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A Warmind's Son

Chapter 11: Wolves And A Raven

Summary:

Brash, foolish or reckless was all Felwinter could claim his choice of leading wolves into his home. He accepts all the consequences if it means his people are safe.

They are more than halfway to the village, the smoke in the sky is long gone as the peak gets larger and larger. It is nearly silent as Felwinter carries the sleeping girl in one arm and holds the boy's hand with the free one.The three Iron Lords behind him guard the five injured victims, one wears his cape for warmth and another: an Exo, holds them steady. They seem to know each other based on the way they talk.

Quickly, Hati becomes restless and far too energetic for someone who came from a traumatic situation. Children are so quick to move from one thing to another, it makes Felwinter envious. With a promise to stay close he lets go of the boy's hand so that he can wander freely within sight. 

“So this village of theirs…” Lady Efrideet begins, she watches the boy run about carefully like her words. “Is there enough space for them?”

“Barely.”

An awkward silence stretches for a time. Tension is still strong between them all. With a huff Felwinter speaks again in an attempt to ease what thin alliance has tethered them together. “They have been under my care for nearly two and a half decades. There is running water, food and the means to protect themselves.”

“What do you get out of protecting them?” It is said harshly like an attack and yet Lord Saladin keeps his voice low enough to not wake the sleeping child. His friend tells him that he's been elbowed by Lady Efrideet for it.

“A home.”

There is a gruff sound before the response that he assumes is approval. “And are you willing to share that home?”

Felwinter pauses for a moment and looks at the two children who had been harmed under his care then forward to the ash that covers the entrance to the village. “I am willing to do whatever it takes to meet their needs.” Felwinter turns to face him as the mighty ring of bells come from the village, stating their arrival. “Are you?”

The noise wakes the tired girl and Felwinter lets her stand on unsteady feet, she had sprained her ankle badly. Hati runs into a man who waits far in front of the village; their father. With a hand at her back and her hand curled around his other arm, they walk to him and reunite. Felspring eyes him wearily and then looks to the Iron Lords who shepherd the new people closer. 

There is fear and there is acceptance in her blue colored soul. It is one that Felwinter wishes she didn’t have to accept and one that he wishes they both can run from. He presses past and discusses with some of the leaders of being open to accepting the five. Thankfully they do a kindness on them and allow them through. 

They ask the other Lighbearers, if they are safe, are they hostile, is Felwinter okay? He promises that they will be fine, but dodges each concern of his own safety. It is a question he isn’t sure about yet. Time will tell and he is running out.

Felspring doesn’t hide from the looks of the Iron Lords, she stays beside him and tells him that most belongings and all bodies have been claimed. Further clean up would come tomorrow when the sun rises again, today too much ash has been poisoned under finger nails to continue.

“Shall we discuss?” Felwinter asks in a louder voice. It breaks whatever focus they had on him. 

Lord Radegast looks to him and agrees. “Suppose we should, is everything settled?” Lady Efrideet and Lord Saladin have taken it upon themselves to help the refugees get in order. Felwinter allowed it in hopes that his people can see for themselves that they aren’t in danger.

“What can be fixed is done, what couldn’t will be tomorrow.”

The man hums in thought. “This wouldn’t be a bad place for a base of operation.”

There is an irony in the fact Felwinter thought similarly years ago. He does not make it known.

“I only have one request other than the one you promised.”

The man's red eye brows furrow into a stern expression. “Oh? What would that be?”

Felwinter folds his hands behind his back to appear as though the words that would leave his mouth would be a simple request. “Give up on your search for SIVA.”

“You want us to give up on a technology that could save hundreds?” Lord Radegast states slowly. As if he had to slow his words to comprehend what is being asked of him.

“It could kill a thousand more.” Felspring was quick to defend Felwinter. “What part of humanity would you sacrifice because it would take more than yourselves.”

Felwinter raises a hand in mimicry to the gesture Lord Radagast gave him. “I am not asking you to stop utilizing Golden Age technology, just let go of this one.” The sun is no longer in view from the valley where they stand. “I’ll give you time to think. We can return to it later.”

Lord Radegast seemed grateful for the option of time. It was strange the way he looked at the village in search of his comrades. “Are you not the leader of the Iron Lords?”

He lets out a soft laugh, “No, I am not. We are all equals, how can we not act as we preach to others.”

Felwinter eyes him for a moment before turning around to see the two Lords return. “Hypocrisy is the disease we all tend to carry, Lord Radegast. The world cares not for your intentions.”

Nothing else can be said as Lady Efrideet comes with an almost giddy attitude. “So is it all done, are you one of us?”

“No.” Felwinter says quickly.

“Not yet.” Lord Radegast assures. “We will all discuss this privately.”

“Ah, so are we still going up or?“ Lady Efrideet eyes the peak as she attempts to see his home.

“I will warn you that the climb can be rigorous.” Felwinter states plainly as he walks past, he leads the way.

“Perfect.” There is a wicked tone in her voice and just behind Lord Saladin takes his helmet off to whistle loudly. The steps of wolves join them soon enough. “So Warlord Felwinter,” Lady Efrideet starts kindly. “What the fuck is that behind your helmet?”

Felwinter for a moment was confused. “A Warlord's Ghost. They're a friend now.”

“Very useful too.” Felspring quips.

“You should put it out of its misery.” Lord Saladin states, eyeing the back of his helm, wolves begin to press against his hands for attention.

“When they ask for it I will, they haven’t yet.” Felwinter passes them to begin the trek up but pauses for a moment to look back. Lord Radegast placed a hand on his shoulder, he did it slowly enough for Felwinter to see and react to the action. He let it land.

“Would you mind baring your face to us.” The man tilts his head down at him.

Felwinter looks to the hand and then the man before tilting his head to mimic him. “Why?”

Lady Efrideet already passed them and lengthened her stride to go up. “You know you can tell a lot about a person based on their face.”

Felwinter slips from the grasp to follow her. “Hm, someone told me something similar, how you can know someone based on their eyes. I am not one of those."

“So is that a yes?” Lady Efrideet climbs over a large rock, her foot kicked off snow in the process. 

Felwinter thinks for a moment. “A no, for now.” 

That got her attention. “Good, that means I won't have to wait long. You already have the whole Iron Lord get up already.” Her voice could only be described as cheeky.

“You trust so easily.”

Lord Saladin huffs, “Same could be said for you.”

“That's so?” Felwinter knows he's right, but admitting it was more dangerous than the trust itself. Tension returns and nothing more is said for a time.

“Now you got to tell me where you got your gun.” Lady Efrideet says as they pass over a bridge at the top of the peak. One Felwinter added for convenience as near the top the flat land splits in two.

“Made it.” There is a simple pride in being able to make something that protects his people and himself. A selfish feeling he allows to have a place in his chest.

“You're joking.” She looks back at him. “You got a forge up here?”

“Crude and small, but yes.” Felwinter decides best to continue. “I myself utilize old Golden Age text to better my people and myself on occasion. There is nothing wrong with knowing more, just knowing what not to chase.”

“What if the risks are worth it.” Lord Radegast states, another test of how Felwinter bends.

Felwinter pauses before changing route of where he leads them, to the observatory to a cliff. “SIVA is not worth all of this.” He sweeps his hand across the horizon, a familiar view that encapsulates the sun and the settlement below.

“You see this everyday?” Lady Efrideet whispers.

Felwinter simply nods and lets them take in the view for a moment. Soon all their Ghost slips out of hiding to watch it, that is more trust than removing a helmet. He does nothing to make the trust given.

Felwinter can see their exhaustion, one that mirrored his own when he first climbed the mountain. Nothing physical but entirely mental, he is sure they could handle the climb but there must have been more to their days that made this a final straw. They cover it well.

Only when the sun falls does Felwinter speak up. A wolf nudges his leg, “Let us go inside. We can discuss further where the cold won’t lock your armor.” The wolf begins to pant trying to get what is in Felwinter's pocket. The Warlord reaches in and touches a finished telescope, bone fills in where metal can’t. The gift that was meant for the girl. The wolf's face makes him feel uncomfortable as it is eerily similar to the pups faces in the dream.

It quickly loses interest when it doesn’t get the attention it wants. It relieves Felwinter greatly.

“Yes I think we should.” Lord Radegast said with curiosity as he watched the wolf trott away.

The carved fortress in the mountain has since then been fixed of its holes and cracked walls. Felwinter treated it as an experiment to do something similar to his people, when they build their walls, fetch their water, grow their food and make their colors for clothes and leather. Felwinter would in turn mimic and do the same. Repetition provides comfort to the restless.

Yet the halls were still empty sounding even with the sound of boots and metal crackling against the cold ground like the fire lite lights.

“Wait a second.” Behind him he could hear Lady Efrideet backstep and peek her head into a room. “YOU HAVE A THRONE!”

When Felwinter turns around he is met with arched brows from the two other Lords. They enter the room and the scene is quite humorous as the Iron Lady drapes herself over the throne with glee. 

“I didn’t think you of all people would have a throne, I mean you are going to have to get rid of it.” She says while she kicks her feet. 

“The previous Warlord had a talent in wood carving. Made most of the furniture you’ll find here, I did not make it.”

“Yet you kept it.” Lord Saladin says, he voice is back to being accusatory. Felwinter is still just a Warlord and so he bites in response.

“Hadn’t had a good reason to get rid of it. I still don’t.” He isn’t sure if that is the response that surprised Lord Saladin but there was just something off of his reaction. It was, unexpected. There was supposed to be anger or a sharp retort, not that expression.

Damnit.

“The throne represents why I am here.” Felwinter opens himself up to a story, an explanation to those who are akin to his ideas, like a spark hoping to catch fire. Endlessly flying and dying out in the cold breeze of nothingness. “There is a story of a battle etched into the wood, fictional or not there is something to be asked at the end. Why do we keep repeating the past?”

There is that tiredness that aches him, he wants to run from this. But he can’t leave his people to chance, consequences be damned. “When Lord Timur told me of your ideas, I thought it to be a dream. One that will fall like every other. Perhaps it still will, but tell me what is it that you hope to achieve in the end?”

You want to join them? Felspring asks softly.

‘I saw a dream, a fraught thing that ended with me dead. It pulls me in like a tethering tide and I am weak against it.’ Felwinter states with a shaking mind. He could still feel the endlessly cold hands of Rasputin’s toys grabbing him, killing him.

Even if you don’t have to? Her voice carries like an echo in his mind. We escaped death from Rasputin, from Warlords and Fallen. Why except this one?

‘There is choice in acceptance, I choose this because I would rather die for a stupid dream than die dreamless.’ 

Felspring approves his answer with the weariness that matches a mother. Then let it be one we do together.

“To be what the people need us to be.” Lord Radegast says, “But more than that, to be what we should have always been. Being guardians to humanity and not monsters.“

“How many are there of you, how many have you made believe you? While I can afford this risk, my people can’t.”

“There are ten so far including us. There would be eleven with you.” He responds without hesitation. It is a very stupid thing to do, to tell someone your numbers when they aren’t yet an ally. This man would seem egotistical or prideful if not for his calm demeanor.

“What of SIVA, do you think Lord Timur would give that up?”

There is a huff from Lady Efrideet. “He likes any and all things Clovis Bray, I’m sure that he can let this one thing go. Plus it's for now, yes?”

Felwinter lets out steam from his mouth so he can ground himself for his words. There is a fascination that appears when the steam spills out from his helm.“It won’t be safe enough for SIVA until the Iron Lords goal is complete.”

“Sounds all the better for you to join us.” Her response was quick.

There was indeed no fault in that, but Felwinter still worries. “I suppose so.” Felwinter admits as he looks between them all. “Then as agreed, I relinquish my title and land to the Iron Lords.” He bows his helm enough to show the back of his neck. 

A set of heavy hands grasps his shoulder. “Welcome to the Iron Lords, Iron Lord Felwinter.”

The message was sent by the next morning that another joins the cause and that the Iron Lords now have a base. 

But at the night that he said a pledge and showed them where they can sleep, he stalked his way back down to work. To where familiar headstones and wood carved memories are light by nothing more than the moon and stars. With a shovel he clears snow for the dead and begins to dig. 

Humanity is hurt enough and don’t need the extra dirt on their mourning hands that they will do when the sun rises. He will set up, prepare and protect their softening hearts. They already did so much in having to clean up what is left of burnt homes. 

Felwinter wishes he did not have to do this.

It is a painful guilt to carve holes for those he failed so terribly. The stars know that he had been here long enough to have held one of them as a child and see them rise into an adult. Illness, the cold, Fallen and Warlords or the simple action of being born weak had shortened the lifespan of the people he so vehemently protects and he failed .

This will not make up for it but it would allow him to try. So he places blankets in the beds of dirt so they might not feel cold, gifts so they are adored and an apology so they know that he had never meant to harm. But lastly he offers a small promise that it would not happen again, his last promise as their Warlord, spoken like a soft whisper in the wind, for no one but them to hear.

In the morning none of his people question the gifts and carry on their traditions in seeing their family off, to wherever they go after death. One day he might know, and he would not look back to see how far he's gone. Felwinter plans on making this life and all its hundreds of thousands of choices be one he won’t come to regret.

The Iron Lords would wait at the peak until the others could arrive. Some could arrive by the end of the week and most could by the month's end. It gave little and too much time for Felwinter to be able to accept that soon a near dozen will be living in his space.  

But there have been moments where he is given the opportunity to learn from those he now aligns himself to. Slowly he begins to see their reactions as he shows them his routine of life and how best to know his people.

As said he would, Felwinter's helm was off and attached to him by the hip when he brought them to help his people. They apparently had made a funny expression, if Felspring's reaction was anything to go by, when his face was revealed. Felwinter had gotten used to people not staring, it would be another change he must ready himself for.

“Lord Saladin, wanna bet Lord Timur tries to stick his fingers in Lord Felwinter's mouth.” Lady Efrideet says as she elbows his chest piece loud enough to make a soft clank.

There is a moment where she prodded at him till he eventually gave in and agreed to the bet. Felwinter badly hopes he wins.

Lord Radeast stands next to him. The man is far too kind, stern but kind. It had been easy for Felwinter’s people to make the adjustment. It is what eased him most of the situation. Soon the thought is taken away swiftly as the group of five finally comes into view.

Be nice, Felspring.

Worry about dodging Timur. She quips with mild humor.

The Iron Lords step closer to the oncoming Lords with open arms and with an endearing demeanor. They leave Felwinter behind as he stays put to watch the scene unfold. They are so affectionate, it is obvious that they are bonded by more than the Iron pledge. Was he going to have to be like that?

Soon he is given attention and his body feels as if there is something crawling between his plates. He should have kept his helmet on, or have run far away.

“This is Lord Felwinter, our new brother in arms.” Lord Radegast says with a smile. “He has opened his home to us with two conditions, the priority being that his people fall under our protection.”

The bear-coated man couldn’t even list the other reason before Lord Timur grasped Felwinter's face between palms in excitement. “I knew it!” There was a sharp static in the air as the man continued a ramble of words that Felwinter could not even begin to catch. His mind still reeling from the closeness of this bumbling man.

There is a commotion and Lord Timur is being forced back with a gun to his head, his gun. Someone is trying to talk him down but he only angles his gun down when Felspring speaks. Felspring very worriedly asked if he's alright.

“Fine.” He replied shortly before lowering his voice just to her. “I’m fine.” He leaves to check on arrangements with his people to escape all the noise. There is arguing and he dodges hands trying to touch him. This already feels like a mistake, he should run from this.

Felwinter needs to go check up on his people. Change is not easy and so they decided to make a celebration, to welcome them and to know them. Lord Saladin manages to escape a few minutes later with others and offers to help. They are all so kind, whether they wear it on their sleeve or under their armor. Felwinter knows he's made the right choice but it still baffles him all the same. Is this something he can do?

A part of him wishes to run far again. His people would be fine and Rasputin would not be able to stop him, catch him. There are other options than this.

“Are there always so many children?” Lord Saladin asks quietly, as if breaking the silence hurts. The man doesn’t even look away from the pile of meat they carve. It is all for the Iron Lords, a gift from his people to something that may come to be more. Not one fully made of generosity, but they trust Felwinter enough to know that he won’t do them harm with rash choices.

“No. But it is a welcomed change.”

Silence stretches as Felwinter cuts away fat from the deer meat. Tallow is valuable and always in need. The other Iron Lords work diligently but they all seem to want to say more based on mild fidgeting and shy looks up.

“Ask.” Felwinter watches as heads turn up. “I won’t judge you for being curious.”

“Can you even eat?” A woman blurts out quickly, her hands have stopped moving and her basket of vegetables is placed down. “We are preparing what I assume is a feast so I wondered if Exos can even eat.” She took a breath before reaching her hand out. “Lady Bretomart, we never got introduced.”

Felwinter let the hand stay in the air for a time before slowly putting his knife down. He takes his bloodied gloves off to shake her hand in greeting. Her grip is firm and her smile is small. 

“Guess we can blame Lord Timur for ruining a good introduction.” Another joke before offering her hand. “Lady Jolder, sorry about you having to deal with this guy.” She points behind herself with a thumb, a gesture he hadn’t seen before. Lord Saladin makes a face he hasn’t seen from the man yet. “He can be so serious and really sorry about the whole Lord Timur grabbing you.” She was quite sincere.

Once more the situation was unexpected. “I hold no grudge against him. I am aware of his enthusiasm for the Golden Age.”

“That's putting things lightly.” Lady Jolder’s eyes are more clear colored than her red hair, it was different than he was used to. “But you also chase Golden Age technology. At least that's what your reputation leads us to know.”

Felwinter looks up at her for a moment but there is no hostility. “Much of what you hear about me is what I allow to be known.” Carefully he takes the jar of fat and plate of meat, he stands. “Or what I want them to think. If you are going to go after Warlords, reputation is what they know best other than fighting.”

“You seem to know a lot about that to have that kind of reputation.” Lady Jolder passes him a jar of tallow. 

“I’ve been a Warlord Felwinter longer than I’ve been just Felwinter.” He turns to go give the meat and fat to a table, surprisingly they too finish and follow him. 

“Soon enough you will be Iron Lord Felwinter longer than both combined.” Lady Bretomart commented. “Trust me, time flies even when the sky-”

“-is falling down.” Felwinter finishes the phrase that turns his life on its head when said by a woman whose people meant more than the monster she faced. From one of their hundreds of conversations. “Yes, I suppose there will be a time where that is true.”

“So can Exos eat? You never answered.” She asked while trying to study his face. Felwinter doesn’t like the thought of her perceiving him in such a way.

“We can, but we might not need to as a normal human would.” He pauses to properly think of his next words, slipping now would be a terrible fate. Felwinter continues to shop and slice the meat away from hearty bones. “Exos may be hardy on the outside and in but our minds are still human. What we lack we crave and if we don't sate it we die as all things do.”

“I did not expect an Exo to face so many hardships.” Lord Saladin spoke as though he thought otherwise, he takes it in as truth. The trust in it is strange.

“Have you seen many Exos before?”

He shakes his head, “Not many and I was never in a position to ask much of anything.”

“Exos have become relics in our time. I’ve met only one who was alive, a friend from my early travels.” Felwinter admits. “There had been more in this place once, before my ‘time’, metal is apparently a difficult resource to find.” The implications of his words were meant to paint a gruesome picture. 

It would be best to avoid speaking of murder when he had just agreed to giving it up. Felwinter looks at the table and sees the bloody knife, his eyes reflected on its steel. For a moment they shone a bright red. “Come, we can head back and find the rest of them.”

The celebration is more than welcoming new Lords but a chance to allow the past to stay the past. A better change and prosperous alliance, to not allow the tragedies of the night come when the sun rises.

“The songs are beautiful.” An unfamiliar accent comes from behind him as he takes a moment to take in the event. “I’m Lady Skorri and this is Lord Silimar. ” She makes a gesture to a man who sits tall like a tower with a bowl of food, “Words out that we got a new recruit from Lady Perun when they come at the months end.” Lady Skorri says with a smile.

Felwinter nods in a greeting before his eyes catch her instrument. It is rare to find one with strings. “Yes, it is.”

“So you got another name?” She quips.

Felwinter can feel the way his insides tighten and his backhand brushes his coat. Knuckles graze where his gun rests on his leg beneath the fabric. “No.”

“Really? No nickname? Nothing?” She was not looking at him but tapping her fingers together. Felwinter eyed Lord Silimar who was occupied with eating his soup. “I wished you came to me before choosing a name, three syllables of Fel-Win-Ter are going to drive me up the walls.”

He blinked for a moment to process what she was talking about. “You are making a song.” Felwinter said it as a statement to himself, his firing nerves shook with the effort of calming himself down.

“Yup, the Iron Song. Think of it, if we are going to change the world then we got to have a ballad of sorts.” Her words are spoken with enthusiasm and yet her hands and fingers are covered in lines that scar from plucking the strings of her instrument and cuts from battles.

“Yes.” Felwinter can feel the weight of a warstat, a feeling he never wishes to relive. From a stupid time he spoke too much, neither he nor Rasputin apologized. Once was enough for them to agree to forget it. But he can never forget how he held onto Felspring once they were safe, how he trembled and found himself unable to cry, what a cruel thing that Rasputin left out of his design. “So that they can have hope.” 

A piece of him wonders what she would think. Would she agree that the Iron Lords are worth the risk? Or would she curse and call his name for the audacity of risking more than a life, he is risking his existence.

He finds himself sitting next to Lord Timur who has been steered clear by the other Lords. He gave the man soup as an offering with idle conversation. He took it with a sharp cut smile and watched with fascination as Felwinter ate an apple. The very fruit being a descendant from the apple he was given by Warlord Castor.

It was strange to see Lighbearers dance and drink freely with his people. There had been an urge to step in whenever a tense interaction happened but nothing bad happened. Felwinter didn't know he could even allow this for himself. Can this truly be something he can have? Can he really do this?

It felt so silly, to unite humanity. Wishful thinking to a naive machine, but they were really making it seem possible. By the Traveler he is turning into a fool, and worse of all the Traveler knows it too. 

He's going to die for this isn’t he.

He touches his painted throat with a gentle press of fingers, sharp metal gliding and smudging its edges, they are really going to change the world. How frightening, he thinks as he crunches down on the apple to its very core.

[poo0b]

A Warmind's Son

Chapter 10: Iron Will And Stone Heart

Summary:

Time shifted forward as Felwinter continues on his path for humanity, his people. Though it seems that other people have been wishing on the same star. Will the consequences of finding out who be worth it all?

In the wake of death many find themselves questioning life. Death is something he had read about, heard, seen and now knows it personally. Pain is such a simple and vague term but it fits with what Felwinter feels; the absence of a person is a painful hole in one's chest. In spite of it there is something inspiring in seeing a person live a full life as Aarthi had. It reminds Felwinter that there is still much to do, now he may have all the time to do it but his people, his humanity, don’t.

He is still not enough, he can never be enough but where he falls they will pick up where Felwinter crashes. Relying on the people Felwinter has come to know allowed a chance of breath, as needed as it was. Even with the lies and secrets he can see that they knew what their Warlord was preparing them for.

Independence.

It frightened them. It was obvious in the way they held onto him, but they did not fight him on it. The only Exo of the peak prepared them for his absence, and death. Lies were sweet enough for them to continue on but with the artificial taste in their throat they knew there was more. The Lightless would forever be younger than him but they were not naive or oblivious.

