Step Nine: Make the Choice

"I believe now that my brother and Warlock Anton are more alike than Uldren cares to admit. That, I know in my heart, is why he did what he did... even if it was against my wishes."- Queen Mara Sov

She had fought and snuck her way through the hordes of vex that had stood between her and the door. A Minotaur had nearly caught her in the face, breaking her sunglasses, which had left a cut beneath her left eye. She threw the broken pair to the ground outside, and took out her spare set from her side pouch, flicking them open and putting them on her face.

Her Ghost floated out from her hood, and scanned the floaty thingy that stood before the Gate.

"Well, the Heart should be just beyond here." he said shakily. "All we need is permission to enter; as a Gatelord."

She took the device from where it had been strapped to her waist, frowning as she noticed the shivery tiredness in his voice, like he was ill.

"You feeling okay, Ghost?" she inquired. There was a definite droop to his shell, and come to think of it, she wasn't feeling the best either. But, I don't get sick! What's wrong with me?

"It's the Darkness." he told her simply. "To me, and to Guardians... well, this could possibly be the closest feeling to that of sickness that you'll ever get. Your genetic jackpot gave you a monster of an immune system. It's the Darkness; large concentrations of it tend to make Guardians and Ghosts feel ill."

She felt a shiver slip up her spine. "Well, I don't like it! Let's get going!"

She shoved the Eye into the slot, and is floated up into the air, lines forming all around it.

"I'm pretty sure there's some cheap joke about connect-the-dots here somewhere." she commented, trying to summon up a grin. But the Darkness seemed to press at her very body, forcing the expression down before it could start. Her head felt heavy, and it felt like she was swimming in the air. It was like every joy had been sucked out of her, and she would never be happy again.

The gate began to open, loudly, clunking banging through the air like gunshots. She watched it open, revealing a big, almost comical, floating blob hovering above what looked like a cut-in-half vex gate. A blast of the sick feeling overtook her, and for a moment, she thought she was going to vomit.

"Pure darkness..."her Ghost murmured, floating closer to her with a whir as they took in the sight of the massive... erm, mass.

"Well, here goes-"

"WAIT! HEATHER! WAAAIIIIIT!" SNAPPLE CRACKS! She whirled around to see Martin scrambling up the stairs to meet her. She could see his Sparrow down below, left on its side.

"Martin, I told you to stay with the Queen!" she shouted, dread slamming into her and wailing internally. Martin couldn't do this! He couldn't suffer this kind of death... this was her fight, not his...

He ground to a halt in front of her, hands on his knees, supporting himself, gasping for breath. He had the Deathening strapped to his back, and he looked up at her with green eyes glinting. He was wearing his robes again, and he was wearing the Iron Banner helmet she'd managed to charm Saladin into giving him once. Though, now that she thought about it, the Iron Lord may have just relented to get her to shut up.

"Queen's...safe." he panted. "Uldren's here...I couldn't leave you to go by yourself, Heather..."

"Martin..."

"No! You...aren't talking me out of this one! I am not...running away this time! I'm a Guardian, too!"

"Dude, you do realize this is a god we're fighting here?"

"They...they said Crota was a god too, but look what happened to him. Let's just face... it; the real God can't be shot at or killed. All these other guys are just a... bunch of galactic losers."

Silverhawk sighed, looking down at the ground. I'm really not stopping him this time, are I? She pulled Ol' Reliable out of its holster, and Martin, still panting, lifted up his shotgun.

"We'll do this together, Heather. Like we always do." he said. She managed a smile, despite the Darkness. Turning, she stepped forwards, and Martin came up to her left side. She felt him take her hand in his, and together they looked at their foe, beckoning them forwards into it's lair.

"Well...ready to kill a god?" her Ghost asked, slipping over to her head before floating over to her other ear.

"There's only one God mam, and I'm pretty sure he doesn't dress like that." Martin commented, trying to crack a smile. Silverhawk felt a bit better at the sound of the reference.

"Dude, you are like, my hero with that reference." she told him.

