AN: This chapter is not a combat oriented one, instead mostly dealing with the consequences of Mavriel's uniqueness. Mostly social stuff, really, but necessary for the plot.

Sora and I step into Commander Zavala's office, the doors hissing shut behind us. The room is quiet, save for the faint hum of a holographic monitor displaying a live feed of a strike operation somewhere on Nessus. Zavala stands behind his desk, leaning over it, his focus split between us and the video in front of him.

"Good work, Fireteam." He says into the monitor, his tone measured and firm. "Sweep the area for any more signs of Vex, and report back to the Tower for your rewards. Zavala out." With a flick of his wrist, the video feed vanishes into thin air, leaving only the soft glow of the remaining interface. He straightens and turns to greet us.

"Sora, Mavriel." His voice is steady, authoritative. "Take a seat."

Sora doesn't hesitate, dropping into a chair and sprawling sideways like she owns the place. One leg dangles lazily over the armrest, and her arms stretch wide in exaggerated comfort. I, on the other hand, settle into my chair in a far more reserved manner, arms crossed tightly over my chest.

"What can I do for you, Commander?" I ask.

Ikora steps forward from the shadows of the room, positioning herself behind Zavala. Her gaze fixes on me, sharp and unreadable. Zavala takes a slow breath, as though carefully weighing his words before speaking.

"Mavriel." he begins, his voice low and deliberate. "I'm going to be honest. Your abilities frighten me."

I blink, my brows lifting slightly. Well, that's definitely not what I was expecting.

Sora, of course, snickers in her seat.

Zavala ignores her, his gaze locked on me. "From the day you first showed up on our radar, taking on an operation that should have necessitated a full raid team, we've kept a close eye on your activities."

I don't flinch under his scrutiny, my expression remaining carefully neutral.

"Your skill with the Light has grown exponentially." Zavala presses on, his tone heavy with meaning. "Much faster than even Sora, a known outlier."

Behind him, Ikora crosses her arms, her eyes narrowing like she's studying every micro-expression on my face.

I stay quiet for a beat, meeting Zavala's gaze without wavering. Then, I lean back just slightly, my voice calm and measured. "I'm sure you didn't call me here to hype me up."

Zavala's expression hardens slightly, but it's Ikora who speaks next. "We're aware of the conversation you had earlier in the armory."

Sora bolts upright, pointing an accusing finger at the two of them. "So you were spying on us!"

Ikora arches a brow, unimpressed. "Of course we were. Someone of Mavriel's capabilities, showing up and outclassing Guardians centuries his senior in such a short time? We'd be fools not to approach the situation with caution."

I frown, irritation prickling at the back of my mind. "So you're upset I withheld some of my abilities. Need I remind you I'm only a partner with the Vanguard? I'm not one of your soldiers. I'm under no obligation to share anything beyond my enchantments."

Zavala's frown deepens, his gaze firm as ever. "I'm not sure you understand. Your abilities mimic, and even exceed the Speaker's. With his unique ability to interpret the will of the Traveler, he possessed a level of political legitimacy that kept the Consensus in balance, with no one Faction overstepping their bounds. Since the end of the Red War, leadership of the Consensus has fallen to me, and I do not have that same gift." He exhales sharply, his shoulders tense. "And now, when the City most needs a Speaker, you arrive."

I narrow my eyes. "You just said I scare you, and now… you want me to replace the Speaker?" My tone sharpens. "I could be lying about my ability to speak to the Traveler for all you know."

"Are you?" Ikora asks.

I meet her eyes for a long moment, then exhale. "…No. I read the Traveler's emotions, and it does listen to me in turn." Trying to lie to Ikora would be pointless.

Ikora nods, as if she expected that answer. "Your varied abilities suggest a much closer connection to the Traveler than any Guardian before you. Many scholars hypothesized that if a Speaker were to be resurrected by a Ghost, their gift would be magnified by the intimate connection to the Light."

I glance between the two of them. If that's what they believe, I'm not going to try to convince them otherwise. I lean back, shaking my head. "So I can speak to the Traveler. Big whoop. That doesn't mean I should lead the Consensus."

"I agree." Zavala says, catching me off guard.

"Then what do you want from me?" I ask, my patience starting to fray.

"If we were to announce that a new Speaker has been found, and if you were to publicly prove your abilities while supporting my leadership, the shift in public support would likely prevent any chance of the Faction Wars reigniting." Zavala explains.

Politics. I'm ready to flat-out refuse him, but my eyes flick toward the window. The Traveler looms outside, and my eyes read its emotions like a book. It agrees with him.

My focus narrows on the Traveler, my lips pulling into a thin line. "You can't be serious."

Zavala opens his mouth to respond, but Ikora notices it first. Her hand rises to Zavala's arm, halting him as she realizes; I'm not speaking to them.

