Chapter Text
The Peak had become louder as there was talk of a Vanguard being nominated. A shiny new title that would claim a being as the sole head of Lightbearers in the Last City. It is not one he wishes on any one person to have. The Speaker’s fingerprints are written all over it, but it is not something the Iron Lords have said in. This is the City’s first chance of forming something to govern themselves, to crush it or manipulate it even with good intentions would not do well. Saint-14, Hero of Six Fronts and son of the Speaker would be the obvious choice, a good choice. But as people discuss who they think will take the job, the Iron Lords wait and watch.
Whoever they choose would be the turning point of this new era. The Dark Age is done. There is relief in the notion of change but there is more of that unknown fear that threatens the walls. We are still ways away. Fallen are still at large as it seems that House Kings have returned to the shadows and House Devils are still quiet. The threat of the darkness still looms. Rasputin did not win, he protected himself and abandoned humanity.
Felwinter knows it is not that simple but he cannot help how he feels on the matter. Self preservation: allowing the chance of survival based solely on humanity surviving on their own. Or Self sacrifice: giving your life up for the chance they may live because you fell. A gamble that is well beyond simple calculations.
It doesn’t matter now.
“Why did you continue seeing Rasputin?” Gryphon asked as he helped himself to the cookies Felwinter had been given. “I know that you got things out of it, but was it really worth it?”
“He was easy to manipulate to get what I wanted. Besides, he would not kill Felspring.”
Gryphon before had seen beyond his words. He hasn’t lost his touch it seems. “Was it really what you wanted? Or was it what they needed?”
Objectively he should lie.
But he doesn’t say a word. It doesn’t matter in the end. What’s done is done. It is a marvel that someone knocks on the door. He was going to open it but Gryphon insisted on heading over first. Felwinter could only huff and hope that it was not someone who’d gossip. Humans are strange in their intimacies and more so when it means to talk about others. Being on a mountain full of Lightbearers who many haven't had the privilege of existing next to other people had led to some…interesting moments.
When the door is open it is Lord Radegast who stands uncomfortably at the doorway. Gryphon is the first face he sees and it shocks the man enough to pause the words he was about to say.
Gryphon just smiles at him before introducing himself. “You must be Lord Radegast. I’m Gryphon-11, to meet another of Felwinter’s friends is a grand honor.”
“Likewise.” Lord Radegast looks to Felwinter and then further inside the observatory. “I would like to speak to Lord Felwinter, alone.”
Lord Radegast doesn’t speak to him unless he is forced to do so. Felwinter turns to Gryphon who already understands. “I’ll tour the temple in the meantime. Thank you for the help, Felwinter.”
He nods and watches as the Exo very awkwardly slips by the tower of a man. They stand for a moment as Felspring begins to warm water for tea. “Let's discuss inside.”
“Yes.” The word was lengthened as he stepped inside. He had never been inside the observatory. “I have never seen you with that exo before is-”
“I believe he’s told you his name.” Felwinter cuts him off. “We knew each other when we were both New Lights. It is a coincidence that he has some information on the Warmind.”
“Ah, I see. A mere collaboration then.” His gloves are thick and free of metal and armor. He picks up the blueprints and Felwinter allows it.
“A simplistic description.”
“Inaccurate?” He asks.
“Irrelevant.” Felwinter takes the blueprint back. “The Iron Lords are not ready for a confrontation with Rasputin.”
“What of SIVA? Are we not ready enough for that?” The man does not spit his words but it is obvious that he isn’t pleased.
Felwinter turns a page over to the Iron Lord. “The Warmind was made to protect humanity, even from itself. He will not listen to anything without pure logic. Everything else is asinine.“
“You’ve spoken to Rasputin?” It is an innocent question but it is laced with something.
“No. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t gotten the message. I have died under his watch many times.”
There is a pause to the Iron Lords movement. “Why?”
“A nebulous question. Do you ask ‘why I died’ or ‘why was I killed’.” He doesn’t look at him as he makes the tea. “One could even ask ‘why die at all.’”
“Why do you keep trying?” Lord Radegast is tired. He wonders if it matches his own hidden enervated mind. It concerns them all that their friend has become more and more aggressive as a result of being unable to give their people security.
“We were given a second chance that many cannot afford. If I am not using it to the fullest then I am undeserving of it.”
“Yet you are still against SIVA.”
