The Man of Iron, the Young Wolf, and the Farseer - Chapter I

“Did you know that Toland the Shattered was actually EXILED from the tower? Simply for studying the Darkness, that’s—“

“Bound to drive any sane person mad.” Tyson groans as he finished his last push-up in a set of a hundred. He scoots into a sitting position on the concrete, glancing over to where Nathan sat, a few paces away, with one of his books in hand. 

With a smirk, Tyson attempts to lighten the mood.

“But you’re not a sane person, are you?” He chuckles, resting his arms over his knees as he lets his aching muscles rest for the time being. "You know as well as I do that Toland's research drove him to insanity. You can't have someone like that around here. Word of that gets to the Last City and the people are thrown into panic and fear..." 

“Perhaps it’s me who is saner than any person on this Tower or the Last City. You could all be the mad ones.” Nathan shot back, though he couldn’t help but chuckle too, looking down at his book once again. “I don’t wish to study the Darkness—not to that extent, anyway. I simply want to be able to stop our enemies, once and for all. To not have Fallen, Hive, or Vex flood the city. The people should know what we're up against. They need to have a fighting chance, if it ever--”

“Pft, that would never happen. So long as we keep Titans at our gates.” Tyson rises, stretching out after his routine.

Nathan turns his attention back to his book, letting those words sink in. He can’t help but feel as though the day is inevitable. He would very much like to believe that the Traveler will save them all, that as long as they kept fighting the good fight, the threat would pass and they’d all be hailed as heroes to go on and live their peaceful lives.

Yet he knew that just wasn’t the truth. It was something they told the children of the City, or those blessed in their blissful ignorance to be able to turn a blind eye to the war going on outside the walls.

"Come on, we've got Vanguard Introduction. Time to finally see some action." 

He turned his attention back up to his comrade, who was throwing on his plated gear over the thin layer of under-armour they bore. He closed his book, taking in a sharp breath.

There was no place of blissful ignorance, not here, not now, and not ever.

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“Message, incoming.”

“Not now, Ghost.”

“Hunter, I do believe it—“

“NOT NOW!” The fiery-haired huntress tosses an empty bottle in the direction of her Ghost, who simply glides aside to let it fall in pieces among the other shattered bottles. The AI examines the way the sunlight that sneaks in from beneath cotton curtains catches the multi-coloured bottles, and for a moment it loses itself to the streams of colour on the wall. But, only for a moment.

“Cayde is growing more worried, Guardian. As am I, with your vitals—“

“Didn’t I tell you /not/ to monitor them?!” She snarls, bearing her teeth, reminding her AI companion that the young wolf inside is far from gone, which floods her companion with relief.

Ghost feared that fire might have been extinguished. Of course, Ghost had to be stuck with /this/ Guardian. Well… Ghost couldn’t say that; it hadn’t always been this way. Ghost could recall the time when they’d first found her, how she shined brighter than the sun. She was bursting with life when Ghost awakened her, burning with a fire he hadn’t seen in others—not for a very long time. The hunters would tell stories about her and the wolf-pack, how they’d taken out some of the greatest threats to the Traveler and the Last City. The golden days… He certainly didn’t expect she’d turn out like this… then again, no one did. She was haunted by ghosts of the past, visions of what might have been, what she could’ve done different. Suvivor’s guilt, the doctors had called it. And when the wolf ached to get back into the wild, they caged her, deeming her unfit for the field.

“Guardian, Cayde requests your presence—“

“Ghost.” Kalina warns. She rose finally, stretching scarred limbs above her head. With a yawn, her arms fell to their place at her sides and she made her way towards the refresher. The tank shirt on her back stuck to sweat-stricken skin as a messy pony tail of crimson trailed behind her, signifying that the night had been anything but relaxing. Ghost hesitated, but decided against following—Ghost knew to keep her at distance. All the smart ones did.

The huntress went about her routine, pressing numerous buttons to adjust her refresher settings just the way she liked them. She’d give it to the guys at the top of command; they certainly hadn’t skipped out on luxury when they’d caged her to this forsaken complex. She went to disrobe but paused, electric emeralds catching her own reflection in the clouded mirror. Her brow furrowed as her hand reached out to wipe the steam from the glass, showing the stranger staring back at her. Dark bags collected under her eyes, her once full cheeks--hollowed. Strands of red fell from their composed ponytail, shadows casting over her face. Come to think of it, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d mustered enough courage to face that stranger she saw before her. The young wolf… Her knuckles turned white as fists balled at her sides.

“We need to fall back!”
            “We can do this! I got this!”

“NO!”

Her heart raced, reliving the horror, and the reaction had always been quicker than the mind—a flash, and all she could see was red. She hissed through gritted teeth, drawing the bloodied hand into her chest as the shattered mirror broke into pieces at her boots. She staggered back into the refresher, hardly able to catch her breath. She slammed her back against the wall with such force it would surely bruise. It was always too vivid, always too real. Tilting her head back against the cool tile, she squeezed her eyes shut, giving her best attempt at screaming the memories away; howling like a wolf who’d lost its pack. Sliding to a sitting position, the Guardian clutched the injury as she would’ve clutched the team she lost, letting the water spill down her cheeks.

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“Do you think one day they’ll tell stories about our team?” The Warlock eagerly trailed after his dark-haired Titan team-mate, clutching his satchel of books tighter to his side with a goofy grin. It was a bright spring day for the Tower. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping—and two new Guardians were prepping for their first deployment.

“You bet your ass they will.” Tyson sent a sideways smile to the blonde, reaching over in attempts to grab his satchel, which made the Warlock hiss in protest, shoving his arm away. “But you won’t have your stupid books on the battlefield. You’ll have guns and these!” He held up two meaty fists, his lips tugging into a wide grin as they strode towards the Vanguard.

