Destiny: Fireteam Euphrati

Chapter One

The long trenchcoat snapped in a weak gust, the black and grey fabric flapping in the evening breeze as the Warlock walked down the quiet street, her hands in her pockets.

Her bond glowed faintly, the symbol of the Vulture casting its faint blue light on her sleeve. She knew it was taboo amongst the Warlock Orders to change bonds, but it was simply something she did. 'What good is a lesson once it becomes redundant?' She reasoned to herself.

A member of the Old Guard, she had learned many lessons. She fought alongside the Lords of Iron years ago and had a good friendship with Saladin as well as his former companion Lord Shaxx, though she was careful to avoid the subject.

As a Voidwalker and Stormcaller, she found herself in an uncomfortable position. The Warlock Orders eschewed walking two paths, something that never ceased to confound her.

"Why," she remembered asking Ikora when she was much younger. "Why would Orders of knowledge condemn the learning of many paths? If you walk in the Light, what is so wrong?"

The stoic, dark skinned woman had simply given her a faint, knowing smile. "Warlocks do not need the orders, Guardian," she replied. "Rather, the Orders need Warlocks. Show them that they need someone like you."

It was something she would remember for years, and decided she would live up to.

While she and Ikora were vastly different people with vastly different ways of approaching what it meant to be a Guardian, she had immense respect for the woman who had taken her under her wing when she first went shuffling into the Hall of Guardians in a mix of awe and fear.

Turning the corner, she held her hand out, her Ghost phasing into view, the dark crimson of his shell turning purple in the faint light.

The little floating thing had all the wit and charm of his Guardian. The Warlock knew some of her fellows viewed the Ghosts as little more than tools, but she simply couldn't see it. Each one was unique, and each carried a spark of the Traveler, a spark of Light, just as each Guardian did.

The neighborhoods of the Last City were all vastly different, the area the Warlock strode through was old and worn down, a higher crime rate, not a place upper-echelon Guardians would associate themselves with. She snorted at the thought.

"Ghost, do you know if he's there already?"

The tiny thing bobbed alongside her at shoulder level. "I believe so, yes." His voice carried just the faintest traces of artificially-created sounds.

Thinking to herself, the dark haired woman ducked into the doorway of a rather shoddy building, LED lights flashing and the subtle bass reverberations of the particular song playing shaking the step beneath her boots.

The club was known for violence. In a gang controlled area, it wasn't uncommon. Vae Victus was both a popular and unpopular frequenter. The owners of the establishment had always welcomed her, though other patrons gave her viscious looks due to bruised egoes. When she had the opportunity, she would make her usual check-in on the club in a very obvious way of keeping the gang aware that there was a Guardian presence in their territory.

If she couldn't, her fireteam would pull favors from mutual friends. Though she would give the individuals a very specific run-downs on who to keep an eye on, the warrior-scholar much preferred coming herself.

Nodding to her Ghost, she closed the door behind her as he phased out of view.

The lighting was dim, save for the usual blue and purple strobes on the dancefloor. The bar had orange and red backlighting, and amongst those around it, she saw an individual that stuck out like a sore thumb.