Enjoy! oh and if you want feel free to comment and offer advice/ critiques or anything you want. Four Years Ago It’s dark, and I lie alone. The bones, they laugh in the darkness. The Knight, Tro’orox, The Hated. It spoke its name, and my soul was shattered. Urzok fell, long ago, in the hunt for Crota. The Warlocks described Hated as a singular title. I can see why. Something about them is… pure darkness. It ripped the fabric of our reality, tore into our dimension and scarred the very being of the moon. They are executioners of both the Dark and the Light. Where is Alice? Lance? Anyone? Of course, they laugh at me again. Three golden eyes opened in the darkness, ironically the only light this deep… where ever I am. Tro’orox brought his face close to mine, a sinister grin revealing jagged, broken teeth. “Light,” it whispered. “You think you claimed Luna? The Dreadnaught? No.” Its voice stole all hope. My hands shook, sending a slight metallic clank through the deep. Instinct, I guess, kept my weapon from leaving my side. Channeling arc energy into the blade I lifted it only to have it fail. “You will feed my worm,” it said again tilting its head to one side. “My sword logic defines the end of your existence here.” Present Day Lorelei walked out into the city. Breathing fresh, crisp air into her lungs, the scent of cedar floated in the air. Brushing her hair behind her ear, freedom painted a smile on her face. People walked by bustling in their own business and talking amongst themselves. The citizens of the city did not care she was the reaper, they recognized her as a guardian, if at all, smiling and nodding in respect. The middle of the city climbed the highest, in attempt to be close the Traveler. Office buildings, hotels, and the entire financial district of the city stretched across the length of the Traveler’s shadow. Stopping in front of a glassy building, she looked up in admiration. The magnificent architecture was based off traditional aesthetics. Her loft was a cozy corner room of the building. The lower level was clad with tile flooring, equipped with a fully loaded kitchen, and half bath. The dining table was always preset for two. The half upper floor was completely carpeted, the soft fabric absorbed Lorelei’s feet as she slowly walked across it. A large television stretched across the far wall of the living room, with a black leather couch half circled in front of it. The oak coffee table sat between the television and couch slightly dusty. The bedroom was nestled right above the kitchen, with access to the balcony overlooking the financial district. Night fell over the city as Lorelei finally settled in. She slipped into a silken gown, popped a bottle of liquor, and stepped out onto the balcony glass in hand. “It’s beautiful,” Lorelei looked over the city. “The city.” “It is,” Echo responded as her and Atlas floated around behind Lorelei. “I don’t think I’m going back this time.” “Good.” *** Powdery snow caressed Felwinter Peak. The white flakes danced in the breeze as a wolf howled toward the midday sun. The wooden bridge creaked beneath Lance’s feet as he walked toward the temple. “Thought you were dead,” Shiro shot. “Had to call Cayde.” “Thanks for the concern,” Charlemagne responded as Lance silently walked by. “Heard you brought down a Kell Risen,” Shiro followed. “Voriks was gimped before the fight even began,” Lance spat. “How so?” Shiro pushed as they approached the bounty tracker. “No swords, Reaper, and me,” Lance turned in his Cosmodrome Reconnaissance bounty and scouting records, receiving glimmer as his reward. “Wait,” Shiro stopped. “Reaper.” “That’s who they sent.” Lance cracked his knuckles looking up at the natural step like rocks in the mountain. “Bet she was exactly like the rumors.” “Years of honing and training in one codex would do that.” Lance jumped up onto the rocks. “Guess I’ll catch you later if anything comes up.” Shiro waved as Lance climbed upward. The rocks were frigid, coated in a layer of permafrost and providing little grip. He jumped to another set of rocks, avoiding the fern plants barely keeping alive. Climbing to the small plateau, a growling wolf met his gaze. Sitting up, its eyes flared as if protecting the statue overlooking the bridge. Lance bowed respectfully and turned looking for another set of rocks to work up. There was a small tug on his mark as the grey wolf seemed to narrow its eyes looking up. “Right,” Lance knelt, laughing slightly. “Always for luck.” Lance scratched behind the wolf’s ear and under its chin. He could feel the thick fur under his armor as its wiry bristles poked at the breaks. When the wolf was satisfied, it resumed its guard of the statue. Maneuvering up against the snow and ice, he faced the face of the mountain. Clouds dimmed the sky as a slight snow fell. The treacherous climb challenged balance, coordination, focus, and mental strength. Lance could feel the wind pick up, icy claws scratching at his back. The air thinned as he jumped across ledges. Thoughts raced into his mind as he slipped, barely taking hold of a rock in time. Regaining his balance, he pushed the negativity from his mind as he faced the final jump. Leaning into the wind, the frozen snowcapped slope offered little sympathy as Lance could not find a grip. He slipped and fell back. His legs dangled hundreds of feet above the jagged precipice below. Squeezing hard, he broke through the ice and took hold of some rock. Clinging single handedly to the wall he took a deep breath to fend off the frustration. He could hear the wolves howl below as he swung his body over the side of the cliff onto the summit. “I don’t understand,” Charlemagne floated over to the fire pit zapping the wood and sparking it to life. “Why do you keep climbing this god forsaken mountain side?” “You know why,” Lance removed his helmet walking to the small hole carved into the mountain. A single memorial pillar was carved into the rock. “Hey,” Lance kneeled in front of the pillar. “You won’t believe what we did today.” A ship flew low over the courtyard, its three pronged wings indicative of a Reef emissary. An awoken dropped from the ship, clad in the Queen’s Guard, Petra Venj. “What brings the emissary of the Queen,” Saladin inquired bowing his head in respect. “Where is Lord Pendragon,” Petra skipped the pleasantries. Saladin laughed, and pointed to the summit of the mountain. “We killed a Kill Risen today,” Lance recounted sitting next to the memorial. “Teddy was there,” he laughed pulling a small bear charm from a pocket in his armor. “He can vouch for me. Reaper was there… she didn’t recognize me. Four years will do that to you I guess.” Bells rang out into the snow around the mountain. A beautiful symphony chimed as Lance recounted the battle with Voriks. Smiling as he finished, the song ended. Putting on his helmet, he moved toward the ledge of the summit. Charlemagne moved away from his warm position by the fire, dematerializing into Lance’s backpack. He jumped forward onto the steep downward slope of the mountain. Sliding on the ice and snow, he flew down the face of the mountain until he hit a small ramp of rock. Arching into the air, Lance felt the weightless sensation as he fell into the courtyard. A plume of snow and dust spread outward as he landed next to the fire pit. “It’s impolite to keep someone waiting,” Petra announced from the doors of the Iron Temple. “I owe no duty to you Petra,” Lance responded. “You do to the Queen,” she walked down the steps. “And she has something for you.” Petra handed Lance a summons notice. Reading it over, he gritted his teeth. “No.” “Excuse me?” “I will see the Queen, but I am not going back to the moon.” “I’m handing you Tro’orox on a silver platter here.” “And I will happily explain to the Queen why I don’t particularly care.”