A Step too Far
Chapter 1
Nothing Ventured...
An old Titan decides to climb off the walls and take a step away from the Traveler. He never intended to walk so far.
It was dark, the moment they crossed that threshold everything turned into nothing but darkness.
Their light was fading, fast. He had to do something. Anything!
With a shimmer, the Ghost let his consciousness merge with the ship. In milliseconds, power was re-routed, circuits were cut and parts jettisoned. He was taking a massive gamble, if he shunted enough power through the jump-drive he might be able to weaken the Gateway's grasp on the ship just enough to escape.
Of course, this was all theoretical, he had no idea what would happen. It just might make the ship explode for all he knew.
Nothing ventured…
The Ghost recalled that phrase, manipulating the thousands of energy conduits to direct power through the capacitors whilst isolating all but one path to the jump-drive. The millisecond it they were at full charge he released the energy all at once.
Praetor told him that. Long ago, before The City existed. They had spent many years wandering from place to place, shining their Light to the Darkness that had infested Earth. The undying Vex on Mercury burned as he threw Sol's wrath to consume them. The Fallen fled in terror as he wielded their Arc against them. The Hive on the Moon tried to swarm him as he ripped the Void from them.
After so long, they were both tired. Praetor sought out the Traveler, to bask in its light and rest.
The sight of so many people still alive gave him a renewed energy. It gave him a new purpose. The first Vanguard had been divided back then, unable to decide on a single path or plan.
He laid the first brick of the wall that would defend the City, saying those very words. He wanted to stand as a Titan, a stalwart defender against the Darkness. In time, as more Guardians began to appear, Praetor shared with them his views and they too, laid their bricks alongside his own.
Time stood still as the Ghost took one final look towards his tired Guardian, his Light barely a flicker amongst the Darkness that surrounded them. It wouldn't take much to render him unconscious. He uttered a single phrase before letting his light merge with the surging energy.
Nothing Gained.
"Goodbye Guardian."
"Report!"
"Ma'am, the Gateway just destroyed itself!"
"What? How!"
"I'm not sure Ma'am, but well… we all felt something just before it died."
"What was it? Please, describe it to me."
"I-I felt as though, a brief light washed over us. The Ghosts are in agreement, it was a dying light."
"…Return to the Tower, we'll have to document these findings."
"Roger that, Ma'am."
A blurry white was the first thing that Praetor saw when he woke. Blinking away the blurriness, his vision focused enough for him to realise that he was still inside the cockpit of his ship. The pane of glass separating him from the outside was being slowly covered in a thin layer of snow. Shadows and flecks of sunlight danced across what little bits of clear glass remained. The emergency light inside was dim, staining everything a dark orange.
Praetor let out a groan as he pushed himself out of the chair, only to fall to his knees and grasp onto the dashboard.
He had not felt like this since he had first been reborn. His mind a bleary mess and his armour heavy.
"Ghost," rasped Praetor, as though his throat was dry. Hearing no response but the rustling wind outside, Praetor took a few deep breaths and heaved himself off the dash. He scrambled for a hand-hold to support himself, not trusting his feet alone with the task. With each step he took, more and more strength pulsed back into him. Mustering his voice he called out once more. "Ghost."
Once again, nothing. He was beginning to worry, just what had happened?
Leaning against his chair, the Guardian fumbled blindly along the wall for something he knew was there.
Ah, his fingers brushed against something. There you are. He grabbed hold and pulled it from the shadows.
A breach-action Hunting Shotgun. Matte black decorated with silver inlays along the two barrels. Its hand-crafted Walnut stock was home to a band of silver depicting the Tower and the Traveler. Slung along the underside of the gun was a simple leather strap.
It was a brother piece to a gift from a refugee whom he saved from a pack of Fallen. She had called it 'The Chaperone.' A fitting name to be sure, but for its brother, a new name was needed.
"Guardsman, my old friend," He breathed. Even now, Praetor still couldn't help but admire the craftsmanship that went into it. Every artist that was involved in its making wanted to thank him with something more than words.
He slung the weapon under his shoulder and continued to walk. As he neared the rear, where his Sparrow lay, his foot kicked something.
Praetor knelt down and gently held it up to the faint light. In his chest, he felt a pang of sorrow.
It was his Ghost's shell. Its Light had been extinguished. He was expecting, more hoping, to see a spark a flicker or something that would breathe life back into him. But it was silent.
