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Crimson Days is known amongst Guardians as a time to come together and celebrate companionship, most often with healthy competition in the Crucible. Its occurrence, she’s heard, is rooted in a pre-Golden Age holiday emphasizing love, romance, and roses. So many roses. She really hopes that Guardians aren’t risen with allergies.
It’s blissful in the Tower. Guardians and their partners are attached at the hip as they collect their rewards from the innumerable Doubles matches they’ve competed in. Centuries-old friends are performing elaborate handshakes they’ve practiced millions of times. New friendships and partnerships are being forged after the aptly-named Matchmaking System brought them together for Doubles.
Myss wished she could feel the bliss as strongly as the others did.
She’s in her civvies and cloak, staring aimlessly over the city from the antenna above Shaxx’s corner, having just turned in an obscene amount of tokens after several hours of Doubles. She and Warcry had played a few matches - and dominated - before he ultimately departed to instead play with Mahala. That’s okay with her, they were married, after all. It’s only appropriate for them to compete together.
The Matchmaker had not been so kind to her, however. And so, she’s taking a break.
“What’s on your mind?” Comes the unusually soft-spoken voice of the orange Titan, once he has a minute, of course. She hasn’t heard him speak like that since before the war. “I expected you to jump right back in the arena after you were done with me.”
“It’s nothing, Lord Shaxx.” Myss waves him off, continuing her idle staring. “I’m just taking a break. Doubles can be pretty draining, especially when the Matchmaker doesn’t like you.”
“Has it been pairing you with kinderguardians, again?” He questions, his voice returning to its usual level. “Arcite!”
“No, no. Leave Arcite alone.” She smiles at the frame, who seems confused. “It’s not his fault, the synergy’s just not there with random matches.”
“Are you sure?” The Titan replies. “If the Matchmaker’s working properly, then why are your matches terrible?”
“There’s so many new Guardians, so many who’ve only known the new Crucible, and even more who weren’t around for the last Crimson Days.” The Hunter rationalizes, as she’d tried to after each losing match. “But, that doesn’t mean they can’t learn! I mean -“ She’s getting irate as she remembers. “- how hard is it to stick together ?! Stand beside me! Watch my back and I’ll watch yours! It’s not that hard to figure out!”
“I love that passion, my Lady Redjack!” Shaxx responds gleefully. “Though I do hope your matches improve. Crimson Days is a time to celebrate companionship! You’ve got strong bonds, you should use them.” A few moments pass as the Titan helps a new wave of Guardians. “Speaking of strong bonds, where’s Warcry?” He asks, turning back to the sulking Hunter. She and the Warlock usually teamed up for these events, but he hasn’t seen him in several hours.
“Right here?” A confused, accented voice says from the entrance of the carpeted area. Myss is desperately hoping she isn’t spotted on her perch.
“Ah! There you are!” The Titan greets. Though, upon noticing the Warlock’s pink partner, he changes his approach. “I was just wondering when you were going to show up to collect your rewards! Surely you have a mountain to turn in.”
The Warlock raises a suspicious brow. “Uh-huh. That’s why we’re here.” Though, he’s keen to what’s really going on.
Mahala is as well. “Myss?” She calls. “Have you been up there all day?”
“No!” The Hunter replies immediately, keeping her eyes on the Traveler. “About half an hour.”
“Bad matches?” Warcry asks.
Myss pauses. “...Kind of.”
There’s silence, but Shaxx breaks it a moment later. “You said you were here to collect rewards, right? Don’t keep me waiting!”
The couple follow his orders, retrieving several rewards as the Hunter reluctantly removes herself from her perch to join her fireteam.
“We’re going to get some dinner.” Mahala places her hand to Myss’ upper arm. “Why don’t you come drown your frustrations in some Spicy Ramen?”
It does sound nice, and Myss never turns down ramen. Bidding goodnight to Shaxx, the trio make their way to the Bazaar.
The taller Hunter trails behind the couple, who walk arm-in-arm the whole way, and she can’t help but feel like her solitary self sticks out like a sore thumb. Her eyes keep involuntarily wandering towards the Traveler, even throughout dinner.
“Isn’t that right, Moose?” The accented voice interrupts her staring.
She blinks, turning her attention back to her fireteam. “Sorry, what’s right?”
