Redacted
As A Prisoner
Updated on time! And in the afternoon! A miracle! Anyways, thanks to DisobeyedBowl6, Guest, and TheTurtleMan for the reviews! :D
Guest - Yes, that will be brought up but not until near the end of this book. The reason will be revealed then lol. And glad you enjoyed the amputation part, wasn't sure if it was going to make an impact really lol. Thanks!
TheTurtleMan - It's fine, the only reason I'm concerned for guest accounts is for the reason that I won't be able to respond until next update, which usually means a week for an answer. Which, isn't a short amount of time lol. And yes, I have read the book of sorrows plus also watched videos of other players interpretations of it as well. Really enjoyed it and as such, really miffed that majority of the lore isn't going to be viable in Destiny 2. I'm just hoping Bungie makes up for it by revealing to us amazing lore. And yes, I played the beta! really enjoyed it, loved what they did to the classes (especially Arcstrider, Sentinel, and Voidwalker - sorry Dawnblade, not you -coughs-). Thank you!
Edited: 12/18/2022
This chapter was tired 'So Tired' in my files but after editing and omitting parts that didn't fit with the flow, I realized that the title didn't fit. So, I changed it :D
When he awoke, Angel's body felt heavy, and it ached to the point where he couldn't suppress a moan.
"Pure One?"
Angel lifted his head subtly, just enough to leave the cool back his cheek was pressed against. He tried opening his eyes, but they felt heavy, and, in the end, he lowered his face back. This time however, he took notice of arms under his legs, his chest pressing against the back of the one below him, and his arms draped over shoulders. Whoever is carrying him, their back is cool, easing the heat of his body, and he could hear them rumble, purring as the vibrations eased the aches.
That is when a song lingered into his ears, soft and gentle, and Angel couldn't help a whimper as recognition settled in.
"Salziks?" He muttered as he lifted his head once more and this time, mustering as much strength as he could, Angel opened his eyes.
He expected the Captain to be staring back, her compassionate eyes, glowing white in comparison to blue, smiling back at him before she would continue her song. A song for hatchlings that she had lost over centuries.
"You are awake."
Angel blinked, the blurred edges of his vision fading just enough to pinpoint the face of Flourishing One, her glowing blue eyes prominent against the dark. He couldn't help but be disappointed, sad even. Had he been hallucinating? But Angel had sworn he had heard someone else. Someone else he misses dearly.
"I first thought I was carrying a corpse." The Vandal beneath him continued, Angel hearing her rumble as she carefully walked through the dark; a call to the Eliksni balance.
"What?" Angel found himself saying, unable to fully comprehend her words at first before dizziness set in. He pressed his forehead against the back of her neck and groaned. In turn, Flourishing One scoffed.
"You lost a lot of your life blood, bandit." He heard her say, "You left a substantial amount when I carried you."
As he contemplated on how to thank her later, Angel then said, "Why did you not leave me?" He lifted his head, ignoring the queasy sensation in the pit of his stomach, "If you carry me like this, I will just slow you down. The Darken Ones will catch us."
"And?" The Vandal snarled, "You saved my life." She released a harsh breath, "By the Great Machine, I may hate you bandits, but my House still holds a code of Honor." A huff, "I owe you a debt. It is only fair that I return it."
Taking in her words, Angel squinted in the dark, realization finally setting in.
"You are of House Kings then?"
A wheezing sound could be heard from Flourishing One; Angel recognizes it as a chuckle, "Who else would I be? The faded Wolves? The broken Devils? The cowardly Winter?" Angel can feel her shift underneath him, more likely gloating, "There is no better than the Kings."
Angel couldn't help but give her a blank look, "Certainly, you are part of House of Kings."
"What is that supposed to mean, bandit?"
"Nothing."
Hearing her huff, Angel decided to leave it and instead, decided to wrap his arms around the Eliksni's front to give himself better leverage. Or, at least one arm.
Spotting the stump of what was his right arm, he couldn't help but flinch at bloody remains of his cloak wrapped around it, tied taut to stem the worse of the bleeding. No doubt Flourishing One's work but, his chest panged at the sight of the symbol of House Spirits colored red, the angelic mark now dirtied from his blood and dirt.
"That symbol on your cape." Flourishing One must have caught him staring, "I have never seen that mark before, even upon the capes of other bandits." He heard her rumble, curious, "What does it mean?"
Shifting in her arms, Angel pondered upon an answer, if he should be forward. And then answered, "It is the mark of my family."
A scoff, "Family? What bandit has a family when they naught remember their own names?"
Despite himself, Angel chuckled, "So the Kings do more than just hiding?"
"We are not like those fools who wander into enemy territory." Flourishing One snarled, "We hide in the shadows, watch, gain information, seek the weaknesses of our enemies, and then, we strike."
