Chapter Three
"THE LAST DANCE"
I would tell myself every hour of every day for the first few months of my exile that I would find a way to come back home. I was angry, that was conspicuous, but as soon as everyone you know and love gives up on you and as soon as you are alone for so long, that shit gets to you. No Hunter in this galaxy is capable of dealing with such intense vehemence. No amount of void in a Nightstalker's divesting essential being can make an analogy with the feeling of absolute, intolerable forsakenness. Wielding the void element as a hunter is almost as physically and mentally disastrous as that of a Celestial Nighthawk Gunslinger. Almost. I would persistently receive the story by Andal Brask himself, Nightstalker and past Hunter Vanguard. My teacher. My best friend.
I would go to him in my beginning stages of officially accepting the Nighthawk exotic for comfort and advice. My personality was in the process of being completely altered and my body was getting used to the increased light. I was wild. Brask managed to calm me by telling me his own stories. Opened up to me, to condolence me, not as an authority figure, but as a friend. Told me how he lacked slumber and was beginning to lose feeling in various parts of his body due to the mass amounts of void in his frame. He told me the only thing he felt anymore was nothing but pure numbness.
"It is why there are not a lot of Nightstalker's in the field," he had stated, "To become an Orion of the void, you have to be chosen by the element itself, much like how the Nighthawk chose you. We have lost a lot of Hunter Guardians who have tried to wield the void but were not strong enough to take on the burden and corresponding power."
I do not know how our little talks would aid in making me feel better about my situation. It was not because I was witnessing another Guardian in pain, but more the fact that I knew wasn't alone in this. Brask was the only one who was there for me during my transition, besides...
Just thinking of his name brought my current situation back to reality.
No matter how much I initially desired to come back here, I couldn't believe the concrete I was walking on as I sneaked through the different buildings of the city, occasionally turning around to view the tower I was previously sight seeing on. A nearby scream convinced me to descend back into the city. If the Celestial were to be alive, it would persuade me in leaving the walls and the City, going back to the same ledge I once sat on as I witnessed the fall. But, since I was now acting on my own will, I refused to leave any acknowledged civilian in danger to die in the grasps of the Red Legion. I might be a "traitor", but I'm no monster. Not anymore at least. Not now.
My pace was brisk yet inaudible, my dark cloak and clothing blended in with the shadows and ash, following the trails of the cries of help, pulling powerless and innocent civilians out from under debris, assuring those who were hidden to come with me. "I'll get you out of here," I said to them all, "Follow my Ghost." I received countless embraces, praises and statements of gratitude. It brought me back to Six Fronts, how I was rushing through the camps to get civilians out and to safety, viewing as their faces were covered in grime and tears, expressions horrified. How hands would reach out for mine.
I watched people die before due to my inability to save them. Such a sight and experience is something that never leaves your memory. I had to abandon people before because, due to their situation, they were impossible to rescue and I was compelled to move on to find others that I could save. I remember walking away from those I had to leave behind, hearing as they screamed my title at the top of their lungs, begging for help that I could not provide for them. It is one of the hardest things I had to do as a Guardian. Such a thing eats away at you. It still does to me. Especially now as I roam the streets, avoiding Cabal sights, in search of remaining humanity.
And I would come across something startling during my mission. A woman whose lower body was crushed by a building but her upper body was free and alive and she was holding a baby. An innocent child who wept no matter the painful embrace it was receiving from it's dying mother. My perception followed the noise and as I approached the woman, she didn't ask for help, she didn't scream. She just gazed up at me with a pained smile with pleading eyes, holding her child up of which was wrapped in a dirtied blanket for me to take. No words spoken. But I knew exactly what she wanted me to do.
In that moment, I ignored the fact that I was still technically exiled.
In that moment, I was a Guardian.
So, my hands would reach down to grasp hold of the whimpering child, watching as the mother silently cried, eventually laying her head on the ground. She passed away right before my eyes. As soon as she knew her child was safe.
