#Dash Comm;; Live Stream Broadcast | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

myssthyss · 7 years ago

Text

Seraph’s Song

The promised story about Myss’ experience with the Hive’s Void Rituals. Enjoy!

« No, no! You already took my Ghost... Please! »

The panicked Guardian’s voice dropped a weight in the stomachs of the fireteam making their way towards the source of the transmission, the two Hunters hopping along as if that would get them there faster.

“The Hive took his Ghost?” The taller Hunter asked the Warlock, the source of most of the fireteam’s knowledge.

“Perhaps. Or there’s another creature down here that would.” He paused, electrocuting an Acolyte that dared to charge him. “I’m sure the Hive are aware of the abilities our Ghosts have to revive us, and they probably want to prevent that if they are, in fact, performing death experiments.”

The taller Hunter swallowed thickly, dodging out of the way of another Acolyte’s swing. “I hate the Hive. I want to get out of here.” The next Thrall she knifed had extra vigor behind it. “I feel contaminated, and they smell.”

“You don’t get used to it.” Answered the smaller Hunter. “Unless you’re Eris Morn.”

That caused both the Warlock and the smaller Hunter to chuckle. The taller Hunter was relieved for the short moment of levity, but her discomfort got the better of her and she dashed off in the direction her Ghost told her to go. They had to find - no - they had to save these Guardians.

As the taller Hunter rounded the corner, a wave of Darkness fell heavy on her chest as she took potshots at two acolytes running off to the left. Something felt eerily familiar, and terribly foreboding. She managed to push past it and pop the head off of one of the Acolytes, and focused her scope in the direction they were running.

[The broadcast came from this room. Where’s that Guardian?]

She could almost feel the Light drain from her body.

“--ss! Get out of here! I’ll hold them off!”

The Wizard’s sickly form is framed by a bright purple glow, arched over a crystal as big as she was.

“Get to the City! Live! I l-AAAAAA--”

She could feel the energy - so much like her own Light - emanating from that crystal, and she’s back in that moment a year and a half ago.

“Seraph...? Seraph! Seraph, No... NO!”

She doesn’t remember dashing behind the half-wall, but she’s there, curled up on herself, hands gripping her hood tightly enough to tear it. Her face is contorted, tears streaming from her eyes as she wails in horror.

“Not again!” She manages through choked sobs. “This isn’t happening again!”

Her Ghost materializes before her, attempting to soothe her through her convulsions. [Myss! Myss, deep breaths. Please.] He never wished for a body more than in this moment - if only he could cradle his Guardian and comfort her through this nightmare. [I know - I know this is terrifying. I was there too. But we’re stronger now! Please, Myss.]

The Warlock and smaller Hunter have caught up now, both immediately firing on the Wizard at the top of the stairs. The Warlock notices that the taller Hunter is nowhere to be seen, and there is no Ghost nearby waiting to be assisted in her revival.

“Myss?! Where did you go?” He calls out over the comms as the smaller Hunter defeats the Wizard, subsequently popping the crystal. Its contents are revealed, and his Ghost comments on it.

[That’s Void Light in there! How?]

The Warlock’s stomach drops.

Myss is a prodigious Nightstalker. That couldn’t be -

That’s when he hears the wailing coming from the back of the room, and so does the smaller Hunter, and so do several Thralls that appear from beneath the stairs. The Warlock leaves the job of defense to the smaller Hunter, and he dashes to the source of the cries.

The Warlock slides behind the half wall and releases a rift for safety, a small Arc Soul appearing on the shoulders of all three of them.

[--Inhale. Inhale, Myss. Please.] The Ghost encourages, only inches from his charge’s face. Then he notices the Arc Soul, and the Warlock’s presence. [Warcry. You need to snap her out of it.]

“What’s wrong, Casper?” the Warlock asks, putting a hand on the Hunter’s shoulder. Her eyes were distant, and the tears free-flowing. The Warlock had never seen her like this. In fact, if it weren’t for this moment, he’d have almost laughed at the thought of his six-foot-plus fireteam member in such a distraught and vulnerable state.

[This mission is reminding her of Seraph.] That name rung a bell in the Warlock’s memory. [She was Myss’ first friend after I resurrected her. We lost her to a Hive Wizard before we made it to the City, identically to how we just lost that Guardian we were tracking.]

It made sense to him now. The Warlock knew very well how much Myss disliked the Hive, as many Guardians did, but he never knew exactly why. Not until this moment.

[Her hood’s what’s left of Seraph’s cloak, Warcry.] The Ghost added, knowing how much weight that statement carried.

