To be honest, this chapter took some doing. Not only a difficult one to parse out but with school on top of it, you understand my extended absence. Rest assured, I don't plan on going anywhere until this story is finished. Just might take a while to do so.
Lust the Gunslinger VI
Rezyl let the silence sit for a few more moments. In it, he heard the engines of his ship hurtling through empty space and Kiara floating around at the ship's back. Nothing else. Not even his own breathing.
Then, Rezyl reached out towards his dashboard and pressed the command to replay. Before him, a small projection sprouts up, illuminating his face in dim blue light. Another few seconds passed and then the recording began to speak.
"We come to you today with breaking news from the former war front," the Awoken woman said, back upright and hands clasped together. "Though both the Battle of Twilight Gap and the Reef War are over and have been won in the name of Humanity and the Reefborn, tensions remain at an all-time high. Not between the Last City and the Devils, nor between the Reefborn and the Wolves but between Humanity and the Reefborn themselves. In a bid to eliminate a strategic Fallen target, an Awoken bombardment was conducted over the area scouting intelligence indicated this Fallen assassin had been hiding. A bombardment conducted…with three Guardian fireteams on the ground."
"These three fireteams consisted of eight Guardians. We come to you now because the search for survivors has been declared complete. By word of Commander Zavala, the statuses of the eight Guardians have been confirmed. Killed in action, with Ghost destruction."
The woman began reciting names from the datapad in front of her. Rezyl could feel himself drifting again until the names he had already heard a hundred times were said, snapping him painfully back to reality.
"And finally, the twin brothers, Ophis and Derratos, our seventh and eighth Guardians. Both men were risen, by Ghosts Corvus and Rain, in the land known in the Golden Age as the country of Greece. They are survived only by their third teammate, who had been deployed elsewhere, Rezyl Azzir."
The recording stopped. Rezyl waited for the ringing in his ears to die down. Then, he reached out and started the recording, again from the beginning.
"And finally, the twin brothers, Ophis and Derratos, our seventh and eighth Guardians. Both men were risen, by Ghosts Corvus and Rain, in the land known in the Golden Age as the country of Greece. They are survived only by their third teammate, who had been deployed elsewhere, Rezyl Azzir."
Stop. Rewind. Start.
"-are survived only by their third teammate, who had been deployed elsewhere, R-"
"Rezyl?"
He stopped the recording entirely. He never reacted well when someone else did. His eyes remained downward as Kiara slowly, gingerly floated into his vision. She was saying his name again. He barely recognized it, even after the amount of times he's heard it in the past day alone. He looked up towards her just as he felt the ship jolt. Space evened out around them and the Moon filled his vision as the ship slowed on approach.
Rezyl stood and started walking towards his vessel's armory to ready himself. A brace of knives around his waist, a belt of cartridges around his chest and down his legs. He picked Rose up last, gingerly, with reverence he had taught himself once he had learned who this gun had belonged to. His eyes caught his reflection in the shimmering silver metal and it was his eyes that stood out the most. Sleepless, cold, just a step above dead.
He holstered the gun and reached for his cloak, black and still tattered from the fighting. The Hellmouth was closer now, a gaping pit he could see from space. Bottomless but begging him to dive in anyway.
"Are you ready to hear more about our target?" He heard Kiara ask. Her voice was gentle, as if talking to a frightened wild dog. He was less annoyed that she used the tone than he was that she was right to do so.
"Go on," his rough voice responded with barely any thought from him.
"The bounty says-"
"Don't care about the bounty," he mumbled, "Just the location."
She looked at him and then, as if she couldn't read his mind, asked, "You don't want to turn this in?"
Rezyl only said again, "Don't care about the bounty."
Littering his inbox were unread messages. From Ikora Rey, from Jaren Ward, from assorted others. Offering their solace, their concern, their pity.