“SIVA would be life changing for the City, but it cannot be the thing that destroys it. It will eat the City’s heart and crawl into their blood. There would be no surviving it.”
“You're afraid of it.” Lord Radegast looks at the cup with red colored tea. “You’ve always been afraid of it, haven’t you?”
“I fear what might become of the people: who have yet to know sleep without fear, to die without autonomy." Felwinter puts down his cup. “Death has no mercy as it cannot feel the hole it leaves behind, only that it must be done.”
There is silence as Lord Radegast takes a sip of the tea. “I believe you said it best, operational necessity." It is a cruel statement.
“A neutral answer to partisanship.” Felwinter turns his head to the side and quickly has his space invaded. A frame’s hand is going for his throat and he kicks the back of his knee. It forces the thing forward and it is pulled down to its knees for Felwinter to grab.
Lord Radegast grabs his forearm quickly and firmly. “Felwinter, I was not trying to harm you.”
Felwinter doesn’t move and doesn’t ease his hold.
“I’m not here to hurt you, not again.” There is a hesitation in his voice, as if saying that last part meant something.
Felwinter backs off and allows him to get up. His own hands shake at the fact he had thought- is he scared?
He doesn’t think he's ever heard this man whisper to him before. “I didn’t know it would scar. I-,” a heavy pause as he swallows, “I didn’t know you’d keep it.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. The placement doesn’t allow me to fix it.”
“Felwinter-” Lord Radegast tries.
“Get out.”
“My Fr-” he attempts again.
“Out. You’ve said your piece, out.”
When the door closes there is no relief that he is gone. Only a growing tightness under the wires beneath his metal flesh. Why now? Why does he ask this now? Why do they care now?
He would ask Osiris for help on some of his repairs. There are not many he would trust enough for it and fewer who would even know how to. So he waits on the carpeted floor sitting with his armor off. It is a vulnerability he's only shown Timur once. When his spine hurt and Felspring couldn’t fix it.
His hands felt cold as he was meticulous in realigning the segments. Lord Timur talked him through the processes as if he knew the fear Felwinter had in allowing him to help. Felspring watched the entire thing and guaranteed no foul play, there was nothing on his back that proved what he was.
And if Lord Timur, his friend and greatest risk to his life, were to have his hands linger at the gash in his back, no one was none the wiser for it. If he had asked him again why Felwinter won’t search for the man who gained that scar, if Felwinter had responded sharply. That was something that would not repeat again.
Osiris came back with tools and an array of metals.
“I have never worked on someone alive. You are aware of that?” Osiris says without an ounce of caution.
“Felspring will guide you whenever you need it, but I am confident in our Vanguard’s ability to perform.”
His friend lets out a loud sigh at that. “Just take off your robes.”
When Osiris touches his back he does so without asking questions. His hands are warm and he does so with care. There is reverence in his touch and he leans into it. It is nice to not be seen as just metal, but as a being encased in it. Osiris fixes him as though he is what he is, a friend asking for help.
When it comes to his throat it is when Osiris hesitates. The back of his sun kissed hand pressed flat against the dented finger prints. A question hangs and he hesitates to answer it, if he even should.
“Who did this to you?” He asked, there is an unfriendly glint in his eyes as he does so.
“Classified information.”
“Why did they do this to you?” The next question came quickly.
“Because I was stubborn and didn’t act accordingly." It was a nice way to put it.
Osiris begins to remove the damaged metal and avoids the melted wires. These cannot be fixed but they can be cleaned up. “What would you have done if you didn’t become an Iron Lord? I don’t believe I’ve ever asked that.”
Felwinter moves his head to allow Osiris a better view. “I would have waited on that mountain top till someone else could take my place.”
“And then?” His hazel eyes look up at him in a way he hasn’t since his early days on the Peak.
“I think I would have continued my search for the Warmind; for resources. But if not for that I think I would have left Sol.” Osiris moves over to a band like scar on his arm. “The stars seemed like good company.”
What he expected his friend to do was reach for the black metal that matches his. Instead he reaches for gold. When the fix is done a permanent band of gold is a part of his upper arm.
“Warlocks wear a bond on their arm. Titans wear a mark that hangs from their belt. Hunters keep their knives and hand cannons on their belts and anywhere else they can place them, or cloaks." Osiris looks older than he should. Tired but filled with a determination that he hopes never burns out. “I know they are not terms you are used to-”
“I know what they mean, Osiris. Back then when things were still new with Lightbearers Ghost attempted to categorize their Risen, it did not stick. How humorous that it has come back around after all these years.”
