Hello and welcome guardians, I'm bumping and revitalizing this post before I make "Jaren Ward, Dredgen Yor, and Shin Malphur Master Post" (or probably a better name than that...) which will include every fact and theory I have found about that story. Most of all, I hope it to show that Jaren Ward simply could [i]not[/i] have become Dredgen Yor. What do you guys think? If you want some background information follow the link below, it holds both posts of information I already have.
IT'S CONFIRMED ONCE AND FOR ALL JAREN DID NOT BECOME DREDGEN!
Also that Dredgen never stopped fighting, even after he gave up. He wanted to die. He let himself die by Shin's hand. 100/10 beautiful story bungie. Thank you so much for it.
[url=https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/115658936/0/0]AnonPig's Theories Archived[/url]
-
Bump. Spoilers below. Ghost Fragment: The Last Word 4 [spoiler]Then. Palamon was ash. I was only a boy – my face caked in soot, snot and sorrow. I’d assumed Jaren, my friend, our Guardian, the savior of Palamon, would always protect us – could always save us… But I was a fool. Jaren, and the others, only a handful, but still our best hunters, our hardest hearts, had left three suns prior. Tracking Fallen, after the bandits had caused a stir. The stranger – the other – arrived the following day. He rarely spoke. Took a room. Took our hospitality. I was intrigued by him, as I was Jaren when he’d first arrived. But the stranger was cold. Distant. Damaged, I thought. But I wasn’t afraid. Not yet. Only a child, I knew the monsters of our world to walk like men, but they were not. They were something alien. Four-armed and savage. The stranger was polite, but solemn. I took him for a sad, broken man, and he was. Though, at the time, I didn’t understand how that could make one dangerous. As with Jaren, father made an effort to keep me away from the stranger. It wouldn’t matter. As the silhouette approached, fear held tight. The dark figure towered over me. Looking into me – through me. He smiled. My knees weak. All lost. Then, he turned and walked away. Leaving ruin and a heartbroken, terrified boy in his wake without a second glance. I’ve been chasing that stranger’s shadow ever since. Now. We stood silent, the sun high. Seconds passed, feeling more like hours. He looked different. He seemed, now, to be weightless – effortless in an existence that would crush a man burdened by conscience. My gaze remained locked as I felt a heat rising inside of me. The other spoke… “Been awhile.” I gave no reply. “The gunslinger’s sword… his cannon. That was a gift.” My silence held as my thumb caressed the perfectly worn hammer at my hip. “An offering from me… to you.” The heat grew. Centered in my chest. I felt like a coward the day Jaren Ward died and for many cycles after. But here, I felt only the fire of my Light. The other probed… “Nothing to say?” He let the words hang. “I’ve been waiting for you. For this day.” His attempt at conversation felt mundane when judged against all that had come before. “Many times I thought you’d faltered. Given up…” All I’d lost, all who’d suffered, flashed rapid through my mind, intercut with a dark silhouette walking toward a frightened, weak, coward of a boy. The fire burned in me. The other continued… “But here you are. This is truly an end…” As his tongue slipped between syllables my gun hand moved as if of its own will. Reflex and purpose merged with anger, clarity and an overwhelming need for just that… an end. In step with my motion, the fire within burst into focus – through my shoulder, down my arm – as my finger closed on the trigger of my third father’s cannon. Two shots. Two bullets engulfed in an angry glow. The other fell. I walked to his corpse. He never raised his cursed Thorn – the jagged gun with the festering sickness. I looked down at the dead man who had caused so much death. My shooter still embraced by the dancing flames of my Light. A sadness came over me. I thought back to my earliest days. Of Palamon. Of Jaren. Leveling my cannon at the dead man’s helm, I paid one final tribute to my mentor, my savior, my father and my friend… “Yours… Not mine.” …as I closed my grip, allowing Jaren’s cannon, now my own, to have the last, loud word.