He wasn't here for the City. He wasn't here for the Tower or the Vanguard. He has seen none of those in the past few weeks. The only sort of insight he had into the City was the Consensus feed, looking in only to see what might be done in response to this act of murder. Demand reparations, perhaps.
He'd settle for unloading Rose between Petra Venj's eyes. And the Queen's, if she tried to interfere.
Regardless, he took orders from the City no longer. It wasn't their interests that had brought him here but Ophis'. Ophis and his investigation into mysterious disturbances recorded on the Moon. To remain unfinished forever if Rezyl hadn't chosen to step in.
It was obscure reasoning. Something that explained the "what", not the "why". Even Kiara didn't seem to understand why, after weeks of pretending the City and the Traveler did not exist, Rezyl decided to take on such a task.
She wondered, mostly to herself but in part to him, if he was trying in some small way to finish Ophis' affairs. The war had pulled them away from everything, as wars tend to do. Away from the jobs they had planned to complete, the leads they had planned to follow and finish. Professional ones, personal ones, even secret ones they'd only ever admit to while drunk and to each other. Like Derratos' two sons. Whether or not he could find them and bring them here. Whether or not he had it in him to be a father.
Part of Rezyl felt shame. These were their affairs. Revelations for them to have and answers they needed to be the ones to find.
But they couldn't anymore. It was only him now. It was only him.
Kiara pulled him from the ship and dropped him to the ground, a cloud of dust kicking up in his wake. He turned to watch his ship twist around in the air and go flying back where it had come, remaining until it disappeared into orbit.
Then, Rezyl turned back. What had once been a cavern in the side of a wall, the Hive had carved an entrance which Guardians had dubbed, "The Gatehouse", with beams cut from stone and braziers that held a heatless, fireless green glow.
Kiara tells him that it was their entrance deeper into the Moon's underground and Rezyl is hardly surprised. "Are you sure this is what you want?" She asked, more of that damnable pity in her voice. He began forward and she took that as her answer.
Rezyl crossed the threshold and stepped further into the Gatehouse. It was dark, with braziers overhead providing just enough light to cast the halls in shadow. He moved onwards until he came across a widened section. A chamber, opened on one side and facing the outside world. From there, Rezyl could see the top of the Hellmouth above and the still-endless pit below, its depths obscured by a bright green miasma. He moves on.
Directly adjacent was a second room, smaller and sealed from the outside. The same eerie green light illuminated the chamber and with it, Rezyl could see that it was empty. The only way forward was through a massive stone door and it was sealed shut.
Rezyl approached it anyway. Kiara appeared and got there before him, scanning it. "Sealed tight," she informed him, "But not as strong as it looks. You could maybe-"
The shiver that ran down Rezyl's spine made Kiara stop. Then, a blink of red on the radar.
Rose was in hand before the flash could disappear, Rezyl twisting and aiming it at…nothing.
"I saw that too," Kiara told him, having returned as soon as the radar had lit up.
Gun still aimed, he started back towards the center of the chamber, away from the door. The shadows jumped and danced in the light but Rezyl Azzir was no longer the kind to be easily spooked.
A minute passes of total silence. Rezyl's arm began to relax when he felt the same sensation again, stronger than before.
Rose switched hands. Rezyl aimed the gun behind him before the red could show on his radar and without even looking at what he was aiming at. When he did finally look, it took all his willpower not to unload.
At Rose's end was a Hive Wizard. Large and looming, she was wrapped in tattered robes and rattling bones. Some distinctly human.
She made no sound. Upon closer inspection, Rezyl could see that her eyes were closed. She kept her hands pressed together as if in prayer or a trance. Most importantly, she did not attack or make any move to get away from him, even with Rose a mere twitch away from opening her chest.
Rezyl never blinked but curiosity stayed his finger.
All three eyes suddenly popped open, giving off the same bright green that lit the chamber. She stared at him for a long time, unblinking and still unmoving.