Angel hummed at her words, "That is not what my family tells me." He contemplated once more if he should be honest. Especially since right now, she has full advantage. "They tell me you are cowards, letting others of their kind die and do nothing but watch."
"Others of their…" The Vandal's words came to a sudden halt, and Angel waited for her realization to set in, "You are referring to those House Devils as your family?"
"A group of deserters." Angel corrected, recalling the faded capes, tattered but still held the familiar symbol of the House. Then he smiled, "You now believe that they took care of me, Flourishing One?"
"I thought you crazy." The Vandal retorted, "But then I remember that almost none of your kind knows the full extent of the Eliksni tongue." He heard her snarl low, "The only reason you would know of our tongue well is to believe your blasphemous story."
Chuckling, Angel then released a breath, leaning his head back against the back of Flourishing One's neck, "Unlike those who lived upon the second planet, they were not hostile to me, and took me in when I came to them injured." He closed his eyes, recalling curious looks, gentle hands as they took his into theirs, comforting smiles that made his fears fade away, "They were the ones who informed me of the reputation your House holds."
At first, Angel thought she would be upset, angry even, but when he heard her release a wheezing laugh, he opened his eyes and lifted his head, confused.
"Although distasteful of your words, I cannot deny that my House is not highly favored by the others." Angel heard Flourishing One admit. Then he heard her scoff, "One of the reasons why my House hides."
"Not for the reason of the assassination of your Barons?" Angel asked before he could realize what he is saying, and he bit the inside of his cheek. He truly needs to take Pluto's advice on to stop and think before asking.
Fortunately, judging from the way Flourishing One simply huffed, she didn't seem too bothered, "You have heard of the treachery between House Kings and Wolves?"
"And how a Guardian came and killed everyone present." Angel finished; he heard her growl under her breath, "Your house rarely shows themselves and when you did, two of your Barons are lost." He remembers hearing the news. Although he knows is of great news to the Tower, Angel himself didn't celebrate. "A crippling blow."
"And we never recovered." Flourishing One muttered, Angel feeling her shift her upper arms and felt her hands grip his legs tight, "It may have happened not long ago, but electing a Baron is no easy feat." She huffed once more, "Certain qualities are required to attain the rank of Baron within our House. It is not simple."
Humming at her words, Angel leaned in, "I am to guess that you are seeking the rank of Baron, Flourishing One?"
That is when she went quiet, with nothing but the Vandal's footsteps echoing through the dark, and Angel took that as a yes, especially when he heard Flourishing One hum softly. Unable to help a small smile, Angel decided to say nothing, to let her linger over pleasant thoughts and dreams. As such, leaning his head back against Flourishing One's, his thoughts wandered, and Hope came to the front.
Out of habit and instinct, Angel reach within himself, searching until he found the steady beat of his Ghost's light. That means she is still alive, which is good news. Now he just needs to get out of here and find her. He hopes that she is with the others by now.
Taking in a deep breath and releasing it harshly, Angel decided best to not linger over his Ghost. He has a bad habit of imagining worse case scenarios. As such, as his mind wandered once more, familiar soft rumbles echoed in his ears and the familiar face of Salziks faded into memory.
Angel remembers her songs, her quiet hums, back when he was recovering under her care. He still remembers the nights when the pain would be too much, too restless to properly rest, he and Hope's bond too new for her to do anything, and Salziks would carry him – either upon her back or in her arms. Then, she would sing, rocking him until he would finally fall into slumber.
"What song are you singing, bandit?" Angel jolted out of his thoughts, Flourishing One's voice loud against it, "I heard many lullabies, songs of war and victory, songs of lore, and I have yet to hear a song such as the one you are singing now."
Angel blinked. Had he been singing the song aloud? Judging from the way the Vandal glanced over her shoulder at him, he was. Ducking his head, heat rising to his cheeks, Angel cleared his throat as he pondered upon an answer to her question.
Of course, she wouldn't know. It was a song that Salziks sang to tell her story of lost hatchlings, of her grief. And her yearning for peace. He doubts that there are many songs like that amongst the Eliksni. At least, not now.
"It was a song sang to me by my dame." He finally answered, recalling the way Salziks would coo and rumble at him whenever he would visit, giving him encouraging words when he had feared wandering too far from camp. If only misfortune never befallen her hatchlings, "She sang it to me when I was recovering from a crashed ship."
An understatement, considering that he barely made if off Venus after a brush with death against the House of Winter, and with his injuries, he couldn't properly land the ship. He was fortunate that Salziks and her pack were the ones who had found him.
"In Eliksni tongue?" Angel heard the doubt in Flourishing One's voice, "Wait, are you referring to one of those Devil deserters?"
Angel nodded against her neck, and he released a breath. Damn, he misses her.
That is when he heard the Vandal click her mandibles.
