The ~SIVA Crisis

The Divide,

Old Russia, Earth

Snow.

It was all around me, covering the once barely green Cosmodrome. The night was still (for now anyways) and the sky was riddled by clouds, though it hardly impacted starlight from illuming the surrounding environment. The winds were calm, thankfully, and the temperatures were no lower than −8 ºC.

A ruined yet intact warehouse was in front of me, and inside it were storage crates, which more than likely were (already) raided of their contents. I was in the Divide, near the wall breach, scouting the area for any potential clues that could lead to SIVA.

Unfortunately, my luck had taken a toll in all quarters as I didn’t get a chance to sleep after my long trip, nor was there a chance for me to tell Paledon what had transpired on that wretched ship. By the time I had returned to the Tower, sheer exhaustion rippled through my body—and Paledon insisted that I tag along and help my team scout the Cosmodrome for any clues leading to SIVA. The aches in my body were still vast, but I sucked it up did what I was lead to do. The only remarkable thing(s) to happen upon my arrival were the kisses and hugs Paledon and I exchanged. Other than that, it was back to business for me. In truth though, I did miss the featherbrain; it was good to see another life form that didn’t want to kill or harm me, even if he was being stubborn in not letting me rest for a short while. Praise the Light, I guess.

Supposedly when I was on my little endeavour on the Dreadnaught, Paledon and the others had encountered strange Fallen, bearing a difference appearance from their normal brethren, that were augmented with red energy spikes, similar to Sepiks, back at the mountaintops. So either SIVA had warped them completely, or we’re dealing with a whole other kind of Fallen. Or maybe it was just both and I was being a dumb-ass by overthinking things.

God shoot me now.

In retrospect, Fallen were often scandalous, piratical, and mischievous, always getting into trouble and being a pure, utter annoyance. The only reason we (Guardians) waged war against them is because they choose to view us as a threat and attack us on site. According to the Warlocks, the Fallen loath us because the Traveler had left them for us. I couldn’t blame them though; who could? I’d be mad too if our God left us for another domain or species, leaving us hopelessly to perish in our own blood.

As I trailed along the snowy ground, my weapon hanging limply in my left hand, Ghost hovered over my shoulder, yapping away like usual. Sometimes I wondered if Ghosts were meant to make their Guardians crazy with their non-stop talking. Stuck with a floating talking eye. Lovely.

“Say,” Ghost said. “Do you even know where to look?”

“No? That’s the whole point of recon and scout. To gain intel. How else are we going to to find the SIVA? Just go up to a random Fallen. ‘Oh, hey there, so, um, I have reason to believe you found some ancient technology you’ve used to resurrect your Prime Servitor, Sepiks, I was just wondering if you could lead me to it, thanks!’”

“I suppose. You know, everything you just said had a lot of unnecessary details.”

I facepalmed. “Do you have anything from the crew?”

“I don’t,” Ghost said, wandering off in the distance. He was floating up and down in the air then turned around. “Though I think we got company.”

In the distance augmented Vandals and Shanks were en route to my position. They were armed with modified Shock Rifles with a red cloud surrounding them. The assailants appeared unlike any normal Fallen as they had a more robust appearance.

“Well, that’s new,” Ghost said above my left shoulder. “Should we engage?”

“Yes. They are threats. It looks like SIVA has really done something to them. And to their weapons,” I said, composing myself for battle.

For a moment, everything was silent; so silent I couldn’t hear my own breathing or the winds that unknowingly picked up as the enemy advanced. There were horns on the Vandals and the Shanks…well, were little airborne shooting robots that were a pain in the ass as they wielded a Solar Shield.

When a minute had passed (it honestly felt longer than a minute) a barrage of projectiles flew their way to me and impacted me, putting a moderate dent in my shield. I turned my attention to the three augmented Shanks—armed with Wire Rifles atop their body—chasing after me from a few metres away. Out in the open with no adequate cover in the immediate vicinity, I opted to face the threat with a vendetta and a loaded weapon.

I went invisible with a readily available smoke bomb and slide in the opposite direction of my enemy, so my body skidded through the cold snow. I turned around and unleashed my Boomer, being careful not to misdirect any shots. Each shot sounded that of thunderous roar that rocked the battlefield. Ever since it was enhanced, it’s been working flawlessly: I was able to exude more concentrated shots, increasing the lethality of the weapon, and the recoil direction wasn’t as intense, too.

And even though the Shanks fought valiantly with determination to take me out, they dropped like the snow that precipitated from the sky. I silently prided myself as all of them were dispatched, creating negligible explosions upon impacting the ground. Their shields were formidable, but were like paper, despite the wrong element being used to eliminate them.

