[url=https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/254979692/0/0]Table of Contents[/url]
Hendal falls from Draksis’ hand like a puppet whose strings have been cut. From this distance I can only imagine the state his body and armor are in. Dented, smashed, shattered by the strength of the Ruthless Kell.
I can’t imagine what his Ghost is thinking. As soon as the Titan’s corpse hits the ground the little drone materializes. Perhaps it thinks if it’s fast enough, if it’s lucky enough, it will have a chance of reviving its counterpart. But it is not fast or lucky, and the Kell of Winter does not allow it the chance.
Flaming shards of shrapnel tear apart the Ghost’s shell like paper. Once again a wave of Light engulfs the battlefield, passing through us. As it passes through me a hand tugs on the back of my coat. I turn my gaze to meet Elta’s.
“Sal,” she whispers. I can see the terror in her eyes, the same terror I’m feeling, “He told us to run.”
I look back to our crashed ship. The Fallen have already forgotten about Hendal. There are still two Guardians left for them to kill. Elena and Beladona desperately avoid the few Fallen that remain, thinning their numbers with careful shots. But they are still outnumbered, and I can tell they’re doing everything they can to keep distance between themselves and the Winter Kell. They are only stalling; buying us time.
“Sal,” Elta grabs my arm with both hands and pulls me along. I will my legs to move and run with her.
“Did you see Javier?” She pants as we flee. I don’t answer. The mechanic had vanished. He must have been murdered by the pirates in the chaos. No one had even noticed. Despair grips my heart and I start to cry. Half of us are already dead. Olly, Hendal, Parsin, Javier. There’s no way we can survive the Fallen. We’re all going to die. Elena and Beladona can’t win.
My fear is confirmed as -for the third time- a wave of Light washes over us. Elta and I both slow down and look back.
“Who was it?” I ask, searching for any sign of the Guardians among the Fallen swarm.
“There’s one!” Elta exclaims, pointing with a shaking hand. I spot Elena dashing between Fallen, her combat robes flaring behind her, heading for-
The air twangs, a streak of light flashes by, I smell ozone.
I blink my eyes then rub at them, trying to clear the lingering vestige of the flash from my retinas. After a moment my vision clears and I realize what had happened, “They’re shooting at us! We’ve gotta-“
I turn to Elta and gasp. She’s looking down at the scorched hole in her chest. Her hands are held up like she’s trying to figure out what to do with them.
“I...” She murmurs, taking an unsteady step back, “It doesn’t hurt...”
-
Draksis enjoys the small things in life, like the smell of fear on a cold winter morning