his business and desire for meeting with you and moves on, no questions asked. So to see him in such a "good mood" broke my guard.
"I am well. I have been resting since the battle's conclusion, but intend to take up more bounties and patrols soon due to the current lack of... reinforcements." The atmosphere dropped when I stated that. A lot of lives were lost. More than even the Speaker would of imagined.
"I am pleased to hear you're in good health." I blinked in response, awaiting to acknowledge his reason for calling me. He saw this, so he went straight to the point after a brief pause. "You do know Lord Saladin, yes?" He gestured towards the very large, dark-skinned human Titan standing beside him, who I failed to scrutinize before.
"Of course," I looked at him up and down, "It is always an honor to be in the great Iron Lord Saladin Forge's presence," but I was more disappointed than honored, remembering the events at Twilight Gap.
"Yes," he stated in response after studying me as well, "you are the hunter who followed up Shaxx in his treasonous act against vanguard order of retreat in Twilight Gap." There was an obvious vibe of distrust between the two of us.
"Treason is a strong word, Saladin. That act won us the battle, whereas your word would of gotten everyone killed. Perhaps you have the two mixed up?"
"—I have decided to make Lord Saladin temporary Titan Vanguard and Vanguard Commander since Saint-14 has... unfortunately... disappeared," the Speaker cut in. My eyes darted over to him. "With you being among our most honorable Guardians, I thought you should be one of the first to know before a proper Tower announcement takes place."
With a heavy blink, I turned back to Saladin, "My apologies. You will make an excellent... temporary... Commander." With all the tension that has been getting swapped within the past few minutes, I have failed to recognize the third being standing within our circle, "Who is this?" I stated aloud, eyes turning to also scrutinize an almost-equally as tall and large Titan male, but this one was an awoken like myself. I was intrigued, for its not often I come across another awoken Guardian. His flesh glowed a luminous blue with eyes that closely matched to those of my own, and lacked any sign of hair.
"I am Zavala." So simple. And stern.
"Ah, the "other apprentice", so I hear from Shaxx. A veteran of Six Fronts and now Twilight Gap. How is it I am just now seeing your face at the Tower?" I was almost disappointed to be in front of these two, who are both typically seen as brave, and principled men; Granted, their intentions were genuine, they were trying to save lives, but if the city didn't push forward, humanity as we know it would be extinguished by the Fallen.
"How is it I am just now seeing yours?" He retorted. I frowned. I keep forgetting about my tendencies of remaining lone and separate. I suppose I just haven't learned the "social" and "necessity of having a Fireteam" part of being a hunter, as Brask states.
Snickering to lighten the mood, I made further conversation, "Shaxx is fond of you. Of you both."
"So you are quite acquainted with Shaxx? Astonishing, he has never appeared to be the "friendly" type."
"Oh, you're not wrong," I agreed immediately, "It is more of a tolerated companionship."
Shaxx was the first to greet me upon my arrival and recognition of the Speaker and his plan to construct a grand Last City with walls. A safe place for life on lights side. He was the first to show me kindness after I became a Guardian. Of course, his personality has changed since then, but throughout the years we remained friends, if you would call it that. Even now, he rants to me about bold plans of something he refers to as The Crucible, a competitive Guardian vs Guardian tournament where soldiers can safety practice and hone ones skills to prepare for upcoming missions and battles like Twilight Gap. A place to "earn oneself glory," as he puts it. Saladin despises the idea, feeling that if there were to be a Guardian vs Guardian activity, it's purpose should to be to teach teamwork rather than overall skill, therefore he is in process of creating an Iron Banner. Zavala, who of which is constantly by his masters side, acts like a puppy in submission and agrees with every decision the Iron Lord makes, that or he genuinely does have bad ideas as well. Twilight Gap proved such.
"Shaxx plays a dangerous game. I'd watch yourself with him if I were you," Zavala tried to advise.
"His ideas saved the city. The fact that you feel the need to shame him is despicable of you as it is!"
"Guardian," the Speaker finally interrupted, noticing my growing aggravation. What can I say? Hunters have always been easy to annoy.
I shifted my concentration to the warlock and apologized, out of respect, as did Zavala seconds later.