For a moment, the environment was still and silent, giving me enough time to compose myself, but to no avail Vandals were advancing on my position. They were heading toward me, so I vaulted over a destroyed tank and sought cover behind it, and in doing so might have saved me from being revived by another fellow Guardian. The weapons they were using were unlike anything I had seen. An augmented Shock Rifle (which has homing rounds) shooting actual SIVA at me? Oh, no. I wasn’t going to be consumed by something so dark and harrowing. The idea of being eaten alive by nanomites…no thank you!

An onslaught of attacks flew above my head, leaving me unscathed by my assailants, thanks to the cover I had. As I sat in the cold snow, getting my bearings together (yet again), I thought about Paledon and where he was, how he was doing.

But I suppressed the thoughts, even though I didn’t want to, and focused on what was trying to kill me.

Taking a leap of faith, I jumped out of cover and did a forward flip before landing on the ground and charging forward. I shot twice, reloaded for good measure, and shot again. There were four Vandals combating me, though it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle, or so I thought.

A Vandal charged at me, striking me with his melee attack, causing me to drop my weapon. I was stunned, unable to move briefly. After a moment of recovery, I got my wits together, but was later shattered when the Vandal attacking me kicked my weapon to the side. Son of a bitch! Did SIVA enhance their smarts too?

I grabbed the knife that was on my belt and attempted to assail, but was countered which sent my blade flying in the air. Nothing was going right for me. Sometimes that happens; not everything is sunshine and rainbows….

Damn! I really need to cut back on the clichés. Sorry about that!

Realizing that I had no other choice, I did an outward crescent kick with my foot, causing the Vandal in front of me to stagger, giving me enough time to strike with a front kick. Believe it or not, but we can fight without weapons. Just simple combat techniques.

No one was getting out alive here.

The Vandal soon met the front of my palm with brute force, lest the Vandal counterattack me with something unexpected; after all, if there was something I could vouch, it’s expect the unexpected in battle. I landed a sucker punch on the bastard and snatched the opportunity of disarming the Vandal of its weapon with a swift outward kick, being careful to avoid contact lest it somehow warps me.

As strange as it was, the other Vandals were watching from afar, cheering their alley on while I got my ass handed to me. But, unfortunately for them, I had trick up my sleeve—something they wouldn’t expect.

My body still, my mind clear and free of all senses, I fearlessly stared into the Void. My mind steered once more through the empty space of nothingness and snatched a handful of the Void. My consciousness was lost, leaving me vulnerable to attack, but only for a split second before my consciousness was reclaimed, charging me with an influx of power, despite the little dark energy I had grasped in comparison to the infinite of dark energy in the insurmountable vacuum of space. The Void was not to messed with; it was uncanny and unforgivable if not tamed or respected.

I had my Void bow in my hand and the Vandal in front of me slowly backed away. Its many eyes blinked at me in regret for pissing off a Guardian. I could see it in its eyes. I had always suspected Fallen could feel some level of emotion, and if not maybe something akin to what we humans call emotion. I had no mercy to show for them, though. Not now at least.

With my arrow drawn, I released the string and a Void arrow penetrated the Vandal, causing it to falter to the ground. Its cries were like music to my ears. Oh how I could bathe in its tears, dance to its cries, and indulge in its misery.

Eventually it perished.

The other Vandals brandished their weapons and opened fired at me; but it was only in vain, for I, tempered by the Void, absorbed their attacks like I was some sponge or meat shield. I guess this what Titans feel like all the time, expect with me, I have to charge my Light and all…

I drew two arrows with the little influx of power remaining and quickly dispatched the other two. Tap, tap, dead.

I collapsed to the ground, exhausted for doing what I had done, but after five minutes of recovery found myself back on my feet.

“Ghost,” I said, walking over to my Boomer for its retrieval. “Could you gather data on the Vandal I killed and log your findings? I think these are the Fallen Paledon was talking about.”

“Sure thing,” Ghost said, motioning toward the dead carcass to scan it.

As Ghost went to work, I sat down on a small cube of concrete, hoping it would be a better substitute than sitting in the snow. It wasn’t. “Anything, Ghost?”

“Almost done!”

For some inexplicable reason, it felt like something was looming over my shoulder, as if another foe was—“Ghost…is there something behind me? I feel like something is behind me.”

“Don’t be silly. You killed everything here. How could something be behind you?” Ghost peered over at me. “Uh…actually, you may want to turn around…”

My nerves were on edge. “Ghost, what is it?”

“Something scary. And big. And augmented. And evil looking.”

“Not helping,” I said putting my finger on the trigger. “Should I…?”

“You should run.”

I bolted from my seated position and ran to where my little companion was, but I didn’t dare to look behind me lest I confront something even I couldn’t fathom on taking down, especially with SIVA going around.

I was scared.

The unknown was always a scary place, no matter how you put it. To me, anyways.

