The howling wind tore harshly at his white cloak. The rain poured down in thick heavy sheets, soaking into the soft white fabric as his boots dug into the mud. The freezing precipitation pounded his helmet, leaving tiny drops of water all over his shield inhibiting his view as if the visor was cracked like candy glass. Thunder rolled smoothly and effortlessly in the black sky, while the lightning spread against the dismal backdrop like veins in the hands of a giant, but he didn’t care, he ventured onward. Not even his ghost would accompany him this night, for not even his ghost was able to comprehend the true reason as to why this strange, bizarre, mystifying man did the things he did. He preferred to be alone, it didn’t bother him, and more often than not, he actually welcomed every moment's peace he was able to get his tan gloved hands on. But this moment would descend into peace, for his mind was far from easy as he walked down these familiar muddy back alleys of the City. Dimly lit streets that were in shambles, tiny hovels that served as poor excuses for huts were in disrepair, rainwater dripping through the seams soaking the unfortunate people whom lived there. The Speaker continued to move stealthy amidst the shadows, this night was perfect, what with its sinister devilish clouds lurking above, continually raining down misery upon the wretches who dwelled in their slums. And he would walk, and sneak, and hide to ensure that no peeping eyes bore witness to his trespasses, this was his horrible secret that only he shared with a very select few. Many a shifty go-betweens he went through, he coursed and traversed paths others dare not dream of, but that is who the Speaker was, the only one capable of making the decisions all were too frightened to make. His voyage finally came to an end when he passed the outskirts of the City, he stepped over the line marking the City-limits, and the relative safety of it. Out here, everything seemed darker. The rain felt as if a whip was lashing at his back, the wind screamed in a impenitent wail, the thunder cracked like a shotgun, the lightning exploded in blinding bursts as if the wrath of the Gods was being unleashed. But it didn’t matter, it never did. The Speaker came to what was a makeshift graveyard. It was filled with weathered stones that would could be sadly described as tombstones, but they were merely just pieces of rock half shoved into the ground, the other half lay in rubble across the plains. Each rock was blank; no name, no numbers, just old stone. But the Speaker knew what was buried under each one, and everytime he gave the order to add another stone to the ever growing pile, he would come out to visit them. The most recent one, of course, belonged to a female Hunter. A Hunter who sacrificed, bled, but still managed to keep fighting, never was there a moment in her life where she would accept defeat, not even after the death of the man who she called her brother; until she came back home. The Speaker lowered his head to the ground and said, “You gave me no choice, Bree. I stand before you tonight, to tell you the truth.” His cloak flapping from the wind. “You are not the first Guardian who was “different” and I’m sure you will not be the last. We have seen you and your brother’s kind before, a kind who stand defiant, a total disregard for all of the good that we, as the Vanguard and Guardians of the Light, represent. Your radical mind frame and cavalier attitude was a poison, a plague, and unfortunately, this was the only way to cure you, to cure the Vanguard.” The Speaker turned his head up to the sky that was aglow with electricity. He slowly turned and looked at the hundreds of shattered stones, to the naked eye, they were just busted pieces of concrete in the middle of nowhere. “What do you think happened to all of those Guardians who suddenly “went dark” while they were on a mission? All of our technology, all of our science, and we are just suppose to accept the fact that we lost communication with them?” A sigh, almost remorseful, escaped him. “It was us, Bree, it was us all along. But more specifically, it was me. I control it all. Whenever one, such as yourself, presents themselves as a potential problem or harmful to my plans, I see that they are permanently silenced. The fact that no Guardian has any recollection of their former life is not a coincidence, it’s a complete memory wipe that the Ghost performs upon resurrecting. If they are too focused on their past, they will never be able to fight for the future. And that, Bree, is the only thing I’m interested in, the future. The darkness is spreading, the corners of the globe where the Light still shines is being slowly extinguished, and I need soldiers to fight it.” With his final words spoken, The Speaker gave one final look down before he lifted his head and began his long march back to his puppets. [i]Thank you all. I hope you enjoyed the story. Once again, all comments and feedback are welcomed. I plan on taking a little break from writing for the next few weeks, again, thank you all for your support![/i] [i]Trials of a Guardian: ALL Chapters (Appendix)[/i]: https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/105589170/0/0