The Traveler's emotions shift to pleading. It wishes to avoid its favored people spilling each other's blood pointlessly.

"Look." I say, my voice low and sharp, directed somewhere far beyond this room. "I'm willing to help you out, but I draw the line at becoming some prophet for you. I have goals, dreams, and they don't revolve around spending everyday trapped in the City, preaching and politicking."

The Traveler's emotions shift again, this time more insistent, almost mournful. It's begging, desperate for me to agree.

Frustration boils over, and I run a hand through my hair, letting out a harsh sigh. "God, I must look like a lunatic." I mutter under my breath. I can feel Zavala and Ikora watching me, their confusion prickling at the edge of my focus.

I close my eyes for a moment, but even still I see the Traveler's emotions. They flood through my mind, hopeful and urging, like a tide I can't fully push back. "…I'm not abandoning my own ambitions just because you want me to." I say finally, my voice quiet.

The Traveler's presence settles, its pleading fading to something gentler, more patient. I can feel it relent, just slightly, as if asking for a compromise.

I exhale heavily, my shoulders sagging. "…I suppose I could occasionally act as a mouthpiece. Occasionally." I stress, opening my eyes and glaring at the Traveler through the window. "If I do this, then when the time comes, you will make it clear I speak for you."

The Traveler radiates something like joyful agreement.

I lean back in my chair, finally breaking my gaze away. I catch Sora's smirk out of the corner of my eye. "Well…" she says, her voice light and teasing, "Looks like somebody's whipped.~"

My left eyebrow twitches. "And it sounds like somebody thinks they can go without any more enchanted weapons."

Genuine panic flashes across Sora's face. She throws herself in front of me, grabbing my shoulders and shaking me slightly in her desperation. "You know I was kidding, right?! You're a powerful Wizard and we're all lucky to have you!"

"You're damn right I am."

"Ahem." Zavala grabs our attention, and Sora blushes as she realizes she did that in front of them, returning to her seat. "How often would we be capable of relying on you?"

I take a moment to accelerate my thoughts, running through my responsibilities along with all my half formed plans for the future. "How often does the Consensus meet?"

"The Factions each come together on the first of every month, but emergency sessions have been called in the past during times of crisis. The Taken War was a particularly busy time for the former Speaker, for example."

I frown. "I've been trying to find a way to automate my enchanting process, or at the very least make it so that others can fuel the ritual, but it relies on specialized energy to function. There are several rare materials that I believe could be used to fuel my ritual, but I haven't had access to them. If I got you a list, could you have them acquired for me to test with?"

Zavala nods. "Assuming nothing is too rare, it should be simple enough."

"If even one of those materials functions as the fuel I need, I should be able to teach the enhancement ritual to others, allowing me to divorce myself entirely from the process. I'd still be necessary for any exotic weapons, but most should be able to track me down in my off time for quotes on those. If Guardians can find Xûr, they can find me."

"And since we're revealing all my secrets today anyway…" I let the words hang in the air for a moment, feeling every set of eyes on me. "My student, Crow."

Sora perks up, genuine curiosity lighting her features. "Can he chat with the big guy too?"

"No." I say, shaking my head. "I've seen no evidence he can. I don't need to explain to you how Guardians can be wildly different from the person they were before their resurrection, yes?"

Zavala nods slowly, his expression unreadable.

"Might as well rip the bandage off." I mutter under my breath, before saying it outright. "Crow's former identity was Prince Uldren Sov."

The silence that follows is suffocating. It stretches on for what feels like an eternity, though it's probably less than a minute. No one moves, no one breathes. I watch as each of them processes what I've just said.

Zavala's jaw tightens, the grief and anger unmistakable behind his stoic mask. Ikora's expression wavers, cracks forming in her composure. Her lips part like she wants to speak, but no words come out.

And then there's Sora. I don't miss the flicker of pity in her eyes. Pity. I wasn't expecting that.

Sora is the first to break the silence. She exhales sharply, her voice quieter than usual. "So that's why you haven't brought him to the Tower."

I nod. "He knows what Uldren did. And even though he's a separate person, he still feels guilty over Uldren's actions. Before the Traveler led me to him, he'd had several encounters with Guardians out in the field. Most of them ended the same way: with him dead."

Zavala closes his eyes briefly, as if pained, but I keep going. "He didn't even know why they were killing him until I told him. He's a good kid. Probably one of the most morally just people I've ever met, and I was hoping you could help smooth things over for him. Ensure he doesn't have to hide his face."

Zavala opens his eyes, the grief and tension still etched into his expression. When he speaks, his voice is grave, deliberate. "We'll have to see." He says finally. "Cayde's death is still fresh for many of us. We might be able to stop the violence, but the animosity-" He pauses, as though choosing his words carefully. "-it will not fade quickly."