Mustering the bit of courage I had left, I glanced over my shoulder and noticed something scary yet awesome. You ready? I’ll leave you in suspense if I have to…

I’m joking, of course.

A Fallen Captain, empowered by SIVA, was standing right in front of my eyes—its form completely warped. Surrounded by an aura of Void, the Captain must had been towering at six and a half feet tall, its hierarchic stature still the same as an ordinary Captain, but this time with more of a punch to him. There were curved horns affixed on the head, and red tubes were entwined all over his body; which, if I had to guess, was SIVA coursing through his form. I assumed ether was also couring through him as well. With him he held a Shrapnel Launcher enhanced by SIVA.

This was going to hurt.

“There’s a misunderstanding, Sir O’ Captain,” I said, as if I was trying to show a Fallen goon some level of respect and pragmatic reason. “We don’t have to do this. I’m sorry for killing your friends, but what else was I suppose to do? They attacked me, made me angry, I retaliated. Can you blame me? Look, how about we forget this entire thing happened. You go back where you came from, and I disappear. Whadda say?”

The Captain’s many eyes stared at me in disbelief, and peals of muffled laugher escaped from its mouth. He didn’t response with words, but rather the pull of his trigger, sending hurtful, burning shots in my direction. With no longer intact shields, I could feel the shrapnel burrowing inside my armour. It sent searing pains that extended from the central point of impact to my lower extremities, causing me to falter to the ground. The most I could do in such a weakened state was shadestep to the left and get behind a rusty truck.

I focused my mind into the Void and conjured up two Vortex Grenades and tossed them at the Captain, hoping it would be enough to wipe out his shield, but it barely did a quarter of what I was hoping. This wasn’t good. I was practically pinned down by a drugged up enemy, what else is next, a Skiff coming in with reinforcements?

I knew I should’ve kept my big mouth shut. Why does this always happen? Am I bad luck or something? Bloody hell!

A Skiff appeared in the air, right above the Captain, and more Vandals and a few Shanks were being deployed, whereupon the ship had vanished into the sky.

“Ghost, could you get Paledon on the comms? He’s not that far away, and I could use a bit of help taking out these goons.”

“I’ll do my best, but a storm is brewing up. Might take a bit of time before—”

In the distance, I could hear a constant rumble noise, as if it were some automobile being used, a Sparrow to be more accurate. As the Captain, Vandals, and Shanks kept a steady lock on me while they fired their weapons, I went invisible and rolled on the ground, then discharged some brutal shots at the group, ultimately staggering a few—although not all. I had a feeling who was en route to my position, and there was no reason for me to show weakness when I was about to be aided by a fellow Guardian.

I must’ve emitted 12 shots in a matter of three seconds. Holy hell, I never knew this thing could work like that.

My weapon thundered, each subsequent shot becoming louder and more powerful for whatever reason; but after continuous fire, my weapon ceased to work, leaving me utmost vulnerable until my aid came to the site. I backflipped in the air and landed, my weapon still not ready to fire. I tossed some envenomed smoke bombs, causing the group to dissipate, allowing me to pace my next set of attacks.

But maybe I wouldn’t have to. Maybe I would end up dying right here and be consumed by SIVA.

The Vandals were picking something from their side and it appeared to be a ball of SIVA energy. Must be a grenade or something. Dunno. All I knew was that three of them were being directed at me and they stuck me harder than a sniper shot. I fell to the ground, unable to react. My body, now in shock, was still aching from the journey I had taken and these explosives were not helping. At. All.

I collapsed to the cold ground as I felt the pain as strong as one hundred knives sinking into my stomach. Groaning and yelping with anguish, I writhed about on the floor, clutching my body. My eyes began to water with the sheer pain and my breathing emulated in sharp, shallow rasps. Sweat rilled down the side of my face (I could very well feel it from inside my helmet) and my hearing slowly became distorted; it was as if my body was shutting down.

I was writhing on the ground helplessly. Ahead of me were Fallen, powered by SIVA, and they all cheered in victory for defeating me. The Captain stepped up to me and knelt before me, as if I was a some deity or Prime Servitor.

The Captain raised his weapon to my head, his finger steady on the trigger.

I thought this was it. I was going to die, though surely the Captain knew I could just be revived by another Guardian. Unless he were to take my Ghost away, then I’d be royally screwed.

Eyesight drifted to my weapon—noticing that the shard inside was once blue again and ready to fire. “Nah. You ain’t got jackshit on me.”

Using my left foot, I kicked the Captain in the groin, though it hurt me more than it did him, but it bought me enough time to rise up and fire my Boomer. With the little energy I had left, I dodged my assailant’s attacks, and that’s when my attention snapped to a violent sharp clang of something.

Paledon!