"Rezyl Azzir…"
The sudden intrusion of her voice in his head nearly made him shoot. In that scratchy tone, Rezyl heard age, years beyond measure. He also heard anger. He heard pain. He heard cold grief hardened by time.
"You know my name?" He asked aloud, hoping it would get her out of his head.
It didn't. Rezyl felt that grief open up like an old wound. Like the phantom pain of a lost limb.
That is when she began to move. The Wizard approached him, stopping just centimeters before Rose's barrel. Slowly, one of her hands began to extend towards him. Rose jumps from her chest to her forehead but the Wizard does not stop. She extends a claw from her hand and runs it along the barrel of Rose. Rezyl's lip trembles and begins to curl.
"This weapon," she rasped within his mind, "I remember it well. I remember what it did. What it took from me."
As long as she still lived, there would always be more to take. Rezyl had learned that well by now.
"She's seen this gun…" Kiara said, "And she knows your name."
"You met Rezyl Azzir?" Rezyl asked, surprise making his arm lower just slightly.
The cold grief began to burn, as did her anger. "Rezyl Azzir," she spat the name like poison. "Everything. He took…everything."
Rezyl's eyes roved her face, searching in vain for any indication of deceit.
"Did he think of me?"
Rezyl's eyes narrowed. "What?"
"In his last moments. Did he think of me?"
Discomfort rolled off Kiara. "How could she possibly…"
"Did he ever come to realize the suffering he forced upon me?" Her arms spread. "Xyor. 'The Unwed', they call me."
"Kiara…"
"Searching…"
"He…" Rezyl read the words running across his visor. "He killed your mate," he read, "He came looking for you but it was your mate who challenged him."
Kiara scoffed slightly. "Play stupid games…"
Laughter bubbled within Rezyl II's throat. "Is that what this is about? Why you've been making so much noise? Your mate started a fight and Rezyl ended it." His grip readjusted on Rose and his shoulder rolled, loosening it. "You should have stayed in your hole."
Her eyes lowered until they locked onto his own. Her hands came back together and her eyes closed again. "No. No, he will never understand. He will never understand what I will feel for eons to come. He has been granted the peace of death. Death…" Her eyes snapped open, "With his last memory being of you."
The grip on Rose tightened. Rezyl could feel his throat locking up. "How…how-" His voice was shaking.
"Staring back at him with dead eyes. Cradling your head, just as I did my own beloved." She moved slightly closer. Rezyl took several steps back. "He smiled for you every day. He shed tears the day you were born."
Rezyl's head rang as if he had been struck. When Xyor moved closer again, he did not move back.
"He shed tears the day you died. Ashen face, once so full of color. Lifeless eyes that used to outshine the stars. They were his mother's eyes. They were his grandmother's eyes. Why must I see the light leave them again and again? Why must I? Why must I?"
Rezyl's shaking worsened. He wanted to pull his helmet off for fear he was going to be sick. Ringing in his ear mixed with the sounds of screaming, sobbing, explosions, laughter. The smell of burning flesh. The sight of a face blown half-off.
"Someone threw a bomb," Xyor said. Her voice lost that soft weepiness it had held, growing as jagged as a serrated blade. The words cut just as deep. "There wasn't enough left of his daughter to see."
Rezyl's gun hand began to fall, his other hand coming up to his twisting stomach.
Xyor watched him with pitiless eyes. Then, she cocked her head to the side. "Do you miss your mother, Rezyl Azzir?"
Rezyl launched himself at her. He collided head-first with…nothing. Empty space. Rezyl stumbled over his feet, fell and scrambled back up to turn around, Rose aimed.
Nothing. The chamber was empty again. He was alone.
Rezyl let Rose fall and clatter to the ground. He ripped off his helmet and heaved. He hadn't eaten in days, nothing but acid and bile spilled from his mouth onto the cold stone ground. He fell to his knees, coughing and struggling to take air into lungs that refused to relax.