Even as he watched, witnessed and mourned the death of more, yet they still remain his. It is a fear that he couldn’t seem to overcome. What would he do if he loses this ? What would they do only ever knowing him? Felspring says to not worry about the future that may or may not come. It calms but it is still an echo in his mind, a wicked whisper.

Their independence from him allowed him to sleep when he could, sometimes dreamless, others haunted him till he awoke. Tonight was different, it felt real in a way that was uncanny to the memories and dreams of broken hours of the day. Felwinter could taste the cold, feel the wet and cold ground underneath his feet. There was rain behind him, he knew that but he didn’t turn to face it unless he wanted to miss what was in front of him.

Felwinter could feel the cold of rain behind his back, but he could not turn around. Before him a wolf is curled around pups who look hurt. Their mother looks at him with weary eyes, she anticipates something in Felwinter and in turn Felwinter feels unarmored under her eyes. 

He does not belong here, that he is certain.

The rain will not harm him and he does not belong in a den of wolves. He turns to leave but stops at the sound of a painful whimper. They are not his responsibility, they are not, they are not. Yet he takes step after step, each sound of his foot touching the earth becomes quieter and softer. 

Why? Felwinter wants to ask the mother. Why me? Why am I here?

There is no answer that matters in the face of rain.

His tongue is left barren of what he wishes he could say. There is fear and there is hope when he is face to face with the pups and their mother. He knows their pain, their hunger and weakness to survive. His humanity, and Felwinter walks ever so closer to it. 

Felwinter allows himself to grow softer and bow his head down to their level. The sound of rain hitting the ground was loud but an even louder, closer sound of water hitting the ground made him stiffen. The mother cried and the pups turned closer to him, hungry and hurt.

Soon teeth pierced flesh and then tore .

Felwinter awoke in a panic as he held his throat. What a terrible start to a day.

“Let's go out tomorrow.” Felspring tells him as he walks among his people, but it seems like there is more she wanted to say.

“Yes, I suppose we should.” Felwinter still feels ever so tired. Even routine is draining now.

The action of protecting their survival led to hunting all remnant information about SIVA and deleting it permanently. No one would survive if a Warlord got their hands on the technology. So he warned his people of his need to travel, he spun them lies and truth for a story they would believe. Felwinter used their trust and in turn offered his own.

Felwinter had fought Warlord after Warlord for them, most would challenge him and others would brag and call on him to join their violence. They were pitiful and it became easily known how much he despised his fellow Warlords, their violence to him nearly stopped all together because of it. That and for the fact that his mercy was rarely received.

Their fear of him made it possible for him to leave his territory with less worry of Lightbearers. Nonetheless the safety is not enough to get nightmares out of his head at night. But what is sleep now where there is much to do?

Felwinter has been following the path of Seraph bunkers to erase any information of SIVA. It has so far been an easy task, especially with Rasputin being helpful and even encouraging the purging of the information. 

Shame that the peace of traveling had to end once he had reached the Mothyards. The flies in the area had been bolder.

“That shotgun of yours hurts.” Says the man who had been killed and given far too many mercies. He follows him like a fly wishing to taste flesh, small, annoying, even predatory if it weren’t for its ease of being swatted away. “Looks like Golden Age stuff. Oh do you-” a clean shot rings out as silence fills the air after it. Felwinter hadn't even needed to look back to do it. He tends to the fire as he takes a needed rest to gather his new technology.

The silence of the night was calming until he heard the sound of a revival. If this man wasn’t harmless he would have shot that Ghost already. The man was longhaired and spoke with a heavy confidence that matched his stature. But he spilled his own desires, letting slip his own findings.

Another being chasing after gold.

His knowledge of Golden Age technology, machines was different from his own. Felwinter tuned himself to find something that helped himself or his people. He never gave himself the freedom to chase for the chance to simply know something he hadn’t before. 

“Stop following me.” Felwinter states to him again.

He tilts his head at Felwinter like an amused bird, no rather like a dog would be a better descriptor. “You haven’t answered my question yet.” He pouts as he sits and watches Felwinter begin to piece together an instrument.

Felwinter can feel the way the other attempts to see through the copper heat conductors of his helm every once in a while. “You have asked nothing worth answering. Now leave me alone, I am sure your Ghost is tired of bringing you back only to die again.”

“You act so tough for someone who has yet to make use of your own threats.” The man tries to goad him, “You and I both know you could have killed my Ghost so easily.” It nearly works.

Instead he continues tinkering with the soot covered object. If he’s lucky the man would get bored. How humorous, it seems that Felwinter can even lie to himself. For a time the man does follow him quietly when the sun begins to rise from its sleep.

“What's your name?” He asked suddenly, picking and poking at a dead Fallen.

“What?”

“Your name, you do have one? Right?” He teases as he tears off the things respirator.

Felwinter turns his head to look at him, and his expression matches his tease. A sly smile and creased eyes.

“Felwinter.”

If he recognizes his name he doesn't say. “Fitting name for someone so cold. I’m Lord Timur, nice to meet you.”

Timur lets out his hand for Felwinter, but it goes ignored. The other Lord takes it with grace. “Have you heard of the Iron Lords?”

“No.”

“Shame cause we are going to help humanity as a whole.” There is a glint in his eyes that can’t be placed. A hunger of a beast that knows where prey sleeps.

Something must have shown in his posture or Lord Timur is fond of speaking to himself because the man continues.

“I mean it, we are going to change the world.” There is a seriousness in his voice that wasn’t there before as if it was something he truly believed in. It was strange but even more so it was eerily similar to himself. But he speaks as if changing the world is an inevitability that they would lead. A stupidly optimistic thought.

“You can join us and help-,” the man pressed.

“Why would I be helping you? Another title but one gilded with the false prospects of being better than a barbaric Warlord?” Felwinter did not even give them the notion of being angry, a freedom to have a flat voice is that it makes it easy to seem untouched. To make the listener feel beneath him with the clarity of fresh water. “Your offer is lacking, Lord Timur.”

Green eyes stare more intently at Felwinter, he sees something. Ah, there it is. That look that only a Lightbearer has. One you gain after surviving decades with more deaths than many could count. This man may have something more useful than digging through garbage like he was found with.

“Aren’t you tired? Of fighting constantly, barely scraping by while getting attacked by Warlords for no reason? Tell me, when was the last time you slept in peace, without a gun or Light in your hand?” Timur came closer to him but he still lacked any show of aggression. “You can’t say that there is no want in you to do better. Not when you spared my Ghost countless times.”

The closeness was uncomfortable, and the words were striking. Felwinter would not allow himself to step back. “How do you plan to ‘change the world’, hmm? You said nothing even remotely close to a plan.”

“I can show you.” Lord Timur said it like it was some adventure.

“Why would I follow you?”

“Because you’ll never know unless you come.” A smile was shown and it infuriated him, damnit.

Felspring showed both disapproval at the situation and humor at the chance to tease. Especially since Felwinter in the end decides that satiating his curiosity was worth the risk.

Where Lord Timur led him happened to be a Golden Age bunker, not Rasputin's Seraphs bunkers but it may have been one of Clovis Bray’s many fingerprints on the world. A Golden Age treasure and in this case a tomb. 

Clovis apparently hadn’t known of the existence of Siddhartha Golem, but what would he have done if he knew? An AI making another AI, a sentient one at that is unprecedented. It is a safety that Felwinter breathed thanks to. Lord Timur would not know who he is.

Was. Felsring quips, You are more than you were. Why must I remind you of that so often. The last part was spoken as a statement rather than a question.

They were managing through the facility quite easily until they were met with a door that Lord Timur couldn’t pass through. His Ghost was struggling with his Lightbearer in putting in the right code. Everything had been going smoothly up until this point.

“I take it you have never been here?”

“Nope! But I promise you I know what I’m doing.” He turns to give a smile. He offers them so easily. 

Felspring looked at Felwinter with amusement. She was debating on helping but showing their cards to this stranger was not the best course of action. 

“This is taking a while.” She whispers quietly to him after a time.

Felwinter takes it as a que to offer some assistance. He moved to the door and pressed his fingers between the gaps between and pulled them apart before holding them open. Lord Timur makes a sputtering sound from behind him before deciding to use his words.

“Ah, thank you?” He says as he moves past Felwinter to get inside the room. 

Felspring goes in after and Felwinter closes the door quietly as he can. When he turns he sees a collection of computers. They lined the walls and Lord Timur walked past them eagerly until he reached a platform with a console. It is similar to Rasputin’s designs, yet somehow this was more minimal than his.

Felwinter goes to Lord Timur's side, one pace behind him. He could see the way the man types code after code to get passage through to its secrets. When he gets in he begins to point out document after document on the large monitors.

“This is what we can do for them, Felwinter. Give them this! Clovis Bray left technology that brought the Golden Age to the height it reached. It could help us give them the start they need.” Lord Timur says all this without even looking at him. His green eyes stayed glued to the screen. “I’ve seen that gun that you carry, first hand might I add. You already know of its potential.”

The idea of returning knowledge was one shared but it was flawed. There were so many factors that Felwinter faced, Lord Timur made it sound so easy. He cannot trust this blatant show of hope. “What if the Fallen get their hands on this technology? Or Warlords? There is strength in this knowledge.”

“We would stop them. The Iron Lords have sworn to end all the Warlord’s reign, we have the strength and numbers to do so, we already have made progress.” There it is, that sharp edge in his voice that Lord Timur keeps hidden. 

“So you say. But what of humanity, what use is scraps of the past when they struggle for food?”

“We will make a space for them, one where they are safe. Once they get their foot on the ground, food is something they won’t have to worry about.” Lord Timur is still passing through information, he is looking for something. “Besides, who wouldn’t want to join us when we get this .”

There had barely been a second passed when Felwinter had this fool pressed against the monitors. His shotgun was pressed hard between the plates of Lord Timur's armor. 

“You are a fool and so are these Iron Lords of yours if you think for a moment that SIVA would be of use to you.” Lord Timur struggled for a moment before his words, the Arc that sparked from where his hands were bound. Lord Timur must be able to feel the shift that Felwinter might actually make use of his threats. There is a burning anger in him as he is taken aback that this man knows of SIVA.

“Wh-”

Felwinter slams his head hard enough to crack the glass of the monitor. “Quiet. You are putting us all in danger by even trying to find it.” Felwinter loosens his grasp on his head for a moment. “A pity, for a moment I believed your words.” 

Lord Timur's body fell with the sound of the shot. The monitor and the monitor were caught in the crossfire. Felwinter was a bigger fool himself for beginning to believe his words and even more so in not thinking that Clovis Bray wouldn’t have information on SIVA.

The man's Ghost appeared and this time was frightened. The Warlord made no move to take its life. “You can revive him when I’m far away from here. Then you will tell your Lightbearer that if I ever find him again, you will die.” Felwinter refuses to wait for an answer and heads home.

All that's done can be undone with one person knowing too much and it reminds Felwinter of his own helplessness. One that he had forgotten. A Warlord can be stronger than him and take what delicate lives he had sworn to protect at any time of the day, on any day of the year. But if there were no Warlords then there was a chance for change.

Damn that man, even now he can’t seem to stop thinking of the prospect offered to him. Felwinter sits at the top of his peak in the cold of night with the still broken instrument, a handheld telescope. Maybe in telling the stars of that foolish dream with his own, maybe the universe can hang them up like the brightest of stars. Just like any star he hopes he can light the way, one day they won’t stay as dreams.

It seems that at least Felwinter wasn’t the only one with silly dreams. With the thought stuck in his mind he gets up to patrol. Next month he will leave for Rasputin, he needs more information. He already knows that it will be a difficult conversation.

“Lord Felwinter!” A cheerful child says from behind him. The month has passed and he is doing a last sweep of his territory before he goes.

Felwinter kneels to be on an equal level with him. “Do you need something?”

“Mhm! Can you bring my sister something from wherever you go?” The little one questions.

“I can do that, but why not ask for something for yourself?” Children were always such a curiosity, was Siddhartha Golem like them?

He gets closer to him and makes a motion to bring his head closer. “Don’t tell anyone, but she gave me candy from one of those guys with fancy stuff and Father always says ‘Return kindness with kindness.” He lets out a little giggle and covers his mouth. He speaks of the wandering merchants that come from now and then, only the Lightless were allowed to trade at the peak.

“Oh, how kind.” Felspring coos at the boy.

“Your secret is safe with me.”

“Thank you my Lord! Be safe!” His smile is missing teeth but leaves a full face of joy.

Felwinter waves him and his people off as he leaves again. 

The entrance opened easily for him as they tend to do, it does not ease him. Felwinter still cannot accept this part of himself as quickly as Rasputin does. Once they reach a console to speak to The Warmind they are greeted with a voice again.

“Welcome back, Siddhartha.”

“Rasputin. Do you have any access to Clovis Bray facilities or anything beyond your own network?” Felwinter can taste the desperation in his voice.

“ I am still in the process of retrieving my old command, should I prioritize retrieval of the Clovis Bray network?”

“No, no, continue with what you were doing before.” This makes things harder but it also means that Rasputin is not as he was. So there was retaining damage from the Collapse even after all these years.

“Is something wrong?”

“What?”

“You are distracted.”

“I met someone, they know of SIVA.” Felwinter began to pace. “They found out through old data from Bray Tech. Can you delete SIVA on your end, I’ll find SIVA where you cannot reach.”

“That can be done. Are they a threat to you?”

“No. They are more like a pest, miniscule and at most bothering.”

“Pest kill slowly, it's not the pest that is dangerous, it's what they taint the environment with what they bring.”

There was a change in his words, it was familiar and refreshing to hear from Rasputin. It reminded him that they were both sentient and alive, not just machines.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Their relationship is changing, it was something good. Good is needed in these times and this is good. “Thank you Rasputin.”

“Your welcome, Siddhartha.”

Good times never last as when he returns to his home, his mountain, his people are in shambles. A Risen stands on his land and tries to grab at someone he knows. Felwinter had known every name, everyone that came to his home or was born into it. 

He does not know her name, and never will. Her terror stays on her face when she falls, and the Ghost goes with her. It wouldn’t have mattered if she was stronger or faster, she didn’t expect him. He too didn’t expect her to be here and that was his fault.

Homes are demolished and his people are beyond hurt. Some lie still on the snow as ash falls like winter weather. An injured man steps closer to him, a friend.

“My Lord.” He states weakly as he coughs.

“Denzel, are you alright?” Felwinter holds the man's arms to stop him from falling on the ash carpeted snow. “Is everyone alright?”

Denzel’s hands grip onto his armor to attempt to regain some balance. “They took two of our children, they-”

“I’ll bring them back, I promise. Worry about who's here now.”

“Yes, this isn’t the first time but I will say it's been a while.” The man tries to laugh but ends up coughing harshly. 

“Felspring stay with them and help.”

“Be quick,” she cautions and points him to their tracks. “They weren’t alone.”

Felwinter nods and leaves running.

“Yes, this isn’t the first time but I will say it's been a while.” The man tries to laugh but ends up coughing. “Be quick, they weren’t alone.”

Felwinter nods and leaves running.

Out of all the children taken it had to have been that little boy and his sister. Talk of traffickers had made it to Felwinter's ears but they had never dared to get so close and he never gave them the chance to. If Felwinter has to go from Warlord to Warlord to get it through their skulls he will. 

It had been awhile since he had expanded his territory, he’d been too worried of Fallen rather than the man kind that fed on power. This is still too large a task, someone will eventually be stronger. The people of Felwinter’s Peak cannot afford his failure. He needs to be more careful.

Track, kill, find, simple and rigorous. These traffickers must be desperate or stupid for taking his people. They couldn’t have gotten far but the tracks showed that they had some sort of carriage, hooves and long lines driven through snow.

The sound of horses huffing is heard in front of an abandoned and unfinished brick fortress. It used to be owned by a nearby Warlord, he was in the process of finishing its walls when Felwinter came to kill him and free the people under him. 

Horses can be quite loud can't they? Felwinter thought as he eyed the large animals who were still attached to the carriage. A distraction to draw them out from where they hide behind broken walls.

Drawing out people with two rampaging horses was an easy feat. There were two Risen and they spotted him quickly at the entrance. They can run or they can fight, either way they aren’t making it out alive.

They are still too surprised to do much of anything when Felwinter closes the gap between them and fires. Felwinter cannot afford to die so this will be quick as he can make it be. The one he doesn’t shoot he grabs and flings him against the stone of the castle's wall. 

A burning flare is thrown at him as he rolls. Solar incarnate is embedded into the mortar of the wall, a knife. He pays in little mind as he watches them regroup. They lack finesse and at times readjust themselves when another stumbles. It's pathetic and a waste of time. 

Felwinter ducked enough to shoulder push them into the other with enough force to cause them to fall. When they both manage to gather themselves to look up they both freeze. Their eyes are locked onto the barrel of Felwinter gun.

“Where are they?” 

“I don’t kno-” One tries and is shot.

“You.” Felwinter turns his gun lower to the other one, he is petrified. “Where are they? Your answer should be detailed.”

“They're in the building! Third floor!” He adds quickly, his companion Ghost took its time to make an appearance and Felwinter steps on it, putting a crushing wait on the one still alive.

“Where were you going to take them?”

A sneer appears on the man's face and in turn he puts more of his weight down.

“Try again.”

“You’ll kill her!” The press of the Ghost to the others armor would eventually crush her. He could only watch as he was trapped underneath it all.

“Then answer quickly.”

“Th-There is a price for people, potential workers and what not. Human livestock. We all got to make a living right?” There is a tension the man tries to release by swallowing. He chokes instead when Felwinter adds more pressure. The Ghost squirms.

In anger or retaliation he spits at Felwinter. “As if you're any better than us! Come on Warlord, how many have you killed?” Felwinter thinks he's broken the man. “As if having territory makes you better, at least they're alive!”

Felwinter’s response was to crush the Ghost with a simple slam of his heel. What the man does next is foolish as Felwinter is shoved off him. The man sparks with Arc and charges him but before Felwinter can shoot, a fire parts the earth between them. It rushes up the stone wall like a fountain. 

They both look to the direction the line of solar came from. There were three Lightbearers staring them down. Their armor was familiar, they were far from having similar armor besides the colors and the emblems.

Iron Lords. Wolves and branches that are covering their armor. This was beyond expected, Felwinter dug up whispers and rumors in the month home. They weren’t supposed to be anywhere near his keep. A realization hits and Felwinter looks to the man whose blood he wears. 

“How many people did you take here.” He doesn’t say it as a question, it isn’t for him it's for himself. The Iron Lords followed the trail left by these people, they led them to his keep. A group known to take Warlords out are so close to his people.

Felspring! The Iron Lords are here, stay where you are. Do not find me.

She doesn't respond. 

The man stares at him and then he runs. Bastard. But there is an opportunity to get them away from the fortress. They might leave one behind but it might be enough. This has to be enough.

Felwinter runs through the flames and gives chase. He hears shouting behind him as he keeps pace with the runaway. He needs to bring them just a bit further then he will kill the man in front of him so that if all goes wrong, Felwinter’s people won’t have to see him again. 

The Iron Lords are a danger to him, his people are safe and that is what matters.

There is an advantage to this, they are on his borders. Passing familiar trees he closes the gap and grabs the man by the back of his chest plate and devours his Light. The distance is just enough to utilize Void Light. Solar is familiar and he learned precision with its scorching blade. Void on the other hand is his flesh and soul, he bares it with the strength of destruction and hunger. He is Warlord Felwinter, Lord of Felwinter’s Peak and he is Dark Horse of the Dark Age. 

He has no equal.

A heavy armored man rushes at his axe in hand and Felwinter flings the trapper at him. It startled him enough to cease his rush as he is forced to dodge. There was little time to make use of the distraction as another attacked him from the left. 

Her blade glides against his vambrace as he is forced to block her. She was quick and the strike would have been lethal, he barely had enough time. The odds were not the worst, a three party fight and the most on in one is two. They left one behind, at the very least that means that the children would not be harmed.

She recovers from the miss and grips the fur of his cloak. Felwinter turns his body enough so the fabric wraps and traps her fingers before slamming his head forward hard enough to make a sickening crack. 

She makes a pained sound as for a moment touches the white metal of her helm. The moment Felwinter attempted to even shoot her the body of the trapper flung at him. But he does not dodge, he turns and catches him. The man struggles as the Iron Lords watch the barrel of his shotgun become crimson. The body is then dropped lazily. 

A white Ghost appears and the tension is palatable. The war changes and the battle continues, their effort switches to preserving the Ghost's life against Felwinter's need to end it. His people deserve to know that their nightmare was just a dream. 

He had been so distracted in both trying to get the Ghost and keeping himself alive he hadn’t noticed that they had been inching closer to the fortress. Felwinter started loosing, the Iron Lords were more coordinated. There were only so many hits he could block and he was limited in how much blood he could lose. They were chipping away at him slowly.

The axe wielding Iron Lord was heavily armored and the fact he engulfed his axe in Solar caused a heavy blow that shoved him through the brick wall onto another. Felwinter attempted to get up but was too weak and slow. He gave up on trying to get up when through the dust his attacker pressed the axe into his abdomen and it seared.

Stuck on a broken stone throne he grips the axe and manages to stop the push of it trying to carve him further. The Iron has a hand on his throat and doesn’t seem to be all too concerned that his axe has been halted. Felwinter was bleeding out terribly fast. His helmet is nearly eye level with the wolves on the Lord's chest. 

A distant cry was heard, one that was his name. He lulls his head to it and sees the little boy crying profusely. No, no ,no, he can’t be here. The child shouldn’t see this, there is enough pain that he will face without this memory. 

“It's okay, Hati, it's okay.” Felwinter's voice felt weak even to his own ears. “Everything is going to be okay.”

His sobs get worse as his sister holds him from running closer. Another lie begins to form on his tongue, “Turn around and close your eyes, both of you,” when they do Felwinter continues. He tries to speak again and fails.

The Axe is no longer being pushed or Felwinter is simply getting weaker faster then he thought. He tries to speak again but can’t as his body begins to shut down. His hands smear blood on the wolves of the Iron Lord on top of him as he attempts to get a grip. The man speaks but he can’t decipher his words. The axe is no longer so hot and the hand is removed from his throat.

Another person comes besides him. “Where's your Ghost?” A heavy hand comes down where the weapon is embedded into him. Felwinter doesn't feel it but barely sees the action.

“You won’t find her.” It comes out a whisper. “She won’t come.” It took so much effort to speak.

The man says something again but he doesn’t quite understand it. Something about not killing him? It doesn’t matter as a warmth appears where the hand is placed. Meticulously his body is being fixed, it's so very slow and pathetic.

In Felwinter’s delirious state he places a hand on his and corrects his form. Weakly he speaks again, it is louder than before. “You’ve never done this have you?” 

The man laughs, it is a gruff sound.

The sharp pain of it being removed was worse than it being pushed into him. But at least he got an answer. Felwinter then shoved the hand away which pulled back but not because he was strong enough to push it away. A pure white flame is pulled from his Light and he presses it against the wound and existing becomes far easier. Metal shifts and wires reattach themselves, a still strange but painless process.

The rubble feels far more comfier than before now that he knows he would not die on it. “Why are you here?” The person beside him is larger than the others which isn’t a small feat, a bear pelt graces his frame so perhaps he is a bit smaller then he seems. 

“Tell me, Iron Lord, would you not try to find your own people?”