The brute Suncharged his way through the crowd of Fallen; most notably the Shanks fell first, then the Vandals, though there were a few left unscathed. Paledon charged his way to the Captain, and when I saw what he was doing I shouted, “Be careful! Don’t underestimate the strength of that thing!”

Paledon struck the Captain with a force just as great of a train. The Captain flinched tremendously, and Paledon went in for a second swipe to finish him for good, but he made a hard teleport, red streaking in the air, making Paledon miss. After that, Paledon collapsed to the ground from exhaustion, but got up after a moment of recovery.

The Captain opened fired on him, but he seemed to have taken the shots better than I have. He popped a few rounds from his scout rifle, stupefying his target. His opponent reeled back, defenceless, but made a comeback and returned fire.

Tempered by the fires of my iron will, I remained steadfast despite all the pain, all the misery, and stood up. Aimed my Boomer at my prize. I shot rapidly, not caring about how barbarous I was being, because this Captain had it coming to him. Eventually he stumbled to the ground, attempting to claw away from me, but to no avail he didn’t get far. I finished him off with one more uproarious shot. “Maximum effort,” I managed to mumble, while in excruciating pain, before my world faded to black.

Light.

There was some light.

And something soft and fleecy.

As my consciousness swam back into reality, I found myself laying on a mattress, with quilts tucked around me, feeling warm and oddly more rested than I had since before I was on the Dreadnaught. How long had I been out?

I gazed at the clock on the wall. 10:37 p.m.

Well that’s no help. For all I know, I could’ve been out for days. Maybe weeks.

I stirred around in my bed, trying to gather my surroundings. I was back in my room, a familiar, serene place I called home.

“Oh, look who’s finally awake!” The deep voice of someone awfully close to me stunned me into maximum alertness. Gazing up and about, I found Paledon at the foot of my bed, a graceful smile crossing his face. “Sleep well, I hope?”

I rubbed my eyes and stretched a little before returning a smile. “How long was I out?”

“Two days and 16 hours.”

I could feel my eyes dilate in disbelief. “What?! Why was I out for so long?”

“You were very tired. Plus you got hurt out there. That Captain really took a toll on you.”

I tried getting up, but the searing pain from my lower abdomen was enough for me to withdraw my incentive to get up. “Ow!”

“Easy now,” Paledon said, stepping up to me and forcing me (gently) to lay back down. “You need to rest, your injuries are still pretty bad. You had to get a few stitches.”

“I see that,” I said, moving around to make myself comfortable again. “Do we have any luck on pinpointing the whereabouts of SIVA?”

“Hunter…you just woke up.”

“So? Your point?”

“Should you really be worrying about that now?”

I gave Paledon a stern look. “Why not? I’ve been out for almost three days!”

Paledon frowned. “I’m only looking out for you, Hunter. I worry. But it’s only because I care about you. Damn, that sounded cheesy as hell.”

“You’re right, it did,” I said, throwing a pillow at the featherbrain. “Seriously though, did we find anything?”

“We did find something, yes. Pathernax and Kabril are still investigating right now,” he said, throwing the pillow (playfully) back at me. “They found a wall breach in the Rocketyard. Saladin says it leads to a place called the Plaguelands, where the Fallen have set up shop.” A pause. Paledon looked away for a moment, as if to collect his thoughts. Then back to me. “Hunter, these Fallen are called Splicers. They’re the engineers and weaponsmiths, the ones who found SIVA and are using it to their advantage. It’s corrupted them. Changed them.”

“So now what?” I asked, wanting to get up and help ward off these ‘Splicers’. “What’s the plan?”

“Well, Saladin believes we need to strike at every angle we can find. Sever the sources the Splicers are using to channel SIVA and destroy the replication chamber, where all the production is taking place. But even then I don’t think that’ll be enough. There’s something more to all of this. A bigger picture that we’re not seeing.”

“So where is this replication chamber?” I asked.

“We don’t know.”

“Doesn’t Saladin know of its whereabouts?”

“He refuses to tell us anything for whatever reason. But I have a feeling we won’t be able to waltz on in and blow the chamber up. We got a lot of work to do, Hunter. I just hope you’re ready for the challenge.”

“Are you kidding?” I said. “I’m always ready for a challenge. Those goons ain’t no match for me.”

“Indeed. That’s why you had to get stitches administered to you.”

“Shut up.”

There was distressing silence filling the air and it made me snap. I winced and pratically groveled for noise. “What do the others think?” In truth, this was just as scary as when I first encountered Taken, back on Phobos.

Paledon got up from the foot of my bed and walked over to my desk in the corner of the room and leaned against it, hands behind him. “They think the same thing. There has to be some leader in this operation. But who?”

“An Archon, maybe?”

“Could be. We won’t know until we go directly to the heart of the operation. Not the replication chamber, but where SIVA being controlled and distributed.”

I turned slightly. Looked at him. “Why aren’t you out there? With them?”