I never held a baby before, so to do so now in this environment was staggering. The maternal woman side of me took over then, the side that always wanted a family, bringing the child to my chest as I proceeded onward to officially flee the city upon recognizing the sun beginning to come up. As my pace quickened and my body began to bounce in response to my expeditious movement, the child perceived and began to weep. To muffle it's cries, I softly brought it's head to the crook of my neck. Surprisingly, I caught sight of the exit, and made my way through. Exiting through a breach in the wall, I rallied with my Ghost, who gathered all the civilians I managed to pull out. What I witnessed was beautiful.
I saw relieved grins, people embracing each other. I saw tears then, but not tears of despondency, but tears of joy, of hope, of aspiration. And as soon as they caught sight of me, they all stood, reaching out to me, and touching me as I walked through the group of probably about two dozen people. They looked up at me like I was hero, a real Guardian. My cloak continuing to cast a shadow upon my features to conceal my identity, I held the child close to my frame.
"Listen up!" All chatter halted immediately, eyes pasted upon me as I walked up a brief hill to gain high ground. They all gazed at me then, eyes pleading with a desire of knowing what comes next. I paused, hesitating.
I'd be lying if I said I wasn't traumatized and scared. And what Ghost says next for only my ears to hear didn't help either, "There was an emergency broadcast hours ago, rendezvous coordinates, a planet evacuation. We're on our own now." After that, I looked back at the group of civilians who stared at me with such hope. And there was no where we could go.
"I know this is all very terrorizing for you all," and so, I just spoke, saying anything I could to assure these people I would get them to safety. I was nervous. Not only because of the situation, but because it has been years since I have last communicated with another person. It was so strange. But I had to be brave. For myself, for them, and for this innocent child in my arms. "But I came back. For all of you. And I assure you, I will do anything in my power to get you to safety." I looked up then, finally making the move to lower my hood from my head. I knew that none of them could possibly know who I was, but I also knew revealing myself would aid in gaining their trust. And trust is the most important bond in the universe.
Some appeared shocked at my appearance, as some always are. "The light may be gone, and the Traveler may be silenced for now," I proceeded. "But that determination and that resistance remains. In all of us." The Earth shook briefly due to a nearby by explosion, bringing us all back into reality. "We are not safe here," I announced, descending from the boulder and raising my hand to signal everyone to follow, "Let's move out!"
I watched as everyone grabbed hands, and embraced each other as they walked forward and away from the city, following me. Helping each other walk and whispering silent assurances in each others ears.
This is what it means to be a Guardian. Saving lives. Bringing people together. Caring. Loving. Bonding and forming relationships.
Not traveling across the galaxy battling forces of the darkness when we have no business being there in the first place. Not putting a bullet through the skull of every being we see that isn't humanity.
If that's the case, how are we any better than the enemy?
What I witnessed today was family. True love, for a city, and a people, even if not related by blood. And I learned something.
The Last City is not a place. It's not bricks and metal. It's not an overseeing Tower compacted with soldiers. No. Not at all.
The Last City, it's a people. It's the beings you love. It doesn't matter where you're at, as long as you have them, you're home.
Words can not express how good that makes me feel, for I'm home.
FLASHBACK
17 hours until the Twilight Gap Remembrance Proceeding
"THE LAST CITY REMEMBERS"
I am not a resurrected Guardian. I had a mother, a father, and probably some siblings I wasn't able to grow up with. A human family. One can only imagine being born awoken, especially an abnormal one, it was thought to be impossible. "Awoken are converted, not born." But it happened. And I am here.
I was one of the rare ones. A child of darkness and light. Skin and hair as porcelain as snow, faded pink lips, eyes as blue as sapphire. Different. And people don't like different, even after the Collapse when you need all the humanity you can get. A rare one, but so rare that I became unwanted.
Though, I do not remember the day I was born, it does not help that the first memory I have is waking up to an empty house and overall evacuated village, abandoned, leaving me to fend for myself at a young age, traveling from village to village, leaving quickly due to the Fallen raiding our camps. I never experienced a hint of passion or acceptance, until I found Ghost, or, until he found me.