Osiris contemplates something after the thought. “Are you a Warlock or are you something else, Felwinter?” There is a smugness in his voice as he clearly already knows.
“If I were not a Warlock, my heart would have belonged to being a Titan.”
“Yet you barely leave a mark in the snow. Like a hunter who doesn’t want to be found.” It is a small jab at him. They both know it.
“Even if I do not want to be found, should you ever need me I’ll be there. For as long as I am able to, lean on me.”
Osiris seems uneasy about something. “Do you not approve of me becoming Vanguard?” It is a tone that cuts the air. A shield of thorns. This was the topic they have been avoiding, but Osiris is not patient.
“I believe that you will do what is necessary for the City to thrive. But I also know you Osiris, I worry that they won’t let you go when you find yourself in a cage within these walls instead of at home.”
Osiris seems to want to argue but Sagira notifies him that his presence is needed. They instead say their goodbyes.
A place for Lightbearers has been made, the Tower. The building so far is white. A pure white that signifies hope and a new chance of prosperity. It is a sterile cold white, even if dressed in newer names. Felwinter avoids the construction and the halls. The black gloss of Rasputin's bunkers and the cold white of Clovis Bray’s many buildings. Seems he is doomed to hate monochrome.
Felwinter knows who stands behind him in the new garden. He doesn’t even need his friend’s eyes to hear the man now dressed in more white than before. With cleaner and less ragged clothes. A transformation that our silent god has yet given us.
“I am glad that you are enjoying the more immersive parts of the City, Lord Felwinter.” The Speaker's voice is near echoing behind him.
He does not offer a response and instead goes to leave.
“You study the work of the Warmind, yes?” The man begins as calmly as a man who is about to tell the weather. He waves away Ghosts that hover around him. “Would you mind telling me why? I am sure there are better uses for your talents.”
“Like sending your son to fight the front lines alonesome?” Felwinter inches closer, he towers over him in more ways than one. “Or is it that you wish that you could send me? Speaker of the Traveler.”
The man tilts his head, the mask feigning nothing. “Is that what you assume of me?”
“I trust Lady Efrideet’s judgment; she says that you are a good man, I trust that she would not bring someone in that would try and siphon power, that a man who helped the Titan Vanguard Saint-14, Hero of this very city, to not be so flippant where he digs his hands into.”
There is a human reaction, he leans his chin down. It is not shame. “Is protecting our people by any means not something a good man would do?”
There is a distasteful tang in his mouth. This is a man who wanted to put his own son as commander, he is the one that approved of letting Osiris then take his place. “That all depends on you, Speaker.” There is a knife that Felspring gives him when asked. The human in front of him doesn’t even balk at it. “Are you prepared for the consequences of every action you inflict?"
He does something he might regret, but if humanity was going to survive without him, well they needed someone they would listen to. So Felwinter holds the knife for him to take. It belongs to a Seraph, may it guide them to Rasputin’s heart. A place that only had room for one, and a machine has no place in it.
Only when the Speaker takes it from his hands does he give him what he wants.
“Never search for the Warmind, it will come when it deems itself worthy to protect humanity again.”
When the Iron Lords are called to the Consensus it is years after it was made. They joined the meeting diplomatically, yes, but for ten of them to be here now is unusual. To have the same ten at Six Fronts, well that was a choice made by Commander Osiris. He trusts that they might join in a hunt of the Ahamkara.
The creatures found on Venus by the hunters Osiris sent and they have since spread themselves out. Majestic and powerful even their bones carry the weight of their will. Wish granters that cost enough to fill their stomachs as they tear at reality for balance. They don’t see fairness, only a means to eat.
Like the Fallen, they are not at fault for their struggles. They are simply hungry. That's all. The meeting was filled with people missing this fact. That they are monsters that need to be put down as if they force people to wish. As if it is not people that come to them with their wishes.
There is a sense in it, to hunt them. To lessen their numbers. But to extinction? It is clear that they would do the same to him if they knew. If he let them know he would be killed. Not being human allows for the notion of being unauthorized to receive basic rights.
Felwinter does not offer any input on the topic and watches as they make their choice. The Ahamkara hunt is set to begin. No one would stop it. This is not right, there is no justice in mass genocide. So when the meeting ends Felwinter is the first to leave in an unknown anger.