He knew not how much time had passed as he knelt there, frozen, cradling his fallen Ghost in his hand. The other hand however, clenched in fury, rage, and despair.
Slowly, he rose. Carefully walking back to his chair, he kept his hand still as he stared into the Ghost's lifeless eye, willing, wishing and hoping that it would shine that magnificent blue once more.
He gently placed the Ghost down onto the dashboard, directly in front of him. His strength left him once more, as he fell into the chair.
His mind was at a loss. What was he to do? Without the Ghost, he would be lost… No longer a Guardian.
Days went by… He saw it through the window. Sunset and Moonrise, Moonset and Sunrise. For those days, he felt nothing. Not tiredness, not anger, not even sorrow. For him, time was still as he processed that single thought.
He is Gone
As the third sun rose, so did the Guardian. He had grieved. Now it was time to look after himself. He gathered some ammunition and stepped towards the emergency exit hatch. Resting on a rack next to it was a weapon he had not used in decades.
The gun was a simple Scout Rifle. Meant for mid-range engagements. The barrel ran the length of the gun, ending in a bullpup with a blocky magazine. Attached to the top rail was a simple 2x scope. A silver cowl hung over the barrel's exit, sweeping forward into two bladed edges which were stained red.
It was a prize he found during a raid on Mars, the local Cabal population were getting a bit too cocky and started attacking Guardian outposts. Praetor was sent in with two others. Only he came back out.
After the battle with the enemy, both were mortally wounded and their Ghosts crushed under the heavy boots of the Cabal. They asked Praetor for mercy, for him to grant them a quick death without suffering. He had obliged them with a heavy heart.
'The Coil' was a rare reminder of his mortality. Right now, he could use that reminder at all times. Especially without his Ghost to aid him.
He reverently grasped the rifle and pulled open the small emergency hatch.
Only for a gnashing jaw full of teeth to try force the door open faster. A quick punch stunned the beast long enough for Praetor to close the door before kicking it, nearly knocking it off the hinges. The beast on the other side was sent sprawling to the ground with a slight whimper. It quickly attempted to run, but was pinned by Praetor's boot as a bullet entered its brain.
Stupid, Praetor berated himself. Should've been watching the motion sensor. Seeing as it was currently clear, he knelt down and quickly examined the beast. The best way he could describe it was if a pre-Golden Age wolf had been tainted by the darkness itself. Its head was covered in a bone plate with two glowing red-yellow eyes and a large snout. The ink black fur was sometimes broken up by bone spikes mostly prominent along the spine.
Before he could check it further, he noticed several wedges from his motion sensor light up. He snapped The Coil up to his shoulder and did a quick sweep, revealing more of the same creatures amongst the woods.
Pack animals then?
The largest, and spikiest, of them easily stood twice as tall as the next in line. Praetor trained his gun on it as it stalked around until it was in front of him.
An alpha? He guessed.
It looked at him with curious animosity, examining him carefully. It turned its head slightly and snuffed at a couple of smaller beasts, who immediately tried to rush Praetor without a second thought.
"Testing me for weakness are you? Smart." The words, left him as he brought The Coil to bear.
The first was quickly gunned down with a couple of well-aimed bullets, the second however got close enough to swing its claw. Praetor stood his ground and weaved around the sloppy swing and delivered a punch to the side of its jaw, snapping the beast's neck from the sheer power behind it. The moment it died however, the body began to quickly dissolve with a purple wave that spread from the point of impact.
Wisps of purple flew off the body and flew into Praetor as a purple-blue aura formed around him. In a microsecond, his gun was reloaded and was shooting into the pack as he waded slowly towards them.
The Alpha howled an order and quickly bounded into the dark woods with three other large ones quickly behind it. The little ones that stayed behind charged Praetor as a whole.
Praetor took aim at the lead beast and cocked back his arm as if to throw a ball. As he began to swing it forward, a small ball of energy materialised in his hand. Praetor's aim was true and his grenade stuck and then exploded a second later, obliterating the front line of the beasts. Just before the energy dissipated, it suddenly rushed back and coalesced, before exploding once more taking out even more beasts.
The rest were undeterred and pressed their assault. Praetor slammed home another clip and let fly with another string of bullets. The lucky ones that got close had their bones broken as Praetor spun around their strikes and delivered both bullets and blunt force trauma.
One clever beast circled around, climbed on the ship and waited until the Guardian's back was turned to leap. That particular one earned a broken face-plate and two bullets to the heart as it was caught, slammed into the ground and fired upon.