“There’s more to fighting off the Darkness than guns and fists, you know.” Nathan muttered, although he didn’t wish for another argument and instead, changed the subject.

“Think we’ll get teamed up with another rookie? Three inexperienced Guardians?” He tilted his head.  The Vanguard always had a funny way of doing things, as if their true agenda was always kept under-raps—Nathan knew damn well that they had no work for rookies, not until they’d proven themselves worthy. But if they were lucky enough to get teamed up with a vet…

“Seems as though they’re short on fresh blood—I think we’ll be /lucky/ to even get a full team. They should just let us to handle it—you’re the brains, I’m the brawn—we can handle ourselves.” Tyson reasoned, stretching out his arms in front of him. They approached the Vanguard hall where three figures crowded around a long war-table, always talking strategy yet in three very different manners.

“Guardians.” Ikora gave a bow of her head and offered a slight smile, although her eyes favoured her Warlock. She gave her head a tilt of question when she noticed the bag he was hauling around. “You will have adequate storage on the field, Guardian, surely you don’t need—“

“You never know, maybe I will.” Nathan offers a bit of a smile although his cheeks slightly heated up as he tries to tuck the bag behind him, wishing it would just disappear.

“Reacher.” Zavala bows his head curtly to his Titan, seeming pleased enough with his physical stature. “I trust you have prepared well.”

“I—“

“Well, well, well.” Cayde pipes in without invitation, leaning back against the table with his arms folded over his chest. “Rookies heading into the field for the first time? I remember my first time… in the field—that is. There’s some… scary stuff out there. Don’t you think it’s a little dangerous, especially since there’s only two?”

Annoyance plain as day on her face, Ikora feeds the famed hunter, narrowing her eyes. “Given the shortage of Guardians in recent months, we have no choice. Unless—“

“Well, I’m glad you brought that up! You see, it just so happens that I have a third Guardian for you, to make a wonderfully completed fire-team.Not a rookie either. A seasoned professional. A Hunter, a Warlock, and a Titan—a match-made in heaven.” Cayde speaks with a smirk in the tone of his voice.

Zavala looks impressed, quirking his head as if he didn’t hear him right. “Really?” He asks, though the disbelief is evident in his voice.

As if on cue, the huntress rounds the corner, paying no mind to the eyes she draws. She rounds to Cayde’s side, briefly looking over the war-table as she leaned her elbows forward against it. She reaches forward to let her bandaged hand skim over the map, parting her lips to speak. “Ghost so kindly—“

“No.” Ikora steps forward, slamming her hands on the table so hard that it makes even the seasoned Guardians jump. Her cold gaze pierces the Exo himself. “Do you so badly want us to recklessly lose more Guardians?!”

“Ikora—listen, I get it, alright… but that was years ago. People change. Look, Eris was trapped in a pit with Hive and we trust her, right? How is this different? Let’s just give it a shot.”

Nathan’s eyes wander over to the girl that his vanguard opposes, studying her carefully. Even if Cayde hadn’t brought it up, he could tell by her movements she’s a hunter—a quick one, too. He lets his gaze roam over the scars on her—definitely not fresh blood. His eyes lift to her face and for a moment he thinks she might be sick, yet quickly decides that it’s rest she needs, not medicine. He might’ve been able to draw more conclusions if he hadn’t felt the cool metal of a throwing knife just graze the hair beside his head. He goes to react, attempting to lift a hand but all that leaves him is a yelp, staggering aside. Small but firm hands dig into his biceps and he’s shoved back against the wall beside where the knife is lodged. His thoughts catch up and he sees her there, growling at him like a rabid animal.

“Got something to say, Warlock?” She snarls, her dangerous gaze flickering over him. She gives a slight tilt of her head, which only sends shivers down his spine. He blinks several times, at a momentary loss for words before wetting his lips to speak.

“I, uh—like your knife?” He glanced at it lodged in the wall, gulping as her hand clasps around it to pull it from the wood.

“Look at me like that again and it will be the last time you—“

“Okay, okay!” Cayde hauls the shorter girl off of him, giving her a light shove aside, a nervous laugh quickly following. “Well, it wouldn’t be a true initiation if a hunter hasn’t thrown a knife, am I right?”

“Cayde—“ Zavala snarled, and the three broke out into another argument for the ages. Kalina growled lowly, reaching up to rub her temples and turn her back on the room, putting a few yards between the group in favour of the view of the sky instead

Tyson blinked as he watched the girl who had moved upon his team-mate with such speed—he’d hardly been able to react, but thankfully, he hadn’t needed to. He couldn’t help but chuckle at how bewildered Nathan looked, reaching over to clasp a hand on his shoulder.

“We’ll take her!” He announced a wide grin on his lips.
            “What?!” Five voices harmonized. Kalina spun around, knitting her brows together in confusion while Nathan looked at his fire-team member as if he had another head.

“What? It’s a well-balanced team. A veteran, two fresh bloods; a Warlock, a Hunter and a Titan. Even you can’t argue that it doesn’t give us an edge—run the statistics, the probabilities of success-you can’t deny it.”

Nathan considers the Titan’s words, running the scenarios over in his head. Sure, if their Hunter doesn’t try to kill either of her team-mates, they run a very high rate of success—but she was a wild-card and he doubts even statistics could predict her next move.

“I don’t know, Ty—“

“You don’t have to know, she’s ours! One of us now.” He beams, looking over to the girl, who seems just as bewildered as the Warlock. With a great deal of hesitation, she makes her way to them, observing them carefully. Nathan feels himself hold his breath, turning his head away as to not face her hard gaze straight on. Tyson offers a wide grin, quirking up a brow. Silence lingers while she examines her new team-mates before finally asking,

“What’s with the bag?”