The first time he leaves Earth it is to follow his Iron Lords to enact a genocide of a paracausal dragons.
“Their reason is sound.” Felspring had said. “Wishes of knowledge, power and a change to the future and past is not something that can be ignored.”
“If you replace the topic with me. The same could be said.”
“That is unfair Felwinter. You have done good for humanity.” She tried to plead with him.
“As have I been covered in their blood. What stains me is what they see first. The only reason I live is because they see a human being.”
Her shell had spun seven times in bitter thought. “Is that what this is about? You see kinship in the dragons? There is only one of you, Felwinter. An exception, your history is forever entwined with theirs. You are as human as they are, the only difference is that you were never born.”
“How long till they convince themselves that I am not human enough to be worth my existence? My life is only as good enough as my worth.”
“You are being pessimistic Felwinter.”
Felwinted had thought hard during that conversation. How to explain himself in his logic. “When a wolf bites someone's hand they thought to kill it comes to mind.” Felspring watched quietly as an ant. “But if a human bites someone's hand there is never a thought to kill them for it.”
“But the wolf only has his mouth to defend itself. A human doesn’t have to bite, it's unusual an-” She had tried to argue.
“The wolf cannot speak to defend itself. A wolf cannot say it was an accident or state its intention. It is just a wolf, an animal.”
There was a heavy pause. “So the secret must be kept.” She had said sorrowfully. Not because she mourns not being able to tell it, but because she weeps for Felwinter to not be given the right to tell it lest he want to lose his right to live.
“So the lie lives on until I die.” He had told her and like always the lie is still set in stone.
The Ahamkara to humanity is just the wolf that bites.
The wish dragons themselves are mighty in their appearance. Their very air rings in whispers to caution yourself and lure you closer. He had never looked for one. Osiris had told him with a heavy look the reports of Lightbearers, Guardians of the Last City, going out of their way to find these creatures for a wish. How it destroyed many and themselves in the process. Sometimes they go years without the brutality of balance. It's not a matter of what but when.
Osiris does not agree with killing all the Ahamkara. Says it is blind fools that go looking for open ended solutions and yet are surprised and drag others with their reaping consequences. As Commander Vanguard, Osiris, had yielded to the Speaker in allowing the hunt. Said how they will regret it when the bones of the beast are scattered around Sol like sand in the wind. How it will be him who has to deal with what they sow.
When the ship touches the surface of Venus there is little time to waste. They quickly join the men and women the vanguard had sent. Interestingly enough, Vanguard Tallulah Fairwind has joined them. She and her hunter are leading the way scouting for lairs and what not.
This will make the Hunt quicker.
This is a war as much as it is a hunt. They do not see what he sees. Many will die. Desires are woven into the soul and no words need to be spoken for the twisting of fate. It has barely started and he already grieves for the losses that will come.
There is no justice in this.
Soon it came to be that no one is to go alone. Groups of two and more formed but never one. Not after so many Guardians have perished already. It is of unfortunate circumstances that Lord Radegast has partnered with him.
What makes matters worse is that the Ahamkara have found him desirable.
One had pushed Lord Radegast far from the fight just to talk to Felwinter one on one. It was large and its bony face with bristled teeth chittered. How its voices claimed with the certainty of a smug god. “You seek the power to protect. The power of a machine lost in the sky…” But it is no god.
Felwinter does not heed to gods.
“Oh Silent Thing mine, your fears will be quaked from their final breath. Dreams halted to a slumber and your name-”
Felwinter stays hidden as he curls the Light closer to his core. He needs to get out of this small space. Trapped in its lair he needs to get out.
“What was that name of yours? Oh Hidden mine? A life you’ve only lived once, wouldn’t you want to know of who you were? Of what you were?”
Anger flashed and he put far too much Light into the explosion.
He shouldn’t have let the words get to him. He is above this. Why does his past still haunt him, why did the Traveler bring him back? Why do others have the chance to start from scratch, why not him? Why does this have to be his life? Why does he have to lie?
The machine with two names stands in the dust of a broken demolished building. Green flames dance around him as the bones of the poor thing are scattered about. It doesn’t move from its spot as it just stares until there is not even the whispers left for the dead dragon to give. Slowly it picks up a bone, a sternebra. For life on Earth to still have this bone unfused means that it was adolescent, a child or at least not yet an adult. Is it the same with them?
Three sets of foot steps come from behind him and only then does he snap out of it.