With their numbers dwindling, the survivors beat a hasty retreat to the safety of the surrounding forest. Their howls grew faint as they drifted further away and once they had stopped all together, he lowered his weapon.
They'll come back with greater numbers, thought Praetor. The creatures behaved similar to wolves on Earth but with some key differences. The Alpha didn't attack, instead it decided to stay back, watch and examine how he fought. That meant it was much smarter than the ones that did attack. No doubt it figured that once Praetor showed his hand, it knew it wouldn't win.
"I need to move," he decided. Keeping the Coil in his hands, he climbed back inside the ship.
Several hours later Praetor's heavily armoured boots stepped out into the snow,
Inventory was his first priority, figuring out what he had, and how much he could carry. On his person, he was able to fit pouches of ammunition. Without the Ghost, he would be unable to carry a heavy weapon, such as a machine-gun or rocket launcher. Luckily, he came up with a solution.
The Sparrow had been mangled in the crash, thankfully however several of its components remained intact. Namely the hover module. He had tied the hover module and the ship's emergency power supply to a gun rack he had cleared and pulled from the wall. Laying on the rack, covered by a tarp, was a single machine gun with a few boxes of ammunition and provisions that he would need to survive. All of it, he would pull along with a small rope that was tied to his belt.
The whole thing was tied together with some high-tensile wire that the hunters were so fond of.
The final thing he needed to do was decide on a direction. Without a proper direction or long-term goal, he was sure to wander aimlessly.
A sure fire way to attract trouble, mused Praetor. I need to get up higher, to get a better view of the surroundings.
The Guardian trudged off towards the nearest rise, leaving deep tracks in the snow.
After a solid hour of walking, Praetor had made it to a hill top.
"I should get a good view from here," muttered Praetor. "Ok, initial survey reveals… One big ass mountain, One very large forest and…" he paused, seeing something quite favourable. "A whole bunch of chimney smoke."
Seeing as he lacked a compass, the only way he could note the direction of the possible village was 'That way'. At the very least it was opposite the mountain, so he had a bit of a direction to head in if he got too turned around. And as for now he held high-ground, so Praetor decided to indulge a little.
A few minutes later, he re-sealed his helmet and set off in the direction of the smoke.
It wasn't too much later that the sun had set and the moon began to shine. He honestly expected it to be darker. Perhaps it was a full moon tonight, he wouldn't be able to check until he got to a clearing.
"Ask, and ye shall receive." Praetor grunted, as he caught sight of such a clearing not too far from him. "Won't happen if I ask for a way back home, will it?"
He was answered by the chirps of insects. "I thought not."
Stepping out into the clearing, Praetor finally got a good look at the moon.
"Huh, that's certainly new." He whispered in awe. Above him shone an orb of a brilliant white. One side was almost identical to Earth's moon, Luna, whilst the other half was little more than scattered chunks of rock floating lazily after the larger piece. "I wonder what caused that."
He shook his head, this was no time to sit around pondering. He was in possible enemy territory, not to mention the wilderness.
"One problem at a time, Praetor." He said to himself. Just as he took a step, something flickered in his peripheral. Praetor turned to look, but nothing seemed out of place and the motion sensor hadn't even been triggered. With a simple shrug, he reasoned that his eyes were playing tricks on him.
Back in the bushes, a child with little cat ears and bright eyes poked their head out to see the big man leaving. In a flash they were running back to the road.
Aubrey was scared. There was a big man with guns walking towards her home, she had to tell Mummy and Daddy. She was out playing when she saw the man stop and look at the moon. Aubrey wasn't scared of the monsters, Daddy and his friends always kept them away from the village. Mummy always told her to never go outside at night though. But why shouldn't she go out at night if the monsters were scared away? Ugh grown-ups.
Aubrey's head hurt when she tried to figure out who was right. But that didn't matter right now, Aubrey needed to get home and tell them about the big man with the guns.
"Grrr…"
At first, Aubrey thought that it was her tummy rumbling. But she remembered that she ate a cookie not that long ago, so it couldn't be her tummy. Confused, she looked over her shoulder to see what was making that noise.
The instant that Praetor heard the scream, he was bolting in the direction it came from.
He burst through some shrubbery and fell feet first onto a road. Praetor didn't have to search far to find the source of the scream, as it was currently being chased up a tree. The source in question was a red-haired young girl, who was terrified out of her mind as she tried to scramble higher.
