On the sixth day of Destiny 2,
My true love gave to me;
Six knives to go!
If she was any weapon, it would be... a blade. One like the knives she was so fond of. Precise, sharp, silent save the sound of movement. Yes, the word 'knife' described her perfectly. Yet even with this comparison personifying her, he found it... very difficult to decide just who and what she was.
He just didn't get her. With was unsettling, because his skills were unmatched when it came to figuring people out. Perhaps... perhaps it was because she had no voice? Because there were no tones to analyze, no inflections to pick apart, simply body motion he didn't understand. And much of those motions involved throwing weapons at the targets in the Vestian Outpost's training grounds.
Throwing blades into fake hears, heads, throats, joints vital for movement. Uldren watched as each shining knife found it's target. He guessed she might be particularly frustrated today, because it seemed like she was emptying her entire arsenal into the poor dummie Fallen set up around the arena. At least... he thought she was frustrated. He wondered what about, if she was.
He had been... doubtful, when he found out one of the Guardians that frequented the Outpost was a mute. That one of the Guardians hitting the wolves the most couldn't utter a single word. Then the reports from the field came in. Then, he started coming here to watch her train. Then... he realized that nothing about her made any sense at all.
Electively mute. A sign of weakness surely... but then why are Wolf Barons dropping like flies, with slit throats and daggers sticking out of their hearts? Was it possible to be weak yet strong? Or was there some kind of... gray area? His whole life, he had only known people to come in black and white; strong or weak. Courageous or cowardly. There was no place in-between. Yet here was someone who hovered just there, where he couldn't quite get a grasp of where to place her.
He couldn't understand it, couldn't understand her... but most of all, he couldn't understand why it bothered him so much. Like he felt he should know what to do with her but didn't, an itch he couldn't quite scratch, a memory he couldn't quite find; a life he couldn't quite remember, like in some other place entirely, she was significant, yet at the same time, not.
Sierra Rogers was the enigma that had finally stumped him, Prince Uldren Sov, the Master of Crows, who knew just about everything and every how, who held more power in his hands than any man in the Reef ever had. Why?
There were six dummies left without weapons sticking out of them, and he realized that, quite suddenly, she had stopped. He watched as her arms fell to her sides, a heavy sigh escaping her lips, the posture and sounds of someone who was just so tired. But tired of what?
They don't need to sleep. They can't even die. Why would a Guardian be tired? But perhaps the first two former where exactly the answer to the latter. If you lived forever... how could you not get tired, of the same fight day, after day, after day? Perhaps... perhaps that was one thing he could understand about her. Anyone could see the exhaustion of those who couldn't be killed. The sweet sleep of death was the one end goal of all living things, the one true prize of peace they were assured.
Uldren backed out of the shadows. He'd seen enough for today. Rogers made his brain hurt.
There were six knives left to be thrown, and a life with no end to live for her.
And now a very special visit from a very special Hunter! Jay gave me permission to play with her mute for a chapter, and I've always wondered what Sierra would be like in canon Destiny, and what canon Uldren might think about her.
That being said, I AM SO SORRY THIS UPDATE WAS LATE! I was super busy today and didn't have time to update.
jsm1978-LoL, I actually thought about LoZ chickens when I made that chapter.
Look up to tomorrow!
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