When he turns he sees Lord Shaxx with two others, Zavala and Ikora Ray. It surprises Felwinter as he thought they were further away on their own hunt. He quietly walks away from the middle of the crater to them.
“Has something happened?”
Zavala who he had spoken to many times in his training with Lord Saladin is quite comfortable addressing him. A kind man, though an air of sadness hangs around him of late. Lord Saladin was quite adamant in keeping whatever happened a secret. “We were notified by Lord Radegast that you were alone. Anyone in this sector was warned and were told to confirm your safety."
Felwinter tilts his head in confusion to the sky. The Iron Lords are acting strange, as if they are afraid of losing something. They talk alone without him about some matters. It is not that unusual but he is concerned. They weren’t even that secretive with him when he broke the oath. “I see. Thank you for coming swiftly. Are things well on your end Zavala?”
Zavala looks to Ikora who seemed to be taking in Felwinter's appearance and Lord Shaxx who is kneeled at the Ahamkara’s skull. “As smooth as we could hope, rougher than it should be. Whatever is necessary to keep the City safe.”
“What wish made a crater this size?” Ikora asks before Felwinter could give a response.
All of his anger had turned to sour shame. “Not a wish.”
“Void Light I presume?” Her voice doesn’t waver much but her eyes widen a small amount.
“Yes.”
There is silence as they all turn to watch Lord Shaxx stand. “You must have given this one quite the fight! We could hear the explosion on our way here! Shook the ground better than any grenade!"
Felspring began to very helpfully collect the bones. “A miscalculation on my part, I would not have used so much Light on one adversary. A simple trick to use your body like a fuses before-"
“Like a grenade.” Lord Shaxx said.
Felwinter looked at him head on. “Yes Lord Shaxx, I turned into a grenade.” Sarcasm would have been palatable if he were human.
“Did you now, interesting…" He began to trail off.
“Not unlike what you do when your thundercrash, Titan.”
Felspring interrupts. “The Iron Lords are regrouping with Vanguard Tallulah. Doing a headcount again.”
“Thank you.” Felwinter turns away from her to Lord Shaxx.
“Best if we head together then! Do tell me, do you have room for a skull?” Lord Shaxx leans forward.
It wasn’t something he expected to be asked. He takes a few seconds to see if it is something of ill-intention. He sees no proof of it, but he will ask later on why. “If it is just the skull it would be of no issue.”
The skull was in fact larger than he had expected. It had ended up taking his seat and strapped onto his newer modded pike rather than the trailer connected to it. Doesn’t change much other than that he has to stay standing and only has a hand and a single foot for balance. Especially so when his other hand carries Radegast's banner.
The camp is large with tents set up all around all in different sizes. There are multiple campfires and banners placed about to stake claim to a collection of tents. He sends Felspring off to return the banner while he follows Lord Shaxx with the skull.
To onlookers it must look ridiculous to see Felwinter following Lord Shaxx with a skull bigger than his torso. He could have left with Zavala to find the other Iron Lords but instead he is here in the tent of a man who had ripped his spine out. All because he wants more information.
So he sets the skull down carefully and when his hands pull back he can feel it try to tug him back.
“What are your thoughts on the Ahamkara?” Lord Shaxx says from behind, sitting with his head being held up by an open palm. “You must understand the magic behind them? Or is it glory you fight them for?”
“There is no glory in this, Lord Shaxx. I thought you of all people would see that.”
“For a hypocritical bastard you are far too self aware of your own actions.” The man gestures to a chair beside him. The table is small and comical compared to the two sitting by it. One dressed in dark robes and silver armor and the other in white and light orange heavy armor. “But yes, I thought my words during the consensus were proof enough.”
Felwinter takes his helmet off and allows it to be whisked away by Felspring wherever she is. “Yes, but you are a man of action. Best to observe you then take your word for it.”
“Is that why you're here? To observe?” For any other it might have been terrifying for him to lean as close as he was. But he wouldn’t have allowed this man close to Felspring if he had any doubt he would give him a final death.
“I am here,” with a quick jab he hits a fresh wound that is between the breastplate the man wears. “To see that you aren’t being reckless with yourself.”
The Warlord hisses and grabs his wrist.
“Take it off if you won’t allow your Ghost to help you.”
His annoyance can be seen even with the horned helmet. Though it soon becomes obvious that his Ghost won’t be the one taking his armor off. Felwinter turns away completely and stands up to wait outside. Felspring laughs at him for putting himself in this situation and gets supplies.