“You know us.” The axe wielder restates the obvious. When did he get off of him?

“Met one of your friends. He’s quite obnoxious.”

“Ah, you met Lord Timur huh?” She says with a short laugh and having to flick him head in the direction of three heads was tiresome.

“Yes.” Felwinter pulls some strength from himself as he sits up. Once he does the small boy collides with him and cries. He is stunned for a moment, Felwinter should return the hug but the amount of blood on him suggests otherwise.

Instead he allows a wave of Solar to wash the soot, dirt and blood from his body. The boy seems undeterred when it happens, poor thing. After he pulls the boy closer so that he can cry in a more comfortable spot. He mimics what he’s seen parents do to a fussing infant, a shushing sound that seems to calm them.

It thankfully works. 

“ He took your people.”

“ They took more than that, my people can’t afford something like revenge. I do what they cannot.”

There is a silence that stretches. “It's rude not to introduce yourselves, especially after this miscommunication.” Felwinter says as he stands on shaking legs. Not because his body can’t  handle his weight and the boy’s but because his mind still thinks he's dying.

The man tries to touch him, he thinks that it may be for support. Felwinter flinches at the moment before noticing the innocent intention. The bear coated man puts his hands up in a strange gesture. 

“I’m Lord Radegast, my friends here are Lord Saladin and Lady Efrideet.” His voice was kind but firm. “We mean no harm.”

“Warlord Felwinter, this is Hati.” The boy perks up from his name. “See Hati, we are okay. Just a misunderstanding.” Felwinter spoke to the boy in his arms. The boy peers from beneath his chin.

There was a strong weight between them all. They had not meant to scare the boy and Felwinter was too socially inept to make better of the situation. Instead he goes to check on the older sibling. She's hurt, that much can be said but she's very much alive.

She spoke calmly for a child put in such a harsh situation, but he supposes she is closer to an adult then a child now. In spite of how calm she is there was no mistaking the tear streaks and the moment that Felwinter used his cape to clean her cheeks she began to cry.

Felwinter panicked and wished Felspring were here. She was far more knowledgeable in this and the hissing sound was better used for tiny children. He simply kept brushing away the tears in hopes that the cold won’t freeze them against her face. It seems to be enough comfort for now as she slowly begins to recover. Sadness seems to be an injury in the mind, or rather the heart. It is not something Felwinter can fix, or protect them from.

“Ready to go home?” He places the boy down to stand as he stands up to offer her a hand up.

“What of the others? Will they come with us?” She spoke quickly, her voice still raw from her crying. 

Their resources have taken a hit after the attack, it has been less than a day. Unprepared is an understatement, especially for what is five adults. They are far more hurt than his kids. Felwinter turns to the Iron Lords and a terrifying thought appears; a solution.

“Tell me Lord Radegast, if I were to give you the chance to convince me. Would you take it?”

The Iron Lord was perspective and took his challenge. “You would make a fine addition. I hear your keep is spacious enough to house a near hundred.” Lord Radegast says calmly while looking at the injured and then back at Felwinter.

“Will my people be under the Iron Lords protection?”

There is a lack of surprise at the statement and the brows of the Lord soften. “Yes. They would be.”

“Then help me get these people to my home, safely. If you do that I will join you.” This needs to be done. Felwinter can see the way wolves begin to stalk them, he turns to see how they approach the Iron Lords without fear. A hand goes to his own throat as one of theirs goes to a wolf's head. 

Forgive me, Felspring.

[poo0b]

A Warmind's Son

Chapter 9: Not a Warlord, Not a Man, Just a Lie

Summary:

Responsibility is the water to a growing river, it will carve and shape who you will be. Felwinter may have bitten off more then he could chew, or he received the right amount needed to be what he must. Time is the only thing that could tell him.

Choices lead to consequences and he is a fool for doing something so quickly without consulting Felspring. But he knew something was deeply wrong and a miss from this man and the village. Their connection felt wrong, amiss and strained. Something with the food, the table, and the way the man carried himself was nothing short then wrong.

When did he care so much, better yet, why does he care as much as he does now? Felwinter cared for humanity, yes, that is what this all was for but…not in the way that he would jeopardize something so important.

When he had returned to the Observatory alone she had already known and begun to dig into him. Even with the shame of being so impatient and not waiting for a proper reason to kill Warlord Castor, there was an odd feeling left. An understanding that now he owns this mountain, that this is his. 

It is a frightening thought.

Felwinter doesn’t want possessions, they can be lost, stolen, and bargained for. It is a weakness and that is something he cannot afford to have. Not when he is still far too weak on his own. 

“We could still leave.” Felspring suggests. “Take the information and run, we owe no one anything.”

“No. We can’t.” Felwinter heads to the ladder to the collection of books, “Let’s settle in, decrypting this information is going to take time.”

Felspring is practically fluttering behind him at the implications. “Does that mean this is ours now? Our home? With no more running and-”

Felwinter lets out a rare and small laugh which quickly quiets his friend. “Yes, it does, Felspring.” He is quick to stop laughing when he reaches for something in his pocket.

“We should find out what to do with them.” Felspring was quick to say when Felwinter raises the Ghost in his palm. They seemed to agree as their eye flickered.

They spent time learning of how the books were organized to find that whatever system was there was disrupted. Not so much a huge deal but it is a task that can be done later. Exploring the unfinished castle seemed more productive for their first remaining day. 

Inside of the care of the stone walls was cold and unwelcoming. Walls are barren and the emptiness of the building makes each of his steps ring and echo. There is a lonely weight of each room, an unfinished wake of what it could have been. This place was not made by Warlords but by the people who had been born with the privilege to live. Not of those with the audacity to survive what should have left this planet barren.

It was like the library he awoke in. Its beauty is shown behind the echoes of time, but it does not lessen it. It simply changes the feeling of the emotions it brings whenever given the privilege to witness it. 

Following the corridors there are many rooms. Most are empty while others were treated as storage, Castor’s room was full to the brim with items. Felwinter nearly mistook it for another storage room if it wasn’t for a clear bed. There were trophies of all sorts around hanging or in boxes. There had even been dead Ghosts hidden in the boxes, how peculiar. As if he got a thrill of torture or killing. 

Felwinter could not understand the thrill of killing. It is confusing as how crushing someone beneath your heel was entertaining when it proves nothing. If you are strong then you are strong, if you need proof then you aren’t as strong as you say. But the greed of a dead man provides for the living. The broken shells give a chance of fixing the small Ghost, they might not be able to fly again but they could become comfortable. Such a small thing to offer in a cruel world.

They moved to a mess of a table and placed the little Ghost down. They look up expectantly as they seem to understand what was about to be tried. He called for Felspring to bring out the broken helmet as well as they might find something to repair it with.

“I do not have the tools yet to fix you, but I can try and make it easier for you to participate.” He grasps at their broken shell and begins to strip it off until their spherical core was left. It did not hurt them so long as he stayed careful of his fingers. 

But none of the shells could fit despite his tinkering. They still lacked the tools and information to understand Ghosts. The children of the Traveler were new to the world as much as everyone else, if only their gift of life wasn’t one brought up by war. Still, being so small could be useful, they could fit somewhere.

Something easy to wear or move about scrummaging through the trophies for something, anything. He finds a large pendant with a red jewel at its heart. Felwinter dug the tips of his fingers between the jewel and the metal until he can remove it.

When he comes back to the table the little Ghost barely makes a move when they are grabbed to replace the red stone. With gentle pressure he is able to re-bend the metal to now hold them in place. The leather strap is thick enough to not worry when he lifts them by it.

“Until we can fix you, I hope that this is adequate.”

They still don’t seem all so bothered by the change, it was as if this was normal. But they do look at the helmet now at the table and a thought appears. “Would you prefer that? ”

The reaction had been immediate as blue met orange.

But the throne room had been new, there was no denying how pristine it was. Why, Felwinter could not understand, that this was made instead of fixing the holes in each room? This wood carved seat was more important than the poor excuse of the food storage room, or the lack of Castor must have made it or added to it. The wood is carved with care, and stories. They provide a brutal picture of war, but it does not lose the fact that it is made of a great tree with leaves enhancing, encompassing it. There is practicality in its design, it is on a pedestal. It allows for a high view in spite of whoever sits as they gaze at any who enter its chamber.

Felwinter can see reason in it. To allow this space between the one who sits and those who stand. A barrier of the one in power and its subjects. But the seat makes him uncomfortable, his back is not to a wall and its back stops him from looking behind. Its height is daunting, there is something else that reaches and grasps his core. He just can not remember why? He gets up and moves on to explore else wear.

The stained wood does not seem all that special in the end.

Wondering led him to where he is now in front of a mirror with all of his armor off. Felwinter stared at his body, the way the LED lights littered in spaces between carbon plated metal and softer synthetic muscle. They were dimmer than his eyes but their color was an intense but closer to orange red. His eyes are made up of three colors playing as one; yellow, orange and red. Felwinter tries to focus his eyes and sees as they become smaller and then larger like an old camera shutter. 

He shakes the thought that he knows he can imagine it but he can not see it, how strange.

Felwinter inspects his hands and sees the way his sharp tipped fingers showed signs of being filled duller than shaper then duller again. They are scratched and littered with dust from his travels. He allows his gaze to rise back to the whole of his frame.

As an Exo he is vastly different from Gryphon-11. The black metal makes him appear unapproachable than the blues and green of the other. He is thinner, more sleek and most likely more advanced than Gryphon. There is so much to compare, but it matters less now.

Felwinter is not human but that does not make him a monster.

“I do not believe you have eyelids.” Felspring remarks suddenly. She had been out this entire time but only had spoken now. Observing him the same way he was.

“What?”

“Nothing bad, just you don't blink.” She moves closer to the mirror to be in a better position to inspect his reflection. 

The Exo stops for a moment and then sees his world turn off for less than a second. A blink.

“I stand corrected.” She laughs a soft little sound as she turns to face him. Her eye becomes smaller in a way to show a smile.

Thin fingers graze her silver shell, she is angled and has such complex moving parts to her all in one simplistic design. A child of the Traveler and she carries herself well in the uncertainties of her creator’s will. Something they have in common, though not one of them dares to point it out. Faith is a fragile thing after all.

Something catches his eye in the mirror and so he takes off his shirt and twists to see better. There is a large gash on his back that begins at the top of his shoulder blade to the bottom of where his synthetic equivalent of a rib cage would end. The edges have been smoothed out but it is still a cavern carved into metal and false flesh. Felspring tells him how some scars remain on a Lightbearer, most they carry are from the way they died. She explained that he awoke with this and he did not respond.

Felwinter doesn’t look in the mirror again after that. 

He bides his time taking all the knowledge he can from the Observatory and then some. Felwinter has now made it a habit to practice his Light under Felspring's guidance. This is new for them all, he fails, tries again and may succeed the next time or never. A circle in the snow works as a way to create a sheet of light, a well. While creating something more controlled from Void fails. The Light is tried again and again until they both have run out of ideas to improve.

But the silence of broken sleep and the peace of routine is broken when a woman climbs halfway up the mountain to speak to him. 

“Who are you?” he asked from behind her. It must have startled her as she stood up abruptly,  he had not noticed the crates with her.

“My name is Aarthi.” She said with a voice calmer than anticipated after a scare. “You killed Lord Castor, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“You are the Lord of this mountain now.” 

“The mountain is mine based on succession, but I am no Warlord.” Felwinter explains calmly as Felspring hovers.

Her eyes are brown and calculating as she stares thinly at him. She too has a weathered face as he remembered most people of the settlement having. “My village is down there.” She points a leather protected hand down to the homes visible. “We need protection, that was Castor. Now it is you.”

She moves herself away from blocking the crates and reveals two. One has food, the other has ammunition. “This is payment.”

For a moment Felwinter is baffled, she had explained this to him as if he were a child. Did she think he did not understand that Warlords and their people was a transactional relationship built on equal desperation to survive. 

“I am not a Warlord.”

“I-” She began but Felwinter did not allow her to finish.

“I will fulfill the absence of Warlord Castor. I do not need any payment.” Felwinter states and turns to leave her with the fallen snow. He does not know how to proceed with the responsibility of a settlement. This is far too large of a task, but he can continue to protect the borders and the surrounding area just fine. 

“I’ll be back next month.” She says before she too leaves, taking one crate with her.

Returning to the safety of the Observatory left him diving further into his research. Felwinter could organize some useful information for the settlement below. They could become symbiotic, useful to each other as equals. They would be his experiment that this information can be used properly, that they could thrive with time. 

They would get safety, and guidance from old knowledge. A safe environment to thrive. 

It could work, but how can he offer such a thing? Allowing them to know what he is…it's dangerous in the long run. He must walk with caution but how? Felwinter can not allow himself to be a Warlord. 

“You could try and give them an offering?” Felspring says lazily as she floats above an open book he had left for her. “It may ease tension.”

“Or it could seem like a trap or a bribe.”

“That is true.” She starts, “but what if you get them something that can only be taken as an olive branch?”

“I do not recall what that means.”

“It's in this book, I think it refers to something before the Golden Age. Never mind that, it means a peace offering or a treaty, to go away with disagreement or conflict.”

“There is no conflict between me and the settlement.”

She swings over to his side and presses against his exposed neck for warmth. “No, but they do with Warlords and as far as they are concerned that is you.”

There was much to prepare but there is no guide to being this . Felwinter can feel himself attempting to blend into the chair as if it would cause all his worries to disappear. As if becoming a chair would do him better, so he stands away from it before he allows himself to make better of his restlessness. 

If the village finds crates of their own filled with food and empty jars, it is of no one else's knowledge but their own.

Felwinter returns to finding bunkers and Golden Age technology. It is of no one's surprise when another Lightbearer stands in their way by the entrance of a bunker. He plays the same dance again, tells them to leave, they do not. At the end he is the one left standing. 

The blood on his greaves leaves a sticky feeling that he isn't sure what to make of. Was this all really necessary? No matter his thoughts or feelings there was nothing he could change, he is still not strong enough to risk a thing such as mercy. 

The bunker’s entrance was on the floor, the panel was broken due to the fight that happened right on top of it. It made it easy enough to grab its edge and tug it open enough to fall inside. The moment his feet hit the ground he could hear Rasputin turning the generators on. It has been awhile, he hopes that Rasputin would be more calm this time around.

He was quick to regret that assessment as he saw the red glow of multiple frames glare at him in the dark. Felwinter takes out his gun and presses forward. 

Armor and now even his shoes are covered in the synthetic blood once he reaches the room where Rasputin has perched his voice in. The Warmind speaks before he can even ask for answers.

“ Your signal went offline.” 

That was not what Felwinter was expecting. 

“ Your signal went offline. I couldn’t find you, see you. You were gone.”

“As you can see, Felwinter is here.” Felspring quips, “Do you think that there is some glitch with your tracking?”

“No.” Rasputin’s answer was short and quick. 

“Is that why you sent the frames after me? Did you think I was dead?”

There was silence before his answer, “I do not think you should leave again. Stay where it is safe.”

“That is not your decision to make.” Felwinter‘s voice was raised and agitated as one without tone could be.

“ I made you. You are mine.”

Felspring argues back and forth with Rasputin while Felwinter stays silent. The conversation was tiring, it made his body feel heavier and he grabbed onto the console to ground himself. Why would his signal go out? Rasputin had always been able to follow him, see him pass oceans and valleys. What was different…

“Altitude.” He interrupts the back and forth argument. “We found Vostok Observatory, it's on a peak with high altitudes. We have been there for two months now.”

The console light flickers as Rasputin seems to take the information. “ Yes, your signal disappeared near that sector.”

“We are living there now, perhaps now would be a good time to discuss a more routine arrangement.” Felwinter offers. “It would ease you, no?”

“ Find somewhere else to live.”

“We can’t do that, there is a settlement at the foot of the mountain. They are a perfect chance to try my experiment as you called it.”

“I need to know that you're alive. Your signal proves that.”

“Rasputin.” The name is firm on his tongue, ”I promise to you that I will not die permanently. Not for a long time, there is still much I need to do.”

Nothing was said after that, as if it was something far too big to speak over. Felwinter takes a moment to find a seat to pull it closer to the console so he can get comfortable for the talk that is about to be had. When he sat down he could feel the weight of his body sink. An introduction and a change of topic would be best to start off with.

“For now, let me tell you of what I’ve done since we last spoke.” Felwinter grapes onto his helmet and turns it. “First I would like you to meet a companion of mine.”

The month has gone by slowly as they repeat their routine; reading, learning, practicing, surviving, protecting. When returning from another hunt, one that ended with another Lightbearer dead, they saw a figure. The woman Aarthi waited at the same spot of the mountain, halfway up and halfway down. She was whistling a song when Felwinter begins to approach her, he makes his steps louder to not startle her.

“Why have you come back? There is nothing for you here.” Felwinter asks as he goes to be beside her. He looks down at her for a moment to see her with her legs tucked under her chin as she looks up at him. 

“I bring tribute.” She says it in a calm voice. “I had thought you would want less.”

“I don’t want your food.”

She opens her mouth to argue, Felwinter places a hand up to stop her. “I am not a Warlord. I need nothing from you or anyone in your village.” He goes to leave her at that cliff.

“I know about you, you know.” He stops walking and turns slightly to offer her the face of his helm. “They call you Warlord, out there, Lord Felwinter.” She does not mock when she says his name for the first time. “I hear you’ve killed more Warlords than Castor. Over old technology. All from before the Collapse.”

“Not a Warlord,” he says to no one but himself. It was a foolish response. He’s killed many, yes, but out of need for survival. Not for sport or some want for power or land. That is the line that makes him not a Warlord, isn’t it? 

Aarthi must have heard him because she calls out to him again, louder and firmer. “Just because you say that doesn’t make it true.”

Felspring tells him that she doesn’t like her, he doesn’t know what to think as they climb back up the mountain, again leaving her behind. The next month he leaves a crate of his own, except he does not wait for her. 

They repeat the routine of her offering and him refusing, again and again. She comes up the mountain and he comes down. She finds more things to offer and he declines. Each time they spoke more, they asked and tried to learn from each other as they talked. They wondered of their individual lives, the time before the Collapse and of the future. It had been well over her fifth visit when he had decided to stay for just a little longer.

“Why do you not come to the village? You offer so much and yet you take nothing. Why?” There is that confused tone that he has come to be familiar with. She looks at him with eyes that seem to hold so much fury and strength. Her face is still shallow but she is improving. He hopes they all are.

That question is not new, but it is one she has begun to ask more insistently. “I can’t.” He tells her his rejection of the offer once again. He keeps his words different each time he is asked, but it is always a polite way to say ‘no’.

She lets out a sigh, one that is visible with the cold air. “You know that before you, before Citan, Warlords have been crashing through our village for ages. They tore our lives apart, from everything we plant to the homes we’ve built. Yet you came, helped us with all your cryptic knowledge. You won’t even give us the courtesy as to why? Why won’t you let us past this line you’ve drawn.” She became very animated in the way she spoke, her grasp on her knees fell as she used her hands to emphasis. She gestures to the open space between them

A space that is always kept. Always close enough to hear each other but never close enough to be anything more.

Aarthi seemed so angry, he didn't understand why? She speaks again, this time standing up and staring through his now fixed, completed helmet. “What are you so scared of?”

Felwinter doesn’t answer. He feels as though he can’t, and that might be true. What is he supposed to say? That he doesn’t belong? That he isn’t human enough, he isn’t alive enough, that- he isn’t enough. 

It does not matter. 

The silence between them does not get filled, not even the soft blow of wind could fill it. Aarthi gets even more angry but she does not yell or demand answers. She leaves and in her place a small box of ammunition is left. Felwinter was left behind this time and she did not return the next month.

“You can not be serious.” Felspring says to him. He makes no effort to respond as he walks past that halfway mark of the mountain. “You do not need to heed to her words Felwinter. You owe no one nothing.”

His steps crunch on broken twigs and ice. The weather is slow to return to the harshness of winter, it is still one season away yet the wind bites all the smae.

“Felwinter please.” Felspring blocks his path, pleading. “If you go down there you can not turn back. There are risks to this, they can never know what you are. What knowledge that is embedded into you. They might not kill you for it but someone will.”

It is a common argument, the secrecy that he must keep to himself. Felspring is right and Felwinter does not argue against it. But he must take risks if he wants to do this right. “They will not know. No one else will know.”

Her shell moves anxiously as she stares, “Ok, ok.” Her voice becomes quiet as she speaks to herself.

“Lightbearers don’t tend to know their history, Felspring. They won’t know what we do not tell them. This is our secret to keep.”

Felspring goes to his neck, the only place  not heavily covered in metal or leather. “So this is how it will be, huh? Just you and me.”

“This is our lie, and ours alone.” He whispers to her. 

It comforts her enough to allow him to continue down. Each step led him closer to the homes of these people, his people. Felwinter lost himself in tough as he waited at the edge of the village for courage to move forward. It was a surprise when it was Aarthi that saw him first. Her face  seemed to brighten as she makes her way to him

“Lord Felwinter.” She greets him, and Felwinter couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable and out of place being here.

“Aarthi, have you been faring well?” He attempts to be polite.

“Yes.” She then goes to grab his hand. She smiles brightly at him and only now he notices the paint on her hands. “Come, learn of the people you protect. We are preparing for the beginning of winter.” 

He goes without a fight when she begins to pull him through the forest of bricks. The fearful gazes weren’t as intense as before, most now curious. They were loud and yet so quiet, he can hear them speaking and moving about but his steps feel so loud. Aarthi still holds his hand as she weaves them though the village to its heart. Her clothes are thick and made of leather and fur.

There is a tangible taste of excitement in the air as he hears bells and laughter. They reach the center of the village and there is a large pit in the middle of it. But that was not the most memorable part. There are wooden poles that have hanging strings of bells that chime softly with the light breeze. The laughter of children playing as they pull around thin colorful fabric till it flows behind them like wings taking flight. 

Felwinter can see the way their elders watch them as they carry around boxes filled with colorful items. They all seem so-

“Happy.” Aarthi says to him softly, as if speaking any louder would disturb the sight. “They are like this because of the gifts you bring.”

He didn’t even notice that she stopped pulling him or the fact he was staring for so long. “I see. I am glad.”

She looks up at him with a strange expression before pulling him in a direction again. “We are planning a festival of sorts. It starts when winter starts and ends when the week from it ends.”

“And does it relate to where we are going?”

“Ever so observant, my Lord.” She says with a drip of teasing. It answers nothing but a general yes.

Next thing he knows he is fetching water for Aarthi from the nearby river. It is strange to be ordered around to grab such mundane items for a festival. She had said she is in charge of making colors. How does one make colors? This woman who climbed halfway up a mountain for tribute of all things is quite the character.

The table is stained with blotches of old color and new one. “Is this your job?” Felwinter asks as he places the water down in a clear spot. “You make dyes?”

“We all help around where we can, but yes I am the lady who makes dyes.” Stained fingers gesture for him to come around the table to her side. Once Felwinter was where she wanted him to be she began a lecture of how to make dyes. It was fascinating to say the least to listen to her explain pigments, color theory and that some colors were ‘ugly’ or prettier then some. How can something be considered ugly? Such a useless term.

“What color are your eyes?” She asks him as he hangs the newly dyed cloths.

“My eyes are more than one color.”

“Oh? Like heterochromia?” She clarifies.

Instead of an answer he takes off his helmet.