"The Traveler created Ghosts to seek out and resurrect Guardians to fight against the darkness," he said to me upon our meeting, "Never had I heard of an alive Guardian being chosen. I suppose you specifically were made and selected by the Traveler." Such a thing made more sense than anything that has ever occurred to me, convincing myself that I was a child of the Traveler, not of the humans that betrayed me. So, I proceeded, with Ghost by my side, adapting my body to become a Hunter, accepting the Solar element and becoming a Gunslinger, a rather skilled one at that.
Never had I thought this is where I'd be.
My eyes unlocked, and there stood an abandoned Tower Watch. Such solitary was a feeling I was beginning to grow used to. If one wanted to break their ice and converse with others, it was the Tower you wanted to go to, a social space. Guardians spotted everywhere, dancing, singing, goofing off behind the Vanguard's back. Everywhere you looked, there was a new friendly face. But now, empty.
Nothing was the same. Not after Twilight.
After a long week of constantly dealing with a certain forthcoming "Greenhorn," our work on the proceeding actually paid off.
"The ceremony is tomorrow." Speak of the Devil. My head shifted to the left, viewing as Lord Zavala approaches, coming from Tower North, as the rest of my body leaned against the railing, back turned to the city. "You seem apprehensive." I blinked at him, and returned my gaze back forward without response.
Banners hung, flowers of all shapes, sizes, and colors aligned the Watch, lights attached to all the railings, petals painting the concrete. The Tower was lit up like a Christmas tree. It was beautiful, truly, but saddening all the same.
I pushed myself off the railing and walked forward, and away from Zavala, all the way up to the entrance of the Traveler's Walk. The Iron Lord followed, despite my obvious lack of wanting company, particularly his company.
It wasn't anything personal. I was born to be a lone wolf, that fact was made clear very quickly when I was nothing but a mere child. Zavala is cordial and has an acute desire to interact and socialize with everyone he comes into contact with.
That wasn't a bad thing.
In fact, I envied his passion to know and speak, such characteristics are building blocks to becoming a grand leader, and it was obvious that Zavala is an impending administrator of the city. Such a thing is intimidating, yes, but his relentless hanging around was beginning to get on my nerves, the nerves that desired solitary at least. I was a different kind of fish that exists in this tank we call humanity, and Zavala was an Angel that doesn't understand the phrase "personal space".
I knew there would be no way to shake the man off unless I held the conversation he desired to have, so I complied and went along with him, slowing my pace between the gardens to allow him to approach my side. At such a high elevation and a lack of local vegetation, thus, life, the night was unbearably quiet, only the wind to serenade us as I convinced myself to uphold the conversation.
"The Speaker asked me to give a speech tomorrow during the ceremony," I admitted with a slightly hesitant voice. I avoided eye contact as Zavala looked over to me.
"Will you?"
I stopped at the end of the pathway, turned towards him and crossed my arms, but held my gaze on the decorations of the Tower, studying the bright lights that cast intimate shadows upon the two of us. "I don't think so."
There was a brief pause before the Iron Lord responded. "I just returned from convening with the Speaker myself," he said, "He asks the same from me." I was not surprised when he said that. Like I said, he is a natural leader, who would be more suitable to give a speech on such an occasion? "I think you should reconsider—"
"What am I supposed to say to everyone, Zavala?" My eyes finally met his, revealing the fear I truly felt in that moment. I freaked out, snapped. Silly me. "The people, our Guardians — they want authenticity, not bullshit. They want the truth, and you know what that truth is?"
Zavala went silent, not expecting my sudden outburst and release of anxiety. His eyes bore into my own, holding my gaze to the highest degree, and all I was able to perceive out of them was pure solicitude.
"The truth is that no Guardian should have died that day." I could feel a wetness begin to grow in my eyes. A wetness that expressed pure emotion, a pure lack of guard, pure weakness. I was weak. In that moment, I was weak. "No lives should have been sacrificed." And yet I proceeded on, as if to acknowledge something I didn't, something I couldn't. "No one should have died in a battle that never should have happened in the first place."