“If you try and peek I-” his voice is muffled.
Felwinter lets out a loud huff at the acquisition. “You are not so intriguing enough to care for what's underneath that helmet."
After a few short rustling sounds a hand is gripping his shoulder from behind: through the tents cloth. “Is that so?”
He takes it as an invitation to turn around. What he sees is just a man, a hurt man with scars littering his chest. He says as much. “If an Exo can have a metal face Lord Shaxx, why can’t you?”
There is a pause before there is a booming laugh. It is bound to cause eyes to wander in this direction so he shoves the man further in the tent so he can avoid their gaze. “Sit down.” He commands the titan.
When he first tries to reach for the wound he is stopped. When he looks to Lord Shaxx the man wordlessly removes his gloves. Felwinter steps back from his reach and takes off his other one before allowing his hand to dip in the water for a towel. Gently he cleans the area before doing a clean swipe of alcohol.
The skin jumps at the action but no words were said. When a needle pierces the skin is when Lord Shaxx speaks.
“You never answered my question.” He asks without any proof that he is being stitched back together.
Black metal doesn't falter as it continues its task. “What we do is necessary, the Ahamkara are dangerous," he pulled the string to pull a bit more. “But it is not their fault for eating when hungry, it is not their fault for what wishes they grant, only what they twist.”
“Then we see the same problem but no solution.” There is that gentle tone again.
When Felwinter looks up he sees something he shouldn’t and changes the subject. “I hear Lady Efrideet threw you, is that why you are in such a mood.”
Another strong laugh came from him. Felwinter stilled his hands so as to not stab him. “Well I had asked for her hand and she-", another short laugh, "her response was to throw me out!”
That surprises Felwinter. “I see, my apologies.”
Lord Shaxx clicks his tongue at him. “Acting all proper now are we?”
“Careful, I am the one sewing you closed.”
The man has the gall to flick water on him. “You couldn't kill me if you tried, and you’ve tried.”
Felwinter hums at that. “But I did win in the end.”
“What are you on about?”
Felwinter ties the stitch and reaches for a bandage. “I got you out of your castle in the end, yes?”
“Bastard.” Shaxx said after a few moments. They both knew that he knew in the end, just never thought to confirm.
When he is done he quickly bids him farewell. Felwinter shouldn’t stay here long with Rasputin still hunting him. It is only a matter of time before he checks Venus. He does not ask about why he keeps the skull, there is no threat there.
It is Lady Efrideet that finds him first at their camp. She leans on him with the tale of how Lord Saladin had the nerve to make them fight a real dragon. With burning fire and large wings it was a tiresome battle. There is a laugh in her voice, from the thrill of surviving it and being able to retell it. His fingers work on fixing the embroidery of her once tattered and burnt cloak, an unfortunate sacrifice. Others join and tell more stories.
It felt familiar and it had hurt much more than he thought it would. To have a place here again after all that time. So he pulls away from it and excuses himself. When he knows they will continue as if nothing changed. Like before. Always like before.
Felwinter is an Iron Lord, but he isn’t an Iron Lord. Maybe he hasn’t been in a long time and it is something that is becoming more obvious. For something made to observant he is incredibly dull. With the other Iron Lords trying to inch closer to him he is seeing how far apart he is with them. Felspring reminds him of the ship, maybe they should leave. When the City is safer and when the sky no longer falls so close to his feet. Where Felspring can be safe and where they can simply live.
The sky on Venus is incredible in the way it is painted in hues beyond Earth’s, and there is nothing but wilderness for miles. All alone under the stars he circles and moves his foot forward and back, then to the side and another step and another step in directions he is forgetting. Making the world spin endlessly to his own voice with no one but Felspring to witness it: practice for what could be. He is just practicing. Nothing more.
The cold of the mountain is a warm familiarity. He is home. The safety of its towering height and the soft whispers of the wind. The Hunt still is happening but more Iron Lords are leaving it to the City.
Soon he wanders to the Library in the Temple. When he opens the heavy wooden doors he sees Lord Timur asleep on a pile of books and data pads. Before he left for the Peak he was stopped by Lord Colovance, Timur's student. He expressed his worry for him, that his obsession would kill him. There was little he could do to reassure him so instead he promised to check in on him.