When he had finally managed to take a breath, he brought his hand up to his eye and wiped away a hot tear. He stared down at the water on his fingers, rapidly cooling in the Lunar air. He began to tremble again. Not from old memories but from something equally terrible.
"Find. Her." He could barely recognize his own voice. He picked up Rose.
A figure moved in the shadows. Rezyl let loose a few shots on instinct but it was gone by the time he blinked.
Rezyl continued to search, eyes catching on every twitch of the shadows, every flicker of light, huffing through his clenched teeth like a wild animal. His shoulders were hunched. Rose was trembling with anticipation in his hand as the seconds ticked by.
"Found her."
Rezyl burst into a storm of violent screeching lightning. He twisted on his heel and charged at the sealed door on the far side of the chamber. Blades unsheathed, Rezyl began to spin as he glided over the ground. He moved faster and faster until he was nothing but a blur of steel and Light. He rammed into the door, sending chunks of red-hot stone flying into the air. The stone gave way. His knives broke in the process but he was through.
Xyor was there, just as Kiara said. Rezyl didn't care to stop and check to see if she was real, he received his answer when he rammed into her and connected with her chest. He kept going until he had her pinned against the wall, hitting her so hard, her chitin cracked. She screamed.
Before she could break away, Rezyl ripped two more knives from his brace and brought them down on her arms, going straight through the flesh and sinking into the stone beneath, all the way down to the hilt.
But something stops…
His chest was still heaving. "Why did you not attack me?" He asked, his two eyes boring into her three. She did not respond, letting out only wheezing gasps of pain.
His teeth clenched even harder. "Why do you not attack? Will you not defend yourself?"
Her gasps devolved into weak chuckles. "I am tired of fighting." Xyor spoke with her own voice this time, her bony mouth forming the words perfectly.
"Then why are you here?!" Rezyl sank the blades even deeper.
"I knew, one day, that Rezyl Azzir would know the pain I know. Learn the hate I have learned. I told him as much." Her eyes searched his uncovered, sweaty face. "Look where we are. Look at who has brought us here. A Human took away my beloved but you, Rezyl Azzir? Humanity stole your grandfather's Light. Humanity took your home. Humanity killed your family. They even killed you. Then, instead of leaving you to the peace of nothingness, the Traveler forces you back into the world of the living. Again and again and again. Now look where you are. Look at who is standing beside you."
Rezyl stared, unblinking.
"Where is Ophis, young Rezyl? Where is Derratos?"
"Keep their names out of your fucking mouth."
"You have no one now," she murmured. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Same as me."
"I am nothing like you," he seethed.
Xyor's eyes returned to his. "Grief can make monsters of us all, Rezyl Azzir. Grief…and desperation. When you learn what I have about your people's downfall, its true cause, you will understand."
Her head fell back against the rock. Her body deflated. "We are not alike because I am bound by blood-oaths and tithes but you…you have free will. Even if you did not have a choice, you returned with free will. You can be free. Free of the underserved loyalty that has brought you here."
Another wheezing gasp. "Your future is no longer a concern to me. I swore to see the same suffering, the same hatred in his heart. I will settle for seeing it in yours, as I do now."
Rezyl ripped the blades out of her arms and brought them down again, this time, in two of Xyor's eyes. The scream she released was so loud, he thought his ears might burst. Still, he dragged the blades upwards, reducing the third eye to a seeping, runny mess. "What do you see now, huh?!" He screamed back, "Tell me how much you see now! Tell me!"
A wave of force sent Rezyl hurtling backwards. He slammed into the stone, shattering the left half of his rib cage. Xyor rose into the air and began to float away, halting and slow, moaning all the while. He could tell she was making no true attempt to escape.
Before Kiara would finish weaving his bones back into place, Rezyl got to his feet. Light gathered in his hand, so hot and bright, the shadows of the tunnel were sent scurrying away from him. He brought up the flaming hand cannon towards her back.