He suddenly cut in, "Twilight Gap was not our fault or intention—"
"Wasn't it?" I could perceive as my voice began to crack and falter. I scoffed at myself. It was embarrassing to express such weakness in front of him, in front of anyone in general, but a part of me was rather comfortable with acting like this in front of Zavala. The Traveler knows that I would be seen like this with anyone else. I would have sucked it up. What's so special about him?
"You know, I can't sleep anymore. I never truly slept well before, but now, I can't even shut my eyes without that entire day being set on replay." I remember every detail of Twilight Gap. I remember the fallen, their reinforced armor and the red of their banners. That's right, the Red. I've never seen so much red in my life. Red armor, red blood painting the ground like it's a canvas, over all warriors, over me. "No matter how many times I bathe, I still feel their blood on me, on my hands and face!" The blood of other guardians as I tried to save their lives, as I tried to revive and give them some of my light but it was just too late. Too late for hundreds of us. Too many. My voice began to rise slightly in anger and sorrow. In grief. "We are sent out into the galaxy with a single purpose, to fight back darkness. We wave our weapons and light around in the air like we own it, killing enemies one by one without a single care and think to ourselves that what we are doing is the right thing. What we don't think about is how our actions towards them will not be ignored; we don't think about how they can and will respond to our comportment." I was upset. And I was enraged. But I was not demented. I was not crazy.
"What are you saying?" Zavala soon inquires with a concerned look on his awoken features.
I gulped, licking my lips in anxiety.
"I'm saying..." my voice again lowered, nothing but regret being shown on my features. "... We established the Battle of Twilight Gap. And all those lives lost... their blood is on our hands. My hands." I paused, while the Iron Lord looked absolutely dumbfounded at the words I was speaking. I pointed at him next, "... And yours."
After that, I gazed in those shimmering blue eyes of his that closely matched mine. For just a moment, soon making the move to step back and turn my heels with the intention to depart, but my wrist was suddenly grabbed, making me spin around to face him.
"Ren—"
But I didn't allow him to speak. With all my might, I tried to produce a glare, but my woe got the best of me, making it physically impossible to make such a face. My features only revealed sadness. Swiftly, I yanked my arm away, immediately retreating out of the Travelers Walk and to my personal Tower chambers, leaving Zavala alone and dazed.
I didn't see him again until the next day. I remember disrobing and laying in bed, but never once did I close my eyes. Many guardians just cry themselves to sleep, but I just cry, coating my pale cheeks in a dishonorable liquid. Nothing would ever be the same. And forever would I be weak.
For so long, solitary was there for me when I needed comfort, but in times like this, it was that same solitary that made me feel worse.
Lately, I've felt the best when I was in the presence of other humanity, when I was with Zavala planning for this event. It was a genuine distraction to the lamentations and vexations that remained to conquer my judgment, but as soon as departure is made, I'm back in this pit of anguish.
Last night, I left things strained between us, so we avoided each other until the initiation of the ceremony. Or at least, I avoided him.
Before I knew it, I was standing in front of my body mirror, glaring at myself, heart beating a mile with each minute that passed by. The proceeding I have worked so hard to organize was taking place in 30 minutes. My eyes met my own before further scrutinizing. My white hair was left down and light makeup outlined my eyes. I was in a black, skin tight dress that lacked fabric on the arms, exposed my entire back, and had a slit on the left leg, length falling to the floor. The ceremony was made with a theme of formality, which was definitely a different style, for you never see a Guardian out of their gear. It was more of a civilian thing, wearing these tedious, fancy, wardrobes. I felt exposed, naked, and I was judging myself. I've never been one with an exceedingly low-self esteem, worrying about my looks or anything, those things weren't important, but I also can't say I adore who I am. I have done some things. Terrible things I am not proud of.
But as I stand here in this dress, I can't help but feel tears form in my eyes. And honestly, I can not identify the reasoning. Maybe it was because of the atmosphere. Or maybe, it was is because I'm about to attend a funeral. It wasn't that, really. It is both a celebration and a mourning, but all my mind is focused on is the death, of the blood I can still see painted on my scrubbed-clean bare hands and arms.