“Oh, I uh-”, she makes a coughing sound and covers her mouth with a fist. An odd, yet new gesture. “I knew you were Exo by your voice but, wow.”

Felwinter turns away from her to continue fixing where the wool now hangs amongst the cloth. “I am aware of my unusual appearance.”

“I don’t mean to offend, it's just, you're quite the picture.” She has moved closer, bringing her stone mortar with her. It made a consistent noise which filled the room.

“And what ‘picture’ do I make?” Curiosity was a damned thing.

She sets the mortar down and the sound makes him turn. “I’m not saying you look…bad looking. Just-” she trails off as she tries to find a proper word to describe him best.

He waits patiently for her to continue through her frustration of finding the right description. Her frustration topples over as she begins to spew out what he can only assume as synonyms. She does that until she finds her word with a loud shout of excitement that startles Felspring.

“Statuesque!” Her smile is large enough to create a crinkle in her skin in multiple places. The already wrinkles crease and she is, she looks-

“Comely.” He tells her and she looks puzzled, “I think that is a word for the picture you make.”

Aarthi’s smile falters for a second before it reappears. It is different this time, but he has not seen enough of her smiling to know what it means. The Exo does not mind the observing look she gives him.

Feltwinter returns for the Festival to be greeted with fire and dancing. The bells are loudly ringing as children let air play the instrument as they run around nearby. The dancers pull thin scarves around as if leading them to dance with them. He has never seen something as loud and as beautiful as this. 

Felspring is quick to share his awe as she too watches from the outskirts of the festivities. He agreed to help them build this, lending a hand in what was always to come. They had been so kind and even welcoming when he offered to help. They taught him so much in such a short time. Felwinter may not use all the knowledge they have given him but it is still something he would keep.

But he does not belong. So Felwinter turns to leave. This should be a hard boundary, a way to not get so attached. They are part of something greater, if he gets too emotional, if he fails them, would he be able to start again?

“What is it that you want to do, Felwinter?” Felspring asks him, she had not moved from her place. 

“What I want is unimportant. It is what they need that matters.”

Before Felspring could make a response a shout came from behind her. “Lord Felwinter! Join us!” Aarthi says. The colors she wore and the scene behind her painted a scene that he would remember for years. In spite of the new cold, Felwinter felt the warmth of the people- correction his people as they welcomed him again into the embrace of the new season.

There was no turning back from this. Even if he wanted to, they couldn't as they forfeited that choice the moment he allowed her to grab him by the wrist. There was something akin to pride in his core as he looked at the strength in these people. The hope and genuine joy in their humanity was brighter than any fire they could lit. 

A child small in stature with eyes that could only be so large and encompassing as they waved him down. Felwinter bends at the knee to their level as small fingers begin to grasp at his helmet. Felspring removes it for them and their brown eyes reflect the blue glow and get impossibly large. The smallest of noises escape from their mouth at the sight of him.

But they had been quick to recover and show a small smile of full teeth. That is when they pull out a clay container, the small fingers grasped onto the lid and inside was paint. It is then when Felwinter realized what they wanted from him. 

“Be careful.” Is all he tells them and the little thing looked as though they'd topple over by their aggressive nodding. It had made Felspring laugh as she went closer.

“What's your name?” She asked as she did a large circle around them.

“Von, my name is Von.” He says with a small whisper of awe as he watches her with such unbridled curiosity. 

“Well that's a very nice name, I’m Felspring, Felwinter’s Ghost.” As if to prove it she went back to Felwinter and pressed herself to his cheek. They must look ridiculous. When he looked up and to see what was still a buzzling festival, there had been some looks but none of it was anger or fear. It made him pause at that.

“Can I paint you too!” Von asks.

Felspring seemed to pause before looking back to Felwinter. There was a question in her look but he could only nod and hoped that it was sufficient.

“Of course!”

Felwinter wasn't sure if he should wash off the clay paint once he stood in front of a cold bowl of water. They had just gotten back and Felwinter had felt exhausted. He had never had so many people speak with him, touch him and he had not known what to do. Felwinter’s face was cracked in a green paint, copper if he remembered correctly was what made it green. 

The child, Von, made strange symbols that carried a meaning he forgot to ask. Carefully he brought a hand to his face and  allowed his fingers to touch the dried paste. It chipped away with pressure and was already ruined. The Exo brought the bowl up and sunk his face into the water.

Going away with the color left him empty. There is a blankness in his appearance that leaves much to be desired. A reminder of cold and blank rooms with broken and scared walls, a reminder of what he is and what he is not. Felwinter, now not not a Warlord, is not a man. 

It irks him that the title is so close to that of a tyrant. That in spite of being a near 100 million miles away, Felwinter would always be Rasputin at his very core. That he is a copy of some part of humanity's greatest weapon. Here he is playing the part and the thought leaves him helpless.

There is no mistaking that he is playing Warlord for these people, victims of a fate, a destiny that they had no choice in. There was more to offer now then just time, and it was terrifying. How much of himself would he give to them? Would the cost even matter? Felwinter is sure he would not die for them now but what if there was a time later down the line?

Felspring had stayed quiet as neither her judgment, agreement or pity, it hadn’t shown one bit.

A new routine blossomed right as winter began its fresh breath into the cracks of the mountains nearby. The Exo would walk the parameters of his growing territory, clean out the unwanted before returning to the village first then up. He has gotten far closer to them than expected. To hear Aarthi’s stories become something so tangible was an experience. He had never known someone before meeting them.

Children played more openly then before and Felwinter had to convince them to let them pass with as they called it making firecrackers. So he would open his palm and flick a small flame till it made a pop sound and repeat. They never seem to tire from it.

There is still a strange feeling when he walks by others and they greet him by calling him ‘Lord’. When Aarthi did it months ago he thought that she might be playing coy. It had been a shock when the others started to say it. 

Aarthi was someone far more important than she let on. When asked she said it was because of her age. Later he found out it was due to the fact she volunteered to be the one to bring tribute. Castor’s body was mutilated and caused fear, it may have been why it took them over a month to meet.

The fear was justified. At first it went away as they got used to Felwinter's presence in their lives. Felspring says it's because of Aarish's involvement in making him look domestic, tugging him around and making him do tasks to help around. But their fear was justified when Fallen had gotten too close.

He allowed himself to forfeit the routine for too long. He got far too close to them and he let the Fallen touch this village. Felwinter’s use of Void Light had become more and more destructive, powerful, the massacre he had to do to protect his people had to be more precise and careful. It is why he is being framed by fire and iron rather than the cold and warped Void or the static of Arc. 

Still he had not known the feeling that would sink when he turned with a sword of light and fire to see the fear in their eyes. When he moved to step closer, to press beyond their heavy stares to ask if they were okay . They flinch, they step back and their fear flares hotter than any fire Felwinter could ever try to make. Their Warlord stands before them, stained in the fire of their invaders as they stare at him like a monster . 

An Exo’s body is covered in armor to shield their body from pain, he had nothing to shield him from this. Again, their fears are not unfounded as he is not man nor lord. Just a machine in a knight's armor that is three sizes too big playing hero. 

Like a monster from a fairytale, once it's been seen runs away. Up a mountain and out of sight to what little home he has yet to build. Felwinter would not come down play with the children, talk to the people who wear bright and dull colors or the woman who made it for years. But the gifts to them never stop going halfway down the mountain, just the company behind it.

The silence is broken when Felwinter is due to leave to meet Rasputin again. It would be fair to warn them first and prepare. Small travels out were nothing to be warned about but this was further and therefore may leave the peak unprotected. The length of time he had left between them made him hesitate but it did not stop him from walking down.

Felwinter walked until he reached a home just past the heart of the community of bustling people. Carefully he knocked on the door and was quickly met with it being swung open.

“Who- Oh! Lord Felwinter, I am sorry for my rudeness but what can I help you with?” Von’s father as he comes to know him is a man that never seems to lack words. But he is competent as he is the one incharge of double checking the perimeter of the peak. Learning from him about Fallen tracks is one he has no desire to do again in spite of its helpfulness.

“I will be leaving soon. I am unsure of how long it would take,” He was unsure how to broach this topic without saying too much or too little. “Is there anything I should help with before I go?”

“Are you leaving?” He sounded startled by the prospect, this isn’t the first time he's left?

“I have found a lead to something. It just so happened to be further than expected.” Felwinter clarifies. “I thought a warning would be sufficient with mild preparation.”

A large dramatic sigh came from the man as he brushed his hand through silver hair. He has aged far more than he remembered. “No no I am sure we would be fine so long as it isn’t for a month.”

“A week at most.”

Regret of what he found was not a proper word for what he felt. Felwinter wanted to find what made the Golden Age a time where building reached the skies in such a short time. Site 6 was where he found the technology, SIVA. Rasputin refused to hand over the technology, he deemed it too dangerous in humanities hands.

Felwinter demanded proof, what he received made him see the painful truth. He watched in horror as SIVA tore apart frame after frame  that attempted to escape, combat or destroy. It was an infection as Rasputin made it turn on each other. It was a sick demonstration of what could be.

With how scattered everyone is on just this planet, he could not image the repercussions if a Warlord took power over it. So Felwinter leaves it and mends the metal doors together, he grieves for the future of his people. But he must protect this secret as well.

When he arrived back with heavier shoulders he see Aarthi waiting halfway down the mountain as he was now halfway up. Even with all he had turned his back to, why does he always end up back here? 

Another fresh start was due, he thinks as he wraps his coat around her shoulders as he leads them both down. There was much to catch up on and hurt to smooth over.

They had gotten closer as she took it upon herself to show him everything their life had in store. Soon he was hanging on every thread of her words again and again. The knowledge and the way she sees the world offered more than a simple change in perspective, it had made him see how the Lightless shine brighter than he could ever imagine. She would bring him to places around the territory but never went past the invisible lines drawn in snow.

“I have lived a whole life here.” She spoke softly as if it would spook the wind, she tilted her head to him. “You know I’ve lived through multiple Warlord’s reigns. I saw them fall and rise and even tried to kill one myself.” Aarthi laughs as though it hurts, maybe it did but she still kept her smile. “Of course it didn’t go well and I am scared for it but it was all worth it. Getting to be alive to meet you was worth it.”

Felwinter looked at her to see who she truly was, a woman who had survived long enough to see life on a scale which he didn’t even know he could begin to understand. He will though, however soon or late he too would have seen the world in all its burning light.

“I am proud to say that I am glad it was you who climbed the mountain.” He doesn’t know where this feeling came from but it made him blurt out something so vulnerable. 

“Really now you're just saying that to appease this old lady.”

“No, I mean it. I admire you, to have such strength and conviction. You have given me more than you could know.” Felwinter forced himself to look away from the silver strands of hair to the vast valley of snow. He couldn’t bear to see her face in fear of her reaction to his words. “I do not believe I would have come down that mountain if it weren’t for you.”

There was a moment of silence which lasted long enough for the sun to set. Her hand grasped his gauntlet as she lifted it up to intertwine their fingers. Her grip had weakened over the years and he had been too afraid to face it but it was apparent now with having to lift his hand. Felspring removed the barrier between skin and metal and Felwinter used the opportunity to bring her hand to the metal planes of his mouth. A gesture that was both a promise and a goodbye all in one.

“I promise you that I will continue to protect them, your people.”

The folds near her eyes have grown and become a permanent feature, yet all the same when they wrinkle with the force of a large smile. Felwinter was still left stunned, she has never looked so beautiful, so comely as she did under the stars. How could proof of a life being lived ever be seen as ugly?

“They are your people now too, Felwinter.” Her laughter was something he’d hope to not ever forget. “They have always been yours.” They stayed there watching the sky for a time, and oh how he wished it could have been longer.

Galanthus elwesii ‘comet’ are a flower that is as white as snow, they are useless when it comes to making dyes from them but they are native to the Peak. They were comely in looks and bring hope, they were the most reasonable choice in adding to the graveside arrangements, an immortelle in his case as they would be planted next to her headstone.

Even in her death, the hope she brought would last for more than a lifetime. This is the ‘time’ he could offer her.

[poo0b]

A Warmind's Son

Chapter 8: To Carve A Mountain To Reach Heaven

Summary:

A hunt for an Observatory turns to a change in the script. Again, Felwinter must adapt to the consequences of his own actions.

Felwinter dug his fingers into the metal crates to pry them open. The keys have been long lost and Rasputin stated that much of what's inside is unusable. It was filled with weapons and armor that belonged to Rasputin. 

“Why do you have these weapons and armor? Would it not be better to have your frames prebuilt with them.” It would save the hassle of the enemy scavenging them and using it themselves.

“ They were meant to be wielded by humans. You have met some of them before.” Rasputin is still using that language again. Last night he spoke English, normal English, Felwinter thinks, but he is unsure.

“Did you hire them?”

“ No. They were like you, except .“ Rasputin’s voice changed in volume but not in tone. It was as if his own words brought thought, he was quick to recover. “ You had lived with them...before. I can fix your memories, you would find them helpful.”

“No.”

“ I do not understand why you keep rejecting my offers to help.” Rasputin asks him confused, like a child who doesn’t understand that ‘no’ is a full sentence so they repeat their question over and over.

“I was given this life like this for a reason. Until I am done then I might decide to take you up on that offer.” The fear of suffocation returns in a heavy weight. “I wish to be Felwinter for a little while longer.”

“ You are not different people. You simply don’t remember who you are.” Rasputin states as a matter fact, as if it was a simple answer to make clear of a problem. The problem that aches Felwinter’s core and one that tears at his soul if he had one.

“You can not be sure that I would stay the same.” Felwinter admits. “You are a fragment of yourself. Can you be so sure that your others would make the exact same decisions as you do?” It was a question he didn’t know the answer to. It was not world shattering news to find out that Rasputin had split himself in pieces while his core resided on Mars. He was a piece of Rasputin himself only he had grown into an individual rather than be a part of a collective. Rasputin explained it being the reason for his statement many months ago, how he changed priorities. It had been an unsettling fact but had Rasputin been human, maybe it wouldn’t have been so strange; to allow emotions where logic should be.

“ No. I can not be.” Rasputin admits after a moment of silence and the answer weakens Felwinter to his fear. Not knowing is a scary thing, one he is increasingly becoming familiar with. It causes the conversation to fall as Felwinter finds a horned helm among the crates. It is broken where the face should be, it looked like it was ripped open then tossed out. He could find a better helmet but he gravitates to this one. He cannot find it in himself to look for another. The top was angled and protruded down and past almost like-

“A bird.” Felspring states suddenly, “It looks like a bird.”

“I suppose it does.” He says but he wasn’t fully sure, Felspring has been saying things that look like other things quite a lot. What bird looks like this? He had thought while turning it in different angles to see the damage.

Felwinter felt as though it would be an easy fix, he just needs the parts. They don’t stay in the bunker long once they find what they need and more importantly where to go. Scrapped Golden Age armor and weapons were bound to attract attention. Thankfully there were some that blended well enough to the sharp edges and blades of the Dark Age. 

“ A prototype, one that was meant to strengthen the user but failed to meet the requirement to be finished.” Rasputin had explained helpfully and Felwinter couldn’t help but continue to think of it. The helm is safely placed within Felspring's space but he can feel the way it inhabits it. Their link to each other with Light still catches him off guard. It is not such a terrible thing anymore, he had let go of that insecurity. Still like an embedded code deep within his core there are moments where he hesitates.

For what they have now is enough for what they will face once more as they head north. It is cold as winter seems to be more year round than seasonal. They are miles from the observatory that Felwinter wishes to go to. It was built on a mountain, where he could start to plan. A steady and safe location that was free from prying eyes, that included Rasputin. He could not fully trust him, not with how unstable Rasputin acts in the face of uncertainty. Not with him still attempting to suffocate him.

The harsh weather allows for less Fallen, but also less people and light bearers. But where there is vast empty land there is bound to be someone who wants to claim it foolishly. Where they see only the amount of land rather than its value. Still it surprises him briefly when a man appears in the vast white wasteland of snow and power.

“You will not go past me. I have claim to fight Castor.” Says a withered man with bulky armor that lacks insolation. For a man wanting to fight another on a cold mountain he is unprepared. He is actively using Solar but not out of readiness to fight but out of the need to not freeze. The cold air streams around him and his feet sink into the snow.

Felwinter does not respond to him and he can hear the crackles of the others light in the response to his silence. It is another fight that he will win, there is no need to be worried or dignify him with a response. Felwinter had not wasted his energy on staying warm nor will he waste it on this fight. Not when he now knows it could be better used in case this new Warlord is the one that claimed the mountain he needs. 

“I have no desire to fight you or Castor.” He calls out to the wary man.

“Bullshit!” He spits out, “There ain’t nothing out here but what's his for miles.”

The man is easily angered it would seem. But the information was easy to lure out of him which is the only reason why Felwinter continues to speak rather than place a bullet to his skull.   

“I am looking for an observatory. Do you know where that is?”

“Castor’s mountain has a castle, I don’t care for anything else in this stupid waste land.” It would seem that talking was getting nowhere now. A pity, Felwinter had hoped that he could get more out of this man. 

The fight, if it could be called such, did not last nor did Felwinter gain much from it. The man was weakened and near half frozen already. All he had to do was allow him to burn himself out, and he did. It made killing him quicker and it made the appearance of a little Ghost all the more welcomed. It was broken, the burst round from his gun must have scraped it where it hid from view. Felwinter was tempted to finish it off, it would be a mercy then to die in the cold. 

Yet he didn’t.

Worse of it he didn’t know why. Felwinter had kneeled down to scooped the small thing onto his hands and there was something in the way it looked at him that made him do it. It didn’t even make a sound, it watched fascinated and seemed to be surprised by the outcome as much as Felwinter was. There was something in the way it looked through him, in the way it saw him. It made him want to squeeze it dead.

“You are going to help us.”

They don’t respond but he knows that they heard his words.

“We are going to help humanity, are you coming with us or staying here with him?” Felwinter tilts them to see the body of their Risen. There was no hesitation in their answer, as silent as it was.

The walk to the mountain where Vostok Observatory resides, old and occupied. It may still have viable records of the effects of the Traveler on civilization and colonization of previously uninhabitable environments. Pre-Golden Age records may have better information for improving humanities odds. Negotiating with the Warlord is a risk, Warlords are poor negotiators so he must allow himself the expectation that he will kill Castor.

Still he should not allow himself to kill without reason. If he does he will be no better than a tyrant. 

“Better than Rasputin,” Felspring states the unspoken fear outloud into the cold. ”You already are.”

“I am of Rasputin.”

“You are not Rasputin, you came from him but you are more.” Felspring says it so softly. He does not believe her and turns his head from her. In refusal to be ignored she stops him on his tracts and follows him.

“You are Felwinter, you are a Lightbearer, my chosen. You are going to ‘raise humanity from ashes.’” The voice she uses is firm as she attempts to drive her words into him. “Rasputin is too busy somewhere off planet to do what you are doing now. You are actively trying, that means you care. Rasputin doesn’t, at least not enough to act.”

Felwinter wishes he could say something in response. That he could speak the thoughts and rebuttals, but nothing comes out. Nothing of importance.

“Mars.”

“What?”

“Rasputin is on Mars.”

Felspring hums, “And you know this?”

“There are moments where I know more than I've learned. I am unsure why I still remember, as vague as it is, I am attacked by this feeling of familiarity nearly everywhere we go.” Felwinter reminds her.

She doesn’t say anything for a moment. When she does speak again it is when she decides to huddle close to him to avoid the freezing air. “Will you ever tell me how?” She says it as if it would become a well kept secret.

He makes a huffing sound in response, one that was between the start of a laugh and the sound that couldn't be mistaken as human. “We may find out when the Traveler awakes and begins to speak.”

With that they keep walking, answers can be given once they get to the observatory. It gives him time to think of what those answers could be. If there were any to give. The cold air was harsh as the wind began to pick up. A storm will not be coming but it confirms that there is a reason for the lack of any activity for both Fallen, human and animal life. It offers safety and a chance that they will stay at the observatory for longer.

Felwinter could sleep in peace, without a gun in his hand and his back to a cold unforgiving wall. But that was a dream that would not come, there are people at the mountain's foot. A village and one that's population may be less than a hundred it is still the most he had seen. The most alive that is. And yet their large and thick clothes do nothing to hide their frail bodies.

They stared at him wary and scared, it did not sting. Their gazes did not heat his metal nor did it add any amount of hesitance to his steps forward and through their makeshift paths. Every movement forward is met with steps taken back. It would have been an instinct to hide in their home, yet they do not. Standing guard and scared, how curious. They offer no words and he offers them silence, Felwinter wishes he is wrong. That the coordinates are off, that this is not the right mountain. He does not wish to do this.

“We are in the right place. There had been nothing in the reports of a village, they must have come after the collapse, but why? There isn’t anything out here.” Felspring says to Felwinter, perplexed by the turn of events. 

“Exactly, there isn’t anything else out here.” Felwinter points out.

Felspring found no fault in that as they began their climb up the mountain. The snow had thankfully not iced over which made the pathways up easier. Still, it was not an easy ascent, the path was worn and weak. Each step is made with instinctual caution and a familiarity of someone who had done this before. It would not be out of the realm of possibilities that he had climbed mountains or hills. 

Felspring showed her curiosity to the speed in which he climbed but gave no questions for him to answer. Felwinter does not believe that she had doubted his words in remembering but it may have not been so obvious. Remembrance to a machine is the equal to breathing for a living being, it is something that is known even when nothing else is remembered.

For one thing he is sure about and that is this Warlord will not be easy to bargain with. For in front of him he can see the observatory as it reflects sunlight from its metal dome roof. Felwinter can feel the way his hope drains from his body as he takes a moment to take in the information. He can bargain, he only needs the information its drives and it would be quick so long as there was power.

There is strength in looking the way Felwinter does, to speak as he does without tone. Without emotions to be dissected he can lie easily, he just needs to say the right words, speak them clearly and with a conviction he knows he has. But still, he has doubts about what will happen. What if he can not do this?

Then we will face it together and we will treat it as though it has been the plan all along. Felspring replies kindly, her words are a simple reminder that they can not turn back, they could not fail. 

Felwinter let go of his tight hold on his Light to force a confrontation. It would be poor manners to sneak up on someone's home after all. The result was instant as he could hear the heavy crunch of someone's steps behind him. 

“Another Lightbear testing his luck to be King of this mountain?” His voice holds sarcasm and disinterest.

“No.”

“Oh and what do you want then stranger?” Castor now seems amused while still holding onto his previous disinterest. Felwinter could already tell that Citan was older by the way he held himself. 

“There is an observatory I had been tracking down, it seems to be yours.”

“What do you want with an old run down observatory?” Castor leans into Felwinter's space to intimidate him. It does not work but it is an excuse to see him upclose, his helmet is worn and his armor is weak as if not properly taken care of. For a man who lives in the snow he is unprepared, but that seemed unlikely.

“There are Golden Age records there and I am attempting to collect records.” 

“So you're just a little archivist, and nothing more?” He asked as he showed mild surprise.

“Nothing more.”

Castor leans away, finally giving Felwinter his space back. He then puts a hand on a gun at his side, “Now why would I let you take information out of my observatory on my mountain?”

Be careful with your next words, please Felwinter. Felspring's voice was a whisper in spite of the fact she would not be heard by anyone but him.