He did not fire. Something made him stop. Something quieter than a whisper and completely incoherent but clear nonetheless.
The Golden Gun dissipated. Rezyl began to trudge forward, gaining on her, even at a walking speed. As soon as he was close enough, he broke into a run and tackled her to the ground, pinning her.
Her wheezing filled his ear. His own breathing was silent. His thundering heart, just as quiet. Far away, he thinks he heard Kiara's voice.
Xyor's gasping became mumbled words. "I told you, Rezyl Azzir," she whispered, over and over again. "I told you. I told you."
Solar Light gathered in his palm once again but did not take shape. He slammed his hand down against her back and the resulting howl reverberated throughout the Gatehouse. The stink of burning scales ravaged his nose but neither the sounds nor the smells worked to pierce his heart. The very first smell he could remember was burning human flesh. The first sounds, their screams. This was nothing.
This was deserved.
Rezyl dug in his fingers until he found purchase on a large piece of chitin. With a yell, he ripped it out. Then he did it again. Then, again. Then, the other hand joined in, tearing at and away Xyor's desiccated flesh like a cruel, ravenous animal.
She never stopped screaming. Rezyl could hear only a dull white noise permeating his ear but he could feel her wailing through his chest.
Was it quick for you, my friends? Did you suffer as well?
Did you see the eyes of your brother, empty and dead, before everything went quiet? Did you finally understand?
Blinding light suddenly flashed before his eyes, making him flinch and reel back. When clarity returned, his eyes focused onto Kiara, her eye clearing the fog from his head.
Rezyl's fingers were raw and likely bruised beneath his gloves. His eyes turned from his Ghost down to the Wizard still pinned beneath him. Her shrieking had finally stopped. He hadn't even noticed the silence. Her body, with its dried and withered flesh free of its chitin, stood stock-still.
"Enough, Rezyl." Kiara's voice seemed unsteady, as if something she had seen or heard had disturbed her. Rezyl couldn't imagine what. "We're done here," she told him quietly, turning away before he could speak.
His mouth closed. He looked down at Xyor again, face twisted in grotesque agony. Silent forever and yet, her words continued to echo in his mind. They grew louder as he stared at the body and at the mess that had been made.
Rezyl reached up to his shoulders and unfastened his cloak. Shrugging it off, he folded it, bent down and started sweeping the scales into it. The silent action seen within his mind had Kiara twisting around in astonishment. "What are you…"
Rezyl did not respond. He tied off the cloak's end before rising again. He stared at his Ghost wordlessly, cradling the makeshift sack against his torso.
His ship's interior appeared around him seconds later. Now avoiding his eyes, Kiara moved towards the controls, preparing the ship for departure. Rezyl went towards storage, gingerly placing the filled cloak in the most secure compartment before divesting himself of his weapons.
His eyes caught his reflection again. He had to blink to recognize his own face.
He could feel Kiara's eye on him again, her desire to speak up. She doesn't. Rezyl left her and continued deeper into his ship, intent on finding some part of it that was dark and quiet where he could close his eyes.
When the ship docked in the Tower's hangar, Rezyl remained still for a little while longer. He was in the cargo hold, on the floor, wrapped up in a second cloak. He wasn't sure why he was feeling cold.
He eventually shrugged out of it and with some difficulty, got to his feet. His head was still light, from both sleep and exhaustion. His dreams were filled with nothing but Xyor's pain, ear-splitting and reverberating throughout his entire body. Horrible nightmares but compared to his other dreams, of his team, his family, the woman he had failed, it was vastly preferable. If nothing else, at least he or someone he loved wasn't the one in pain.
The lights in the rest of the ship had been dimmed but Rezyl still felt the need to clench his eyes once he stepped from the hold. It further brightened when the ship's ramp lowered to let him out. Rezyl brought up his wrist, unwrapped a piece of red string and held it between his teeth while he pushed back his long hair, still having no plans to cut it. He tied it back and then threw a cloak around his shoulders, fastening it and bringing up his hood to hide his face. Recognition brought attention. Attention brought pity. Having a line of guns pointed at him had been preferable to their pity.