"Thanks. And... maybe when this is all over, do you think maybe we'll be actual heros? I've never been a hero before..." he wondered out loud, before looking ahead again. She squeezed his hand.

"You're more of a hero than you think, Martin. You saved me. Now, we just... have to try and save everybody else." she told him. It was more true than he knew. He was a hero, her hero. Her big, idiot, brainless Warlock hero. He was always putting himself down; if only he knew how far high up he actually was!

"A-alright." he decided shakily. He offered a weak smile. "L-lets go kick these galactic losers off our lawn, right?"

"Right!" she grinned at him toothily.

Hand-in-hand, they stepped into oblivion, and the door began to shut behind them. The Darkness seeped outwards all throughout the Garden, seething all the way out into the place where two Guardians and two royal Awoken sat awaiting their fates.

It was like a sucker punch to the gut.

Uldren had at last been re-united with his sister. He still felt cold, hungry, tired beyond all belief. But the anxiety that had weighed heavy on his shoulders all through that day had been lifted away. She was safe at his side once more, draped in his cloak, shivering, pale, and hurt.

But alive.

They approached the area they had come through the Gate at. He could see and smell a fire going; one of the twins must have had a flame stick with them. Ethan stood up as they approached. Alfie was still propped up against the wall, near the fire, beads of sweat on his face and a dark splotch on his side where his blood had darkened the bandages his brother had wrapped him in.

Ethan had taken his helmet off, revealing him and Alfie to be near completely identical, if it weren't for the fact that Ethan, indeed had a scar of all things; a thin black mark, near his left eyebrow. A weapon had to be incredibly dark to leave a scar on a Guardian, so he guessed it had come from their battle with Crota. Such markings were known as Dark Burns, and they were very rare, usually acquired through battle with the Hive, sometimes the Vex. He'd once had a Crow get scarred by a Fallen as well.

"Well, that was fast." The Titan commented stiffly. He was probably still sour from Uldren's earlier outburst, for which he didn't feel sorry for.

"As it turns out, there was another fireteam in here." He informed. Ethan's eyebrows quirked up, and Alfie lifted his head tiredly with interest.

"Really? Who?" the Titan asked. Bessy hovered over his left shoulder, glaring at the Prince judgmentally.

"Silverhawk and her Warlock toy." Uldren said, causing Ethan's eyebrows to go higher, the thin scar stretching with his skin. He opened his mouth to speak... and then it happened.

It hit them with a force that made Uldren stagger, and he had to hold Mara upright to keep her from falling over. Alfie took in a shaky gasp of pain, and Ethan reach for the wall to steady himself, one hand on his forehead. Darkness danced in his vision, and for a few moments, he thought he was going to pass out.

It was like… something had leaked into the very air. It made the oxygen around him feel heavy and sticky, and sick. There wasn't enough air in the world for him to breathe right now, because the something seemed to dig itself into his chest, gripping his lungs and keeping him from sucking in air. His heart pounded in his chest like it was trying to burst out of his rib cage and escape from the force that was pressing in on him, constricting him, mocking him all the while.

The initial feeling passed gradually, and he took in shaking gasps of air. But the black force that had attacked them lingered on in the air, and everything had taken on a darker hue. A terrified gasp escaped Alf's lips.

"Crota!" he semi-wailed, lips quivering. Besides Uldren, Mara's shaking had increased, and he tightened his hold on her shoulder. Ethan shook his head, as if trying to shake off cobwebs. Bessy hovered low at his shoulder, shell drooping as if she, too, felt incredibly ill. His every instinct screamed at him from every angle, warning of danger from every shadow and crack. His heart still pounded, and he couldn't suppress the shudders that kept rolling up his spine.

"No. Not Crota." Ethan corrected his brother, voice hoarse and tight with pain, as if he were ill. "Just Darkness. They must have challenged the Heart."

So, this is the Heart's doing? Silverhawk and Martin had actually done it. They were going up against the Darkest thing known to exist aside from Crota himself. That means… this stuff all around us, it must be the Heart flooding the place with Darkness.