What was chasing her however was quite terrifying, even by his standards. It was an ink-black bear, not unlike the wolves before, though with much more mass. He didn't loiter as he snapped the rope connecting him to the cart and levelled Guardsman at the beast. A thundering crack rang out as he pulled the trigger, sending a slug shot right into the bear's mask. Coincidentally, said shot also sent the body connected to the mask flying into another tree.
The threat dealt with, Praetor hit the breach on Guardsman and a spent shell flew out of its slot. As the shell came down, he caught it with his off-hand and slotted a fresh one.
"Kid, come on down. It's dead." He called up.
"No!"
"Yes, it's dead. It's safe now."
"Go away!"
The child was quite stubborn and possibly still quite scared. Praetor was at a loss, he never had to deal with children back at the Tower.
"…I can't." Admitted Praetor. "I'm lost… but if you show me the way, I can get you home safely."
"…Really?"
"Yes."
"…Really, really?"
At this show of innocence, Praetor couldn't help but chuckle a little bit. "Yeah, really, really."
"…Ok." The little girl finally relented. Slowly climbing down from the tree, she gave him a quick, wary glance. Once she was on the ground she looked so tiny, so much so that even when he knelt down he still towered over her. With Guardsman slung over his back, he offered his hand to her.
The little girl hesitated, looking at him with wide yellow eyes. He almost flinched when he saw her hair twitch a little. A closer look revealed two little, furry ears atop her head that occasionally moved. After what seemed like an eternity, the little girl finally grasped his hand. Praetor rose to a stand slowly, letting the girl pull him along.
"It's this way." She quietly said, pulling at his larger hand. Praetor fell into step with her.
"…What's your name, little one?" Praetor asked after a while.
"…I'm Aubrey." She mumbled.
"Well, Aubrey, my name is Praetor. It's nice to meet you."
They continued in silence for a few minutes. Aubrey too scared to talk and Praetor unable to effectively socialise with children.
"Umm…" Aubrey began, struggling to find her voice. "…Are you here to get rid of the monsters, Mr Paetor?" she finally asked. That had given Praetor pause. He didn't want to disappoint the child, but he didn't want to needlessly lie to her, he doubted he could even correct her about his name.
"If they try to hurt anyone, then yes." He replied. That was true enough, he would have to kill the creatures that threaten people. It was his sworn duty after all. While he was musing, he almost missed little Aubrey draw closer to him and whisper.
"…Thank you."
The road to the village turned out to be quite short as they reached the wooden gates before either of them knew it. The walls were made of carved stone and curved around to where they met a cliff-face. The gate itself was on the crest of a hill, requiring travellers to reach it by a straight flight of stairs or a winding path for those in vehicles. Praetor had to admit, it was a wise defensive option. The weakest spot on the wall, the gate, being the easiest to defend. A pair of floodlights mounted on the high stone walls illuminated area, providing the night guards a clear view of the road.
The second they saw Aubrey, the guards scrambled, muffled orders sounded out and several guards took position above the gate. A small door on the gate opened and two people stepped through. A man and a woman, Aubrey's parents no doubt.
"Aubrey!" The woman called, her own auburn hair in frazzled tangles and tears staining her face as she rushed forward to her child. She had obviously been quite distraught over her missing daughter. Praetor didn't get a good look, but he swore that she had ears on her head like her child.
"Mummy!" exclaimed Aubrey, running ahead to her mother and father, leaving Praetor to slowly catch up. Praetor had seen this scene many times before. The City had many refugees and a lot knew each other. Sometimes there were people who broke down in the street, knowing that their friends and family never made it to the City. He was glad this was not one of those times.
Despite the touching reunion, the father had urged his family and Praetor inside. Aubrey's mother had taken to carrying her daughter, she probably did not trust the child to not run off again.
Inside the high walls lay the small village, home to anywhere between fifty to one-hundred families if the number of buildings were anything to go by. A third of the walled-off area was used as farm-land and was separated by a small river. The roads were paved with cobble-stones and were well lit due to the numerous lamp-posts dotted around. In the middle of the village was the town hall, noticeable bye its clock tower.
As Praetor was looking over the village, the father, a dark-haired man with a short beard, came up to him and gave a bow. On the man's back was a rifle, showing that he was likely a member of the guard. Similar to his daughter, he also possessed a pair of ears on his head and yellow irises.