Grabbing the bag of chitin scales, Rezyl exited his ship, his face aimed at the ground. He walked out of the hangar and into the Tower proper for the first time in weeks. He was unsurprised by how relatively normal things had returned to being. Life moved on, even when one's world had been turned irreversibly upside down.
When he entered the plaza, he brought his hand up to shield himself from the sun, standing high over the Tower's head. Opposite of it was the City and above that, the Traveler. The awe he used to feel looking upon it had left him in his absence. The safety in its power, the gratitude for a second chance, all of it had soured until he was unable to look upon it without feeling anger well up within him. He didn't know how long he remained standing there.
This…thing who saw all the misery sewn and suffered in its defense and remained unmoved. It ripped him from death just to suffer the horrors of it over and over again and above all, it left him too weak to do anything about it when it truly mattered. Was there a lesson he was meant to learn? All he has been taught in this new life, this 'second chance' was that trying to change his circumstances only saw them worsen In life, there was only suffering. In Light, there was only despair.
In that moment and only for that moment, Rezyl felt the stab of emotion in his chest. The same kind that he felt when he thought of those bandits from his home village or of Petra Venj. Instantaneous but foul enough to curdle his stomach and freeze his blood. His hand squeezed the bag sitting at his waist even tighter. He felt warmth radiating from it.
"Rezyl?"
His grip tightened even more, became almost possessive. The warmth disappeared, as did his thoughts as the sound of his name and the voice saying it registered in his mind. Head lowered, Rezyl turned and out of the corner of his eye, saw the face of Jaren Ward, staring right back.
The old Hunter had become thinner since Rezyl had last seen him. Likely from his time scouting or fighting on the front lines. Jaren was no less solid, his eyes no less sturdy as he looked over Rezyl's gaunt, pale blue face, eyes and mouth gaping as if he could not believe the state of him.
Rezyl dispensed with the waiting by lowering his hood. Jaren took in a breath and ran a hand over his stubbled face, regarding him for some time longer.
Then, without warning, Jaren crossed the distance in two long strides. Before Rezyl could react, Jaren had him by the shoulders.
Rezyl was pulled into a crushing embrace, the air rushing from his lungs in an audible gasp. The arms wrapped around his back were a vice. Despite his discomfort, Rezyl's arms still came up. He returned the hug, pressing his face into Jaren's shoulder and doing his best to keep the water blurring his vision from spilling over.
After what seemed like an eternity and yet, not long enough, Jaren pulled away, keeping his hands on Rezyl's shoulders so he could look into his eyes. Jaren opened his mouth to speak. "How…" he started and then stopped. He closed his eyes and shook his head. "Kid…I can't imagine…"
Rezyl's hands went to fiddle with the strap around his shoulder. "It's fine," he mumbled.
"No. No, it's not," Jaren said, his brow furrowing. His hands left Rezyl's shoulders. "Hell, even I was torn up when I heard." The older man's face squeezed and just barely, Rezyl could see his curling lip tremble. "I tried to find you after the memorial."
Rezyl swallowed, his eyes lowering to his boots. "I left. I…I couldn't-"
"Hey." Jaren cut him off with a firm hand to his shoulder. "You don't have to explain a thing to me." The hand came down again. "I'm just glad you and Kiara are safe," he said, "We were worried about you."
"'We?'"
"Me, my Ghost. Ikora. Even Kieran and the boy back in Palamon."
Rezyl blinked. "Didn't know you spoke about me," he said, suddenly uncomfortable.
Jaren gave a small smile. "Only good things, I promise."
To his credit, Rezyl's lips managed a small twitch.
Jaren opened his mouth to speak again but then his eyes darted down and away. After a few seconds, they returned to Rezyl. "I've got a report I've got to get to the Vanguard. Urgent info. You'd do well to get some kind of rest."