The threat was obvious and was met with a cold  and unbothered reaction. “All the information I find would be yours as well. Besides I am quite knowledgeable on other materials, your armor could be improved to a man who is King of the Mountain.” Felwinter attempts to coax Castor's ego. All Warlords are egotistical, one must be if they are to treat the Lightless as though they are lesser. 

Castors hand doesn’t leave his gun for an unnecessary amount of time. “Hmm, why don’t you come inside where it is warm. We can discuss the details of this arrangement over food.”

Felwinter can feel the way Felspring let out a sigh of relief in his head. “That would be most appreciated.” He responds in a near awkward manner with a slight nod of his head. 

Castor begins to lead Felwinter into a building that has proof of construction and damage. The Warlord keeps Felwinter in his sight, refusing to have his full back faced to him. “I never got your name, archivist.”

The walls are stone carved, they are unfinished and rough. “My apologies, I am Felwinter.” He responds while still staring blatantly at the architecture.

“Just Felwinter?” Castor asks as if something like a name would change by repetition.

“Just Felwinter.” He repeats as they pass a large mostly empty room, one with a single throne against the furthest wall.

“Well archivist, I am Castor, Warlord of this mountain and past.” The gloating tone is poorly covered. His blatant refusal to use Felwinter’s name was an irritating quirk that continued as he was led to what can only be a storage room.

One that was a starving man's dream.

There had been crates of food filling the shelves and walls, some were fresh and others were rotting. Castor goes in and grabs a fresher crate before walking past Felwinter, there was no time to stay and count the endless jars of preserved food and the rotten wasteful tendencies of this man. It burned him, it angers him that this is here at the top of a mountain when there are people at its foot starving, dying.

Do not do it Felwinter. Felspring warns, again her voice waivers as it had done months ago. He ignores her but does nothing worthy enough to cause her more distress, yet. He is deciding if he will even risk doing something foolish, he is close to what he wants. To what humanity needs.

Castor leads him to a well lit dining room, its table is large and well crafted, not scratch or blotches on its surface. It is very vast and grand for a man who lives alone with no one else but his Ghost. Daringly he moves closer and touches its surface, even though he wears armor that covers his hands he can feel the smooth surface.

“Interested in a table, you certainly are strange.” Castor says as he goes to sit in a large chair with his food. He then waves his hand to a seat in front of him.

“I find the craftsmanship admirable.”He lets his hand fall away from the table to then move across and sit. Felwinter watches as the man inspects his food before placing it on the table for him to eat. Not all the food gets the privilege of being placed on the table. After he is done picking his food he rolls a singular fruit in his direction.

“Now about that information you want, tell me about it.” The Warlord speaks just as Felwinter grabs the fruit, an apple. It looks yellow in the lighting of the fires around the room. He could taste it in his mouth in spite of never eating an apple before.

“You can keep what information I find that is useful, most is mundane and not worthy of your attention.” Something rattles him that stops him from eating the apple, from shedding his helmet for a bite of what he knows has a tart crisp flesh. 

“And yet you want the mundane.” Castor attempts to dig for something that isn’t there as he begins to eat.

“The information is useful to those living mundane lives, Warlord Castor. I am simplifying making it easier for them to find it.” Felwinter states plainly as he holds the apple carefully in a singular hand. 

Though Castor shows blatant curiosity he asks nothing more as he eats and Felwinter simply stays idle and quiet. He does not eat all he places on the table and takes to leading him to the observatory. It iniste;f is impressive and worn, it might be the oldest building on this mountain. 

The entrance is a large metal door that The Warlord simply makes his Ghost open. Inside were books, shelves stacked with them. Far smaller than the Library he awoke in but any amount of legible book was a rarity. Felwinter could not stay and admire as Warlord Castor climbed up a ladder. Up by the ancient telescope was a console, dusted and old but could very much work.

He begins to head for it before he is abruptly stopped by a hand. It did not touch him but it was a near thing.

"The generator is old and will take time to warm up.” The man with his arm still too close states.

“I understand.” Felwinter gestures a hand forward as Felspring goes to the console herself. She will start the process and he will finish it.

Warlord Castor looks at Felspring with a mild amusement, “I am sure your Ghost would be alright if I give you a tour of my territory. After all, who knows how long this beneficial relationship may last.”

Felwinter nods and shares the thought. Felspring makes her displeasure known but he pays no heed to it. 

“You know, you have yet to show me your face.” The man spoke plainly as he stared off the edge of the cliff. He had been showing how far you can see from one of the heist points of the mountain. Just below them you could see the lights of the village below. Everything looks so small, so insignificant. Miles painted in white as the sun begins its slow decline down the sky to the horizon.

“I am not the friendliest face.” Felwinter had no desire to show him anything.

“Hm, so you're ugly?” Castor asks as he looks down on the village.

“If you find metal ugly then yes.” 

The man turns to face him, “You're an Exo?”

Felwinter only offers him a nod as he joins him closer to the edge.

“There's not many of your kind left, I tend to have them melted for parts.” It is stated as if it was something normal. “A shame really, they were quite the useful bunch.”

The Warlord laughs as he thinks of something funny. “You see, people who are too weak tend to slow down the bunch, it weakens the strong. They weaken the batch as a whole, so if you remove the strong it forces the weak to follow in a more orderly manner.” Castor places a hand on Felwinter's shoulder. “They become strong enough to be useful and weak enough to not dare to be more.”

Again Felwinter looks down at the village and then the setting sun. “I see.” He then looks up at Castor's face and places a hand on his back. It is a friendly touch of a flat palm against metal. 

“If only you were of any use to me then?” Felwinter could see the way his face contorts at his words before he is shoved off the edge. The Warlord Castor goes down with a shout of Felwinter's name. His Ghost is barely offered a glance as Felwinter shoots it without hesitation before tossing it off to join its Lightbearer. 

He truly wished he didn't have to do this. 

[poo0b]

A Warmind's Son

Chapter 7: Darkness Within The Light

Summary:

Felwinter learns the reality of the Dark Age. In different times and in different moments he will find his place. He must learn and adapt if he truly wishes to help humanity.

The cold is a biting thing, it nips at clothes, skin and bones. It leaves a wake for death and misery as the entire world tries to fend it off or succumb to its embrace. It had been beautiful seeing it land softly on the grass as it fell from the sky. The glistening white as winter is welcomed in full.

There had been a dream he had, the same woman wearing white. She spoke about the changing seasons. She spoke of winter being one full of happiness and joy, where many holidays and celebrations are held. That there is hope in winter, that its beauty is captivating.

Felwinter isn’t sure he can say the same now as he shoots another Risen dead. It corrupted the white of the snow with red as their Ghost appears. He shoots that too as the little metal drone falls nearly soundlessly onto the powder. They had been ambushed and Felwinter failed to protect the lightless he was journeying with. 

Everyone had died but him.

“There was nothing that you could have done differently that would have changed this outcome.” Felspring says to him quietly.

“It still should have never happened.” He responds as he makes way to the lightless bodies. It was a party of seven. They were survivors of a Fallen attack on their previous Warlord’s land. They escaped and were planning to move north in hopes of stumbling upon a nicer Warlord or even something abandoned.

To trade one master for another, be it destiny or a risen. It was not shameful, it is a choice that makes the most sense considering their situation. They would not have survived much longer traveling in the snow. Though chances of having a reasonable Warlord is slim but even a day longer alive is a day worth fighting for. 

He had joined them as a lightless merchant. It was easy enough to hide himself as one of them, he would tell them stories and in turn they would give him knowledge. It was strange to lose his helmet for cloth and a hood. They had asked about him being an exo and he gave answers.

“Ah, it must be nice to not have to massage the blood flow back into your limbs.” One had said as he sat by the fire putting pressure onto his bare calves. His teeth bared in a smile as he turned his head down to continue. 

Felwinter, as it turned out, ran warm. Though he did not have lungs like most Exos he still let out a gust of steam from his mouth. An effect from his body keeping the moisture out of delicate areas. It amused the younger ones every now and then whenever they saw the vapor.

They had taught him how to survive as a mortal. How to properly dry out meat for travel and easy preparation, explained the process of heating ice into water and then cleansing it from any bacteria. It was obvious they had lived around snow for a notable portion of their lives. They were human in every possible way. 

They sang songs and played games. They had even taught a few to Felwinter as an attempt to get him to open up with them. There had been one game involving tossing bones. It was hard to do on the snow so they carried a board around for it. It seemed strange how they would go out of their way to carry the thick plank but the thought was crushed the moment they started to play. He could see the way their eyes lit up and how competitive it was. How the elders would look on at them and it was something that changed the harshness of the cold for something warm. 

Yet here they lie, dead. Three risen had attacked them, they wanted their supplies and were killed for it. Felwinter couldn’t protect them, he wasn’t quick enough nor was he strong enough. He couldn’t even save one of them. He had been travelling for months and in doing so he had learned so much. He has fought other Risen, Fallen and yet. Felwinter simply isn’t strong enough.

With a heavy body he carries their corpses so that they may rest next to one another. Fixing their clothes to be more worth of the lives they lived then the way they died. Carefully removing their bags and putting them to the side. He finds the bones and gives one between each of their bodies.

It leaves one extra. One that feels heavy in weight as he holds it between gloved and bloody fingers. Felwinter grips it firmly as he tossed it into his palm, he will not forget. He will be better, he must. Felwinter knew it then and he knows it now. Change must be made, but how?

How can he do this all alone?

“We will keep going north.” Felwinter says to Felspring as he turns away from the bodies. Nature will neither be kind nor will it be cruel to their bodies. That is all he can promise them in these trying times.

The snow is harsh as it blows past him in streaks. The furry is loud as it whips past him while his boots crunch the fallen snow beneath. North he went and there he found a Warlord's keep. Felwinter tucked his light to himself and carried forward.

It would do no good to be found in another Risen’s territory. Pressing the light so close to himself was something he learned quickly. In time he will be better at it, for now it will suffice so long as he remains far enough. 

But that thought is quickly diminished as the sound of Arc light is used. Felwinter breaks into a sprint near the direction of the sound. 

“Felwinter! This is a terrible idea!” Felspring warns.

He doesn’t respond and chooses to continue to pass tree after tree. The snow and wind is harsh and sounds like screaming as he tears against it. The moment that he could even see a trace amount of a person he slows enough to not make any noise, still inching forward.

There is a small village and further he could see a commotion. Felwinter can barely make out what is being said where he keeps low to the ground so he moves forward to hear better. He finds himself pressed against the wood of a house. There he sees the Risen and a group of people to the front of her.

The Warlord has a boy on his knees with a gun cocked to his forehead. There is a woman and even smaller children behind him begging and pleading for him to be let go, that what he did was a mistake. “Please my Lord, he is just a child!” The mother shouted as her other children's eyes had tears running down their face as they too begged and wailed with their mother. The children were being held by others to stop them from running.

The Warlord is laughing at them in near hysterics. She tells them that the boy knew what he did and that he will be another example of why they should not cross her. There is a grin in her voice that she doesn’t hide. 

“Next time, make sure your other children don't touch what's mine.”

The shot rings out loudly and the boy falls to the sound of a scream. The woman curls and sobs as other villagers attempt to comfort her. Her children had hidden themselves in the group as the Warlord finally walked away. 

Don’t do it. Felspring warns.

I am not doing anything, Felwinter replies.

But you are thinking of doing something. Killing her isn’t what they need. She says calmly. It would do no good to leave them vulnerable to Fallen. We don’t even know what he stole. 

Her reasoning is sound as it’s always been. It had once been a painful reminder to all he doesn’t know but now, even now it is a comfort. Still, he wishes he could do something. But he has nothing to offer other than his light, what use does that do in these times? 

Is one boy worth the lives of everyone else?

Felwinter gives a final look to the crowd at that question, then stands quietly. The action in itself was an answer, a cruel and harsh one but one not done out of malice, rather it was done to not worsen already open wounds. The sound of cries rattled the trees as he moved closer to the mother. He makes no plan to forget the pain he witnessed, but he cannot stand there silent as someone grieves for the loss of their son. Felwinter stands behind her and offers her a choice, and she declines him. She would not allow her grief to kill her other children, that was her choice.

The following months Felwinter attempts to gather more information on how scattered humanity is. He continues to pass knowledge to people, from both other people and knowledge from Rasputin’s many bunkers. He cannot guarantee they will survive to make use of it let alone pass it on. Writing it down and passing it along seemed to be a more stable chance, if only paper wasn’t such a scarce resource. 

If he kills the Warlords then another will take its place or the people will die with the lack of protection. Many times he had offered a choice to the people that are chained by the immortal and immoral. Many times that it had caused the destruction of their homes. That in acting out their choice it had demolished what little they had. How they looked defeated and confused by the destruction of freedom. Many knew that without protection they would die, but they still made the same choice.

They kill their warlords with Felwinter's Light.

He offered knowledge on how to survive on their own, and then turned his back to them. There is nothing else to offer, nothing that could be promised other than the choice to try again. It was painful to watch them struggle, to struggle with them.

The Fallen are relentless in their triumphs against humanity, he alone is unable to thin out their numbers.

Helplessness has become too small of a word for what he feels.

Felwinter has killed countless Lightbearers and Fallen in order to survive himself. Here he feels the Light flow throughout himself as the ache of death settles in a living body before dispersing. Felwinter gives it no thought as he swipes at his murderer. His sharpened fingers manage to take their helmet off. His other hand goes to Felspring to bring her close. Pain flared through his hand as it was shot. He had barely shielded Felspring, she could have died. 

The reasoning behind the others attack was either he saw Felwinter as easy prey or out of desperation, he would not know. The hit had made the other being stumble as they had not expected Felspring to complete the revival. Felwinter was quick to take the shot for her. He snapped his fingers to make space, solar flying high and at the attacker. It was a risk Felspring took that could have ended badly, risen do not recover quickly after a revival. 

She could have died , the thought echoes painfully.

The thought made it easier to press pass the pain and rise to his feet weaponless. This Lightbearer is more vicious and faster than Felwinter. Still, he will not bend, he will not waiver. Exos are built for war and he is no different. Felwinter knows how every inch of his body moves, the limitation of joints and the weight of his metal. A human mind has the limitations of exhaustion and doubt, he isn’t human.

With a deeper and violet Light he charges forward to not allow them time to attack. He doesn’t know where his gun lies but he can’t waste a moment to look for it. Allowing his murder a chance to recover is too costly than a measly rifle. This Lightbearer can’t shoot any viable or weak points with the closeness he forces, he can feel it pierce and bounce off his armor. Felwinter lands a hit to their stomach before grabbing their skull when they attempt to recover.

There he pulls Light to his finger tips and devours, he knows not what he takes but he takes it all without regard. They struggled against him and managed to get out of Felwinter's grasp which made them fall onto the cold powder. He follows them down and grabs them by the throat and repeats. His grip gets stronger as desperation from both sides becomes unbearable.

Felwinter can’t recall when the body goes limp, he can only feel the echo of the burn of the other Light scratching at his insides from his previous death. The way it had killed him and taken his metal and warped it until he could no longer hold onto life. Felspring had said they were safe, they both were until they weren’t. Felwinter was a fool to let his guard down.

The Light of a Ghost appearing startled him back.

In any other instance he would grab the Ghost, crush it, kill it, but the fight left him aching and he still bleeds painfully. The back and forth of surviving and fighting to scrape by is a ritual that continues to test and break. Felwinter is immensely, painfully tired. He has not slept in months but even then he does not think that the weight of his body would disperse.

And the Ghost simply stares as if frozen in place. Whether it was because they were thinking or out of fear, Felwinter does not know. He lets go of the now dead Lightbearer and leaned back to fully face the Ghost.

“Will you kill me?” The little Ghost asks. His voice holds an indifference, as if he knew the outcome and had accepted it.

“Would your Lightbearer kill me if I didn’t?” Felwinter responds. He wishes to sleep off this ache already. 

He neither changed tone nor did he seem all so surprised. “I wouldn’t know.”

This is the first time he had an interaction with a Ghost without their Risen. Felwinter would be more curious of the information he could gather had he not been so tired. Still, a question tumbles out of his mouth.

“Do you not know them well?”

“I know that they are strong and resilient. That is all I picked them for.” The Ghost admits, here there is a tone that Felwinter does not recognize.

Felspring this time asks a question. “Is that what the Traveller told you to do?”

“Yes?” His voice became perplexed. “We are all told to choose someone strong, some of us do not choose right.” They pause and face Felspring, uncertainty pressing an air of confusion to their voice. “Did you choose him?”

Felspring does not answer immediately. “I was told to save him.” She says quietly, as if she was unsure if that was the right answer.

“I-”, the Ghost starts but never finishes, voice cracking and dying out. “The Traveller spoke to you?” He finally lets out. You could barely hear his voice but the desperation for answers, for clarity. It is something that could not be missed. Especially since it was something that Felwinter knew so intimately.

“Not in words, but I knew what the Traveler had meant and who.” She says.

The Ghost turns to inspect Felwinter closer. He then starts spinning around him with a beam nearly blinding Felwinter's eyes. It makes him flinch under his gaze, he finds very quickly he doesn’t like being inspected. Due to the closeness he could see a crack in the Ghost’s eye and the dents in his shell.

He eventually stops and seems almost satisfied with his findings. “You are strong, very strong.” 

“All Exos are, we are built for war.” Felwinter states while standing up from the body. 

“Yes, but there is more.” The Ghost turns to look at the sky. “I was searching for the wrong strength.” He mumbles quietly, it was meant to be said to himself rather than for them to hear. “Thank you. I know what to do now.” The Ghost then begins to leave. Why would he leave?

“Where are you going? What of your Lightbearer?” Felwinter calls out.

“I am returning to the Traveler, I will choose another. Maybe as a different Ghost but the next will be more than strong.” He responds as if it was a simple matter. His small form disappears easily among the nature of the forest, leaving behind everything.

If only Felwinter could make such a heavy choice as though it was an option that could be taken. To know that you would not look over your shoulder with regret, that to leave it all behind to start again was better than staying and dying with your choices. The machine looks at the dying out fires and warped ground: a reminder of the desperation in survival, and turns its back to it so it may face humanity once again.

It weighs heavy on Felwinter's mind as he witnesses death after death after death. Some by his hand and other by another, all which he witnessed. Failure and uncertainty acts like heavy chains with ever step forward Felwinter walks. With every ounce of knowledge Felwinter gains he throws a dice, a gamble of chance that it may help another. That in teaching, in sharing he is lifting the weight off another's shoulder. He does not know if they will survive long enough to share let alone use what he gives, but he must have hope.

If Felwinter, an immortal being who could live long enough to see stars burn out, he who can never decay with the touch of time. If he does not continue to hope for the survival of humanity, what is left?

He will do this for them, for humanity he will light the way.

But today he will rest, even Felspring relents and asks him to try and rest. To fix the ache that is mental rather than physical. Pain is easier when it is consistent, but now with holes in his body and the painful limp it takes all his energy. So with heavy steps he follows the lullaby of Rasputin's music and finds the console he waits at. There he asks a small favor of Rasputin, one that is easily given.

“You said you wished to protect me. So I ask this of you now, let me sleep here in the safety of this bunker, just for tonight.” Felwinter asks weakly as he approaches the chair in front of the console, limp now healed by Felspring.

“ Of course. No one but you have access to this bunker and all defense protocols are at adequate levels. You are safe here for more than a night.” Rasputin’s voice alluded to the option of staying longer. It is one that is ignored.

Felwinter says nothing to the response. He swerves the chair to the side of the console before going to a crawl. There is a space beneath that he tucks himself in and with a nudge of his foot  brings the chair close enough to make his form entirely hidden. His spine is pressed uncomfortably against the metal and his body is too large to be fit in such a small space but he does.

For the relief of a sense of safety, however frail or faux is enough. He would not be attacked in his sleep nor will his meager belongings be taken. This is enough to allow himself to hide under the loud voice of Rasputin speaking. Felwinter can faintly hear Felspring respond, but he is too delirious in his exhausted state to hear words. It acts like a lulling white noise that leads him to sleep.

He dreamt of her again, the woman in the lab coat. It had hurt this time watching her talk to Rasputin. He had not known why but it did. She treated him so kindly, as if he was not a machine, an AI, a weapon. No, she had treated him like an open mind to be taught and in turn Rasputin treated her with equal kindness. Again a repeating question arises, what changed him?

When he attempted to get closer, to see more of the strange dream. Something made a loud noise behind him and when he went to turn to it he found himself pressed to the floor. Something weighed on his back, he couldn’t escape, and it kept getting heavier. Felwinter couldn’t see and couldn’t feel anything but the cold expanse of being drowned under the weight of something. No, not drowning, he was suffocating ? Why was he-

Felwinter awoke from the dream feeling strange, sick even. His head, back and hands hurt, again he is reminded of the possibility it was something he wasn’t meant to see. Yet he does and continues to see what he should not know. Perhaps the connection between him and Rasputin runs stronger than the Light, it might not be something the Traveler could even stop. Exos are something that Ghost struggles to understand, it was something Felspring unintentionally admitted.

There was still so much to know and Felwinter can still feel the weight of it pressing down on him. It was as if he was holding himself against gravity, a powerful and unwinding force that demands rather than asks of anything in its charge. Bit by bit he is sinking further and further down till he is on his knees trying pathetically to keep the sky from falling down on him, on humanity.

Felwinter had felt ridiculous when he finally decided to move from beneath the console. There were most likely better spots he could have chosen to hide under the safety of but in his distress they had not existed. Clarity was such a strange thing to behold after such a tiring journey.

“Good morning!” Felspring sounded cheery as she spun around. The room looked different, brighter now and less broken down than other bunkers. Though he wasn’t sure if it was due to his exhaustion that he did not notice these small details..

“Good morning.” He responds as he grips onto his armor to feel the bullet holes and scuffs. It's a physical echo of the previous battles and all the hundreds before it, the sin of surviving is not a gentle reminder. He is simply relieved that he did not awake to the feeling of those cold hands digging into him. Felwinter had dreamt of hundreds of frames chasing him, breaking him, killing him under Rasputin’s iron command.

It was this core fear that made him reluctant to return, and to stay. Desperation was a scary pull of power. Though the more Rasputin and Felwinter talked the more he could understand him. Nonetheless, fear is an instinct that has kept him alive. There is no fault in trusting them both if it means staying safe.

“You seem content.” Felwinter states to Felspring after taking off the beaten armor. The damage makes the armor useless now, better to go without then to walk around with a shiny plate of metal.

“Rasputin and I came to an agreement.”She said as she fluttered about.

“Oh?”

“I got access to some information and now I know where nearly every bunker or Golden Age facility where we can communicate with him. This will make communication easier and most of all we can utilize the bunkers more efficiently.” Felspring sounded proud of herself, as she should be.

But they have been doing this for such a short time, there is no way to see results. No statistic or document to rely on and they are doing it alone. How could they do something so big as changing the world? 

It is a bitter truth, that this is something he could not do. Rasputin refused any more involvement when it came to humanities struggles. Felwinter could not figure out why? It had led to many arguments, petty and loud ones that left them both hurt. It was beyond frustrating but he must adapt.

“The world is a control group.” He murmurs to himself.

“What?” Felspring asks incredulously.

“We can not change the world by ourselves, Rasputin called this an experiment, we will treat it as such.” Felwinter turned to the console in search of something, somewhere. “We must first start with a small group, then we can figure out how to move forward and expand.”

“An experimental group vs. a control group.” Felspring responds. She seemed to immediately pick up what Felwinter is implying.