“The amount of kinderguardians who think Prometheus Lens can work like a Ghostlight.” He chuckles, stealing a look at Mahala before looking back at her.
“Oh, right.” Myss smiles. “Yeah, that was pretty funny.” She looks down at her nearly untouched ramen, but her attention is soon back on the Traveler.
The couple share a concerned look, unsure if they should ask. Myss’ eyes appear forlorn, longing, heavy, as she stares out at their protector. It’s unlike her to be so sad, especially during such an upbeat holiday.
Mahala’s the one to break the silence. “Are you okay, Myss?” She asks, placing a hand gently over the other’s. “What’s on your mind?”
The purple Hunter doesn’t want to respond, fearing that her fireteam will blame themselves for her mood. She shakes her head, retracts her hand, and resorts to playing with her untouched ramen again.
“Myss.” Warcry says a little more forcefully. “Talk to us, please. We’re your fireteam. We’re here for you, no matter what.”
The Hunter blinks a few times, inhaling deeply. “I just--” She sighs, lightly lifting a hand. “Everyone… has someone - You two have each other. I mean, I do have you guys but…” Her arms cross. “It’s not the same.”
“Myss…” Mahala says softly, reaching for her arm again.
“I’m sorry, guys.” Myss whispers, pushing herself from the table and rising to her feet. “I’ll see you back at the Temple.” Is her quick goodbye, and she’s off only moments later.
“Myss!” The concerned pair both call after her, but ultimately decide to let her be.
“The first Crimson Days after losing someone she loved.” Warcry eventually says. “It must be so hard for her right now.”
Mahala nods. “I can’t imagine.”
Myss gets several hundred feet before she comes to a stop, leaning against one of the stone alleys. She’s away from the crowds of paired Guardians, and likely out of earshot as well.
Thoughts of what could have been are swirling in her mind, viciously mocking her as another pair of gleeful Guardians, oblivious to her troubled presence, pass outside of the alley.
“Shut up.” She whispers to her head, frustratedly slamming the back of her fist against the wall she leaned on. “Stop it!” She fights it, but her eyes eventually fall on her glowing pendant, and her resistance against the oncoming despair shatters.
With a loud, angry cry, she plunges her fist into the wall opposite of the one she leaned on, leaving a sizeable dent at the point of contact. A moment later, she yells again, the flat side of her other fist making softer, but no less frustrated, contact with the stone. Her wails morph into sobs as she collapses against the damaged wall of the dark alley.
She wants to move on. She doesn’t want to be sad anymore. She was fine until that Hive strike, until she was vividly reminded of what feeling both love and loss in the span of minutes was like. She had attempted to give herself closure during that mission, but it wasn’t enough. Now, the loss and the events of the strike constantly haunt her, like a picked scab that won’t stop bleeding.
Only now does she realize that she never got a proper chance to grieve. Being thrust into Guardian life only hours after she lost Seraph was an effective way to bury her feelings, but the wall wouldn’t hold forever like that.
Something begins to break through her sadness, and her eyes are back on the Traveler. Myss is feeling some sort of pull, but it’s very faint. She’s not entirely sure if it’s actually something beckoning her, or if she’s regaining her mental clarity. Either way, she begins making her way to the Guardian Dorms, but she doesn’t intend to sleep.
By the time Myss reaches the communication tower on the roof of the dormitories, darkness has fallen over the Last City. Pink-tinted light emanates from below, illuminating the Traveler and the Tower, highlighting the copious amount of rose petals flowing off of the latter. She can see a Crucible match taking place in Midtown below, and hears muffled songs emanating from the Tower.
The pull feels stronger now, her eyes still on the Traveler as she begins to scale the communication tower she most often used as her perch. About a third of the way up, she hears a new, faint melody, and her chest begins to burn. It’s familiar. She keeps climbing.
As Myss begins to reach the top of the tower, the melody is clear, and is all she can hear. She makes it to the top, but can’t find a source for the music. This spot is as high up as she can get currently in the Tower, the altitude bringing a cool chill on the wind.
The moments drag on, but the source is never found, the tune growing more painful in her ears. As her confusion becomes frustration, she turns towards the Traveler, and screams.
“Why?!” The Hunter shouts at the floating orb, though it’s likely drowned out to the others by the wind. “Why did you call me here?!”