I hated looking at myself.
All I saw was red in the areas of exposed skin, and there was a lot of it, red that didn't belong to me. It made me want to rip this dress off, shredding it, ignoring the amount of glimmer I spent on it, and cover myself in clothing from head to toe. It made me want to leave the tower, to return to my typical lonely, and patrol vanguard territory across the universe.
Maybe I was crazy. Who knew.
I can't tell you how long I stood there. I remained until my ghost approached from thin air, giving me a five-minute warning. With that, I abruptly made the decision to grab my hunter cloak, buttoning it around my neck and ascending the hood. It was a faded black hue with multiple tears. For so long, Brask has been on me about considering to get a new one or at least repair it, but that cloak tells a story. It tells my story, and my story is all I have. I'll wear that cloak until I die.
Quite frankly, I looked dumb, wearing an exquisite dress with a worn cloak, but the security of it made me feel, well, secure.
Slipping on my flats, I made my exit.
And I was late, for when I exited the Guardian chambers and descended down the stairs to the Watch, I viewed and listened as the Speaker gave his speech. He and the vanguards, including Zavala remained in their armor due to their positions, while everyone else dressed nicely, some holding glasses in their hands. It was still odd seeing everyone out of uniform, but reasonable for such an occasion. The few soldiers who just returned to the Tower remained in their gear. An orchestra sat above the stairs that led to the Vanguard Hall and below the line of leaders, Speaker in the middle.
"—Tonight, we celebrate a victory, but also mourn the lives we lost in this battle. For if it wasn't for them, the Last City would have taken it's last breath and fell victim to the darkness. Our enemy is persistent and the cost of defending the Traveler and Humanity is high, but us, as a people, and as a family, have something far more valuable than persistence... We have honor, and we have each other...—"
His speech faded in the back of my mind, unable to hear his further words. All eyes were glued to him, but the one person I could only gaze at was Zavala, remembering the events of last night, how unguarded I was, and how astonished I left him. It wasn't long until I was full out staring, scrutinizing him.
I have spent a lot of time with Zavala over the last week. It wasn't long, but felt like an eternity, for every waking moment I was with him.
I absolutely hated it. Never did I get alone-time.
But I'd be lying if I said it didn't help me, how his voice would naturally make my tense frame relax, and until I was left alone with my thoughts at night, never did the memories of Twilight Gap make me falter when I was with him.
In those moments, I was okay.
My eyes found his body, how he stood with pride, shoulders back, spine straight, hands clasped behind him. My vision ascended to the dark blue tattoo on his neck. I couldn't tell what it was, for half of it was cut off. From there, his skin. How it beautifully glowed in a luminescent blue-grey, watching as the light swirled in his cheeks and hairless head, making him gleam. His lips, how soft they appeared, stern, and merely a shade darker than that of his flesh. And when my vision rose to analyze those truly prepossessing, corresponding eyes of his, I found that they were staring right back at me. In shock, my eyes unintentionally widened upon being caught in the act, but didn't shy away, not immediately. No. I stared back, or he did at least, since I was first. His eyebrows furrowed, orbitals having the most wholesome look to them as I feasted on his beauty.
I was mesmerized.
I was charmed by him.
His appearance and annoyingly compassionate personality combined.
I felt my heart beat quicken and my eyes finally retreated.
Was I nervous? Or embarrassed?
It was then that the Speaker finally concluded. Claps resonated throughout the air as Zavala was gestured to the middle to give his speech, but I didn't stick around to hear it. I found my legs moving. Relentlessly, expeditiously, falling back to hide in the hanger. I could feel his eyes on me as my arms hugged my sides. Disappearing into the dark corridor. For some reason, I felt myself growing emotion, but a large groan from sweeper-bot as I strolled last him somehow brought reality back to me and I returned to my expressionless facade. My pace didn't falter, for I quickly approached an NPC. Amanda was at the ceremony, so I had to deal with what I had.