I shift my focus to Sora, watching her carefully. "What do you think?"

She doesn't answer immediately. Her carefree demeanor is gone, replaced by something somber and thoughtful. She pulls her legs up in front of her, arms draped loosely over her knees, staring down at the floor.

"I got my revenge on Uldren months ago." She says softly. "I'm not arrogant enough to claim I wouldn't have shot Crow on sight before this conversation, but…" She looks up at me, her gaze serious. "I'd have known he wasn't Uldren. It might take me time to get used to him, but I'll manage. I can chaperone him for a while, help smooth things over. Ada doesn't have me working on anything time-sensitive right now anyways."

It's more than I expected, and I nod in gratitude.

Zavala grunts softly, then turns to Ikora. "Ikora. Your thoughts?"

Ikora doesn't answer right away. There's a heaviness in her expression, grief she hasn't fully buried lingering in the lines of her face. When she finally speaks, her voice is level, but there's something bitter under the surface.

"The Traveler can be cruel." She says quietly. "But it would not be right to lay Uldren's sins at Crow's feet." She pauses, inhaling deeply before adding, "I will regard him with civility. But I cannot promise more than that."

It'll have to do.

I push myself up from my seat, the scrape of my boots against the floor breaking the silence. Sora mirrors me, standing as well, her usual confidence returning in her posture. "I suppose I should be happy you're at least willing to try." I say, letting a hint of tiredness creep into my voice. I glance over at Sora. "I need to pick up this week's Armsday orders, but after that, I'll go tell Crow the news. Sora, would you like to meet him first?"

She gives a short nod. "I think that might be for the best." Her arms cross over her chest as she tilts her head slightly. "Did you tell him I was the one who… y'know…"

"Killed Uldren?" I shake my head, watching her carefully. "Not you specifically, but he's a smart lad. You'd do well to tell him yourself before he puts the pieces together. Hypocritical as it is for me to say this, the world would be a much nicer place if people stopped keeping secrets like that."

Sora chuckles faintly, a dry humor undercutting her voice. "Yeah." She turns her gaze back to Zavala and Ikora. "We done here?"

Zavala nods, his deep voice rumbling with finality. "The next Consensus meeting is in six days. Will you be ready for it?"

"Ready as I can be for something so far out of my wheelhouse." I reply, not quite hiding the hint of exasperation in my tone.

Satisfied that the conversation has ended, I raise my right hand and pull Void Light to my fingertips, gathering it like the edge of a sheet. The energy hums between my pinched fingers, light bending and warping in a slow, deliberate twirl as I sweep it around both me and Sora. The Tower melts away as we are swallowed by the Void, and then-

We're standing in the armory.

"Showoff." Sora mutters, the corner of her mouth twitching into a smirk.

I arrive at my EDZ campsite after the sun has set, embers rising from a campfire Crow has set up. The quiet hum of the wind through the trees serves as the only backdrop to our conversation. Crow sits across from me, a battered scout rifle balanced across his knees as he idly adjusts a loose scope. He's always fidgeting with something when he's anxious.

{Met 'Ikora Rey' +50 points
Became a Part-time Prophet +100 points
Revealed Crow's past to the Vanguard +100 points

Rolling…

Illusion - Padded Clothes - Touhou Luna Nights (100 points)

Roll Success. Current stockpile: 350 Points.

Purchase Padded Clothes?}

Padded Clothes

You can hide an effectively unlimited supply of anything smaller than a chainsaw or sword in your clothing. Somehow. This will not affect your movement or even weight even when you're carrying a hundred or more knives on your person.

Spectre does have the capability to store large amounts of things in her inventory, but it's not unlimited. Using this perk, I could keep most of my weapons on my person and pull them out in ways that confuse people, further adding to the mysterious wizard aesthetic I wish to cultivate.

Yoink.

"I have news." I say, finally breaking the stillness.

Crow pauses mid-adjustment, his hands hovering over the loose scope. His gaze flicks up to mine, cautious. "Good news or bad?"

"Mostly good." I shift slightly, letting my weight settle back against the crate. "You'll be able to visit the City."

The light from the fire dances in his eyes as he processes the words. I can see the flicker of excitement there; real, genuine happiness; but it's buried beneath the anxiety I've come to recognize so well. He shifts slightly, as though wary to believe it. "Really?"

"Really." I nod. "Zavala and Ikora are willing to help keep things under control, but there's more." I cross my arms and regard him carefully. "I have a friend of mine who volunteered to chaperone you for a week, smoothing over any problems. She's got a lot of pull in the City, so between her and the Vanguard Commander, I'm hopeful things will stay civil."

