It Finds A Way

The Beginning

It had been roughly a month since the fall of the last city. Or at least, what could only be interpreted as a month. The days and time ran together in a haze for the survivors of the fall. A month that felt like an eternity for a particular one it's orphaned guardians.
Once abandoned by the reef, now abandoned by the light, a nameless warlock wanders the infinite wastelands of what used to be the city. Ghaul and his armies had taken earth by storm. The once lively and bustling city was in barren, incoherent shambles. No life could been detected by miles, at least not by the warlock's badly battle damaged ghost. What little light was left in the shell was reserved specifically for keeping their guardian mostly alive.
The warlock falls to her knees in front of what used to be a local family diner. The children who once played here, the families and friendships born, and the memories of hundreds of smiling, happy humans. Gone, in an instant.

"How can life be snuffed out so fast? How fragile it must be." The ever pragmatic warlock thought. It had been a long while, almost too long to remember, since the warlock had known what death felt like. Life was a fickle concept to the warlock. Something so easily snatched away, yet so invaluable.

For the first time since she was given a new breath, she truly felt alive. She felt real and raw without the everlasting protection of the traveler and her ghost. This, in her mind, was not a good thing. She did not like the feeling of being alive, it felt to her like being lost in a forest without a map. "How can I go on?" She pondered. She looked up to the crooked, busted LED sign that once lit up the streets of the city at night. She shoots to her feet and in flash of heat, she felt something boil in her chest. A feeling of warm, fluid anger that she had not grasped until now. These were HER people, HER city, and HER home.

"I am nothing without my light! I was brought here to protect these people and look at me now!" Her voice started to rise from her throat in a newfound rage, bellowing through the empty street. She kicks a large piece of debris of what used to be the front wall of the shop. Her anger travelled from her voice into the empty night air as she cried. "Look at me now!" Her hands trembled as her heart rate skyrocketed, her every thought being filled with an unquenched ferocity. She was pissed.

At Ghaul and the Red Legion.

At the Traveler.

And most of all, at herself.

In her rage she grasps the underside of her helmet and pulls it upward off of her face. She spikes it into the dirt beside her, cracking the glass of the eye windows. The breeze of the night wind smelled stagnant and crisp. She breathed in heavy though her teeth, the chill of the air freezing her teeth and tongue. Her pale purple skin was flushed with anger, the only relief from the heat being the rolling tears dripping from her eyes. She didn't even realize she was crying, she only felt the heat of the blood rushing to her head. Her cold hands find their way to her face, and she cradles her cheeks as if trying to console herself. The wind began to howl aggressively, and she knew she must get out of the streets. She was vulnerable to more than just the Cabal now, the elements now held a particular threat, something she hadn't experienced in her time as a guardian. Sickness.

She gathered herself for all of a moment to hide away in the wreckage of the shop, behind what used to be the counter where the happy customers would sit. At this point she had gone from angrily grumbling and kicking the dirt to audibly sobbing on the ground, all alone in her our sorrow. She curled into herself, alone, oh so incredibly alone. The whimpers echoed into the darkness, where they found themselves lost. Lost, until the sensors of an unknown being picked up the faint sounds in the distance.

"What's that?" The being asked themselves. "....who's that?' They asked softer, and then slowly hobbled towards this newfound noise in the vast, empty night.