Destiny, Side Episode VI: Discord

Previous Episode: Episode XII, The Sword of Crota
Next Episode: Episode XIII, Shrines of Oryx

The Tower, the Last City, Earth
Day 030

            Ikora Rey watched their every footstep as the Paladins walked away from the Hall of Guardians. The elder Warlock sighed heavily-she had lost her temper, and said things that she would come to regret. It wouldn’t be the only thing that would trouble her come night. As she made a mental note to buy the Titan some gift in recompense, she turned back to see Cayde-6 staring at her, the Exo’s head cocked like a curious dog. “You, uh, feelin’ alright, Ikora?” The Hunter asked, his arms folded in concern. “It isn’t like you to snap.” He shrugged. “Well, ‘least not anymore.”

            “I am just a little pressured, Cayde.” Ikora replied dismissively. “Recent events have demanded a great deal of time and energy, and even I can’t avoid sleep forever.” Cayde shrugged again, before leaning his hands on the table to get a better look at whatever map he had managed to dig up this time. From the angle she was at, Ikora could see scrawled markings of Golden Age facilities and great craters-a map made before Mare Imbrium, she realized with a start. She allowed herself the luxury of a bemused smile-the man had a way of procuring ancient scripts that would put a Warlock to shame. In another life, perhaps he might have worn the armlet Bonds that marked Ikora’s Order.

            A soft beep came from Ikora’s robes, and the elder Warlock silenced the small device attached to her belt with a touch. Cayde looked up to face the noise. “Someone tryin’ to reach you?” He asked.

            “The Postmaster.” Ikora lied quickly, stepping away from the table. “There are some packages I must retrieve.” Cayde raised a suspicious finger, but before he could make an accusation, Ikora was already heading up the stairs. The Hunter put his finger down and shot a look at Zavala, who returned the glance icily.

            “Y’know, I could swear she had an entire Order of Warlocks to do her legwork for her.” Cayde quipped. Commander Zavala just rolled his eyes and returned his mind to wars yet to come.

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            The Hidden agent stood atop a balcony watching over the plaza, observing silently. If anyone knew she was there, no one turned to look up at her, which suited her just fine. She turned to face the sound of footsteps on the plasteel stairs, and bowed her head slightly at the approach of the Warlock Vanguard. “Ikora.” She said, her voice low.

            “Eris.” Ikora replied. She felt a chill run down her spine as she looked at the blanched white face of the Guardian before her, hard and cold like marble. A black linen wrap concealed her eyes, three emerald lights shining through the cloth. Dark tendrils of a gas seeped down from behind the cover, a corruption that persisted despite being so close to the Traveler’s Light. Eris had done terrible, unimaginable things to survive the Darkness of the pit, and the mere thought of it made Ikora’s stomach churn.

            “I listened to your little briefing.” Eris started. “Why did you lie to them?”

            “About the sword?” Ikora shook her head. “There was no need to worry them with the truth you shared with me. They are too young, too new.”

            “And too uninformed.” Eris countered. “They will return from this believing they have struck some great victory against the Hive.” Ikora raised an eyebrow as she folded her arms against her chest.

           

            “Haven’t they?” She asked. “Any blade gone from this world, any Hive Prince defeated, is a blow against the enemy. We consider that a win in the Tower.”

            “Then you are fools.” Eris replied, turning away to look out at the Traveler, still hanging silently over the City. When she turned back, there was a fear etched into her face that Ikora had not noticed before. “Crota is awakening.” Ikora felt the blood rush away from her face.

            “That’s impossible.” She said. “There have been no sightings of Him since you and your team went into-“

            “We killed the body.” Eris interrupted, stepping towards the elder Warlock. “But not the soul. The Hive hide their deaths in other worlds, and we paid to learn this truth in blood. The Blades of Crota are starting to assemble. We both know this invasion of the Cosmodrome is not a coincidence. They landed there for a reason.”

            “Rasputin.” Ikora realized with a start. “They’re looking for the Warmind.” Eris nodded, and a twisted smile faintly appeared.

            “Yes, I believe so.” She said. “Perhaps there is hope for the City yet.” For the first time, Ikora realized that Eris had been holding something in her hands, a strange green orb that shined with some strange, unnatural light. When Eris realized that Ikora was looking at it, the woman put it behind her. Ikora frowned, but knew better than to press-even a Hidden agent needed her own secrets. “I am returning to the Hellmouth, to continue to watch.”

            “Eris, there’s no need for that.” Ikora said, raising a hand. “You have been through so much. There are others that can take your place.” Eris paused for a moment, and stared at Ikora. The woman then straightened her shoulders, shaking her head.

            “No. No one else has walked the road I have. Only I can do this.” She replied. In a flash of blue light, she was gone. Her jumpship roared overhead, its course set for Luna. Ikora sighed, turned, and walked back down to the Hall of Guardians. Every step of the way, her mind was racing, wondering about what Eris had said. Could it be true, she wondered. Could Crota be returning? The Vanguard had surrendered the Moon to the Hive in the wake of the disaster at Mare Imbrium. There was no more land left to give now. If the Hive came, and came in force, the elder Warlock wondered if there was any chance that the Guardians could hold their hordes back.

            As she took her place at the Vanguard table, her mind turned to the plight of Eris Morn, Crota’s Bane, the Last of her Fireteam. She went down into the pit so many years ago, and faced nightmares beyond Ikora’s imagination. Now? Now she was returning to that dark below, keeping a vigil for humanity. Ikora paused for a moment, then picked up her datapad and began to type a message to the Speaker. It was time to find Eris a home in the Tower, where the Light of the Traveler could touch her troubled soul.