“Exactly.” He responds quickly as he finds maps of nearby sites both owned by Rasputin and not. “We don’t have to take on the world. We just have to be the stepping stool for humanity. They can do the rest.”

Felwinter then tilts his head to Felspring. “Do you remember that list?” He says as he gestures to the projection. This is more plausible, he cannot be ignorant, he must learn and adapt. Felwinter is a Lightbearer, if there is something he has it is time, and he has enough of it to give to them, humanity. He will give them time.

[poo0b]

A Warmind's Son

Chapter 6: A Conversation

Summary:

Felwinter has a conversation with Rasputin. In the end it leaves him with more questions but a sense of progresses with the Warmind.

Felwinter stood at the door of one of Rasputin's many bunkers, the song was loud and different from the one at The Archive. It still aches all the same, like it was something he should have known. Maybe he did, once before he was risen. He and Gryphon-11 had gone separate ways soon after the story Felwinter told. It was bound to happen eventually and to a point Felwinter was relieved. 

Their journey together was insightful. He learned many things and gained what he thinks is a friend. How strange and how unexpected, to that before Felwinter had been so sure of who Gryphon-11 was; a loud and childish man. Only to find a kind wisdom hidden beneath a smile. Their goodbyes were quick but before Gryphon could get too far, he yelled to him.

“I’ll keep your secret safe with me! Don’t you worry! You are always welcomed if you find yourself in the Red Valley!”

It was kind, and very much like him. But the moment was short lived, once they were out of sight Felwinter started their hunt for Rasputin. What happened was something that could not happen again. Gryphon had said that everyone was under the impression that Rasputin was offline following the Collapse. Danger will follow if Warstats are simply falling behind their heels.Even more so, Felwinter could not allow himself to be ignorant. 

The song was easy enough to find, and he told Felspring the moment he heard it. An easy chase to hear it get louder and louder till they reached steel doors.

Felspring appears and begins to open the door. It is a quicker feat despite the last time being opened by Rasputin. This bunker is large and cold, the walls are gray and rusted in the dark. Felspring shines a light to brighten their pathway down, he did not know she could even do that but made no move to acknowledge it.  Down further through the bunker he found bodies, at first there were only a few. They were old and skeletal, the armor they had on was not of Rasputins.

Further down there was proof of a battle, one that left death in its wake. Holes bigger than Felwinter's frame were carved into the walls, some revealing pipes and framework of the bunker. There were more bodies, there were more people down here that died. They laid scattered across the facility along with empty boxes and crates. Whatever altercation happened here, the survivors took all that was left. 

A few larger crates blocked the path forward but it was easy enough to vault over and climb past. The moment Felwinter boots touched the ground he could hear the creak of a door opening. There further down was a single door open to the left, red light filtering out, waiting. He readied his gun in the off chance that someone else was here and walked forward. There is no one in the room but Rasputin.

He was expecting another document, but instead saw a bright projection. It is another thing he must have seen before, it is as intense as the sun. It's strikingly familiar and Felwinter is at a loss to speak first. He is sure that this is Rasputin.

And Rasputin is speaking to him.

“ Welcome back Siddhartha, ” a loud voice calls. It is distinctly Russian, but the words are spoken backwards. It was strange and it echoed in his processor, what was even more strange was that he could understand it. But still it feels new, as if Rasputin didn’t always speak like this. What changed that?

“Did you attack the Fallen tank?” Felwinter asks abruptly.

There was a pause in Rasputin’s movement, as if he wasn’t expecting the question. He was quick to recover from his shock, if that is what it was. “ Yes.” He spoke.

“Why?”

“ Why wouldn’t I?” 

“You could have hit us.”

“ I was very precise in my calculations and took all I could into account before firing. It would have never hit you.” Rasputin’s voice is neither full of confidence or arrogance but still strikes as someone who knows they are right. Spoken as though each word is fact.

“What if you miscalculated?” Felwinter felt himself grow agitated, jitters that sting and singe his chest.

“ I can assure you that the chances of me miscalculating are very slim.”

The feeling that scorns his throat came back in full. It burned to speak even though he knows his temperature has not changed. 

“You didn’t take all into account. You miscalculated.”

Another pause, then the room brightened by a notch. “ How so?”

“You did not take into account the fact that you are supposed to be offline.”

Rasputin doesn’t respond, he instead waits for Felwinter to continue.

“You also failed to consider that you attacked a companion that I was with. My connection to you is a danger, had he been hostile he could have killed me permanently for it.”

Gryphon-11 couldn't kill him, he was sure of that. But Rasputin doesn’t know that, he also doesn’t know that Gryphon wouldn’t have tried to.

“ I can find your companion. No one would witness the event.” Spoken as though it was a simple matter.

“No, that is not what I want.”

“ How can I make amends? I can erase the issue, I can eliminate all dangers.” Rasputin’s voice has changed tone, it is higher pitched and questioning. He is not understanding.

“The issue is that you intervened.” Felwinter attempts.

“ How am I supposed to protect you?”

This makes Felwinter pause. “You can’t.” He says after a moment. It is a realization that echoes within the empty bunker. Rasputin can no longer protect Felwinter, maybe he never really could. Is that why Rasputin is being so irrational?

“ I can. I have all the necessary means to protect you. You did not allow me to keep you safe and hidden within my code, now you state I cannot protect you in this manner.”

“When you drop your warstats so close they leave me vulnerable.”

“I do not understand. They did not injure you.”

“No, but in doing so you allow an opening of doubt in any who witnesses. They will assume I am a danger or a tool to get to you.”

“That can be solved.” He reiterates.

“No.” Felwinter growls out. He steps forward to attempt to drive his words forward with the motion. ”You cannot kill them or it would prove them right.”

“ I fail to see the importance. You are my priority.”

“Humanity is your priority!”

“ I had changed directives, I had lost and failed to keep you safe. I will not fail again. You-”

“Rasputin!” Felwinter spoke loudly in order to cut him off. His throat feels as though it was on fire. It burned as though a force was stopping him from speaking.

“I am here and I am alive. I can still hear the music you call me with no matter how much quieter it's gotten. Please, Rasputin, I am not the being as I once was but I am here.” Felwinter doesn’t know why he keeps repeating his words. Whether that is for himself or not he is unsure, it might be neither in all honesty. 

Rasputin stays silent and listens or perhaps he is too stunned to speak. It is a push that Felwinter needs to continue through the choking feeling of speaking.

 “I have moments where I am remembering things but it is just out of reach. This room is familiar, I find myself dreaming of things that don’t seem to be mine. I am lost and confused and I-.”

He looks at Felspring for a moment, she is looking at him and taking what he said to account. He never spoke about the dream. Of that woman he had to know, to have known. He still can feel the cool air of the room.

It was easy to think of Gryphon’s words, how as risen we are living a thousand lives in one. So many chances and choices.

“I do not know who I once was but in order to be someone in this life I need you.”

“If I can not protect you, how else can I help you?”

“You are Rasputin, The Warmind and Guardian of Humanity. You have seen the Golden Age and past, you have knowledge beyond anyone one in the entirety of Sol. I am someone who can share that knowledge and help humanity on a one to one basis. Teach me, and just as before I will teach you as well as the world.”

“What if you fail? What would you do if they do not learn, what if you are rejected?”

“I have hope that it is possible.”

Another beat of silence that feels longer than it should. The sound of generators turning on as the lights in the hall brighten. The action in itself is a response. One that relieves the tension out of Felwinter.

“You have access to everything you need for this experiment of yours.”

“Thank you.” Felwinter says as he feels every part of him grow lax. “Can I contact you from any bunker of yours?”

“Yes.” Rasputin states. “I will be waiting for your return.”

“Before that, as promised there is much I wish to share with you.” There is much he wants Rasputin's insight on, even though he knows he may not take it into account. “I awoke in a library, perhaps there are stories I could recite to you if that is amendable.”

“Yes, if you would.” There is a sound of fondness in his tone. One that Felwinter must ignore if he is to progress. Rasputin is more emotional than he previously thought. It would not be far fetched to think that he has not mourned for the loss of humanity, for the loss of Siddhartha Golem.

The stories were easy to recall as he pushed the thoughts away. They slipped off his tongue, each word searing out the fire in his throat. They made progress and it leaves a hopeful feeling that buries itself deep within Felwinter. 

The knowledge in this bunker was geological and listed how the nearby rolling valleys were to be properly utilised. There were scientific records of the health of the environment and wildlife. They kept records of how best to add human life to the area. It was rich for farm life and could be cultivated in rapid numbers with proper funding.

But it never was due to the plot of minerals underneath. There listed documents and documents of failed attempts on both parties to decide whether they should mine into the earth for its valuables or have it be used for agriculture. 

Felwinter stopped his dives into what happened and instead asked Felspring to take in the knowledge of how best to test for the health of the environment for agricultural use. They copied documents containing any information that could be deemed useful enough to know.

Still the bodies of the bunker were a mystery and one that could be solved if they looked further. They didn’t in the end, there is no use in looking for something that no longer matters. Humanity is not at a point where companies can do petty arguments over land. People are dying actively, that is what should be focused on. 

They left after nearly two hours of going through all the documents deemed usable. For the night Felwinter slept in a quiet part of the valley with Felspring keeping watch. “I will wake you when the sun comes up or when trouble finds you.” She promises. All Felwinter could do was nod and allow himself to drift into the night.

[poo0b]

A Warmind's Son

Chapter 5: Foundations

Summary:

Foundations can be built upon many things, pain, love, lies. But just because something can be built with it doesn't mean it will last the testament of time. Felwinter must decide how is it he wants to build this new life, it will all start with a story.

The fire crackled loudly as Felwinter tucked himself against a rock. His legs bent under his chin as he stares at the flames flickering and twisting just like the feeling in his abdomen. He feels unwell as he waits for Gryphon to speak up first. To ask his questions to Felwinter about what occurred. He didn’t have to wait for long.

“So…about those frames.” Gryphon trails off and attempts to joke. He leans back against a tree, his smile is lopsided as he looks at Felwinter.

Felwinter all but slams his forehead to his knees to hide himself. The man is so infuriating, so stupidly calm about the fact he was attacked by frames sent by a Warmind to collect Felwinter. He would rather fight more frames and Fallen than to have this conversation, he had thought bitterly.

“Was that a question?” Felwinter asked, his voice slightly muffled by his knees.

“Trying to lighten the mood.” Gryphon’s voice is strained. This makes Felwinter look up, the Exo isn’t as unaffected as he makes himself seem.

Another awkward sheep of silence fell on top of them in the warm embrace of their campfire. It made Felwinters throat feel hot and tighten as if the fire was within him. He isn’t sure if he would be able to speak if he hadn’t spoken already. Felspring’s silence on the matter only worsened the feeling. As if on cue she spoke-

This is on you on how you wish to handle this. You could lie, tell the truth, flee or kill him. I will be right beside you for anything you choose.

The options weigh heavy as he can only think and think and think. Playing out the outcomes leads to entirely different scenarios. Felwinter could kill Gryphon and his ghost, he could then bury this all behind him. But he still know, he would be the only one to know that this occurred. Or he could pull a convincing lie from his tongue and allow no fight to happen, but it had to be a lie he could keep up with. So many options and scenarios where things don’t go as planned or perfectly.

He snaps his mouth shut with a loud sound of metal hitting metal. He could hear Gryphon jump at the sound of it. With a steady voice he pulls his head from the shielding comfort of his own body.

He will make Gryphon understand, he can do so without facial expressions or tone.

“I will tell you a story. You will listen and only after can you ask questions.” Felwinter's gaze stays steady and unbroken as he tries to pierce Gryphon’s frame for any answers or clues that may lay vulnerable. Gryphon for all that he could say and would have said, chose to stay silent and nod.

 Felspring appears out of curiosity and for a more immersive experience of hearing Felwinter speak. She would not speak until he was done.

“In a kingdom as old as rock, a wicked man made a golem made out of swords and glaves. Untouchable and sharp, he rose, given the command to fight wars and carve a way for humanities triumphs.”

A machine made for war…

“This Golem did so for many years. For that is why he was why he was alive. But one day someone changed him, he thought beyond the metal of his skin, beyond the sharp edges. They spoke to him as if his body was of flesh and bone, as though he had a soul.”

To be more than what you are made to be…

Felwinter could practically see the woman from his dreams behind his eyes. Her voice light, and cheery, she spoke ever so kindly. It hurt his head to think about, as if it was something that wasn’t his to remember, to know. He lets the voice go past his mind to where it belongs.

He heard the gasp that Gryphon let out. He saw the way the man clasped his hands together with a small clink. It eased the tightening coil around his throat at his childness.

“He made an etching in his metal, a decree, he would protect humanity because he loved them. But he could not walk among them. So he made a golem, he tore a blade from his body and covered it with wax.”

A machine makes a machine, a kin to itself…

Felspring's sight is heavy and blaring. Unbiased she provides a calm in spite of the cruel weight, it is a comfort to be seen and a vulnerability to be known.

“This new being would be made with a purpose more kind than his own, it would live among humanity. It too will learn and will love, happy like a child it would tell the sharp Golem of all it has come to learn, to love.”

“Experience is the teacher of all things.” He spoke into him.

Felwinter pauses and stares at the flickering flames again. It would crackle and sing a beautiful red as it engulfed and ate its fill of the wood below it. Instead ate slowly, as if to listen to the story Felwinter wove from broken memories and unfinished dreams. Still it burned bright and flared high. The thought brought pain that was filled in that same red. He too let it go, it was not something he was meant to know.

“Then one day something that the Golem could not fight came and stepped on the kingdom until all that was left was dust. He wept.”

Gryphon let out another sound, but this one was not unlike a gasp, this sound carried sympathy. As though he could imagine its pain.

“But then the being made of wax turned to metal, not of blades or glaves but of armor. He would be living armor, no more is he a golem. Its father would awake.”

SIDDHARTHA GOLEM identified with [O] energy signature.

“He would not hear the ring of the sword in his chest. Instead he would hear a song lulled by the Golem made of sharp cold metal. The old Golem would try to grab and cage the armor only for the son to fight back. For the son would not remember being made of wax.”

A shocked gasp was made past the fire, it was not Gryphon this time but his Ghost. It caused Felwinter huff at the childness of it. They are both very alike.

“The son called to the old Golem, ‘You who saw the Kingdom before the dust, I ask of you to teach me, so I may bring it back to the peace it once had.’ The sharp Golem agreed on a condition, he too will teach the Golem just like his son.”

He remembers the promise they struck in the red room of the archive. The pleas that fell in tandem off his tongue as he scrambled to keep a grasp on freedom. He had only just started this life, he could not have it taken away so soon. He couldn’t do that to Felspring.

Felwinter looked back to Gryphon to see an awestruck expression though his eyes were sharp. He was connecting the dots just as Felwinter knew he could. 

Felspring, she would hear his choice for this life, for his life. This is what he wants to be, he will be because he will not allow himself any other option.

“The armored son would become a knight for humanity, and he would raise them from dust.”

When he looks over to Gryphon he is surprised to see that he moved closer to him. His expression is unreadable as his eyes have gone to a brighter blue. It leaves Felwinter stunned and frozen as he stares.

“I-I…that was a lot Felwinter.” Gryphon makes out a laugh that falls short on being anywhere near humorous. He looks up and gives a weak smile. “I mean no offense we all got it bad out here but you? Man I can’t even imagine.” The colorful Exo turned orange by firelight stands and begins to press his hand to his forehead.

“The Warmind as your father? You, being pulled between it and The Traveler!” He throws his hands up as he turns back to Felwinter. “Man, that makes you what? Part Warmind and Risen, I mean- Phoof- ” he mimics an explosion as he grips his head. He was going to say more based on the way his mouth lights up but pauses when he turns back to Felwinter..

Felwinter takes a moment and unfurls himself until he is sitting in a way that allows his hands to fold together. “I am sorry, it was not my intention to bring any harm upon you.”

“What! No. Dude, that was not your fault. Plus you helped get those things off me.” His eyes widen as he begins to ramble about how nothing was Felwinter's fault and how he was sorry. It was all so much, and yet, it gave it a soft feeling. One that didn’t burn or scorn his insides, not one that popped. It was the sensitive tingle you get when brushing a cold hand with a warm one.

“Thank you.”

Gryphon paused his ramble and gave an equally soft look to Felwinter. “Uhh yeah, anytime, friend.” He said bashful as he rubbed the back of his neck, eyes squinted in an open smile. “I mean if we are being honest you are one hell of an Exo to look at.”

“Gryphon-11!” The peatled ghost chastised him.

“What? No, wait pause, I didn’t mean like that. I mean Felwinter, friend, you don’t have any of the typical mods that Exos can have. Don’t mean to say that you're ugly, you're not but like your-” 

“Not helping!”

He had thrown his hands to shield himself as his ghost berates him for being rude.

“He is not wrong,” Felspring says, “Your face is sleek, you don’t have any protruding facial mods that Gryphon has. The movement your face makes is minimal, small shifts of perfectly fitting plates. They rise and fall before returning to their place.”

“I see.”

Does he even wish to emulate human emotion? Felwinter wants to be direct and clear but he has no desire to make a show of it, at least not in the way humans do. Facial expression is important for communication and vulnerability but it isn’t something that he is particularly interested in doing. It reveals too much and to those who practice can hide too much.

Perhaps it is clarity that drives Felwinter from wishing for more of himself. It is all direct and unbiased, from his voice to his face.

Gryphon is one that uses emotions and his friendliness to gain a reaction, whether intentional or not. He uses his appearance and his action to prove the tone of his choice. 

This is all so interesting and new.

They talk more, Felwinter slowly but surely opening himself to garner Gryphon’s opinions.The talk switches to more meaningless and meaningful things after that until the Exo needs to sleep. Felwinter promised to keep watch for him rather than sleep himself, while the Exo sleeps. He would sleep himself but would rather guarantee that the Frames do not make a return.

“Is that what you want to do?” Felspring's calm voice rings loud and clear. It pulls him from thought.

Felwinter only responds with a humming sound that trembles from his throat. He is still so unsure of how to move forward. He still doesn’t know anything. It aches him terribly of his own weakness, especially now with the knowledge that his connection with Rasputin can harm others.

Felwinter pokes at the fire again to keep it burning, it is a comfort in the cold of the night. Felspring is not one who likes to be ignored and floats straight in front of his face until she is all he could see. Felwinter simply blinks at her and she huffs. 

“Do you want to ‘raise humanity from dust- bring back the peace it once had’?” She quotes him in a firm voice.

“Yes. I want to try.”

She then presses herself onto his forehead. “Then we will do that.” The touch was a welcomed feeling. “You are a good person, Felwinter.” Felspring says after a moment.

“I am not a person.”

Felspring pulls back and her blue eye becomes smaller. “You are, and so much more but never anything less. Trust me.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that. Instead he chooses to switch the subject.

“Why do you think Rasputin sent the frames?”

She thought for a moment before coming to his side. “I have two theories; he wanted to help with the tank or he was getting restless with us avoiding him.”

Felwinter leaned back as the scorching feeling returned in the pit of his abdomen. “He is watching us.” He states as he closed his hand tightly in on itself.

“Yes.”

“I do not think I am ready to see him.”

“We have to be.”

She always sounded so confident and so sure of each choice she makes. It eases Felwinter as much as it aches, she has yet to be wrong so he will place trust with her. Trust between them is still thin but it has grown quickly much to Felwinter's attempts otherwise. The little drone has become a comfort rather than a tie to all he has yet to know.

Tomorrow's light will soon shine bright and high. When it comes, Felwinter will have no choice but to stand and greet it with a gun in one hand but light in the other. 

[poo0b]

The Warmind's Son

Chapter 4: Nuanced In the Light

Summary:

Felwinter attempts to make sense of his place in a man-made world as a machine-made machine. Avoiding people was easy when civilization was rebuilding in the wilds, but no one can avoid the risen for long. While annoying this risen has proven to be a useful distraction.

It had been merely two months since Felwinter met Rasputin in the hidden archive. He had yet to go back for a multitude of reasons. Felspring's heart for one, as she put it, “I can not take another scare like that or I may die!” The interaction had left her full of anxiety and she asked him to be more careful. After the initial shock of the interaction Felspring has come to the conclusion that this is why the Traveler had wanted Felwinter to be risen. He was part warmind, the only one of his kind. 

Did he need saving from Rasputin? How much did The Traveler know?

Another reason was because Felwinter did not feel ready to talk to the being who attempted to keep him. It irked him that his own life could be so easily possessed by his creator. That he was nothing more than an extension of Rasputin. The AI himself was a topic to be discussed. He was an interesting character, far too young for someone so old. It gave him hope that they could learn together and it gave him a sense of fear for it.

Their journey had led them to be quite enamored by the world. There was so much to know, it was Exciting, Felspring has put it. The way the wind felt upon his metal face plates felt ticklish, familiar, as he gazed at the stars. They were so far and large and perhaps when the world is quieter, calmer, he might too join the fury of gas and light into the night sky. He thinks that they are beautiful. How funny, he thought, that calling something beautiful is something that is intangible.

He will have hope that he will live long enough to achieve that childish goal. Till then may it hang up with the stars, as something intangible. Metal fingers smooth over the grass he sits on as if to ground himself back to Sol. Their blades are dusted with water from a light spring shower. They are weak against the weight of his hands as they bend to allow the glide of metal on the plant's thin body.

He lives for himself, for Felspring and now for Rasputin. Felwinter could add The Traveler to the growing list but he thinks better of it. The carnage he has witnessed and been on the receiving end of risen had left a boiling sensation in his chest. Their silent and sleeping god rests and  without acknowledgment to the power it blindly gives. He does not know how to properly assess it. So he leaves it to think for another time.

Tiredly he stands at the urging of Felspring. They cannot rest today, it is not safe. As it had been for the last month. It aches Felwinter but he listens nonetheless. Trust had become an easier task when Felspring tended to be right. 

They had passed many groups of Risen and Lightless alike. They would keep quiet and pass them to avoid an unwanted death or look of terror. It was strange to be looked at like a monster when you have done nothing to deserve such treatment. But they were smart to act so, they did not know him, only what he is capable of.

To survive now is to scrape by a thread and fight with every tooth and nail you could afford to lose or take. Felspring was right to call this the Dark Age, it was a very dark time to be alive. Those experiences had also added to the confusion when a risen by the name of Gryphon-11 had very cheerfully asked to join him on his journey.

“I am headed to the Red Valley, got some important things I want to find over there.”

This Exo was loud and overly friendly. He kept talking and filling the air with meaningless talk. Felwinter and Felspring agreed to not allow this agreement to last. He never saw Felspring so annoyed, if he were a different man he could have laughed. The thought makes him pause. With what he now knows of himself he doesn’t know if he could consider himself even a part of human kind, of humanity.

He looks at Gryphon, a very expressive Exo with green and yellow plated metal. His voice would change in tone and emotions so easily. He could express himself in a way that mimicked humans. No, he was human, he is still human despite the metal and lack of flesh. No matter how many times he resetted or the fact that his very consciousness was in some database he would stay human: he was born and not made.

Felwinter was bare of most human esthetic, his face could not be expressive enough, his voice could not show an ounce of emotion in an all too deep tone. He was as unfriendly as one could look, sleek black metal with amber eyes and red lights. He was never human, he was made. He didn’t even get the privilege of being made by a human to fit in with humans. Felwinter’s thoughts turned to something bitter on his tongue. 