His throat suddenly too thick to speak, Rezyl only nodded.
Jaren gestured with his head to the nearest elevator. "Head to your room. Take as much time as you need." His hand came up once more and this time, it cupped the side of Rezyl's head. "I'll find you in a few days, kid. Alright?"
Again, Rezyl said nothing. Only nodded. The hand pulls him into another embrace; shorter, less tight but no less warm. Then, Jaren Ward left him. Rezyl remained rooted to the spot until the Hunter's back disappeared into the Vanguard Hall. When it did, he pulled up his hood and continued on.
He passed a memorial dedicated to the fallen, names of Guardians and Ghosts inscribed.
Rezyl kept his eyes forward. Against his leg, the bag of chitin warmed again.
The door to Rezyl's quarters seals behind him, leaving him in the dark. He made his way through it, towards his room, eyes catching the shapes of things that were both his and not.
Kiara had barely spoken since they landed. Rezyl wanted to comment but decided against it. She was likely reading the thoughts going through his head; about the Traveler and the Light, about his resurrection. About her decision to resurrect him.
Xyor's words flit through every now and then, about humanity's role in his fate. She did not agree, of course she did not agree, she was better than him. But if she had a rebuttal, she would have made it. Her silence carried meaning.
Rezyl reached the bedroom and locked that door behind him as well, as if there were anyone here to bother him anymore. He stripped out of his armor, replacing it with cotton pants and a loose, wrinkled shirt that had been sitting on his floor for weeks.
By the time he sat down at his desk, only the bag of chitin remained on him, held in one hand. In the other was Rose.
He moved Rose to the center and held it up. His lamp bathed it in a dull orange light and still, it shined like precious gold.
Rezyl had no use for gold. This gun meant the world to him. The last connection he had to his family, even when every other memory had fled him. But when everything was on the line, the only thing Rezyl had seen from it was failure. All of that power within such a simple weapon and still, it could not serve when needed. Whenever Rezyl reached for it and felt the Light within its shard reach back, it would imbue him with feelings of safety and security he had never known. Now, whenever it reached out, Rezyl could do nothing but recoil away. Another lesson he had finally learned. He was a man too bound in the chains of duty and too weak to carry them. In Light, there was only weakness. What was he but living proof of that; wearing a better man's name to shield himself from the truth.
But even in the face of this realization, he couldn't help but wonder: what if things were different? He could not defend himself in his first life as he could now. He could grow strong. He could change and if he could…
He placed his palm over the gun's cool barrel and felt the Light extend forth. Instead of meeting it halfway, he pulled back his hand and went over to the bag of Xyor's scales. They had blackened even more somehow, lingering damage from exposure to Solar Light most likely.
"You want to graft them onto the gun?" Kiara's voice ripped him back to reality. She was in front of him. Her shell twsited around in confusion. "Why?"
Rezyl dipped his hand into the drawer and located adhesive. "A change," he said, "A warning."
"To who? The Hive?"
"Anyone who needs it." He opened the bag further and stuck his hand inside to run his fingers over the chitin. They were cool to the touch.
"Rezyl…" His name sounded like a plea when she said it. "I know you've been having…thoughts. About this…Petra Venj."
"Idle thoughts of a man in grief," he snapped, "At least let me have that."
His tone made her blink. "I understand," she murmured, "I'm just worried."
Rezyl pulled the first scale from the bag and uncapped the adhesive. "She's just one person. Under the command of another person. What she did, she did with a group of people, none of them bothering to so much as check the field…" He huffed out a bitter laugh. "Are…are you seeing the pattern, Kiara?"
She turned on him. "No. Those are Xyor's words."
"And that makes them lies?" His eyes bored into her.
She doesn't back down from his scrutiny. "You're entitled to your grief, Rezyl. That doesn't always make whatever you think while feeling it right."