The music, as if it was a memory on repeat, is beginning to irritate her. “Why did you let me live?! Why did you choose me?!” Her vision is turning red, from more than the glow that the City was bathed in.
“Why did you take her from me?!”
Of course, the Traveler doesn’t answer.
“I don’t want to be lonely anymore!” She cries out into the darkness. “I’ve got friends - family! People I can trust, people that care about me, and I still feel like I’m alone!”
Myss covers her ears - as if that would help muffle the nostalgic tune - and leans on the tower’s edge. “Make it stop!” She cries in frustration, her rage quickly turning to misery once again.
“Give her back!”
Throughout her tirade, Myss failed to notice her crystal pendant - glowing brighter than before - slowly lifting itself off of its usual place against her breast. She notices now, just as the chain threatens to pull over her head.
“No!” She shouts, grasping the jewel in her hands. It doesn’t budge. “Let it go!” She demands of the unknown force as her hands begin to burn, feeling as hot as if she was holding a flaming coal instead of her pendant.
“Leave me alone!”
She can’t hold onto it any longer.
When she releases the crystal, Light bursts forth from it, and she fears that it shattered. Instead, the Light quickly concentrates and forms into a humanoid shape - a familiar one. The music in her head fades. The warmth of pure Solar-attuned Light surrounds her, making contact with her cheeks as the face of the humanoid forms.
It couldn’t be. Impossible...
“Myss!” The glowing shape somehow says.
“Seraph…?” Myss whispers in awe. “You’re…” She has one hand and one foot on the tower’s rungs, the rest hanging off so she can get closer to the image of her lost love. “How…?”
“I’m not sure.” The Light replies with a sigh. “But I’m here.”
“You’re here.” Myss confirms with a whisper, tears spilling down her cheeks as she stares longingly at Seraph’s form. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“I know. But I’ve never left you.” She replies softly. “You took my stolen Light and made it your own.” She smiles. “You saved me from those Hive.”
“But I couldn’t save you. I want you.” Myss retorts, frowning slightly. “I want you - need you - back.”
“I know. But I can’t come back.” Seraph’s Light replies sadly. “Our Light is one now.” Her form leans forward, making contact with Myss’ forehead. “I’m still here. No matter what. Don’t forget that.”
Myss’ lips worry together, more tears spilling over as Seraph moves her head away, the vivid warmth with her. “I never got to tell you that I loved you.”
If the Light of a fallen guardian could cry, she would. “I didn’t either.” Seraph’s smile grows impossibly larger.
The pair speak in unison, surprising each other. “I love you.”
“…Can I kiss you?” Myss asks, confident in Seraph’s answer.
Seraph nods enthusiastically with a broken, happy breath. “I can touch you, so we can try.” Wasting no time, she brings their heads close again, and their lips make contact. Slowly, they move against the others’ and, barely a minute later, they part.
“I don’t want this to be over.” Myss laments, smile fading. She wishes she could bring this moment down from this tower, but she knows she can’t. But she does have an idea that could prolong the moment. She calls on Casper.
[I’m not going to question this miracle. Hello, Seraph!] The Ghost greets as he appears over his Guardian’s shoulder. [What can I help you two with?]
“Seraph, would you sing for me, please?” Myss pleads. “I promise I won’t fall asleep.”
Casper understands immediately, and he’d start recording if he hadn’t already been doing that the whole time.
Seraph laughs and nods, taking a moment to think. When she does start to sing, it’s a brand new melody.
The bliss Myss was craving earlier is now in excess, spilling out of her as tears. The wind’s died down now, and Seraph’s singing echoes over the wall for the next several minutes. It’s over too soon.
The pair sit in comfortable, companionable silence, foreheads resting against one another, until the Light’s warmth begins to weaken.
“It’s fading.” Seraph warns, tightening her hold on Myss’ cheeks.
“Will I be able to see you again?” The other asks frantically.
“I don’t know.” Seraph answers earnestly. “I think it’s the Traveler… but I’m not sure what made it amplify my Light tonight.”
After a moment of thought, Myss has an epiphany. “Crimson Days.” She replies. “The love the festival brings must have had something to do with it.”
“That’s got to be it.” Seraph says with a nod, the chill growing between them. “I won’t be gone.” She states forcefully. “Remember that. I’m still here.”