He had encountered heavy Darkness before. In his line of work, it was unavoidable. He could still remember his first time, he'd still been new to the whole 'Crow' business; his father had headed the elite scouts at the time. Uldren had been tracking a lead on some Golden Age tech that could help enhance the Reef's oxygen barriers, and had tracked the tech to Earth's moon.

His father had given him an extensive pre-scouting debrief, warning him repetitively about the dangers of the Hive. Uldren had been much less cautious back then; he'd been young, and as just as cocky as any Hunter could ever be. He'd gone underground, and had found the tech successfully. But before he could return to the Reef triumphant, he'd encountered a legendary monstrosity that he hadn't realized, at the time, to have been there.

His father had warned him of Crota, of the Hive prince's commanders. But Uldren had been too caught up in himself to listen. So it ended up that he'd had to hide away in a crack in a wall, back turned and hood up, using his cloak to camouflage himself as what he would later learn to be called the Swarm Princes marched past with their followers, a massive sword hung between them all.

He'd returned to the Reef shaken from the experience, but had gained vital intel on the Hive none the less, even if he hadn't understood the purpose of this ritual. He'd felt a sensation similar to the one he'd just experienced, but this was on a whole different level, and he wasn't a greenhorn Crow anymore.

Fighting back the sick feeling, he led his sister over to the fire. She had said little to nothing since Martin's mad dash to Silverhawk, and he could tell by her face that she was simply too tired to speak at this point. I swear, when we get out of here, I'm going to rip Tay limb from limb when I find her!

"The way I see it, the only thing left to do is wait. Because apparently," he couldn't keep the sneer out of his voice," the only way out is if those two nitwits succeed."

"Do you think we're supposed to do something?" Silverhawk whispered to her friend. The Vex were just sitting there, worshiping king blob.

"I don't know." Martin whispered back, swallowing hard, grip tightening on his shotgun. Silverhawk lent down, fighting the urge to vomit, picked up a rock, and threw it as hard as she could.

"Heather!" Martin whined. The stone clucked against the back of one Vex, and they waited for several tense moments. She put her hands on her hips with a huff.

"Well, they're a lively bunch." She commented dryly. She took a bold, lazy few steps forwards.

The Vex stirred. One by one, their arms shifted out of the positions they had been in, and they all turned, still kneeling, to look at the two lights that had intruded on their domain under guise of one of their commanders.

"Silverhawk, they're all looking at us." Martin stated nervously out of the corner of one mouth, knees shaking with fear.

"Just picture them in their underwear." She deadpanned.

The Vex screeched, and they all gradually got to their feet.

"Should we go for the Heart or take out the Vex?" Martin asked her. Two Vex appeared just beside him. His eyes widened as he whirled around, and the Goblins screeched.

"Take out the Vex." Silverhawk told him. Two bangs went off as Martin fired his shotgun at them, blowing them apart. The sound of more Vex teleporting caught her ear, and she whirled around in time to stab her knife up the juice box abdomen of another Goblin. With the other hand, she fired Ol'Reliable, pumping the second Goblin's chest full of lead.

Staby, staby, bang bang, staby, staby, bang bang! She went inside her head, humming the little tune out loud as more Vex kept teleporting up to the broken stairs they were on. The Vex down below continued to fire up at them as well, and she got the feeling it would soon be time for a little doom and boom.

"Silverhawk, we can't stay up here forever! We can't get the ones down there, they're just-OW-going to keep shooting at us!" Martin called to her, yelping as a Goblin stopped on his foot before he could shoot it.

"Alright! Let's teach 'em how to dance!" Silverhawk declared. She took a running leap off the stairs, and reached inside herself to pull open the lid on the storm that raged within her always. Lightning sheathed itself around her, and the arc sped up her senses, her movements, her blades themselves as she pulled them from their sheaths.

She hit the ground running, and launched herself at the Vex, blades slashing. She cut several in half at the abdomen, dashing from point to point on the battlefield. Finding herself in a position where enemies were all around her, she leaped, twirling and letting the arc loose below her. It spread across the ground in a hungry wave, seeking out the Darkness and sending it screaming away in a flash of electric particles.