Felwinter thinks he feels envious, jealous of the humanity Gryphon was born with. Perhaps that is why he is so uncomfortable with speaking to him. It might explain his unwillingness to add to the conversation. It is an unfair feeling to have to a person who has done nothing to him, he has been kind so far. 

That was his thoughts until he saw the Exo spread his arms wide alarming Felwinter. “What a beautiful day to be traveling!” Gryphon takes a faux breath of air. “Aren’t we lucky huh, friend.”

Or perhaps the bitterness was because of Gryphon being an idiotic loud fool.

Felwinter sees the man adjust his bag undeterred by the lack of response. It was very uncomfortable to be near such an energetic, as Felspring calls it “ extrovert” . But to the man's credit he never touched Felwinter after that initial handshake. Always keeping enough space away from him and is quite observant. Though it was painfully obvious that he wished to come closer. 

“Where are you both headed to anyways?” He had asked casually as they followed a road straight. His voice was soft and cheerful, a complete opposite to Felwinter's voice. After a moment too drawn out Felwinter replied. “Not sure.”

This seemed to have caused Gryphon to be stunned for a moment. Some of his face plates lifted in a mock of eyebrows being raised slightly and his mouth just a click more open. “Huh.” He said offhandedly as a hand went under his chin. “Just walking?”

Before Felwinter could think of a proper answer a flower petaled Ghost jumps in. “You could come with us.” She offered. She was painted in green and yellow ,bright and may have been hand painted. It made her look far more dainty than Felspring. Perhaps it was the colors or the shape of her shell.

“No.” Said Felspring. It was a quick and nearly dismissive response if it weren’t for her adding more to the conversation. Manners were important after all. “We are going somewhere. We just don’t know the name.”

The colorful pair seemed to be happy with this new information. With a nod Gryphon spoke, ”An adventure.” His voice became almost light as he continued with a wistful and passionate voice. “This whole world is an adventure! And we get a thousand chances to live it.” His voice became soft at the end. Felwinter watched as his gloved fingers caresses his ghost’s shell who seemed to return the affection gracefully.  

Felwinter watches as the Exo’s eyes turn to look at him. His blue eyes are bright with burning passion. So much could be said with the simple action of showing emotion. Felwinter could tell that Gryphon believed in the words he said, it was written on him as clear and as bright as their paint. 

It burned him in his core, to be shown such vulnerability was an uncomfortable experience. But still he was curious and so he will show a scrap of openness back. Sating his curiosity, he reasoned.

 “How so?”

The moment the two words left his mouth he wished to take them back. His voice was too flat, it felt desolate despite the fact it was void of any emotions. Left to interpretation so helplessly, he can not share any ounce of being vulnerable in the way that mattered. Even with something as small as curiosity.

But Gryphon made a dramatic show of walking backwards to face Felwinter. His face practically beamed with unrestrained excitement as his hands made a big show of moving around as he began a rant. The way his eyes became shadowed by metal and the lights at his cheeks grew brighter suggested he was smiling. It put Felwinter to ease for a moment.

Felspring had nudged him in complaint as now it was his fault for not letting the man, “ Shut up .” If his eyes brightened it was known to no one but their little group. For now he was content enough to listen to someone else's views on their common predicament.

Felwinter used this spill of information as a way to pick the Exo apart piece by piece. The blue eyed man was optimistic by fault, he would have hope each and every time if given the choice. Which in his words, “We always have a choice no matter where you are. I mean how can you not when the world looks like this?”

Gryphon indeed does not think that they were sent here for adventures and fun exploration of Sol. Rather he seemed well spoken in the fact that he didn’t know. “Who cares why we were sent here. What matters is how and what we are to do with what we got.” His ghost filled in the rest, a very close pair indeed.

“We, Ghost, were made in The Travelers' last breath before they were sent to a deep sleep due to pushing back the being responsible for The Collapse. In turn we raise the dead, but we aren’t told why or who. Life is full of many choices, good and bad. In the end we choose to be good people and live .” She would then laugh at something that went unsaid, perhaps something that was only meant for her and Gryphon. “What else matters then the choices we make.”

Felwinter didn’t know what to say to that. Another ache in his chest made his silence feel worse.

The conversation fell when they reached a string of abandoned factories. Fallen banners and bones were scattered about the further they walked. There was evidence of what might have been a battle for territory. 

Both risen had sent away their ghosts as they began to search and clear the area. Felwinter felt uneasy as there were far too many shipment crates in the addition of empty buildings they could not see in. They ended up agreeing to split up for a short amount of time.

Felwinter went in the direction of the shipment crates thinking they would be a good place to hide out when nightfall hits. Most of the rusted crates were locked or poorly damaged but he managed to find one that was study enough to use as shelter. 

Felwinter was crouched inside searching for anything valuable in any of these crates but found very little. He picked up a few bullet shells on the ground. Spinning the shell between his fingers he inspected it closely. They were of Fallen origin and their design was advanced, alien.

Cautiously, Felspring appears to scan the item. “It’s made out of metal from Sol.” Felwinter moved his body to provide her cover. “We could melt it down, good materials are rare. If only we had the proper tools.” She continued in a mumble.

“Should we add that to the list?” 

She spun to face him, looking up, “What list?”

“For what we are looking for. Somewhere safe, somewhere quiet, somewhere with a forge.”

She laughs a soft and quiet laugh, she goes along with him. “Yes and somewhere with a library filled with books. I have missed you reading for me.” Felsprings voice is full of contagious happiness. It makes Felwinter feel silly as the feeling bubbles and pops gently underneath the armor on his chest.

A piercing sound echoes through the rusted facility. Immediately Felwinter stands and Felspring disappears in a small burst of light. Quietly he stalks out of the crate and hears a yell of his name followed by gunfire. Without hesitation he runs to the sound, Gryphon's voice has stopped shouting his name and only gunfire can be heard.

“Damn It.” Felwinter curses as he approaches a factory courtyard. He followed the sound of gunfire only for it to stop. It was near where they first decided to split up, he must have rounded back looking for him. Watch out, there are multiple Fallen signatures ahead. Felspring warns.

“Where is Gryphon?”

He’s held up in the building to the right. You might have to go through that broken window though, the door might fall off its hinges if you tried to open it. She tries to humor him but it falls flat, her voice is crystal clear in his head. Felwinter had yet to get used to it.

The gunfire is still loud as he swings his leg over broken glass and enters the building. Felwinter makes his steps louder as he approaches Gryphon carefully. The man has his body flushed against the wall and is reloading his gun, he seemed to be catching his breath. There is a hole in the wall that has most likely been made by some sort of explosion. Gryphon’s eye light brightens when he sees Felwinter, he makes a grand gesture of clutching his chest. 

“Thank. The. Traveler.” The Exo whispers under his breath before changing his tone to be more serious. “Don’t move forward, you'd get into their line of sight.”

Felwinter nods and follows the wall that leads to the opposite side of Gryphon. “What happened?” He asks after leaning against the wall. 

“You know the bodies we found earlier?” 

Felwinter nods as he returns to cover.

“Well we are thinking they came back to collect whatever was left of that fight. They don’t carry the same colors.” Gryphon’s voice is quiet yet still seems to hold so much emotion. He sounds nonchalant but firm. The other Exo brushes his hand against his neck in an almost instinctual gesture. “There was more but they brought a Servitor with them and I can’t exactly take them out on my own.”

“What a Servitor?”

“Oh it’s a really big drone. Looks like an eyeball, it creates some sort of shield to any nearby Fallen or drones. Real pain in the ass.” Gryphon then makes a soft sound as he gets an idea. Felwinter watches as the Exo rummages through a pocket of his bag before sliding a small mirror to him. 

“Okay so use that to take a longer peak at them while I explain.” Turning the brass mirror in his hand he does so. It's a small but heavy thing, it's old and looked to once have an intricate frame. It still allows him to put it out at an angle to see outside. There is more Fallen than he thought, the Servator is a black and purple machine that floats quietly. He can hear the chittering of the Fallen, the hum of the drones but that machine makes no idle noise when it moves. 

It looks like The Traveler.

Felwinter said nothing back to Felspring's remark. To him it did not look like The Traveler, the shapes were far too cut. But it did raise a question, did the Fallen follow The Traveler? Gryphon’s voice brings him back as he begins to explain.

“Alright so, good thing is they don’t know we are here. Bad news: I killed 5 before the Servator came in. There are about twenty Fallen scattered across this courtyard with six shanks, two of those being snipers.” He pauses,”Wait a second.” Then his ghost appears and hands him a scrap of paper and a pen.

“Okay so here is the layout,” He quickly draws a very basic map of the courtyard. Birds eye view, Felspring muses. “So like all and all there are three to the far left on top of that cargo. Now Servator is in the middle and got at least ten Fallen and three shanks with two of those Fallen on a platform with a sniper. Rest is to the far left behind rubble and on top of a little shack thingy.” His voice is clear but there is an uncertainty in it.

Throughout his explanation he had been pointing to the map and Felwinter had been moving the mirror to follow and see if it was true. The interaction is a pleasant surprise from his layback companion.

“Look, at the moment they are blocking the way forward and I don’t know about you, but dying isn’t on my list of things.” His faceplates are looking at him with worry in spite of his joking tone. “I hate the way it still-” 

“Echoes. Like it was a dream that your body remembers.”

“Yeah. Exactly like that.” His face softens in a way that makes Felwinter flinch. His eyes see him, sees through him. Felwinter finds out quickly how he hates being looked at like that.

“We will get out of here.”

“So confident, love it. But how are we going to do that?” Gryphon blinks his optics at him.

Felwinter begins to share a plan, it is a risk and it is far from good. He knows that but it is their best bet. Reinforcements could be on their way, they needed something quick and brutal. 

Gryphon leans back against the wall completely. “No offense, but I don’t think that's a good plan.”

“It's not.” Flewinter pauses before sliding the mirror back. “It’s a risk but I have trust in the Light and I need you to trust me.”

“Well you brought up the Light. Feel like that's an automatic ‘trust me or die’ sentence.” He says lightly before putting the mirror back into its pocket. It releases a tension that Felwinter didn’t know he held. “Good. Now I am going to shoot down that platform, the crane line seems weak enough to only take a few shots. It will crush three of the Fallen and I'll pick off the rest near it. Can you take out the ones to the left of us?”

“You betcha I can. Got grenades and just so you know I’m a pretty good shot.” He gives him a cheeky smile that has small cheek plates raising up and covering the bottom of his eyes. It is painfully human despite the Exo face being too sharp, too mechanical.

“That will scatter them to regroup. That's when we both focus on the Servitor, are there any weak points on that thing?”

“Yeah there is, its center or the glowy middle of it.” He says while reading his hand cannon, ”Just aim for that and it will go down in a blast. Fair warning, it's loud.”

With a deep exhale of air, he can taste the ozone and static coming off the man next him. Breathing to him is an unnecessary and painfully human act in spite of new knowledge. Still he breathed in again and took his gun and aimed high. “Ready?” Felwinter asked as he lined the shot up.

“As I’ll ever be friend.” Gryphon says with a small smile in his voice. Felwinter thought it best to stow away any feeling of the change of tone from Gryphon saying ‘friend’ this time compared to the last. Another time he can decipher, another time, he repeats to himself as he fires at the rusted cable and watches it snap. 

It crushes the three Fallen and they begin to scatter, running to the safety of their Servator’s gaze. The closest group, the one on the left, attempts a confrontation only to be killed by a grenade. An Arcbolt grenade, Felwinter supplies as they watch the lighting bounce from one target to another. It killed five Fallen and two drones.

Felwinter takes out the rest who were on the platform once their heads were visible from the dust. That leaves eight Fallen, three shanks and the Servator, Felwinter thought as they both press forward using the ruble scattered about as shields. Gryphon was right, the Servitor was loud, especially when it fell.

He was about to use his light to take out the remaining Fallen only to see Gryphon let out a strong charge and like the grenade, it bounced about from body to body and finished the rest. It smelled of ozone. So arc users have a smell, interesting.

“I don’t think I’ve ever done that.” Gryphon said surprised as he looked at his hands. They still held sparks and static. He looks to Felwinter and again smiles a full smile that radiates his excitement. The green Exo then whoops loudly and It makes Felwinter shake his head as he gets up and dusts the fight off his armor.

“Now that's done.” Gryphon puts a hand on Felwinter’s shoulder. “That plan sucked.”

Felwinter huffed, “It wasn’t a plan and more of a-” he paused, flicking his hand. “An outline.”

“Still terrible.” His eyes squinted at Felwinter. He would look annoyed if it weren't for that smile still on his face.

“Debatable.”

That got a laugh out of Gryphon. 

I don't mean to alarm you, but we got something incoming and it's BIG. Felsprings voice is worried. When he looked over to the other Exo he seemed to know that something was happening too. His Ghost must have warned him as well.

“Let's go.” 

Before they can get out to the entrance they hear it. A loud whirring sound with even louder metal footsteps. Quickly they hid and there they saw the machine. It's far larger than the Servitor, it had a large gun on its back. It almost looked like a beetle.

“A walker, Fallen tank.” Gryphon whispered to him.

They didn't have the firepower to take that down. They barely had any ammunition to begin with. Getting past it is the only option and he relays that to Gryphon, they will get out of here.

Before they could begin to sneak around, something in the sky began to move. It is bright and orange, like a streamer, like a very up close star. Felwinter didn't have time to admire it as it got bigger, it was getting closer. 

“Run.” Someone says, he doesn't know who but it doesn’t matter.

He feels it hit the ground as it shakes up dust and debris. The ground shook harshly and caused Gryphon to fall and Felwinter caught him and pulled him to his feet. When he turns around a huge polyhedron crushed the tank. Its legs lay flat and broken as fire bursted out from the front of it. 

What was that? It looks familiar, he had seen it before. The black metal, the long prongs that stick out, it's something he knows. He knows that he knows something, from before…

Did Rasputin do this? Felwinter asks Felspring.

“Wow, that was something.” Gryphon’s voice cuts in before she could respond. The Exo is walking to the crushed machine. Felwinter follows out of curiosity and a hint if this really was Rasputin. The flower petaled Ghost makes a reappearance and she begins to scan the mess. “It's a warstat. How did a warstat get fired? The Warmind is out of commission or it should be.” Her voice is riddled with confusion as she stops her scan to look at her risen.

Before anyone can say anything more a piece of the warstat was thrown off. Felwinter had to duck inorder to not get hit by it. There was now an opening and a frame came out of it. The frame matched the others from the archive, its blaring singular eye and its symbol on its chest. All the same. This is bad.

It crawls out scraping against the metal and stupidly Felwinter is standing frozen. More hands start to grab at the rim of the opening to do the same. The moment the first frame pulls itself out it attacks Gryphon. 

Fuck.

[poo0b]

A Warmind's Son

Chapter 3: The Calling

Music echoed in the cold of the cave. It sings like a siren’s song, calling for someone to come closer. The sound drags Felwinter out of sleep as he awakes confused. Still drowsy and trying to return back to reality the Exo pulls himself to his feet. 

When he looks around there is nothing of importance in the cave he had slept in. There were the rocks, stone walls and the horrible excuse of a fire that had burned itself out. Then there was that music that was now clearer. Its grasp whispered against his skull as it tempts him to go to it. 

It is achingly familiar as if he knew the rhythm but couldn’t grasp at the lyrics that waited to be sung. It frustrated him and it reminded him of his shortcoming of simply not knowing.

Felspring appears the moment he moves to grab his gun. He had quickly turned to face her as if her sudden appearance was unexpected. She spun around him as if to check his condition. Before she could speak about his obvious wariness he spoke. “Do you hear that?”

His voice was quiet as a whisper as if he would scare off the music like a scared animal. The grip on his gun tightens as Felspring stills in the air. She is quiet as she tries to listen. 

“I don’t hear anything. What is wrong, Felwinter?” Her voice is quiet to match his earlier tone. Felwinter is baffled that she can not hear the sounds coming from the cave. It calls to him so loudly that he can not even begin to ignore it. And yet she hears nothing? He is stuck deciding if he should go to it or force himself to leave. In the end Felwinter knows that if he does not go to the source of the sound it will follow him like an unforgiving itch. 

Why did he know that?

“Felwinter?” Felspring calls out to him worriedly.

The Exo must have been too lost in thought to notice how he must have been frozen still. The silver floating frame still waits patiently for his response.  He hesitates to give one. His amber eyes stare into the dark of the cave as the music doesn't seem to stop.

“There is something at the end of this cave.” His eyes blaze as he waits for her reaction, he still avoids her gaze.

“I don’t sense any hostels in the immediate area.” She states simply and confidently as an attempt to reassure him. It fails.

“I mean to say there is something calling to me further into the cave.” He attempts to clarify.

“What do you mean something is calling to you?” She blocks his sight of the cave. Her voice is transparent with worry. Felwinter couldn’t help but reach for her and she had no hesitation in coming to him. He still can not bring himself to fully trust her. He would flinch whenever she appeared too quickly and would doubt her despite always doing what she said. 

“There is a  sound that I can hear coming from the cave.” He stops and thinks of a better way to justify going into a possible den of the unknown sound. “It is something I recognize but I can’t seem to remember. It may lead to answers as to why I find so many things familiar.”

She is hovered in the palm of his hand when she delivers her answer with the utmost certainty. “Well we have nothing better to do.” 

Felwinter stood there mouth agape as she began to head to the darkest part of the cave. She had trusted him so easily. So quickly as if ‘nothing better to do’ was enough to justify the unworthy and foolishly blind faith placed on him. The blind faith he asked for and could never begin to give in return. 

“Felwinter?” She had turned to see him a few feet behind her, unmoved.

“Yes,” He had begun a fast pace to catch up to her. “I'll lead the way.”

It didn’t take long for the pair to find themselves before a grand metal door. The music felt as though it was tapping against the door to be let out. When Felwinter placed a hand to the door he could almost feel it vibrate. It was strange to feel the cool metal against his heated metal plated hands.

Felspring had helpfully started to attempt to get inside by hacking into the door panel. It was barely a minute of her doing that before the door opened. The thrum of the music did not get louder but clearer. Before Felwinter could take a step forward Felspring stopped him. 

“I was not the one who opened the door.” She seemed scared as her voice had a slight shake. “Be careful Felwinter, I don’t think we are alone.”

The Exo nodded as he fixed his posture and held his gun ready. White glossy walls shone brightly as the hum of machinery was nearly loud enough to pierce through the song. They had found themselves in a strange underground facility. 

The music felt as though it was echoing off the walls of his skull. It was insistent as it forced him to play a game of hot and cold. Felspring looked worried but stayed quiet. They have been walking through empty halls for seemingly forever. 

It was a barren facility that held many broken machines and carts full of equipment seemingly left in a hurry. They must have evacuated as there were no dead bodies. It still smells sickeningly sterile and familiar.

The music leads them to a vault with that symbol from his dream. The red screen blares behind his eyes causing his head to ache. He reaches a hand to his head in a poor attempt to ease it. This time the door opens now with no attempt on their part. It reveals a large room that is empty save for one strange diamond shaped black panel. The music no longer is in Felwinter's head but rather fills the room.

“I can hear the music now.” She is now whispering in the same way Felwinter had.

“What?” He turns to her incredulously.

Felwinter looks around the room. He is trying to piece it together of what it could be. What was in here? And why is it so empty? He reached for the black panel that might have been made of glass, perhaps something stronger. When he placed a hand on it, the music stopped. And for a second, he saw that same sigil as he did in his dream. The room came to life as it lit up in a powerful red light. In front of him, a series of codes and pictures are shown to him. It feels like a foreign language he once knew. So close on his tongue, but he could not speak it. But he could still read it. 

Felspring looked up at all the moving code and began to decipher it. “Some of this is very old, but there is something new,” she said with fear, “This is bad.” 

Felwinter couldn't help but agree. What they stumbled upon was nothing short of extraordinary. When passing through the codes, he saw many things. Many pieces of information from before the collapse. This was all Golden Age information. This was an archive, but who’s? He's been here before. Once, he thinks. He does not know what to think anymore. Who was he to keep feeling this sense of familiarity in white rooms.

“Are you able to download this information?” He asks, turning away from the glaring red. 

“Yes, I-I don’t understand this piece.” She moves to the console and brings up a page of code.

“This is from when you awoke.” She then pulls up documents one by one sliding through them over and over. “All these relate to an intelligence collecting machine. This bunker is an information archive belonging to that machine. It-”

“The sigil on the door, who's it?” He interrupts.

She is taken aback but does as asked. “All that comes up is an AI made by Clovis Bray, the father of Exoscience. It's some sort of sentient guardian of humanity-” 

Something appears at the top of the document. Felspring freezes which puts Felwinter on edge. She doesn’t move and she doesn’t speak.

It is a blank and open document with a blinking indicator that waits for letters to be typed. It does not wait long as text begins to appear. They both don’t speak as it continues and then stops. It blinks, it waits and it watches. The text states:

Welcome back Siddhartha.

“That name is the intelligence machine's name.” Felspring is quiet enough to almost be drowned out by the constant noise of machinery, almost. “We should leave.”

Felwinter was about to open his mouth to argue but paused when he looked over to her.

He never knew something so small could seem even smaller when scared. To risk your own life is a cause of self sacrifice. But if he were to continue, if he were to fight her on this he would risk her safety. So with a heavy hand he lifted it off the glass panel and allowed the red light to fade. Empty and lacking in the knowledge it once showed there they stood in the white room together.

Felwinter had expected the music to return to call him back to the machine but only found the soft hum of machinery as he looked at the emptiness of the room. Then he looked at Felspring and turned to leave it all behind.

“I thought you didn’t trust me?” Her voice had lost the tremor but was still quiet.

“I don't.” He states plainly.

“Then why did you turn it off? This machine has enough data that would compare to a hundred libraries and yet you turned it off. Why?” She intercepted his path causing him to stop, her second why was almost like a challenge for him to tell her she was wrong.

Amber eyes returned the challenge to her blue one as he walked around her. “Because I wish to. To trust you.”

She doesn’t respond after that. But it wasn’t out of acceptance but rather because something caught her attention as the room relit red with a loud sound. Felwinter was quick to turn around as that open document is the only thing there. The text is new and haunting.

Return Siddhartha. Return to my code. 

“Who is Siddhartha?” Felwinter demanded as his hold of his gun became steady.

Do you not know who you are? 

He doesn’t respond immediately as he tries to take in the information. Did this person know him before his death? Or does he simply remind him of someone, Felwinter does not know. They seem to be confident that he is Siddhartha.

“My name is Felwinter, I don’t know who Siddhartha is.”

There was a heavy pause as for a moment words were typed but quickly erased. This time it is Felspring who speaks to the room.

“We heard your music and were curious. We are sorry to disturb you.” She then went on to whisper to him in a voice that wasn’t present. Do not trust them. She warned him. It was strange to feel her voice rather than hear it.

Did you like it, the music?

They were both taken aback from the innocent question. “Yes.” Felwinter responded in an almost slow and cautious manner. 

Siddhartha was tasked to show me human culture. I believe it is classical music that I had asked for more of. I hold 152 different songs in my data logs.

“Was it important to you? Siddhartha?” Asked Felspring.

Yes, he was the first thing I made that was entirely mine. Not for war, not for Bray and not for humanity. Simply for me.

“And who are you?” Felwinter asked.