"What is her name?" Her voice held legitimate curiosity, "It is not uncommon for Eliksni to change Houses. Perhaps I have heard of her."
Angel pondered upon her words.
True, he had met a handful of Eliksni who had changed allegiances, out of convenience or survival, and considering Salziks' age, he wouldn't be surprised if she had done the same.
"She is called Salziks the Mournful." Angel answered, recalling times when he caught her grieving, crying over piles of stones, whispering the name of hatchlings that had not lived past their first year, "She is called thus for the reason that any hatchlings that she conceives are dead within a year." For many reasons but, mainly they would be found, helpless, and when Salziks is away scavenging. Their numbers had always been too small to have proper security. And misfortune always seem to befall her, "She is the one who taught me how to fight."
And that is not a lie.
Salziks was the one who had taught him how to wield a knife, on how to properly grip it so when slashing or stabbing, he wouldn't lose it and leave himself defenseless. The worry in her eyes during their lessons made it clear that she is concerned for his safety.
"That the reason you call her your dame?"
Flourishing One's question made Angel pause, contemplating.
True, he has memories of his first life, fogs of memory where he recalls his mother, the emotions, the connection he had made. But he couldn't recall it back then, back when he was under Salziks' care. She had taken the role of the mother that he had forgotten. And who says that he couldn't have more than one?
"One of the reasons." Angel finally answered and he heard Flourishing One chuff under him, "She taught me many things." He smiled sheepishly, "Mostly how to survive."
"A smart decision, considering the present." The Vandal said, "Where is she now? Did you abandon her?"
If Angel wasn't so tired, so weak, he would have retorted, perhaps even give Flourishing One a soft swat at the back of the head for even insinuating abandonment. But instead, Angel is silent, once again contemplating on answering with either a truth or a vague answer.
"She died." Angel finally decided upon, flashes swirling within his mind as the sound of a sniper rang in his ears, her body twisting and falling upon the hearth, "Killed by 'bandits'."
There was a reason why he delayed his trip to the City.
Angel heard Flourishing One go quiet, her steps once again the only sound echoing through the tunnel.
"Did you find them?" She finally broke the silence, "The bandits that took her away?"
Her words were barely a whisper, one filled with sympathy and Angel lingered, recalling excited chatter, celebration of a patrol, laughter as three Guardians came to mind.
"Yes, I did."
"Did you kill them?"
Angel paused once more, furrowing his brows as he shifted through his memory, recalling gunfire, the smell of burned powder, and the vision of red.
His throat went tight.
"No. I did not."
The words burned as it left his tongue, shame settling into his senses, made worse when Flourishing One scoffed.
"You see her as your dame but yet, you did not take vengeance for her death?"
Angel couldn't help but scowl, "She is – was a gentle soul." He remembers rumbles, soft words that were too kind for any Eliksni, for any human. For any living being, "Salziks taught compassion, taught empathy. And forgiveness."
"Compassion? Empathy? Forgiveness?" Angel found himself being offended at Flourishing One's tone, "You cannot be 'soft', not in our present." The Vandal scoffed, "For showing mercy, to you and the killers of her hatchlings, it is no wonder that this Salziks is not only unable to protect herself, but her brood as well."
Taking in her words, a tingle ran down the length of Angel's spine and, before he could even realize, he reached over with his good arm, hooked it around Flourishing One's neck. And tugged.
Flourishing One let out a squeak, a short, startled cry as she fell back, and Angel felt his back collide onto the hearth beneath him. He felt the air leave his lungs, his mouth falling agape for breath, but nonetheless, he shifts his legs so that his knees were pressed against the Vandal's back and shoved her away. Seeing her land upon her chest, Angel scrambled to his fast, rasping as he stumbled towards the Vandal. As she turned onto her back, he is already upon her, practically jumping upon her chest and swinging an elbow into her throat.
Flourishing One choked and Angel took the opportunity to take his knife – his belt feeling light now with the absence of the shock blade – and pressed the blade against her throat. He felt her go still under him.
"I care little if you insult me or even kill me during this venture. However." Angel warned, "If you 'ever' insults Salziks or 'anyone' within my pack, you 'will' pay dearly."
He waited, watching until Flourishing One nodded stiffly to remove his blade from her throat and then slowly, got up from the Vandal. It was then he stumbled back, raising a hand to his head as dizziness took over him, the aches in his body now prominent. Squeezing his eyes shut, Angel then sheathed his knife back around his waist.
That is when he heard a snarl.
Snapping his eyes open, Angel looked towards Flourishing One. Only to feel hands wrap around his throat.
Her lunge propelled him back and landed painfully back upon the hearth, his head bouncing off the ground and turned his vision white. He then wheezed as he felt pressure press against his throat.