"Requesting withdrawal," I stated bluntly. I watched as the NPC raised his head to me.
"Request denied."
"What!" My voice rose. "Why?"
"Vanguard ordered all ships remain docked during ceremony, guardian." It's lack of emotion aggravated me.
"Bring my ship forth immediately, class Valkyrie-O5X, or I'll make sure you remain docked for the rest of your pathetic life," I didn't hesitate to threaten, poorly choosing my words to such an ally, and making the robot cower. It was a relieving that these things were built with some intelligence.
"My apologies, Guardian, request confirmed." With that, the NPC bot slowly ambled to take hold of its tablet, while I moved to lean against the railing, awaiting for my ship to arrive.
I could hear Zavala in the background, the echo of his voice, but the words were muffled.
I made a promise to remain for the ceremony, see it out and participate and socialize, but as soon as fresh air hit my flesh and I viewed the scene, I couldn't help but feel a growing suffocation form. It was a suffocation that begged me to leave and seek solitude. I would die if I remained in such a crowd. All that getting ready before hand was useless, since I only ended up here, not even participating in the feast or dance that I planned.
After many minutes, the speaking came to a stop, his voice disappearing from my perception, and the sound of music entering, originating from the recreation orchestra hired for this event. Soothing, classical music that couldn't even calm my mind.
Upon hearing and seeing the arrival of my ship, I leapt off the balcony and approached. My ghost suddenly appeared in front of me.
"Are you not going to say goodbye?"
"To whom that cares?" I quickly retorted, scoffing and almost glaring at him.
"The Speaker? Vanguard Brask? You haven't spoken to him in a few days, his ghost contacted me. He is worried about you... About how you are doing..."
"I am fine!" The statement came off harsher than intended. It wasn't truly believable either. Looking down, I saw that my hands were transitioned to greatly clenched fists. With an exhale, I released them, but they proceeded to shake rapidly with anxiety. "Why does everyone keep asking that?"
"You are not alone in this, Ren. Every guardian at that ceremony is mourning and struggling with the memories of that battle."
His statement hushed me, head remaining downward. My eyes closed in attempt to relax my trembling frame, but such an action proved to be pointless. Perceiving a sudden heatwave from my solar light that radiated through me, my hands rose to unclasp my cloak and remove it from my back, exposing it and the rest of my skin to the wind so I could try to cool off. My energy rose, therefore did my light. The need to release those three bullets penetrated my conscience and become stronger with every second. I never responded. Ghost refused to hush, though.
"What about Lord Zavala?"
With that, my eyes and head rose to meet that of my ghost. His blue little light blinked, before looking behind me, appearing to have spotted something, but I paid no attention to this, not until a voice that did not belong to ghost met my hearing.
"Leaving so soon? This ceremony is our astounding doing and you're not even going to dance?"
My eyes closed, body somehow relaxing to his voice. And so, I turned to face him with courage in my eyes, only to meet the genuinity of his own. I softened briefly before returning solumn. "Dancing is for children," I said without emotion to back it up, "We are soldiers at war, not juveniles in play."
And even with my response that expressed my annoyance at his approach, he proceeded to ignore the hint, as he always does, and held out a hand for me to take. The music resonating from the Watch was not bold, but it was present, making such a proposition reasonable, but it remained unappealing to me. Yet, I paused. I hesitated.
I didn't take it, only verbally responding. "I told you I'd give it a few days. Those days have passed and the ceremony is over—"
He cut me off with a smile on his face, "—It is not over until the fireworks are hushed and the last dance goes silent—"
"Will you stop doing that?"
He merely laughed, "Stop doing what, precisely?"
"Stop—... Stop smiling like that and speaking so—... so wisely to everyone you come into contact with. It's—It's exasperating!" I felt so much anger scuttling through me, my fists clenching again, but the fact that I stammered made me become more embarrassed. I could feel my cheeks burn a deep purple. I felt so out-of-character.