His eyes kept me still as he came toward me. “Because I’m worried about you.”

“Nonsense! I can handle myself. For the most part. I don’t want you to worry about me. I’ll be fine. I always am.”

Paledon laid next to me, on my bed. His hand cupped my left cheek and my hand met his.

We both smiled at each other.

That smile was always the one sentiment that drove me forward, each new day, each new battle, each new challenge. I remembered it from the day I met him, and that smile was still the same. I suppose some things never change despite how infinitesimal they might be.

But it always made me wonder if smiles were our way of coping with the disturbances that storm within us. I believe laughing is our way of crying and our way of crying is laughing. Do we smile to show appreciation to those we care about, or is it a way to mask the inconceivable truth of life that happiness is a mere illusion, much like love, and we do what we believe alleviates the angst we experience in our daily lives? Or is smiling our way of expression true sorrow that rages to loom to the surface?

Paledon laid down beside me and moved closer. He propped his head up with a palm of his right hand and caressed my cheek, sending tickly chills down my spine.

I winced a bit, but settled down after a second or two.

“I know you’ll be fine,” he finally said reaching for my hand and squeezing it. “But I still worry. I always will.”

I squeezd his hand too. “You’re sweet.”

“No, I’m not. I’m just realistic.”

I let out a relieved breath, my gaze not veering away from Paledon, who was still smiling affectionately. Eventually, my euphoric demeanour dwindled to nothing more than sorrow. It was a phenomenon.

For a moment, after my strange change in emotion, Paledon’s once cheerful smile dwindled to an outlook of hurt and compassion. Something concerning was lingering around in them. There was pain in those eyes, and there was nothing I could do to wipe it out from them. “Hunter, what’s wrong?”

“Paledon,” I said, quietly.

He cupped my cheek and spoke in a tone, soft as sleep. “What is it? You can tell me. Don’t be scared.”

“I…I’ve been thinking about Orion…about what he did to me. About what he did for me.” I sighed. This was the first time I had spoken to anyone about Orion since his death. Paledon leaned closer with interest and apprehension, I was sure of it. “I think I came to terms with everything that had happened.”

“Hunter, what happened to Orion wasn’t your fault.”

I squeezed Paledon’s hand harder. “I take the blame for his death. I’m responsible and I accept that. But I’m not going to dwell on it. Orion would have wanted me to forgive myself and move on with life. At least the Orion I know.”

Paledon kissed me on the cheek. “You know, if he were with us…he’d be so proud of you.”

I smiled again. “You think so?”

“I know so.”

My eyes were slightly damp, and Paledon wiped the tears from them with a thumb. I was silent for a few seconds, my innermost thoughts rising to the surface of the mind, allowing me to be an open book. “Why am I so lucky to have you?”

“I dunno. But what I do know is you need some rest.”

“No…” I said. “What I need is some fresh air. Can you?”

“But you’re hurt,” Paledon said, standing up.

“I’ll be fine. Even if there are stairs.”

A short flight of stairs lead me to my small patio, which had a balcony looking over the Last City. There were eight steps in all, eight steps that I could surely manage, despite the pain in my legs and abdomen.

“Why do you want to do this to yourself?” he asked.

I gritted my teeth. “Because this is how I make progress. How else am I suppose to show you my strength?” Without saying anything more, I waved the covers aside and planted my feet on the ground, then stood.

Paledon stepped forward immediately, his eyes fearful. “Hunter! Your stitches! They’ll tear if you get up.”

“I’ll be fine. I promise.”

“Why are you always so stubborn?”

“Because that’s how we Hunters are. Stubborn. It’s in our blood.”

“Apparently.”

Before Paledon could argue any further, I stepped forward, letting out a low groan as the pain in my legs grew outwardly; my legs shook with each step, but I prevailed. For a horrible moment, I thought my weight would collapse the lower half of my body, but somehow I remained indomitable enough to push forward. My teeth were clenched and sweat pooled down the side of my head, an expression (to Paledon) that was of consternation that standing was beyond my capacity right now.

“You silly Hunter,” Paledon said playfully, stroking the perspiration away with the swipe of his hand.

“Oh, be quiet,” I said, eliciting grunts as I tried climbing the stairs. “You just love the sight of me being shirtless.”

“You’re lucky you didn’t burst your stitches.”

“When have I ever been the one to not take risks? This sure as hell isn’t going to stop me from getting some fresh air.” I paused for a moment, stopping midway, my hand on the rail for support. “You know what? I don’t even care about that. This isn’t about fresh air, or getting out of bed. This is about me proving to myself that even when I am in so much pain…I can handle my own without the help of another. I need to prove that I could’ve stopped Orion’s death.”

“Hunter, you don’t need to do that to yourself.”