She landed, and charged again at several Hobgoblins. Her blades made quick work of them, and their rifles always missed. At last, she discharged the last of her arc, her senses still running high with lightning. She looked around herself, and then adjusted her fedora with a smirk. No more Vex!

"Hey, I killed them all!" she called to Martin from the central platform, waving her arms cheerily at him. On the stairs, he shrugged in exasperation.

"How am I supposed to get down from here!?" he asked hopelessly, shotgun still in hand.

"Well, how about you jump." she suggested.

"Are you kidding me? From this high up! I'll sprain my ankle or something!" he shouted.

"Don't worry; I'll catch you! Just think of it as a trust exercise!" she called, running up to the stairs, and holding out her arms as if to embrace him as he fell, grinning broadly.

"The last time we did a trust exercise, you let me fall and I got a concussion!"

"...touché."

A strange noise behind her made her head turn. The Heart was doing something. Something really not blazing. She looked back up at her friend.

"Martin, Jump!" she urged him. Fearfully, the Warlock leapt, and she tried to cushion his fall as best she could.

This attempt was met with a blast of pain as he landed on top of her. Blazing idea, Silverhawk! Let the 5"10 Warlock land on your 4"10 frame. Blazing.

"Sorry!" he yelped on top of her. She grunted as his knee dug into his back as he scrambled to get off of her. He helped her back to her feet, picking up his shotgun and straightening her fedora. They both looked up at the Heart, which had done a bad, bad thing indeed.

They watched as one of the statues began to move.

"Oh, sweet frabjous underwear." she exclaimed. The statue twisted, and stone broke away, a massive Minotaur striding out.

"Not good." Martin gulped beside her faintly.

If there was one thing the Prince of the Reef was bad at, it was waiting patiently. He could sit on stakeout in a cramped snipers nest for days on end with minimal food and water, but just plain waiting? No. Just... no.

He sighed and shifted his position again. His wiggling was starting to get on Mara's nerves, he could tell. She was laid down with his cloak wrapped wound her, head resting on a mossy boulder. There was no end to her tiredness, he could tell, and every time he looked at her, how pale she was, how much pain she was in, he seethed with rage. Images of brutal ways he could kill Tay flashed through his head, from cutting her limbs off before stabbing her through the heart, to full on disembowelment.

If we ever get out of here. The stress of the Darkness pressing in on him was wearing his nerves thin. He'd had enough of a bad day already; this was the last thing he needed. Mara was too tired to care, she was on the edge of sleep, but he didn't know how much longer he could take it.

The waiting. The Darkness. The waiting. The Darkness. And always with the waiting, and always with the Darkness. Alf sat with his back against the wall, breathing heavily with fever, occasional whimpers escaping his lips, some of which sounded like things having to do with the Hive. Ethan poked at the fire with a knife, one hand clasped over his brother's.

Their auto rifles were propped against the wall. His eyes kept straying to the weapons. Silverhawk was an idiot. Martin was a looser. An idiot and a looser. What chance did an idiot and a looser have against the Heart of the Black Garden?

Perhaps they need a half-dead Crow as well. he thought dryly. Actually, come to think of it... would that be a good idea?

He wanted nothing more than to never see Silverhawk again. But though she might possess one iota of skill, Martin had none. They had no advantages over the Vex what so ever. He'd been fighting Vex half his life. He had trained from day one as one of the Reef's deadliest generals. He could take each of the Paladins on in hand-to-hand combat. Heck, he recently found himself wandering to the thought of challenging a Techeun.

Were he to join in the fight against the Heart... how much more would that increase their chances? Light and party tricks only went so far. And if they failed... the rest of them would be trapped in here. Alfie probably wouldn't be able to make it for much longer. Mara was in bad shape as well, though it seemed as if her leg had gotten a higher level of treatment than Alfie's side. They had little to no rations; he would give his to Mara if it came to it. How long could the healthiest of them survive in here, if Silverhawk and Martin failed?