Saladin eventually added, "No matter the method, our victory has been made. It is a time not only for celebration, but also to mourn our fallen soldiers."
"That is also why I have requested you here, Guardian," recommenced the Speaker, "I request your aid in organizing a remembrance proceeding to honor our lost Guardians."
"Of course," furrowing my eyebrows in utter sympathy, I agreed to the assignment without hesitation. "I'll ask a clan member to help me with hereafter patrols that I've taken on for the next few days."
"Excellent," he nodded. No one has ever seen the Speaker's face. It's moments like this, moments of mass mourning, that I desire to see such a precious thing. Sometimes one's facial features and expressions mean the most. "Zavala volunteered to assist you."
I was content with my undertaking, until the warlock said that. So, of course, I immediately protested, "Speaker, shouldn't we have all available Guardians on standby to aid in recovering the Last City and completing missions and bounties? I assure you assistance is not necessary for this."
"I am not a fieldwork combatant when it is not required," Zavala informed, "I work with the Vanguard. It is my job to build up and defend the City within it's walls. Therefore when I heard the Speaker mention he was going to ask a certain Guardian of such a task, I volunteered. What better way to recover the city than to bring together it's civilians and Guardians to properly mourn our fallen warriors?"
He speaks so wisely. I bet his tears taste like poetry.
"Whatever you say, Commander Zavala," I mocked his determination upon giving him that title. Now is not a good time to be ridiculing. Especially within the presence of the Speaker and the actual (temporary) Commander. Immaturity happened to be another common Hunter characteristic. Bite me.
Everyone stared at me then without verbal response, so I immediately killed my childish smile, looked down and again apologized.
Ignoring what just happened, the Speaker continued to give details, "The proceeding shall take place within a week, I thank you both for doing this for our lost."
Upon acknowledging both mine and Zavala's nods, the warlock and Iron Lord departed further into the North Tower, leaving only me and the younger man.
"I guess i'll be seeing you around a lot more now, Greenhorn," I stated, pulling my cloak hood over my head, preparing to also leave.
"Greenhorn?" He laughed.
"You are an apprentice, yes?"
"Just because I possess the title of 'Student", does not mean I am unpracticed and ignorant, unlike others."
I dramatically snickered upon understanding his indirect insult. He knows how to comeback. "Me?" I laughed again. "Keep it up, Greenhorn, and we'll see who the "unpracticed" one truly is." That almost sounded like a threat. It was dumb, probably, threatening a practical Iron Lord. Even so, I proceeded with evident pride. Patting him on his chest armor, I turned to take my leave, but he stopped me momentarily with inquiry.
"Wait! I never got your name."
I stopped in my tracks and slowly turned with a mischievous smile upon recognizing his curiosity. "People call me Ren," I stated after a moments wait, then turning again to continue leaving. "I'll see you around. This is going to be fun."
It was a time of great sorrows. A time when you never went a moment without looking over your shoulder and hesitating another Darkness attempt on destroying what we had built.
It was a time of freedom. When I was blessed with solar power from the Traveler, and could painlessly wield my golden with passion, pride, and indisputable trust. When the bird slept.
And as I sit here and watch all pasts flare before my eyes, I perceive a growing rage, for the first time since I left the walls, not only for those who have done me wrong, but for all existence. Everything that stood in my path was an obstacle and needed to be cleared and put to rest.
The Nighthawk is dead but it lives.
In the dew.
In the stars.
In the colors of the sky.
And it will breathe again.
It will. It must.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Chapter One finally out. I've been anticipating and procrastinating this one for a few days now, but I think I wrote it to it's fullest potential. The first few chapters will be ultimately about Ren before she became the Celestial Nighthawk, so it might move slowly and will seemingly be incompatible to the title and the primary point of this story, but it will eventually tie in and prove its significance. Therefore, those who stay are in for quite a roller coaster ride!
For clarification, all flashbacks will be marked with a border and typically a title of some sort within chapter, and a return to present will be marked with another border, but I'll try my best to label all transitions. To make your alls reading experience better.
Nonetheless.
I hope you guys enjoyed!
Stay tuned for Chapter Two.