Till It's Over (A Destiny 2 Story)

Most Vivid Dream

I had the most vivid dream
My feet had left the ground
I was floating to heaven
But I could only look down
My mind was heavy
Running ragged with worst case scenarios
Emergency exits and the distance below
I woke up so worried that the angels let go

Six – Sleeping at Last

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May 25, 2957, 10:18; The Cradle, Echo Mesa, Io

The man stood on the edge of a crater. A gentle breeze stirred the air around him, playing with the Titan's mark hanging from his belt and raising small, twisting columns of dust from the ground around his feet.

He stared out at the landscape. The crater was bowl-shaped, unnaturally even, like the backsplash of a water droplet caught frozen in stone. In the center the stone pulled upwards, forming a blocky mass of pillars and obelisks. It looked like a half-rendered computer model, completely at odds with its surroundings.

This was a familiar sight. The Cradle was a sacred space. For centuries Guardians had made pilgrimages to Io to think, to commune, and to feel the Traveler's energy. This was the last place it had ever touched. Anyone who came here could feel the Traveler's purpose, its unfinished work like a melody held one note before resolution.

But now Sylas-4 had no Light. He felt nothing. It was just a desolate crater, hundreds of millions of miles away from anywhere he could have called home.

"Why?" he shouted at the empty air. "I came all this way, I gave up on everything I knew, for this? For you." He kicked a fossilized shell. It rattled down the cliffside. His toes throbbed. "For nothing. Why did you call me out here for nothing?"

He was angry. He had every right to be angry. The dreams had spoken to him like a promise, but he'd been conned. There wasn't anything to be gained here, no power, no answers. Just a semispherical depression in the ground and the Traveler's Light which no longer spoke to him.

It was quiet. If he hadn't been yelling at the crater like a madman, he might have heard the Sparrow earlier. As it was, he only had time to turn and watch as the vehicle careened onto his little ledge. Its rider jumped off gracefully, landing with a delicate impact. She watched her Sparrow tumble off the edge and down the cliffside, where it dematerialized.

He recognized her instantly. If it weren't for the cloak, or the Sparrow, he'd have known her by the way she stood. Like her body weighed nothing, shifted onto her toes like she could float away at any moment. She was lithe and balanced and she so obviously had her Light. It wasn't fair.

"Azra Jax," Sylas growled.

"Sy," Azra said with a relieved familiarity. "It's good to see you again."

"What are you doing here?" the Titan asked, accusation in his voice.

The Hunter pulled off her helmet. Her face was a mix of regret and warmth, head cocked just a little to the side, heels finally coming to touch the ground as she relaxed her posture. "I came looking for you," the Hunter said. "And Ikora," she amended. "We could have sent Veera, but I had a feeling..."

"A feeling," Sylas muttered. He crossed his arms in a rejection of the notion, but could not help but turn and look out over the crater again, searching.

"I'm sorry," Azra said. It wasn't clear exactly what she was apologizing for. The list was a complicated one.

Sylas spoke. "I left the City, I abandoned the people who needed me, like you did." He couldn't keep the loathing from his voice, nor did he try. There was no pretense of formality he could fall back on now. "I cobbled together a warp drive. I followed my visions, here. All for what? A hole in the ground." He kicked another rock off the edge. It fell out of view instantly. "How did it happen for you? How do you have your Light?"