Not long. He realized. Their dive into oblivion would be all for naught. Mara would die, they all would. But if he and Ethan left Alf and Mara undefended... the Vex would close in before you could say "space urchins".

"What's your career?" he asked suddenly of Ethan, piercing the Titan with a studious gaze, assessing him.

"Defender. Why?" he answered briskly. Probably still bitter about Uldren's earlier behavior. Defender. Suitable.

Like always, Mara read right through him.

"Don't you dare, Uldren." she warned, with that 'obey me or die' look a Queen often found herself practicing. He ignored her, eyeing the auto rifles. This is the only way, and you know it as well as I do, sister.

He stood up.

"What are you doing?" Ethan questioned, as Mara sat up angrily.

"Uldren Cavance Sov, you get back here now!" He suppressed a shudder and a childish whine as she shouted his middle name, but he picked up one of the rifles anyway.

"If she'd not alive when I return, you won't be for long either." he told the Titan, searing him with a burning gold gaze to make sure the message got across completely. Mara got shakily to her feet, staggering somewhat as she did so.

"You will comply, Uldren. You're staying here." the tone of her voice implied there would be punishment later for disobeying. He would hand in his position as head of the Crows if it meant she got out of here safely. He... he would die facing the Heart if it meant she got out of here safely.

He still ignored her, even when she yelled his name as he ran back the way they had come. He would save her, even if it meant he had to die. He steeled himself against the Darkness, something inside him rearing and hissing at it as he ran. For the first time, it occurred to him that if they succeeded, Mara would be the first person ever to survive one of Della Tay's assassinations.

Tay's 'prize' will be rendered false. I wonder how she will come at me for ruining her hit? Assuming he survived this of course. Not to mention, his Crow drone had blinded her left side. In the back of his mind, he remembered that Petra Venj was blind on the left side as well. I should spar with her a few times when I get the chance.

Tay would no doubt adapt her fighting style to accommodate her new complication. He could spar with Petra a few times, learn how she compensated, hopefully prepare himself for whatever techniques Tay might come up with, if it came to close combat with her. Grant it, fighting Della Tay would no doubt be quite different than fighting Petra Venj, but it would still be useful to have some experience fighting someone who was half blind.

Just because someone was minus an eye, that didn't mean they were any less of a fighter than they had been before. He couldn't afford to underestimate her. Tay was a survivor. He let out a snort of contempt.

I'm not sure if I'll live or die and I'm already planning for a fight with Tay!

He stopped near the wall, close to the place he'd found Mara at, out of breath. He shook his head, blinking away spots. Still a little weak from Mara's earlier attempt at reaching him, it seemed. He pounded a fist on a stone. Space urchins! I'll never get there in time at this rate!

Still panting, he caught something out of the corner of his eye. He double took. There it was; a way to go faster. So why did he let loose an internal groan?

Oh, damn.

Silverhawk rolled behind cover with Martin, taking in a sharp gasp at the pain that lanced through her shoulder as she did so. A blast had grazed her earlier, and as she came to a halt, her Warlock friend grabbed her by the arm and examined the wound quickly.

She had pulled out the Sparky Sparky Boom Boom Stick on the Minotaur that had once been a statue. Then, conveniently enough, the Heart had brought another statue to life! According to Westley, this use of power was weakening the Heart. There was one more statue left, and the second one was starting to get on her nerves.

"Silverhawk, I'm all out of ammo." Martin told her, eyes wide, indicating his shotgun. She looked down at Ol' Reliable and Hawkmoon. She had one clip of ammo for them left each. And the Sparky-Boom was out of ammo as well.

"Get the Deathening, and let's give 'em all we got left!" She told him fiercely. He took the sack off his back, and she gave him cover fire as he unfolded the Deathening and loaded it. DIE you frabjously unfashionable buckets of bolts!

Martin finished loading the Deathening, and their eyes met.

"It's been a good run, hasn't it?" he asked. "Even though I'm useless?"

"You've never seemed useless to me." she told him earnestly, clasping a hand on his shoulder. "And yeah. It's been the best run ever! Blazing!"