The Warlock turned back to the smaller Hunter, who’d been listening to the updates as she fired on the oncoming Thralls. The pair shared a sympathetic look with each other, and the smaller Hunter nodded gently towards her wailing fireteam member.

“Snap her out of it, bun.” The smaller Hunter orders. “She needs to know we’re not gonna lose her, and that she’s not gonna lose us.”

The Warlock nods, and turns back towards the other Hunter. He moves his arm from her shoulder to her back, and places his other arm on her knee.

“Myss. Myss come back to us. We’re here.” The Warlock croons. He tightens his grip on her gently, and the Hunter consciously inhales for what seems like the first time. The wails don’t stop, but they seem to slow. “We’re gonna make these Hive pay, and make it back to the City.” The Warlock squeezes again. “I promise.”

The only foe left is the Shrieker at the other end of the room, so the smaller Hunter joins in on the comforting contact. “We’re not going anywhere, Myss.” She adds, rubbing the top of her head.

The wails quiet, and the taller Hunter’s eyes cram shut - though the tears don’t stop. She leans into the embrace of her fireteam members, and begins taking deep breaths.

They’re here. I’m here. They’re strong. I’m strong. They’ll live. I’ll live.

She tells herself these statements constantly over the next several minutes, breathing in time, until she’s finally calm enough to lift her head. Her weepy, swollen, glowing eyes meet the - also glowing - eyes of her fireteam, and she smiles at them.

Her Ghost seems to heave a sigh of relief in time with her fireteam, and he can’t help but nuzzle up against her damp cheek. She repays him in kind with a light kiss to his eye.

“Thanks, guys.” The taller Hunter croaks. “We’re gonna make it out of here.”

“That we are.” The Warlock confirms, standing tall.

The smaller Hunter also stands, pulling out her Wardcliff. “Let’s kick some stinky Hive ass.”

The taller Hunter can’t help her giggles as she makes her way to her feet, her Ghost dematerializing. She looks down at her fireteam, and pulls them both into a very large - and very tight - embrace. “Let’s go save those Guardians.”

With that, the fireteam continues on their mission, discovering some of the nuances of the Void Rituals. Destroying each crystal - and seeing every Guardian’s dead Ghost sitting on the hive casing of their charge’s Light - feels like she’s destroying Seraph herself each time. Every detail they learn makes the taller Hunter ill, and she can feel the eyes of her fireteam on her every time Taeko-3 talks about her situation.

In turn, she talks to Taeko-3 constantly and comforts her by expressing her understanding of her current predicament. The taller Hunter assures Taeko-3 that they’re here, they’re strong, and that they’ll all live. She won’t run away this time.

Unfortunately, the universe tips in favour of the Hive today.

The taller Hunter knows what Taeko-3 is planning, and begs her to reconsider her suicidal plan. She tells her Seraph’s story, though it doesn’t change her mind. The team and their Ghosts plead with Taeko-3 to hold tight as they race towards her location, but they’re too late.

[Taeko...]

The taller Hunter sees the crystal sitting below the enormous sleeping Shrieker and wants so badly to run, but she promised Taeko-3 she wouldn’t.

“Myss.” the Warlock says, placing a hand on the taller Hunter’s shoulder. “This could be a good opportunity for some closure.”

The taller Hunter sighs heavily and hops towards the crystal in the centre of the room. The Warlock and the smaller Hunter hang back by the door, giving their partner some privacy.

She gently brushes the empty Ghost shell resting on the Hive casing, before placing a hand on the crest of the crystal. Closing her eyes, she reaches into her Light, into the Void, and also into the crystal. From it, she pulls her memories of Seraph - the good ones - and smiles.

She remembers the nights they spent by the campfire on their journey to the City, and Seraph’s innate ability to weave song out of nothing. Myss often fell asleep to Seraph’s songs, and even to her soft humming as she also drifted off to sleep. Those were the nights she’d wished would last forever, if she could listen to Seraph sing until the sun rose.

Gripping her hood, a tear slips down her face, and she exhales. Quietly, she speaks.

“Goodbye, Seraph. I love you.”

The taller Hunter opens her eyes, inhales, and shatters the crystal with her knife. “Thank you, Taeko-3. We won’t forget your sacrifice.”

The Shrieker wakes, and the taller Hunter turns towards her fireteam - her family.

“Let’s go!”

#destiny #destiny the game #destiny 2 #destiny fic #guardian oc #destiny fanfiction #[fic]#[meta]#[seraph]#[taleofmyss]

37 notes · View notes