I left him in such a negative manner last night, yet he approaches and speaks to me with so much benevolence, as if I never insulted him, or us as guardians.
Even following my embarrassing request, his arm remained out for the taking, smile never fading from his lips.
We shared a silence. My eyes glaring daggers at his hand, his gazing subtly at my face.
"Ren."
But his voice did eventually cut that said silence off. His persistence was quite aggravating. Yet, with him stating my name so softly, my shoulders fell and so did my clasped digits. My eyebrows furrowed as my true sorrow finally showed.
"Look at me."
And I did, eyes weakly meeting his. His smile had fallen with the silence, but his eyes held hope and promise.
"Dance with me."
Momentarily, I just stared into his beautiful, glowing blue eyes that perfectly matched my own, taking it in now since I could not earlier. The color of the sky on a cloudless summer day. I saw an ocean I desperately desired to swim in, curtained between thick layers of lashes. Skin meant for touching.
Never did I see Zavala like this until now. Never was I so charmed. Not until I realized how comfortable he made me, not until I saw him previously shadowed in the intimate lights of the ceremony. Not until it came to me that I had completely forgotten about Twilight Gap when he made his approach.
In that moment, I was okay. And okay was enough.
Without even realizing, my hand rose, coming into contact with his own, where he subtly took hold upon impact. His hands were rough from battle, yet soft all the same, making me completely hypnotic to his every move.
And before I knew it, we were dancing, swaying in a delicate pattern that closely matched the music in the background.
"You look beautiful tonight," He would say to me in genuine compliment. Never did I receive random compliments in such a manner, not unless it was from a boy from a one night stand with the mindset of self-gain. This was real. And for the first time in so long that night, I smiled and basked in the delight.
I never learned how to dance. We aren't taught to, nor does the Tower support or fund classes to teach such things, yet it is a common act among guardians. You would be surprised at the moves people can come up with at the Tower. Never have I danced until now, yet I managed perfectly, the movement appearing to just come naturally as my ability to formulate viable thoughts was disabled. I was too distracted by him, my eyes never leaving his.
His opposite hand was placed on the exposed skin of my back, pulling me close to him as we shared a moment of recreation. I could feel his void attach to my solar, making the warmth of my body relax to a comfortable temperature. I was at ease.
And we carried on like that. For hours, perhaps, I didn't keep up. All until the darkness of the night was evident and fireworks painted the sky. Never did we submit to fatigue, for we were too mesmerized by the moment to do so.
But eventually, those fireworks did come to an official hush, thus, our dance did as well.
I remember him asking me to stay, saying I did not yet need to return to my work, but I hesitantly refused.
"How long will you be gone?" He asked with what seemed to be anticipation. "When will I see you again?"
If I was being honest, I didn't know. I never knew. I went into battle with the mindset that I might die and I might never return. And so I turned away from him and moved to board my ship, but stopped beforehand.
Remembering the night before and how I didn't want to leave him like that again, I turned, staying, "Some day, Greenhorn," before closing the door to my Valkyrie and taking off into space.
AUTHORS NOTE:
I just want to apologize for the lack of uploading, guys! That last month before the release of Forsaken, I was completely out of Destiny and was focused on playing other games. No muse for Destiny = no muse for writing Destiny. Luckily, Forsaken revived the game as I'd expect, and I'm excited to continue writing Celestial! In apology, I'm giving you guys an extra long chapter.
I would of written this sooner, but that grind for 600 light is consuming all my time, lmao. Prime engram drop and milestone luck is currently not on my side, I'm still sitting at 566 light. My clan and I are also working on our first last wish completion and its so hard to correlate schedules so it is taking forever. Ugh.
ANYWAYS, Ren and Zavala finally get closer to each other this chapter, but unfortunately ended with her departure. I will say, next chapter is when this story will live up to it's title and the true journey of Ren as the Celestial Nighthawk begins. Big things are coming.
As always, thank you all so much for reading! Don't forget to like and follow!
Also, REVIEWS would be greatly appreciated! I want to know what you guys think!
Stay tuned for chapter four!