"Come now, keep flying!" Timur urged. The ground was blasted dangerously close to him, and he felt adrenaline rush through him. This is the way to live!

"What do you think I'm doing!?" the chosenless Ghost zooming at his side yelled back, weaving to avoid a wire rifle shot.

"Talking!" he answered. He vaulted over a fallen log as the Fallen continued to shoot at them, and he crouched down behind it for cover.

"This is the place, right?" he asked. The Ghost scanned the ground at his feet.

"Yes! They're here!" he was helping her find her chosen. She'd been out here in the wilds, the Fallen closing in, a new chosen just a mile away, no other Iron Lords around for days of walking... it was an adventure Timur simply could not resist.

"Wake them up quick! Newton, you say there's an abandoned factory somewhere around here?" he asked out loud. His own Ghost materialized in front of him, flinching as a rifle shot clipped the log and hit the ground behind them.

"Yes! I can't tell what it made, but it's definitely a factory; just north of here!" he confirmed as the other Ghost revived her chosen for the first time. Timur watched in fascination, his hand cannon still held up. First time revivals were always interesting. A skeleton was visible briefly before flesh surged out of it, engulfing the carcass, skin forming, and light clothes covering them, all of this happening in the space of a few seconds.

The young man gasped, heaving for air, gray-green eyes flying open. He was young, though looked to be a few years older than Efrideet had been. His hair was messy and blond, and his skin had a tan to it that could point to him having spent a majority of his life someplace sunny.

"Hello there!" Timur chirped, cutting the Ghost off before she could speak; odd, of course, because usually the Ghost was the first thing a chosen heard. Timur shook his hand feverishly. "I'm terribly sorry to drop this on you now, but we have to run for our lives, I'm afraid."

The young man gawked, mouth opening and closing soundlessly in astonishment.

"Now, we don't have time for the long version of things." Timur said as more fallen bullet fire rained down on their cover. "So I'll give you the short version; the most likely thing you last remember is dying, and yes, you were dead, your Ghost revived you and unlocked your true powers so that you can protect humanity from the four-armed, bug-eyed alien that are currently trying to kill us-"

He stood up, and shot the head off a Fallen.

"-among other things."

If anything, he looked overwhelmed, as in he might have a panic attack. "I... I was... dead...?"

"Yes. Now suck it up and start running." Timur pulled the young man to his feet, and ran away into the woods, dragging the newly-revived chosen along with him. The chosen's Ghost flew along after them, trying to explain and reassure her new partner, glaring at Timur for his lack of sympathy.

Soon, they reached the abandoned facility.

"Now, here's how we're going to do this. Those Fallen, will come in after us, and we're going to put our heads together to come up with an incredibly clever plan to kill over fifty enemy fighters in less than the three allotted minutes we have until they reach this place in full force. Suggestions?" Timur asked. The young man was still gawking at him, mouth opening and closing soundlessly, bewilderment and panic etched into his features.

"Alright; we'll do this my way then! Chop, chop, and do as I say!"

A few minutes later, and the Fallen forced their way into the abandoned building. The Lights were here, the Fallen all knew. The Captain at their head swiveled his head from side to side, seeking out the chosen, trying to pick up their scent. His eyes widened right before a heavy canister slammed into him, sending him flying into the wall at the far end of the facility with several of his men as the heavy object swung down from the second floor.

"SURPRISE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" Timur yelled as cheerily and loudly as he could, before taking out his hand cannon with a twirl. Taking aim, he shot the canister as it sung low near the Fallen again, and the whole thing exploded.

Unfortunately, he'd miscalculated the yield of the container, and on the second floor, he was sent flying over the railing and into the wall, before falling down to the first floor with a sickening crunch. The new chosen, meanwhile had hid behind an electric console, and his eyes widened in horror as the Iron Lord was struck down. Remaining Fallen poured through the door, which had turned into rather large, gaping hole in the wall. Their eyes found Timur, and his Ghost disappeared before they could shoot it, the tiny robot zooming away to hide, and unable to revive it's chosen.

The newly revived chosen had only seconds to think, and even less time to act. He saw something that could be used. Bracing himself, he ran across the rusted, breaking catwalk, and backed up as far as he could before taking a running leap to latch onto the hook of a derelict crane. He slammed the chain near the base of the dangling piece with his fist as he did so, breaking the rust and sending the hook crashing down as his forewords momentum sent it swinging rapidly towards the Fallen.

He stuck his legs out as he neared the ground, pain running up his legs as he struck several Fallen down, sending them skidding across the ground, either dead or otherwise incapacitated. He jumped off, rolling on the ground painfully, before looking up to see three Fallen looming over him. Instinct made something inside him rise, bristle at the sight of them, and he scrambled to his feet, rolling first to dodge the bolt of arc shots aimed at his head. He threw his hand out, striking the nearest one in the chest with his palm, something channeling along his arm and out as he did so, killing the creature and sending it flying away with a squeal of agony.

Another Fallen leapt on him, and he reacted too slowly. Two loud bangs rendered the two remaining Fallen headless, and he shoved the body off of him, scrambling away from it, heart pounding, adrenaline pumping through him, panting. He looked with shocked, wide eyes at Timur, who was now standing, alive, again, gun smoking. he seemed to bound up to the young man like an excited rabbit, grin so broad it could have cracked his face, pulling him to his feet while talking excitedly.

"Excellent! Bravo! You my friend are a thinker! A thinker, indeed! A fellow Warlock if ever there was one!" he hadn't the faintest idea what a 'Warlock' was, but the term sounded... right, somehow. Made him feel like he might belong to something in this strange, unusual, dangerous world that he'd only known for about... fifteen minutes.

"Now, what's you name lad? I'll tell you everything on the way back to home!" Timur asked eccentrically. He stuttered. Did he have a name? There was a name on his lips, a banished memory, just a filament, a fog, but it was there, and it was all there was.

"C-Colovance." he answered. Was it his name? He had no idea. But it belonged to him, as did that broad, over-excited smile of the man in front of him. As did the Lignt and all its cures and wonders, as did brotherhood and companionship that he did not yet know, as did the promise of a thousand grief's to come, some from the broad, over-excited smile of the man in front of him. As did life, again.

As did a vow beneath an Ironwood Tree.

Please, don't murder me for taking so long. I am SO SORRY! I got distracted by something shiny, then I started playing Mass Effect, and everything escalated quickly from there. I HAVE NOT FORGOTTEN THIS SERIES! I promise, I'll write some more over the course of this month.

I'm glad people still like this, and FusRoDerp, I just NEED to say, I love your username. It's pure genius.

We might be meeting Felwinter in the next chapter or two... I hope you guys liked Colovance's background story, here.

Read and REVIEW!