I am Rasputin. The AI who was tasked to protect humanity. I had failed. And you are Siddhartha, were offlined. I will not fail at protecting you again.

There was a loud noise from outside the room. It sounded like heavy footsteps. Felwinter didn’t think when he rushed to the door just as about to be swung open. He pressed his hands and dug into the metal of the door and held it closed. 

“Why are you doing this?” Felspring yelled.

The door shudders and shakes as it attempts to open. It makes a horrible screeching sound as it manages to open a few inches. Felwinter’s grip on the door falters as metal hands begin to reach between the crack and grab at him. They grab at his face and shoulders in an attempt to push him away from  the door.

The Exo flinches at their attempts to scratch his face. Though all this Felspring is attempting to communicate with Rasputin but to no avail. There is no new text, there is no response. It is frustrating that he allowed this situation to even occur. He brought them here and he stayed to ask questions. 

A hand grabs him but the hole of his cheek and pulls him to the door. Felwinter sees at least seven one eyed machines. Not Exos. There is Rasputin's sigil on their chest and for some reason that infuriates him more. So he turns his head and bites its hand. With a flick of his head the hand is pulled off its wrist and it spills a black ink across his face and the door.

This causes the hands to become more aggressive as they start attempting to shove their entire arm through the gap to pull themselves in. Felwinter curses out loud when his footing slips causing another half inch of space to open. There is not much he can do but keep steady, his gun is on the floor and Felspring is too open to even consider risking to grab it.

“Is this what you want Rasputin? To lose Siddhartha again?” Felspring’s anger was loud and desperate as it filled her voice. 

A hand grabs Felwinter’s chestplate and pulls him close. He feels the sharp pain as fingers dig underneath and tear at his wires. Felwinter calls up the light and pulls it to his mouth. With his jaw clicking open as far as it could go he spits out a burst solar. This causes enough of the machines to falter.

Using the new opening he kicks his foot into the door and reaches a hand to grab one of the machines. He manages to pull it forward enough where it blocks the majority. It gives him the moment he needs to to turn his head back at the AI.

“How can you claim to love Siddhartha when you are trying to kill me? Why because you can’t keep it, why do you always return to violence!” The words spill out without thought. It makes Felwinter falter and confused as he did not know why he worded it like  that. What did he mean? Why doesn’t he know?

He nearly falls when the machines stop moving and freeze. They are frozen in place as the doors slowly and carefully. He lets go of the one he held and hears it bang against the metal floor. The door clicks shut and only then does he turn there is a small simple question that gives so many infuriating answers.

Do I love Siddhartha?

It is strange to have to tell someone they love who you once were. Who maybe deep down you still are and will always be. “I think you don’t know what love is.” He says a moment after picking up his gun.

What is love?

Felwinter opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. He doesn’t feel qualified enough to answer this. He hasn't been risen for that long and even then he doesn’t know the answer to that. 

“It is when you care for someone deeply.” Felspring's voice is calming as she answers Rasputin's question. “There are different types. Each can make you act irrationally if it means keeping that person safe and content.” 

A few things come to mind as to why Rasputin acted the way he did. He is an AI, he is the same as Felwinter in the way they know nothing in a world that has already started. They are too smart, intelligent, to be able to make small mistakes.

Risen and AI do not have the privilege of being born. They are weapons, tools, and adults that have been readymade. Therefore every mistake is catastrophic and every learning experience is dire. 

“I can teach you.” Felwinter says while reaching to touch the black panel. “I can do what Siddhartha did, teach you about humanity.”

Why? After I attacked you? I made you bleed. 

Felspring turns to him quickly to see that he is in fact bleeding from his collar. That can wait and he puts his hand up to quiet her. “Because we are both new to being alive.”

I have been online since the Golden Age and past. I do not understand.

“Yes, you have been online but have you been living? I hear it is the right of all sentient beings to be able to live freely.”

What is the difference? To live and be alive.

That makes Felwinter pause. “I do not know.” He looks up intensely at the document. “What I do know is that I will find out. And I will share it with you.”

Felspring seems to understand what has occurred and maybe she sees something they cannot. But she says nothing, she will support Felwinter however she can. If that means doing something as important as learning to live in such a harsh time. Who is she to do anything but encourage?

A promise was made by the end of the day. Felwinter had agreed to return to Rasputin, in turn Rasputin would share his knowledge. They will learn together.

[poo0b]

A Warmind's Son

Chapter 2: To know is to understand, and I know nothing…

Summary:

Felspring and a newly risen Felwinter leave the library to start they journey.

The day's light filled the cold white room with orange hues. It made the Exo’s eyes blink on as he awoke. Felwinter is standing in a laboratory, he could have sworn he slept at a library. His fingers grazed a countertop as he moved about the room. This room felt eerily familiar, it was as if he had been here before. 

While heading to a window a woman's voice startled him. Turning his head fast he sees her sitting on a stool. She was humming a tune as she sat in front of a red computer screen. Her back faced Felwinter as she started to swing a finger in the air as if drawing the notes. His eyes shifted as he advanced towards her. Her appearance told Felwinter she was a scientist based on her lab coat and neat appearance. 

Looming over her he could see a symbol on the screen. He had seen it before surely. Perhaps he should get the woman's attention to ask. Right before he makes contact her humming stops and Felwinter’s eyes open a second time.

The cracked ceiling of the library and Felsprings blinking blue eye welcomes him. “Oh good you're awake!” She seemed nervous as her voice held a faint tremor. “I believe we have been here too long. We must keep moving.”

Felwinter gets up and nods. His head aches as he shakes off the strange dream. He must have gotten up too fast before he could truly wake up. Felspring stares at him. “Are you alright?” She asks.

“I had a strange dream. I don’t know what to make of it is all.” His attempt to reassure her falls flat.

“I hear it's common for Exos to experience strange dreams from time to time.” She still seemed worried as he took her words as fact. So it was simply an ‘Exo thing.’ The dream was easy to forget when coming to the realization that he is practically unarmed and still new to life. Felspring must have felt the same as her next words reiterated his thoughts.

“We are in the outskirts of a city. If we are lucky we can find you some weapons and armor.” She looked back at his appearance. “And perhaps some shoes.”

Felwinter looks down on himself and sees how tattered his civilian clothes truly are. There is so much to do and so little or so much time to do it. How strange, to be stuck in the middle of life and death. Felwinter knows that till a permanent death he would be an outlier to the normal. To what extent he would not know.

His thoughts changed focus when he saw the city in all its glory. It is overrun with overgrowth of plants and broken pieces. How nature reclaimed the man made architecture was a wonder. It was as beautiful as it was disheartening. To think that thousands have lived here now rests permanently in its stone carved history. 

The sun is still rising making the greens and grays look golden as rays peak through broken buildings. Felwinter’s metal steps echo softly through the streets as they walk past broken down cars and shops. In the corner of his eye he sees a gun and some sort of blue material on the ground peeking under a car. Going to it he picks up the blue material. “Glimmer. Its a valuable material, I'll keep hold of it.” Felspring explained.

Felwinter watched as it disappeared from his hands. While turning his hand he sees something behind him from the broken and low hanging side mirror. Whipping his head around he looks to where it went as the sound of it moving was gone. Felspring is watching that direction as she too sees the movement. 

Carefully Felwinter kept low as he moved in the direction of where the thing moved. He scooped up a rock as he kept to a wall. Felspring is behind him seemingly trying to urge him to stop. When he gets to the corner he turns it sharply with the rock raised to throw. He was met with loud fluttering of wings as a group of birds flew away scared. 

After that they kept moving quietly and constantly checked their surroundings. They stumbled upon an evacuation camp. It is riddled with skeletons of military and civilian bodies. All the people who couldn’t escape death.

Felwinter takes a moment to truly see what was in front him. It is one thing to hear about a tragedy and another to see its scars so fully. It makes him wonder how each set of bones was a living being. What lives did they lead? Who were they?

In the end it wasn’t something he could afford to mourn. His and now Felsprings survival is more pressing. Felspring had already begun scanning bodies to find usable equipment and gear. Felwinter moves to do the same. He is gentle in his touch, the bones are held with nothing but vegetation. 

He manages to find a pair of boots that fit from one of the soldiers. He whispers thanks after he grabs them, keeping it in hand. It might have been strange to thank the dead but it was all he could offer them. His hands reached for their sleeve as his fingers grazed the military patches. 

“Felwinter, come here I wish to see if some of these fit you.” Felspring calls to him from behind. 

He stands and goes to her without question. She moves around him as if inspecting his form, it makes him stand awkwardly under her ministrations. Suddenly an entire wardrobe is placed on his body in a transmission of light. His body weight feels heavier as he touches the worn armor. He didn’t even notice as the boots that were once in his hands were now on his feet. He was awed as he looked over himself and checked the fitting of the armor.

“This will not last but it is better than what you had.” She moves back to the body she took the armor from. It was an Exo with yellow plating. “Her gun will be of use to you. Take it.” 

Reaching down he does just that. Her hands let go of the gun easily and they fell back onto her body. Felwinter places the rifle down next to him as he fixes her hands in a way that makes her look as if she was sleeping. Once again he whispers his thanks to the air. Felspring looks at him curious.

“Why did you do that?” Her voice was soft as if she would wake the dead Exo. 

“One of the books had mentioned a golden rule of sorts.” He picks up the rifle and feels the weight of it in his hands. “Treat others as you’d want to be treated.” He quotes. “I would hope that I will be treated with respect even in death.”

“You took what you read to heart?” 

“I knew nothing of anything past yesterday, the books and you are all I can take to heart.”

Nothing is said after that. There was nothing to say, he thinks. Gun in hand and ammunition scavenged off the rest, they made their way to the end of the city and out. Felwinter couldn’t help but look back at the city. He wonders if he should come back to it one day.

They make their way up a mountain path. They pass streets filled with rusted vehicles and a broken bridge. Once they were at the top they could see the entire city and past. The sun was high in the sky and there was not a single cloud in the blue sky. Felspring points out a huge white ball in the sky in the far distance. “The Traveler.” She says.

The god hung in the sky like the pale moon overwatching the Earth. Felwinter could feel the life it gave him under the surface of his body. How it hummed a song to the quiet god in the sky and it hummed back. So close and so impossibly far. Powerful in its gift, the Light connects them all. From The Traveler to Ghost, to Ghost to Lightbearer, and to Lightbearer to The Traveller.

How did he know this?

“They sleep, we can only now give patience that they will awaken soon.”

“How long will that hope last, how many will fall-” Felwinter pauses, then corrects himself. “How many will join the already fallen as it rests.”

“You doubt The Traveler?” She asks incredulously.

“I cannot doubt what I do not know.” Felwinter faces her, eyes blazed. “To know is to understand, I know nothing and therefore I cannot understand.”

“Yesterday you were a scared thing that didn’t trust me. You learn fast from just books.”

“I didn't learn that from the books. It feels like something I have always known to be true.” They begin the trek away from The Traveler's sight. Felwinter had hoped the silence that cut through air that followed them wasn't made out of hurt. Felspring is a Ghost, child of The Traveler and he had undoubtedly questioned what she knew and what it stood for.

Felwinter felt as though he was being watched as they left the city behind. It must be the birds again.

A week goes by as Felwinter is taught how to use Light. Felspring told him of the many classes that lightbearers fit into. How yes, a Hunter may use a Nova Bomb but it may not be what they specialize in or are attuned to. He learns how Solar is the first class that calls to him. It is familiar and bright in its undoubted warmth.

Solar to him is bright and unwavering, but Void sings to him in a way that he knew how to sing back to. It felt right in a way that he could not fully describe, this was a light he could use to make a pathway forwards. It was something that was etched into the very core of his being, a Voidwalker, Felspring called him. Felspring had also laughed at him when he failed harshly at any attempt to use Arc. 

He had his first death and it was by his own hands. They had been cornered by a group of Fallen. They had nearly run him down with Pikes as he fled into the forest to avoid them. They chased him on foot and there was when he shot them down. 

He was brutal as he kept them at a distance to shoot, keeping to the trees  and jumping up to stay high on the branches he could reach. When he had dropped to the ground one had snuck behind and speared him onto their blade. Another shot him in the neck when the other pulled out its blade. 

That was when he had turned and grabbed it by the throat. It had then dropped its weapon to scratch at his exposed wires and grab at his skull and press its claws into it. With light in his hands he had snapped it neck as it went limp. The other was frozen when he turned to face it. 

When it turned to run Felwinter let out an unstable ball of Void out of his hand and the last Fallen exploded into purple light. Felwinter leans against one of the now many trees with bullet holes as pain thrums through all his limbs..

Felspring materializes as she tries to stitch him back together. He attempts to speak only for a crackling sound to come out. He tries again, again and again.

“I can’t fix you.” Felspring scans him. “That Fallen must have damaged not only your voice box but your cognition cog.”

Felspring was uneasy as she tried to explain. “Exos are made with proprietary tech. I can fix your body but I can not hack into your cog to fix the damage.”

“If you shoot yourself, I could work quicker.” 

Felwinter lifts the rifle’s barrel to his head and fires without hesitation. When he is revived he lets out a false breath. He can still feel the ache of the bullet passing through his skull. It was like a dull echo, though it lacked the pain of it.

“How are you feeling? Everything okay?” Felspring scans him again.

Felwinter starts to wiggle his legs out and open and close his hands. “I feel fine.”

“Good.” She says while taking a deep sigh of relief.

He turns to look at the bodies and the alien blood splattered across the forest. It would be best that he try and find something of use on them. He had never seen their kind before. They seem very insect-like as they have an exoskeleton.

What strange creatures.

They had more glimmer and ammo. Felwinter also found some armor from possible past victims of the Fallen. Felwinter gets up and looks to the sky. 

“It's getting dark, we should find shelter.” Says Felspring.

“Yes.”

They turn to walk back near the open path. The rustling winds start to shake the leaves and grass. Felsinter flicks his head back at a peculiar gleam of light from the direction of the bodies.He stares for a second before seeing a gun hitting the sun just right, it creates a bright glare. Perhaps the death had shook him up more than he would like to admit. 

Felwinter and Felspring find a good enough cave to stay idle in. There they talk and fix themselves up from the fight. They figure that if they continue forward them might find a safe place to claim as their own. Wondering doesn’t seem sustainable for them in the long run. When the sun fully sets, Felwinter goes to sleep for the second time.

[poo0b]

A Warmind's Son

Chapter 1: The First Day

Summary:

To know is to be stronger, especially in a world where it is to kill or be killed. Felwinter is newly risen, and he knows nothing. Rasputin calls to him, he is bound to answer, for the sake of himself and his Ghost. May he learn something from this and hope it is enough to bring humanity from ashes and dust.

A little silver drone had told him his name is Felwinter. He doesn’t remember having a name, he knows that it wasn’t that but what was it? Her voice is calming as she explains how something called The Traveler had told her to save him. To bring him to life again as a new person. 

“Why?” He had asked her. She said she didn’t know. He didn’t trust her, he didn’t even know who or what she was. He relays that to her. All she had said was “You will.”

What an impudent little drone.

It was strange to not have memories further than an hour ago. It leaves him questioning so little and so much with no answers in sight. There is a sudden crack as he looks at his metal feet. He had stepped on a book and broke its spine. He leans down to grab it as the drone comes to inspect it with him. It is a small book with a faded design on the cover, where were they?

Felwinters blazing eyes scan the area he awoke in. It was a large library that had books scattered everywhere. There was rubble here and there. He and the drone spend a time exploring the library as they hunt for knowledge. For something that could fill the blankness in his mind and memories. He finds some answers but he also finds many more questions. He starts to ask the drone these questions.

“When are these books from?”

“They are all from The Golden Age, which was years ago.”

“What Age are we in now?”

“Some of the other Ghosts or people call it The Dark Age.”

“What ended The Golden Age?”

The silver drone paused. Her metallic frame spun in two pieces as she thought of her next words. “Something called The Collapse happened and wiped out millions of people.” She blinked and made her way closer to him. “That is when The Traveler made us beings called Ghosts. We awaken those who have been killed and grant them powers of the light.”

Felwinter leans back against the bookcase he sat against on the floor. “What do we do now?” 

“I do not know, but I will support you. We are in this together now. You and me..”

Felwinter made a hum sound at her response. He reach out for his new companion and she moved to float above his hand. She was a small thing, she seemed to be waiting for him to say something. There was nothing to say. If they are both tied together by the light then he must get used to her. His eyes then wondered to the book in his hand other hand. His black metallic fingers caress the cover of the book. It is a fictional story. It was short and it left an impression on him. Felwinter begins to read it out loud for the drone:

A tired King had called upon his Knight to slay another monster. A dragon has made the King fear once again for the safety of their people. The Knight had asked the tired King of what the dragon had done to be killed over. The King had said “The Dragon has had domain over a village for too long. It kills any who come close and traps the people who live within its land. Kill it and save the people.”

The Knight loved his kingdom and its King. He will save these people so they will never be oppressed again. When the Knight makes it to the dragon he sees people laughing and smiling. The Dragon had roared at him to leave, to go back and tell the foolish King to stop his attempts on his and his people's lives.

The Knight was not scared, but he did not draw his weapon. “Your people?” He had asked the Dragon.

“I protect them.” It smeared at him blowing smoke at the metal man. 

“Like a King.” 

“I am no King.” The Dragon said quietly as the Knight did not move to attack. Instead the Knight dropped his weapon and stated, “I kill monsters. You are no monster. I will leave but only if your people move to the Kingdom.”

“Why would I do that?” The Dragon's anger rose again.

“Because there is a place for you there with your people.” The Knight held his hand to his chest and kneeled to the Dragon. “ The King is tired from keeping his people safe. In his fear he sent me to you. Lesson the burden of the old man and allow your people to have a country to call home.”

The Dragon huffed at him and then flew away. The Dragon's people followed along with the Knight back home.

The drone hovers by his neck as he asks another question to her, closing the book. “What of the Lightless?”

“What of them?”

“Do they suffer? Are they being harmed by ‘monsters’?” He references the story.

She seems to hesitate for a moment. “There are talk about many Warlords who take land and oppress the Lightless. They could be seen as monsters. There are also creatures that have appeared after The Collapse that harm them, Fallen they are called.”

Felwinter thinks for a moment. What would it be like to be oppressed by a being blessed by 'god'? Such a life seemed scary, it is tiring to even think about. How tiring must it be to be teased on the brink of death for simply existing. It causes an ache in his chest. He instinctively placed a hand on his chest in response to the feeling. The drones blue eye stares at him, waiting and watching for his next question.

“Why do the Warlords oppress the Lightless?” He asks her.

“Some because they do not know how to survive on their own. Others do it to feel superior.”

“What if they don't harm the lightless but just take territory?”

“Some do that, they are a rare few. They are like ‘The Dragon’.” She says to him.

They fall into silence after that for a few hours. He continues to read to her until another question pops up. “What is your name?”

“I don’t have one.”

The response surprised the Exo ,causing him to open and close his mouth blankly. “But you have given me one.”

“I gave you one because you didn’t have one. Most Exo’s have a name on their body, you don’t.”

Felwinter nodded and saw reason with it. If someone does not have something important it makes sense to offer them that something if you could. A name is important. Kindness should be shared freely, he thought.

“Felspring.” Felwinter says to the drone.

She seemed to be startled. “Flespring?”

“Your name should be Felspring.”

She stares at him with her one blinking blue eye. She seems to be searching for something from his amber eyes. "Your serious?"

Felwinter didn't respond as he waits to see if she outright rejects the name. The little drone, Felspring, let out a heavy sigh. “Ok.” She said defeatedly as he opened another book to read out loud into the quiet space. 

They stayed like that for a time, Felwinter reading books from the library to Felspring. They learned politics, morality, and comedy from many fictional works. Some of the nonfiction works they learned math, science and art. Medicine and engineering was something Felwinter seemed to gravitate to. Creating something from other materials was appealing. Technology was used as tools to better people's lives. Medicine was used to help wounded and pain from small or drastic hurts. 

The lightless would benefit from this knowledge. If they could learn from this they would be less inclined to stay with a ‘bad’ Warlord. Their lives would improve drastically. They could live longer lives. Felwinter excitedly recited his thoughts to Felspring. She had responded in kind. Knowledge in itself was a powerful tool. They would still need to build homes and cities but they could do that easier. They only needed time and safety.

Reaching for another book Felwinter felt a wave of aching in his joints. He doesn’t understand the feeling entirely. It had almost felt as though his body is getting heavier.

“You are tired, Felwinter.” Felspring supplies helpfully. Felwinter responded nodding. He still goes to grab the book. Felspring tsks at him.

“You should go to sleep if you are tired. We are safe here.” There is something unsaid at Felspring using the words 'here.' Perhaps it would be wise to rest while he can. That means he should find a place comfortable as being still for hours seemed like a bad choice. Walking around, Felwinter avoids stepping on any books or tripping over pieces of rubble until he finds a couch. Dusting it off he goes to lie down.

“I will keep watch and will wake you up if I need to.” Her voice whispers into the cold of the library. 

“Okay.” He says as he drifts off to sleep allowing all thoughts to slip from his mind.

[poo0b]

Just realized that I could just add my fic onto here...

ANYWAYS! Here's the masterpost for my chapters.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Hers the Ao3 link if you want to read it there instead.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58803973/chapters/171126238

[poo0b]

As the author of 'A Warmind's Son'-

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58803973

(Here's the link)

I wanted to drop my reasoning for adding that romance that Felwinter has with Aarthi, which is a character a lot of people do not know even existed.

First off, she is a very important character to Felwinter as a whole and even in his book only appeared for one chapter. Now this is entirely my interpretation of them but Aarthi was one of the reasons Felwinter even took the responsibility of becoming a Warlord. I mean multiple times and every time they speak and she brings up the title he denys it.

At some point Aarthi, a Lightless woman gets angry at Felwinter and says these magic words. "What do you think it's like to have the sky constantly falling down on you?"

I do not believe that if she hadn't said those words that Felwinter would ever go so far as find technology for them, not for himself but for other people's comfort. Because at the end of the day he does know what it feels like. Rasputin is literally raining warstats on him anytime he is found.

And yet he finds it in himself to see the similarities and do something about it. BUT that doesn't happen in my fic. Rasputin is not dropping warstats. His sky may be closer than he would like, but he isn't as scared or as paranoid. So I used Aarthi as not the push but as the guide to fully get him to be the selfless and hopeful Felwinter we know. The romance of it is meant to be a sort of showing of him falling once again for humanity through Aarthi.

I just hope I made that clear enough in my writing.

[poo0b]

Greetings, internet people!

So I guess this is my introduction post?! I am Pob or P0o0B, artist and now a fanfic author! This account will be filled to the brim with art, rants, and self-promotion of whatever I do.

Just here to have fun and find an outlet for my creativity.

[poo0b]

Can we just say how amazing it is that Destiny has so much lore. -Like an insane amount of lore, characters, and worlds that we might never get to see for the cost of a rich world building experience. It's the things that we (The Gurdian) don't get to see but experience the echos of it. Wish Bungie could actually utilize it.

[poo0b]

Ever just make a fanfic out of boredom, post it and see people actually read it. Cause like who are you people? How do I show my gratitude and fear of these people!? I am not built for this and I'm already 7 chapter in....

On a real note I'm just glad that out of boredom I have given people a fanfic that they wait for. It's crazy to be on the other side of the screen.

Here is the link to it if anyone is interested!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58803973