Crow's brows lift in surprise, and then his shoulders relax slightly. He studies me for a moment, searching my face for any hint of doubt before giving a small, determined nod. "Well, if you trust her, I will too."

God, it's nice to have such a loyal student.

About an hour later, the distinct roar of a ship's engines breaks through the peace of the camp. The Queen of Hearts slices through the clouds above, its frame shining faintly in the growing moonlight. Crow and I stand, the sudden gust of wind whipping at our clothes as the ship lowers itself just above the clearing.

The transmat activates, a shimmering flash of light depositing Sora onto the ground in an instant. The moment she solidifies, her hands are already on her hips, her head tilting slightly as she surveys the camp. Her ship hums back into orbit behind her, leaving nothing but dust and the faint scent of exhaust in its wake.

Crow shifts beside me, straightening, though a little too stiffly. He's trying not to look nervous, but I know him too well.

Sora's gaze lands on me first. "Mavriel." She says, with that casual tone of hers. Her eyes flick to Crow, narrowing ever so slightly in silent appraisal, though her expression remains neutral. "And you must be Crow."

Crow inclines his head, his voice steady and polite. "I am. It's good to meet you."

Sora raises an eyebrow at me, then turns back to him with an amused quirk of her lips. "Polite." She notes, as though it's an unexpected find. She steps forward, slow and deliberate, circling Crow like a hawk inspecting its prey. "You're quieter than I expected. Not that I'm complaining."

Crow stands his ground, though I notice the way his shoulders tense slightly under her scrutiny. "Haven't had many opportunities to be social out in the wilds."

Sora stops in front of him, arms still crossed, and a crooked smile pulls at the corner of her mouth. "Relax, kid. I won't bite." Her words are teasing, but there's a layer beneath it I can't quite place. "Name's Sora."

There's a beat of silence, Sora watching him, trying to figure him out. I can see the calculation in her eyes, the way she's weighing her assumptions against what's in front of her. She's guarded, but she's curious too. "Did Mavriel tell you why I'm here?"

"He said you volunteered to help smooth things over," Crow replies. There's something so genuine in his voice, hopeful, that I think it catches Sora off guard. "It means a lot to me. I know… not everyone is going to accept me."

Sora blinks, her teasing demeanor faltering for just a moment. She shifts her stance, brushing a hand through her hair like she doesn't know what to do with his honesty. "Yeah, well." She mutters, voice quieter now. "You're not wrong. But you're also not what I expected."

Crow tilts his head slightly, curiosity surfacing now. "What did you expect?"

Sora huffs a quiet laugh, softer this time, as though some of her edges are already starting to wear down. "Not you, that's for sure. I guess I thought-" She stops, waving a hand dismissively. "Never mind. Doesn't matter. You're… surprisingly normal."

Crow's lips twitch into the faintest of smiles. "Normal? I think that's the nicest thing a Guardian's called me in a while."

That earns him a proper chuckle from Sora, the first real crack in her armor since she landed. The tension in her posture eases, even if she tries to play it off with a shrug. "I mean, you're not as weird as most Guardians. With Mav teaching you, I would've thought his ego would've spread like a fungus."

Crow frowns. "He's not that bad."

Sora raises an eyebrow at me over her shoulder, as if to say, Is he for real? I just shrug, watching as the two of them slowly settle into a tentative rhythm. She might not say it out loud, but I can already tell she understands what I've known for a while now: Crow isn't Uldren Sov. Not by a long shot.

"Come on." Sora says finally, turning and motioning for Crow to follow her toward the edge of camp. "If you're gonna survive a week in the City, you're gonna need a crash course in Guardian social etiquette."

Crow falls into step beside her. "Which means?"

"Means don't say anything stupid, don't touch anything you shouldn't, and keep up that polite act of yours." Sora glances at him sideways. "Do you know how to dance?"

Crow blinks. "Dance?" He lets out a nervous laugh. "I don't think so. I've… never tried. Is it important?"

"Very." Sora answers. "I'll add that to the list..."

Their voices grow fainter as they disappear into the twilight. I exhale slowly, leaning back against the crate and watching the fire burn down to embers. My worry hasn't vanished entirely, how could it, but it's smaller now.

I shake myself from my thoughts, shifting focus to the magic in my blood I've been ignoring for the past day. DnD Sorcery is supposed to be mostly instinctive, right? Let's see how quickly I can figure it out.

CHAPTER 15 END

AN: Mavriel doesn't want to end up as an NPC trapped in the City forever, but he can't avoid the Traveler's wishes entirely. I want this story to actually go places, so I'll be having him figure out a way to power the ritual with local materials, allowing it to be taught to others. That should let him avoid having to show up personally for Armsday, trading it instead for a once a month visit to the City to act as Speaker 2.0.

Rolls this chapter were pretty average. Nothing too crazy he missed out on.