[/spoiler] Ghost Fragment: Thorn 4 [spoiler]The Shadow and the Light TYPE: Transcript. DESCRIPTION: Conversation. PARTIES: Two [2]. One [1] Ghost-type, designate [REDACTED] [u.1], One [1] Guardian-type, Class [REDACTED] [u.2] ASSOCIATIONS: Breaklands; Durga; Dwindler’s Ridge; Last Word; Malphur, Shin; North Channel; Palamon; Thorn; Velor; Ward, Jaren; WoS; Yor, Dredgen; //AUDIO UNAVAILABLE// //TRANSCRIPT FOLLOWS…/ [u.1:0.1] Such Darkness. [u.2:0.1] Impressed? [u.1:0.2] Far from it. [u.2:0.2] To each their own. [u.1:0.3] His Light is faded. [u.2:0.3] His Light is gone. [u.1:0.4] You are an infection. [u.2:0.4] I am that which will cleanse. [u.1:0.5] You are a monster. [u.2:0.5] Heh. An old friend once saw me as the same. He was right, and, had we met earlier, so too would you be. [u.1:0.6] You’d dare defend yourself – all you’ve done – as anything but monstrous? [u.2:0.6] No more than a hurricane. [u.1:0.7] Then you’re a force of nature? [u.2:0.7] I am all that is right. You may not see it – for lack of looking, or blind ignorance – but I am all that is good. [u.1:0.8] You’ve just murdered a good man. [u.2:0.8] He shot first. [u.1:0.9] Yet you stand. [u.2:0.9] Guess he missed. [u.1:1.0] He never misses. [u.2:1.0] First time for everything. [silence] [u.2:1.1] His cannon? Nice piece of hardware. [u.2:1.2] Well-worn, but clean. Smooth hammer. [u.1:1.1] It was his prize. [u.2:1.3] Guess he put too much faith in the wrong steel. [u.1:1.2] Is that where you’re faith lies, in steel? [u.2:1.4] Not for some time. My steel is only an extension. My faith is in the shadow. [u.1:1.3] Then my Light is an affront to all you are. I am your truest enemy. [u.2:1.5] One of many. [u.1:1.4] Would you end me? [u.2:1.6] Not you. Not now. [u.1:1.5] The shadow knows mercy. [u.2:1.7] The shadow knows no such thing. [u.1:1.6] Then what? [u.2:1.8] The other. [u.1:1.7] What other? [u.2:1.9] The dead man’s charge. [u.1:1.8] The boy? [u.1:1.9] You’d end him as well? [u.2:2.0] If it comes to that… We’ll see. [u.1:2.0] I won’t let you have the child. [u.2:2.1] Been long enough now, think maybe he’s a man. [u.1:2.1] You cannot have him. [u.2:2.2] Not yet. [u.1:2.2] I won’t let you. [u.2:2.3] That you could stop me is an amusing thought. [silence] [u.2:2.4] Here. [silence] [u.2:2.5] Take it. [u.1:2.3] Why? [u.2:2.6] Give the apprentice his master’s “sword.” It is a gift. [u.1:2.4] You cannot have him. [u.2:2.7] You fear for his Light? [u.1:2.5] He… [u.2:2.8] …is special. [u.1:2.6] Yes. [u.2:2.9] I am aware. [u.1:2.7] You’re trying to tempt him. You’re feeding his anger. [u.2:3.0] The gun is a memento, nothing more. [u.1:2.8] You claim to be a vessel, a hollow shell where once a man stood, but that is just a lie. The man is still in you. [u.2:3.1] There is no man here, I am now, and for the rest of time, only Dredgen Yor. [u.1:2.9] “The Eternal Abyss?” [u.2:3.2] So, not all the forgotten languages are dead. [u.1:3.0] Hide behind whatever titles you wish, it is all still a façade. No force of nature would play such games. [u.2:3.3] Games? [u.1:3.1] The cannon. You wish to tempt the boy. Too spur him on and fuel his rage. There is intent there. The actions of a man, monstrous, mad or otherwise… you are nothing more. [u.2:3.4] And what value does your conclusion bring, flawed as it may be? [u.1:3.2] That a hurricane can only be weathered, not stopped. Not redirected. A force of nature is uncaring and without intent, but a man… [u.2:3.5] Yes? [u.1:3.3] A man is none of those things. [silence] [u.1:3.4] A man can be killed. [silence] [u.2:3.6] And there it is… [u.1:3.5] There what is…? [u.2:3.7] A sliver of hope.[/spoiler]