"Thank you for keeping our daughter safe, Huntsman." The man straightened himself and held out his hand to shake. "I'm Blaine, my wife and I owe you a great debt. I don't want to think of what might have happened to Aubrey, had you not found her."
"Praetor and that is not necessary." Praetor protested, after shaking his hand. He would not correct the man on his status, he had gotten plenty of it from refugees at the City. "I'm just glad she made it home safely."
"I must insist," Blaine pushed. "It wouldn't be right if I didn't thank you properly."
"…Very well." Praetor relented with a sigh. "I don't have anywhere to be, nor do I need anything particular."
"Y'know what?" asked Blaine. "We can let you stay at our house for as long as you need."
"I do not wish to impose."
"It's no imposition, we have plenty of room for a big fella like you." Blaine flashed a smile. "Come on I'll even give you the whole tour tomorrow."
Blaine had been kind enough to let him keep his unneeded weapons in a locked cabinet in the tool shed if he wanted. While Praetor was putting away his things, Blaine and his family ate their dinner. Blaine had said he was welcome to join them but Praetor never liked to take advantage of people's hospitality.
Praetor also had to disassemble his hover-sled, the battery and hover-module were safely stored with The Coil and his Machine-gun in the cabinet, he had opted to keep Guardsman close as it had saved his life many a time before.
After he was certain that everything was settled, Praetor made his way into the home. The first thing that greeted him was a rush of warm air, courtesy of the living room fire place. The second was the smell of a home-cooked meal, the aroma almost made Praetor regret waving off Blaine's offer. Third came the warm and well-lit environment, complete with rustic and comfy-looking furniture. The family were in the adjoining kitchen, cleaning up from the sounds of it.
Upon hearing the door close, Blaine peeked out and quickly excused himself from his family, earning a half-hearted glare from his wife.
"Praetor, come on in." Blaine invited. Praetor nodded as he quickly shook snow off of his boots. "You sure you don't want anything? We got left-overs…" Blaine tried to bait him.
"No thanks, I'd just like to get some sleep, I'm running on fumes at the moment." Praetor admitted, he had no actual idea of when he slept last. He didn't remember falling asleep while mourning the Ghost or perhaps it was before he even accepted the mission.
"Oh, no problem, I'll show you the guest room." Blaine guided him to a flight of stairs and down a hallway. As they passed a few doors, Blaine told him what was behind them, Parent's room, Aubrey's room, bathroom, etc.
"…And this is the guest room." He announced, turning the handle and giving the door a slight push. The room itself was pretty sparse, with only a sturdy bed, a small wardrobe and a window. "It's not much, but I'm sure it will do."
"It's quite fine, thank you." Praetor assured. "If you will excuse me, I need some sleep." Blaine nodded, bid him a good night and left.
All at once, his exhaustion caught up with Praetor. He felt his arms and legs aches, his head burned with overuse and his eyes felt heavy. He couldn't even unsling Guardsman before he collapsed onto the bed, sleep enveloping him.
Downstairs, Blaine watched the News with concern while his wife, Scarlet tucked Aubrey into bed.
"The investigation into recent attacks on the Schnee Dust Company have been concluded, with the attacks believed to have been caused by the Faunus Rights Organisation, The White Fang." The reporter spoke. "Originally a peaceful group, The White Fang sought equality for all Faunus through protests, rallies and petitions. With these recent attacks however, favour with the organisation has plummeted.
"The White Fang has made no attempt to claim responsibility for these attacks nor has made any comment about them. Attempts at contacting The White Fang have so far, been met with silence. Eye witness reports identify several perpetrators bearing an altered version of The White Fang's logo." An image of a white wolf on a field of blue was shown next to a black wolf bearing three jagged marks on a white field. "If anyone has any information regarding the events, they are encouraged to contact their local police department. This is Lisa Lavender, Vale News."
As the news winded down, Blaine fell back into his seat, sighing and massaging his temples. At the same time Scarlet came back down.
"The White Fang is getting violent." Blaine muttered. "Hopefully, they'll be too tied up with Vale to worry about this little place."
Chapter 1 End
Hey guys, I'm back with another instalment. Sadly I fell short of my target by about 500 words, but I couldn't think of anything to stuff it further.
Hopefully you liked it and I have missed writing, and sorry, but I don't answer questions in the reviews.
If you have any critical feedback you'd like to leave, by all means, do so. It benefits us both.
Next time I'll try for a full 5k words.
So until next time, Bye!