Gingerly, still leaning on the rail for support, I took a few tentative steps upward. Each step intensified the pain tenfold: It felt like I was being scotched by the sun as searing pain practically paralysed me and forced me to falter. “Ow!” I grunted aloud, but I remained steadfast in my quest to reach the top. One foot at a time.

Halfway up, I turned my head delightedly at Paledon. The pain in his eyes was obvious, but still I grinned. “See that?”

He nodded; but his expression was still tinged with worry and sympathy, yet he returned the smile, more pleased than fearful this time. “I did.” He leaned in to nuzzle me, and our lips met momentarily, only to drift apart shortly after. “I…”

I stopped. Looked at him. “You what?”

“I…I believe in you,” he said.

The first four steps were relatively easy since, well, I was on the fourth step. Paledon was right beside me, watching me with so much attention.

I had nearly slipped on the fifth step as my footing was a bit wonky, nearly making me tumble. If it weren’t for the rail, I would have fallen.

“You’re going to hurt yourself!” Paledon exclaimed in a panic.

“There’s no point in turning back now. I’ve gotten this far. Going down’s as bad as climbing. I can do this.”

Not wanting to break stride, I took the fifth and sixth steps rapidly, one after the other, before freezing on the sixth with a sharp cry, gritting my teeth to bite back the sound. I snorted, lowering my head and pushing onwards, taking the seventh in absolute silence, my legs shaking horribly.

On the eighth, my strength faltered. Gave up on me. No! Don’t you dare, don’t you fucking dare! I got this far, don’t you dare stop me from proving something so sacred to myself.

But it was as fruitless as growing crops in the gelid mountaintops.

My right leg gave out, and I began to topple backward down the stairs with a horrified gasp of shock.

It seems as though, however, in my providential fortune, Paledon was ready for me. I found myself halted by a burly Titan who cupped my fall with only one arm.

“Don’t you dare fall now,” he said in his deep voice before pushing me to the last step.

That’s when I went all out: I stood on the top step, gasping and shaking as if I had ran a marathon. I was so relieved and euphoric beyond even my normal thrill of victory. I slouched on the floor, weak as ever. “I’m sorry, Orion. I’m sorry for failing you.” I began to feel dolor creep its way toward me as I writhed on the floor, but something soft contacted me, forcing me to look up.

Tears, pooling in my eyes, blurred my vision, yet I could still discern the smile plastered on Paledon’s face. He used a thumb to brush away the sadness I exuded. “Don’t cry. Please. I don’t want to see you in pain.”

I glomped him. “I’m so pathetic.”

He cradled me with warmth and compassion. Rocked me back and forth. You’d think for a person who was built to be a war machine would be a little less understanding. Not true at all. Paledon seemed to understand how important this was to me. He (from what I could discern) knew that this was more than simply climbing a flight of stairs. “You’re human. It’s okay to feel.”

He drew back, then peered at me as if I were an enigma, a stranger. He kissed me lightly on the lips, and I couldn’t help but moan as our tongues shared a caressing, enthusiastic reunion. We pulled back and our foreheads touched—our lips just mere spaces apart.

Something within me kindled, and I wanted to express the L word right now, but I couldn’t. I wasn’t ready to utter that word. It’s amazing how much one word can change everything, especially if it holds true.

I said nothing.

We opened the sliding door to the balcony and leaned against the railing, gazing up at the array of stars in the sky. The moon, along with our lovely Traveler, illumed the Tower and the Last City on Earth. Shafts of light radiated every which way and warmed my heart.

Paledon had pulled me in with an arm, and my head rested on his left shoulder. “I had asked my Ghost something during my trip to the Dreadnaught. I had asked him if Orion is in a better place, away from all this hurt and war.” I graced my gaze upon Paledon. “What do you think?”

“Well…”—he squeezed my hand—“I do think he’s in a better place. Somewhere happy. After all, he always wanted a paradise of his own. Maybe that’s what he’s got in the afterlife.”

“Maybe.”

There was no doubt I was in pain. I was far from healed, both physically and mentally, but right now I didn’t care. The only remedy I ever needed was standing alongside me.

“Can you make me one promise, Paledon?”

He looked at me tentatively. “Of course. Anything.”

I turned around so I faced him, and took his hands in my own. Felt them. “Promise you’ll never leave me.”

A cheeky smile marked his face. “Never. Not even the Darkness can take me away from you.”

Silence.

It had been three nights since that fruitful night.

The next morning I woke up to was grim and overcast with freezing rain thrumming and stuttering as it hurled itself against the windowpane to my room. The occasional bolt of lightning split the sky outside, but it wasn’t sufficient enough to wake Paledon from his slumber. I had been out for a last eight hours since my crazy endeavour to ascend the stairs. The red wine Paledon surprised me with last night (not the night of my endevour to climb the stairs) helped me sleep, too. Atop my desk, on the other side of the room, were two wine glasses and a half-full wine jug. I wasn’t normally the one to drink, but he was treating me to it, so I couldn’t deny his tribute.

