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The air around the purple-clad Guardian howls as it carries snow and a chilling bite, blowing around her at the mountain’s crest. Not for the first time, her cloak is whipped up by the freezing gusts, lifting the warmth away from her body. A shiver coursed up her spine, prompting her to hastily reach for the violet fabric and pull it back around her.
“Casper?”
[Yes, Myss?]
“What’s the Reef like?”
[The Reef is a graveyard of old ships in the Asteroid Belt, where the Awoken live, and where you’re originally from.]
“I know all that, but what’s it like?”
[…I don’t really know, to be honest. I’ve never been. All I’ve heard is stories.]
“Then tell me those.”
[It’s highly protected territory. The Awoken don’t like anyone that’s not them. I believe the Queen gave all Awoken a single chance to return to the Reef when the City was being built, but none heeded her call. Likely no one remembered her, or didn’t have any attachment or loyalty to the Queen once they had been revived. I’ve heard that she wasn’t very welcoming to Guardians that requested an audience with her, and even less so to risen Awoken that had aligned themselves with the City. The Light brought too much attention to her home and her people.]
“Do you think she’d have any lenience for one of her former commanders?”
[Doubtful. She’d probably see you as one of the highest traitors. It’s also rumoured that she’s dead.]
“Oh… is there any word on how they’re surviving?”
[We assume well. The Vestian Outpost is still open.]
“Vestian Outpost?”
[The gateway all outsiders must pass through before entering the Realm of the Awoken. Guardians often pick up bounties there, and a few combat contests run from there as well.]
“So we’re allowed there, but no further than that unless the matters are urgent?”
[Presumably so, but sometimes not even then.]
“I wonder if I’d be recognized there.”
[Well, there’s nothing really stopping us from visiting. You still use the same name, and you have your necklace.]
“We’ll have to head out there once we’re done with this.”
[ Speaking of, we’re almost there. Just a few hundred feet more.]
She trudges forward, boots crunching in six inches of snow, until she spots her goal. A rusted, nearly destroyed, Awoken Galliot sitting against the rock face, covered in a foot of snow. Thankfully, the snow did not block the large breach in the hull that served as an entrance.
An entrance that was once an exit.
“Well. Here we are.” She exhales, placing a hand on her chest. “Where it all began.
Casper gives an acknowledging whir, but says nothing.
“You sure the snow won’t give way this time?”
[Oh my Light, Myss!] Casper trills in annoyance. If he was corporeal, he’d have rolled his optic.
Myss giggles, continuing towards the hull’s breach, ducking and removing her hood as she enters. She takes a moment to drink in the hull’s battered appearance, to commit it to memory, and crouches down to lightly brush a hand against the spot where she was risen. Where she died.
“What did I look like?”
[You were dead, so not good. Mummified, almost.]
“Eugh.”
[The cold will do that to a body. Your hair even held its shape.]
“Of course it did.” Her glowing eyes roll in response as she stands, quickly moving to examine the rest of the ship.
She climbs up to the seat she once commanded a company of soldiers from, and sits on the violet chair. It feels foreign to her, unlike any ship she’s piloted in her short life as a Guardian. A few buttons on the console are pressed out of curiosity and, obviously, there’s no response from the dead ship. Casper is summoned to her palm, and is set free over the dash.
“Give this a quick scan while I search the back.” She instructs, climbing out of the chair. “I’m sure there’s something stored in there.”
[You got it.] He chirps as he gets to work.
Myss clambers to the back of the ship, and finds the majority of it filled with snow. She pitches a Solar grenade at the pile, hoping to help it melt while she searched the unobstructed parts of the ship.
A few books are found on a shelf on the wall opposite the pilot’s chair, some baubles that likely once decorated her clothes, and a bed whose covers had deteriorated. Attached to the inside of the main bunk were several printed photos, an unusual and ancient method. As she scanned them, there are several faces she does not recognize, but there are a few she does.
One in particular.
“Fuck.” She exhales in frustration, taking the offending photo from the wall. It looked not unlike a certain one her Ghost kept in his memory banks, of the moments after she discovered that she was a Nightstalker.
Except this one was much more intimate.
[I was just about to show you that.] Her Ghost says quietly, floating up gently behind her. [The ship’s memory had stored digital versions of these.]
“Could we have been anymore of a goddamned cliché?”
[Probably not.]
Myss groans, rubbing her eyes before pocketing the photo. “There’s a few other ones here as well. I’m sure I’ve run strikes with a couple of these guys.” She examines the series of pictures closer. “Wait, is this me?!”
[It looks like you!] Casper whirs and chirps as she pulls the photo from the wall. [She’s got your markings, and your smile. See, her teeth are coming in!]
“It is me. And I’m being held.”
[By your mother, most likely.]
“Yeah…” Myss pauses, staring at the photo. “I wonder if she’s still alive.”
[I don’t know. It’s more about if she’ll still accept you now.]
“I guess there’s only one way to find out.”
[If they let you in.]
“True.” Myss backs away from the sleeping area, but not before also pocketing the baby picture, and turns her attention back to the rest of the hull. The solar grenade’s done its work, having melted a decent amount of snow, enough to expose a very large banner with the Queen’s Mark that was hanging from the ceiling.
“Well, this could be useful.”
[For what? You’ve already committed to wearing that cloak, and it’s too large for anything else.]
“I’m going to bring it to the outpost with me, as additional identification.”
[You sure a piece of fabric found in a wrecked ship will be enough to convince them?]
“I don’t know, Cas. But it’s worth a shot.”