Reaching out with his lone hand, Angel then started clawing at Flourishing One's wrist, kicking with his legs in a vain attempt to buck the Eliksni off. But unlike him, she has use of two hands and superiority in weight and Angel heaved as his lungs screamed for air.
His light. Weak as it is now, he must use his light.
As such, reaching to lessons of focus, Angel felt the familiar tingle of arc against his skin, blue momentarily lighting up the darkness. And he spotted Flourishing One flinch. He paused.
No. He couldn't. He shouldn't.
Angel had already hurt enough Eliksni, taken enough of their lives despite the promises he has made. He cannot break it more than he already has. And what is to say that even if he does get out of here, that his connection to Hope would remain strong?
He didn't want to admit it, but the longer they stayed underground, the weaker the link, feeling it fade gradually. Who knows, perhaps by the time he got out, his life as a Guardian would be over.
But for Flourishing One, she has a chance. A chance to live through this partially unscathed. After all, despite their division, an Eliksni is still an Eliksni.
As such, Angel, - either through the knowledge that she will perhaps make it out or a hidden subtle vengeance that she might not make it out on her own – released his hold upon her wrist. And waited.
Just as the edges of his vision went black, when he felt his consciousness fade, the grasp around his neck went lax. And Angel took in a deep gasp.
"Are you that desperate to die, bandit!?" Flourishing One's words were loud within the tunnel but, Angel barely comprehended it as he coughed and wheezed, his lungs finally relieved, "Severing your arm and then relenting to death?! And here I thought you were enough of a fool before!"
Taking in rasping breaths, Angel blinked past tears as he felt the Vandal leave his chest. His eyes settled over her, "As I have said before, I care little of what you say or do to me." He coughed; his throat ached, "Just as long as you do not throw insults at my pack."
"Are you that of a selfless fool!?" Flourishing One sounded exasperated, shocked, "Willing to do anything for your pack but can just sit here and die simply because of what? I am an Eliksni?"
Saying nothing, Angel simply used his arm to prop himself up, pushing himself so he sat upon the floor, his legs spread out before him.
He heard Flourishing One snarl, "Do you think this world will be kind to you for your actions, bandit? That it will show you mercy as you have done for others? Or you simply do not know how to be selfish, bandit?"
Selfish.
That word rang loud in his mind as Angel shifted his eyes towards the floor, regret, and guilt building within his chest as he recalled a promise. A promise that he broke long ago.
"You speak of being selfish but yet, you let me live." Angel decided to say. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Flourishing One go rigid, "If you kill me and perhaps drag my body back, you may receive that title of Baron that you covet."
Silence and then a chuff from the Vandal, Angel looking up to see her look away, crossing her upper arms.
"When your Shard is absent on your person?" She said as she turned her attention back onto him, her eyes narrowed, "What proof will I have by dragging your body back to my House without it? All they will see is a man dressed in bandit armor." Flourishing One growled, "No Shard, no proof of my kill."
Watching her then turn her back to him and walk down the tunnel, Angel pondered, musing, "Then why not a prisoner?"
He saw her halt and then slowly turned to face him, "What foolishness are you talking about now?"
"The reason you are down here is to look for resources, am I correct?"
Judging from the way Angel heard her take in a deep breath, hands flexing near her sides, his guess is right. After all, the House of Kings had lost two of their Barons, resources would be low without reliable leadership. That is the only reason that they would be willing to send numbers down into a recently downed Hive ship. It is too tempting of a target.
"That would mean that the safest route would be to return to the way you entered." Angel continued, "What am I to do if I escape this corrupted place with you? Walk out?" He shook his head, "No, I would be slaughtered, torn apart without a second thought. Unless you claim me as your prisoner."
"A stupid idea." Flourishing One spat, "What makes you think that even if I do take you as a prisoner, that my House will let you live? What if they instead kill you on the spot instead of imprisonment as you hope."
Good point.
However.
"Then I am a dead man either way." Angel said.
And it is true. If he tries to split with Flourishing One now, especially with his injuries, he wouldn't make it out alive. At least, if he goes with the Eliksni, he will have a chance. Even as a prisoner.
And judging from the way Flourishing One's eyes narrowed, a low rumble emitting from her throat, that she thought the same.
"Fine then." He heard her say, "Let us make your life worthwhile. However." Angel watched as she approached, standing his ground when her face lingered close to his, "If you try to run, then your death won't be a swift one, bandit."
Despite the threat, Angel couldn't suppress a chuckle, his smile broad when Flourishing One reeled, her four eyes wide.
"I do not know what type of bandits you have met, Flourishing One." Angel started, "But I always keep my word, despite the circumstances."
There is a blink from her, then another before finally, the Vandal huffed, and she turned away from him once more. This time, as she walked away, Angel slowly and unsteadily stood, placing a hand onto the stump of his right arm, and then followed