With my back padded against the fleecy pillows, I glanced at Paledon. He moved, but didn’t wake up. I laid back down, pulling him closer to me, wrapping my arm around him. He felt perfect, so perfect it made me curious as to why he even existed; after all, perfection doesn’t exist. He was so effing perfect that, when I woke up now, the next day, I realized that I could lose him anytime tragedy strikes, which was something very common nowadays. Perfection is often sought for; something elegant and logical; but in truth nothing can be perfected.

Paledon subconsciously rolled on his back, his breathing steady, and it gave me the opportunity to rest my head on the featherbrain’s chest. I closed my eyes, hoping I’d get a an extra hour of rest, but was disturbed when I heard a knock at my door. Oddly enough, the knock wasn’t enough to wake Paledon up; he was like a rock when he slept.

I displaced myself from comfort and warmth and peeped through the peephole to my door. Great. The Warlock, Pathernax, a medium build human with a bald head, circular glasses, and a tattoo of a Ghost on his right hand, was paying me a visit. Oh, boy. Hmm. What to do. Answer it? Go back to bed with Paledon? Pretend I wasn’t here by being all sneaky and stealthy.

“Hunter,” Pathernax said on the other side, “I can hear you mumbling.”

“Ah, shit.”

With a nudge of the lock, the door swung open, and Pathernax ambled his way in as if he owned the place. “What can I do for you, Path?” I whispered, realizing I had no article of clothing covering my upper body.

Pathernax, wearing his long vestments (it was a signature of what the Warlocks wardrobed) veered his gaze from a sleeping Paledon to me. “So I see you’ve been seeing our friend Paledon? To what and when did this transpire?”

“Shh. Please, why don’t you invade another time, hmm?” I said, my tone saucy.

“Well, it just so happens that now is the best time that attunes to my schedule. So please forgive my ignorance.”

I said nothing.

“So are you going to elucidate why you two are sleeping together?” Pathernax asked, stepping up to my desk and examining/fondling the glass articles and wine jug. “I see you even got alcohol. Must have been one helluva night. Half full, too. Well, I should probably say three nights? Where the hell have you two been? Kabril and I had to stop investigating the source of SIVA until you got two got back.”

“My personal life is none of your beeswax,” I said, silently plopping myself back on the bed. “And to answer your question, I’ve been healing. I was in a lot of pain a few nights ago. I don’t see how that would matter to you anyway.”

“Whoa, what’s with the disrespectful attitude?”

“You know exactly why. But I’m not getting into this right now. What do you want?”

“I just wanted to come by and see how you were doing. But clearly you’re doing great since you and Paledon engaged in coitus last night.”

I jolted up and waved a hand airily. Placed it on my forehead and sighed. “We were not having sex! And besdies, since when do you even care about me?”

“Pfft. Like I’m going to believe that. So far you’ve given me absolutely no reason to believe otherwise. Neither of you have a shirt on, and he’s sleeping in your bed. That’s fairly indicative to me. And I’m going to pretend like I didn’t hear that.”

“Shut up,” I said, pushing him aside from my desk and pouring a small glass of wine.

“Isn’t it a little early for that? If you had any infinitesimal sense, you wouldn’t consume that now.”

“Believe me, I need it right now.”

“Sheesh, I’ll just see myself out then,” Pathernax said, motioning his way to the door.

“Last week.”

Pathernax stopped in his tracks and faced me. “Last week what?”

I put the wine glass down with a muffled clink. “We opened up to one another. Talked a bit. You know how these things go.” I stole a glance at Paledon. “I love him. I do. He just doesn’t know it yet because I’ve refused to tell him out of fear that he’d…”

Pathernax had a surprising look of compassion in his eyes and facial nuance. Normally he was the collected and calm one, distant with emotion; but right now, this moment, as I stood talking, he was somehow different—leaving me unable to pinpoint the reasoning. “That’d he’d what?” His voice was soft.

“Reject me. I mean, he’s my best friend, the best one I could ever ask for, but I fear everything about him, you know? When you wholeheartedly give someone your heart…you give them the ability to hurt you in an instant. He can disband from my fireteam anytime and leave me behind. That’s what scares me most, because then, it’s like all the time we spent together was for nothing. And that’s time I can never get back.”

There was nothing silence between us; the kind of silence that hardens like obsidian.

I took a deep breath and exhaled. “Last night, when we were standing on the balcony enjoying the view…he made a promise to me. He promised to never leave me, that he would always be by my side.”

“And you’re apprehensive if that’s true or not?”

“Yeah…I don’t know why.”

“You’re experiencing true love for the first time.”