Rezyl pressed the first scale to Rose, blocking out part of its silvery sheen.
'Xyor's words'. As if similar thoughts had never run through his mind. She had just given them a voice. Rezyl wondered if, in those final moments, his namesake felt the same things he was feeling now. If, in that instant before his breathing ceased one last time, he saw his entire life flash before his eyes. A life of bravery and sacrifice…and feel regret.
Against Ikora's and Jaren's wishes, Rezyl had still sought out information on his old settlement in the months leading up to the war. In the Tower records, he found something he had never been shown before; A request for an escort to the Last City. After bandits had destroyed Kiara I, it would only be a matter of time before they returned. The Guardian who lived there no longer had the power to protect his people. So resolved to move them to safety, behind City walls.
Help came too late. When he needed them the most, the people of the Tower, those he had called friends for well over a century, failed him. Uncountable years of service and the one time he was the one in need, they failed him. Ikora Rey failed him. Eriana-3 failed him. The Speaker, Saint-14, Lord Shaxx, Commander Zavala, every single Guardian who would not have a City to live in and hide behind if it weren't for him, failed him.
But none more so than the Traveler. It, more than any, left his grandfather to a fate he did not deserve. Just as it did Ophis and Derratos. How could his grandfather realize this and not feel…something?
Half of Rose's barrel was covered in black scales. Despite how little attention he was paying to where he placed them, the shapes seemed to blend in perfectly against each other and the metal beneath. They were warm again.
Maybe Rezyl I never had time to think, what with his grandson's bullet-riddled corpse being burned right before his eyes. Maybe he did think of it but never felt that regret. It wouldn't be a surprise. He had always been a stronger man than Rezyl could ever hope to be. Despite his Light, not because of it. Humanity wasn't worthy of him. The Traveler wasn't worthy of him.
In Light, there was only death. That was the lesson this life had been trying to teach him since the second time he took his first breath. If only he hadn't been such a stubborn student, maybe his life wouldn't be so mired by it.
'Few days time,' Jaren Ward had said. Rezyl would be gone before sunrise.
He reached out towards the nearby terminal and turned it on. The news recording was already set, left there from weeks ago. Rezyl let it play, setting the repeat so that it would just cycle over and over without interruption whenever he heard the names. He lost track of time but all of it, he spent grafting the chitin to Rose.
He remembered his final moments with them. Ophis' gentle hand on his shoulder. Derratos cuffing his neck, expecting a night of drinks on Rezyl's coin upon his return.
What he wouldn't give…
A single tear leaked from his eye and fell to his desk as he heard their names over and over again in his head, very clearly, even though the recording had stopped after several hours. He put his hand to his eye. When he brought the wet finger down, the fluid was pitch black.
He blinked and it was clear again. Xyor's words began to roll through his mind, breaking through the monotony he had lulled himself into. He restarted the recording in the hopes of drowning them out but they only mix and roll together, becoming something new and incomprehensible. This new voice said nothing and everything and he found it comforting. For once, he felt…safe.
The chitin was burning his fingers. Slowly, Derratos' and Ophis' faces retreated from the forefront of his mind. Not pushed out but sealed away. Somewhere safe. Somewhere just for him; for him to remember centuries down the line, when everyone else had forgotten. With that, for the first time in his life, he felt weightless. Unbound. Unmade.
Moonlight slips through a crack in his blinds and strikes the gun. The black scales drank it down greedily and within him, he could feel the weapon howling for more. He told Kiara to ready his ship.
"Rezyl…" She was desperate. She was pleading.
The faces of Jaren and Ikora flashed within her thoughts and before his eyes. They appear only for a second and within, he feels…nothing.
"That is not my name," he muttered, "It was never mine to take."
With both hands, he lifted the hand cannon, precious silver replaced by a deep, devouring black. Between the cracks, he could see some kind of faint glow, colored a bright, emerald green.
"It belonged to a better man."