“I’ll remember.” Myss promises, reaching for the other’s face, trying to hold on to what little was left. “But I’ll still miss you.”
“I’ll miss you too.”
The warmth dissipates, her pendant falls, and Myss is left alone, hanging over the edge of the wall. There’s rose petals on the chilly wind that she hadn’t noticed before, swirling around the tower she was perched on.
Her hand goes to her softly glowing pendant, which she picks up to examine. All this time, the answer was right in front of her, hanging around her neck.
“She’s here.” Myss reminds herself with a soft smile, turning towards the Traveler.
“You gave her back to me. Thank you.”
She doesn’t know if anyone else had witnessed what transpired at the top of the tower and, once she thinks about it, doesn’t really care. Whatever happened was a miracle in her own eyes, and the perfect amount of closure that she needed.
Slowly, Myss makes her way down the metal scaffolding, re-entering the dorms from the door on the roof. She pulls out Casper to prepare for transmat to her ship.
[That was… something I never thought was possible.] Casper chirps, twitching slightly. [You sure you’re okay?]
“I’m sure.” She confirms, wiping the last remnants of tears from her eyes. “I’ve never felt better.”
[I’m glad. Ship’s above us. You ready to--]
Casper’s interrupted as their fireteam’s Warlock steps out from around a corner in his civvies. His outfits always looked like he’d raided a Golden Age Hot Topic.
“Ahh, There you guys are! I’ve been across the entire Tower looking for you. I was--” Warcry clears his throat, “I had a feeling that you were in need of company tonight. I couldn’t help but be concerned after you ran off in the midst of dinner.” In part, this was the truth, but Emrys had detected a fluctuation of Light that they both determined needed investigating. So naturally, they had seen the event that had transpired on the roof, but he wasn’t about to let her know that just yet. “Are you okay?”
“I just… went to get some fresh air.” Myss’ hand goes to her pendant. “And some closure. I’m feeling much better now.”
“Closure is always good for the heart, especially if you want it to heal.” The Warlock replies, his eyes flickering back up to the sky. A moment passes before he continues. “I know that current events are tough for you, what with the festivities and today in particular, but know that we are here for you. No matter what the cost was, is, or shall be. It’s what being part of our little family comes with.”
Myss smiles softly, wrapping the Warlock in a tight hug. “Thanks, Warcry. I’m sorry I’ve been so distant. I guess I’m jealous that you two have each other and I don’t have anyone.”
“No one?” Warcry chuckles as he releases her. “Tuólù, are you quite certain of that? Or…” He decided now was as good as any time. “…do I already need to remind you of what just happened up there?” A small, knowing smile formed in the corner of his mouth.
Myss’ mouth goes slightly ajar, her voice turning to a bashful whisper as she looked away. “…You saw that?”
“Just barely, but I can promise that what she said to you, what you said to each other, was kept private between you and her alone.” He looks up at his friend, nudging her lightly in the ribs. “Though, I know that she means more to you than anything I can possibly imagine.”
Myss smiles earnestly, sadly, wrapping her arms over his shoulder again before they begin walking back towards the new Tower.
“Hey, how about this for a crazy thought.” Warcry begins. “We can go do Doubles all day tomorrow, just the two of us.”
“You sure Mahala won’t mind?” The Hunter asks, surprised by the whole ordeal but delighted at the proposition.
“She’s going to be quite busy tomorrow back up at the Temple, there are a few refugees there that wanted to train under her.” The Warlock chuckles. “We went in earlier today just to say we did it, and got out as soon as she got the items she wanted. You know how she is when it comes to her shopping.”
“The Queen’s Thorn is damn picky…” Myss whispers in understanding.
“Mhmm.” Warcry laughs as he holds up a small, neatly folded piece of paper. “What can I say, I’m a sucker for helping her get what she wants.”
“Sometimes I think she doesn't deserve your kindness…” She smiles and strolls up to the Crucible registry board, nodding towards Shaxx. “So, you know I’m ready and willing to show you up, Lord Midori.” She turns to him and takes a deep, sarcastic bow.
“Uh huh.” He returns the flourish in kind. “Don’t be surprised if I carry you again, Lady Myss.”
“Free up some memory, Lord Shaxx.” Myss calls with a laugh, pumping her fist as the Titan would. “You’re going to have a lot to record tomorrow.”