“And it’s complicated.” My voice was becoming wretched with emotion and thickened by the rawness.

“May I enlighten you with my vast emotional wisdom?” Pathernax asked, signalling me to take seat with him on the staircase.

I motioned to him. Sat down. “Listen, Hunter, we may not always see eye to eye, given our past, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. Or Paledon. Because I do. I very much do. What I’m about to tell you might be the most obvious thing in the entire universe and you can smite me for it with a million arrows.”

“I’m listening,” I said.

“Be honest with him. Without honesty you got nothing. It’s the most fundamental aspect for a relationship. It triumphs everything that comes before it, believe me. There are many indiscernible truths that I, as a Warlock, am uncertain about in this universe, but this I am sure of. Honesty is what binds a relationship together. Here, take my hands.”

“Okay,” I said, taking my hands in Pathernax’s, after which felt him squeeze down on mine. In truth, I wasn’t sure where he was getting at by holding my hands, believe me, but I went with the flow.

“Think of your love with Paledon as a spiderweb. At first, after the spider weaves the web together, it’s stalwart. That web will never falter so long the spider takes care of it. Now picture yourself as the spider and that web as your love for Paledon. Your web is held together by honesty, along with the smaller things like loyalty, faith, love, and even lust. If you’re dishonest, the web begins to decay. Eventually, after so much wear and tear, the web collapses and you, the spider, fall with nothing left.

“But, if you remain honest with him, you’ll find that that web gets stronger. Unbreakable. You’ll be like a Striker Titan about to slam. But you have to make the conscious choice to be honest. He does too. Just be open. Don’t hide anything you want to say. If you do that…problems will engender.”

“So what you’re saying is I shouldn’t hide my true self with him? That’s harder than it sounds. For me, anyway.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because…” I said, getting my thoughts together. “I’m scared of what I’ll become.”

“If you love him, that won’t matter, trust me. You have to love yourself before you can love someone else,” Pathernax said.

“And I do.”

“So there shouldn’t be a problem, then.”

A sudden, intensely awkward silence expanded like a bubble around us, and as much as I wanted to break it, I let apt curiosity decide my actions for once. “How do you know so much about relationships?” I asked, withdrawing from Pathernax’s hold.

“I’m a Warlock, a scholar. I know many things you wouldn’t even dream of knowing. Look. I can tell that you care about the guy. I’m sure he cares about you too. Don’t screw up. What you two have is rare nowadays.”

“Thanks, Path. I rally appreciate the advice.” On impulse I lurched forward and hugged him, then drew back. It seemed to catch him off guard, but he returned the hug. “Sorry about earlier, with me snapping. I can get a little intense in the morning.”

“All is forgiven.”

Paledon stirred a bit in his sleep, and his eyes slowly opened. He was squirming around like a worm. A smile marked his face. “Hey,” he said, giving me a sleepy grin. He looked fragile, like a glass vase, when he woke up.

“Hey you,” I said, leaning down to nuzzle his nose, whereupon planted a kiss on his lips. “How’d you sleep?”

“Decent. Had a bit too much to drink last night, if you ask me.” He got up from the bedding, his back against the pillows. His gaze was fixated on Pathernax. “Oh, hey, Pathernax. How’re you doing?”

“Reasonably well,” Pathernax said, stepping down from the staircase. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I just stopped by to see how Hunter is doing. Clearly he’s in good hands with you.”

“Hehe, that he is,” Paledon said, giving me a glance with a wink.

“Now I should really go. There is much work to be done, and it’s not going to complete itself. I’ll see you two later.”

When he reached the door and unfastened the latch, he glanced at me. “Hunter, don’t forget about what we conversed about.” He winked at me then found his way out.

I plopped myself on the bed and let out the most dramatic, loudest sigh. “God, I love and hate that guy.”

Paledon turned around, blankets covering his upper body. “What did he mean by that?”

“By what?”

“C’mon, don’t play silly with me. You two talked about something. What was it.”

“Relationship advice,” I said with haste.

“Really? What about?”

I was getting annoyed. I gritted my teeth and I wanted to snap a little, though my reasoning for becoming aggravated was unascertained, but I kept my composure. If anything, I was getting vexed at myself, not at Paledon. “Don’t worry about it. It’s nothing to worry about.”

“If you say so,” Paledon said, jumping out of bed and grabbing his shirt then armour. “So. How you feeling?”

I hopped out of bed. “Like a million Glimmer. It’s amazing how much a good night’s rest can do for settling pain.”

“Ready to go see what the Plaguelands is all about?”

“You betcha.”

I looked at him, a long searching look, then smiled a little sadly, straightened up, and suited up myself. I watched as he slipped his gauntlets on at the foot of my bed, and suddenly I felt a great wave of remorse for the inconvenience and the pain I was giving myself for not telling him the truth.