Martin took a deep breath, blinking and pale. She could tell, he was trying not to cry. She could see his eyes screaming, "I don't want to die", over and over again, endlessly. He dropped the Deathening, and wrapped his arms around her, shaking, both of them careful that their heads didn't make skin contact.

She shut her eyes for a fraction of a second, regretting more than ever not waiting for Tevis. This is it. This is where we die. She hoped that this time would be less painful than the last. She hoped she fell first, so that she did have to watch the light fade from Martin's eyes. She hoped to fall with a smile on her face and a cheer on her lips; her last laugh, in the face of the Darkness.

"I've enjoyed this, too, Heather Chancellor." Westley's voice came from her hood. "I never regret finding you. Never. Not in our darkest moments."

Suddenly, as something caught in her throat, there was a loud, booming, bang. She broke away from Martin with a small jump backwards.

"What the waffles!?" her friend exclaimed, both of them, and the Vex, looking in the direction of the sound. It had come from the Gate to the Heart's lair. Again, an earth-rattling bang as something impacted the door, denting it heavily this time.

"Oh, sweet frabjous underwear."

I wasn't planning to update until next week, but this is a celebratory chapter. Celebrating what, exactly? I finished writing Heartbusters. That's right folks, it's 100% complete now. I'll be starting work on Wolfsbane shortly, and lemme tell ya, it's going to be a doozy, with a few exciting new additions to our cast, including a very lovable but sometimes scary little Ghost who I haven't written about yet but already adore.

Be sure to get hyped for a lot of Variks and the Reef gang! Wolfsbane is going to be considerably different than Fever and Heartbusters, mostly because the focus isn't mainly on Uldren; it's getting to know Variks, Martin, and a few other's a bit more, and exploring the deeper sides to the Reef life that we haven't been able to explore yet. And seeing as Uldren had banned Silverhawk from ever stepping foot there, it will be a very new experience not having her as a constant presence.

Not that there won't be any Silverhawk in Wolfsbane; she actually goes on a rather lovely adventure with our favorite Nightstalker...

FeiryWarlock: I'd appreciate it if you didn't take the Lord's name in vain in the reviews section; I'm a Catholic, and one of those curse-sensitive people, so please. Not to sound petty, or anything. And if you have a problem with that, pour all you insults out into a rude PM and leave it there so it stays out of the reviews.

Order and Chaos: The tracks were caused by the Sparrows. And I've already finished the story, and it's a bit late to add in real live Daleks, so... as much as it kills me to say no... But fear not, shipper. Uldren will be getting a love interest, though it will be slow going. Amber and I are calling it the 'Crowwood v.s. Sovgers War of Desolation'. Or otherwise... Onion V.S. Mountain Smackdown. Get used to that 'Onion' thing; your going to be seeing it a lot once Wolfsbane hits. Sorry to say, the Twins don't play that big a role. Originally, they were, but then I decided Brask, Tevis, and Cayde would be Silverhawk and Martin's childhood heros...

Guest: Oh, a certain Ghost in Wolfsbane(the one I mentioned adoring) is going to knock you socks off, I think. I have a feeling everybody's going to love him. In my head, Wheatly sounds a little like Dincklbot, and Westley sounds like Nolandroid, though that Ghost I adore sound like Nolan, too; just with a bit of an accent. A british one. Subtle, but noticeable.

This Is Sarcasm: I thought an eagle-eyed reader might mention that. I'ma say yes, we will be meeting Lyse Ravenwood. it's going to be a wild ride.

MaybeALittleBroken: I know that feeling. I'm dead inside right now; I NEED to sleep. But I WANT to WRITE.

alienraptor: Hunters are the master race. We can be suicidal, too!

Ahhh, almost over. I'm a bit disappointing with how short this fic is coming up to be. It's barley over half as long as Fever. Well, enjoy Silver while you can, cause once Wolfsbane hits, you're going to have to get your daily Hunter shenanigans fix from 15 Seconds. Get hyped for Variks!

Next Time: Be fresh. Be Frabjous. Become Legend. And Uldren still hates Sparrows.

Cheers!^^