Felwinter organized the table and cleaned up the spilled ink. Before he could wake Lord Timur he saw a brochure, one he had seen many many times as it belonged to Vostok Observatory. He goes to open it to where he knows there is a map.
The door opens again and it is Lady Jolder with Timur's name dying on her tongue. She greets him and seems for a moment on edge. It happens quickly enough that he is unsure if it is something he should even put a thought into. The talk is friendly and short as the sleeping man opens his eyes and looks lazily to Felwinter.
What spills from his mouth is pure nonsense that it makes Lady Jolder laugh. She then tells Felwinter that they are off to discuss something with House Devils taking over a facility. The hint is taken and he leaves them both to it.
He should have known when Lord Timur found him after. Should have known when he cashed in that dance when he least expected it. Spinning him away from the Temple for somewhere quieter. Everything was quieter. That should have been the hint to it.
It was a foolish part of himself that wanted to believe that even if he is an oath breaker. Even if he isn’t always as present, as loud…that they trust when he means he would do nothing to harm his people or the City. He can live with the stares, the threats, the uncertainty of his life if he can just continue to do right by his people. Felwinter only wanted to keep his promise.
Why? Felwinter thinks as he pushes this blasted pike as fast as it can go. Why? Why? WHY!
Why NOW? Why with this?
There was a warning from the Speaker. The man sought him out as he was doing a task the Iron Lords asked of him. Completing an electrical grid that would continue to grow with the City. Had to be strong enough to handle the weight of humanity but flexible enough to be fixed and improved. A large job that he is not alone in making.
If anything he is just offering input and searching for the proper information to reference. This is new for all of them and they need to do it right.
The silent white mask revealed nothing. Its flat planes showed nothing as he asked simple questions alluding to what he is running head first into. Asked why he was here if the Iron Lords were to do a siege of a facility.
Felwinter pried the doors open and slipped into a cold black facility bathed in red. Clouds of red act as a swarm, it attacks one at a time. Tearing through the Fallen as if they didn’t have an exoskeleton. Tore through human flesh and bone as if it were paper. Tendrils cover the walls and spread. A plague in the way he watches a familiar armor of someone he had walked by yesterday getting taken over quicker than they could scream. There was not even a moment to think about stopping it. They don’t come back, their Ghost is already gone.
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It had to have been Site 6. Why did House Devils have to find it? Why did Lord Radegast know what was in here long enough to spill it to the Speaker. Long enough to bring an army to defend it.
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Felwinter doesn’t stop running through Site 6 as screams from both Iron Lords, Iron Wolves and Fallen echo with gunshots. He warned Felspring that they won’t be getting out of this. They won’t survive this if all goes to plan. She stays and now she and their friend are in the control room. Felwinter uses the same technique that Warlocks had used to mend the metal scraps to form the wall. He encloses them in that room. Frames pour out from the walls as he moves closer to the center of the fight. Some carry SIVA on their bodies while others are completely controlled by it. A Dreg grabbed his ankle and spoke something to him. He kills them mercifully.
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Groups of Iron Lords are scattered about. Some fight SIVA head on and others fight the army it makes. Felwinter keeps each shot of his shotgun volatile so that it bursts SIVA in groups. Every bullet must count.
He sees Lord Radegast in a crowd of Lightbearers who formed a circle. Anger seeps into his very core. An erratic rational feeling that at this point of time has no place.
Felwinter blinks into the middle of it and with a grunt creates something like a Well of Radiance. All of the red nanites burn in the proximity of it and it gives him enough time to grab Lord Radegast to turn him around and punch him. There are yells coming from all around him.
Dying nanites fall like red snow around them as Felwinter is pulled back before he quickly gets out of their hold.
“Do not touch me.” He hissed sharply. “You don’t get to stand here scared of your own fucking choices when I warned all of you!”
“How are you here?” Lady Bretomart looks as though she's seen a ghost, maybe she is looking at one.
“Through the front door.” Felwinter puts a hand to heal her shoulder. The hole in her armor is not something he can fix with a touch of the Light. “We cannot leave through there anymore. This Well will not stand much longer, we need to move to the replication chamber.”
“No, you need to tell us how you are here!” Lady Perun is yelling on comms and Lord Radegast is still holding his helmet, silent.
“You’ll get your answers when we are all outside, safe.” Felwinter burns his body brighter as once this Well sizzles there will be no time to take breath. “Die if you want but do not drag them down with your stupidity of not following orders.”
Only then does Lord Radagast’s helmet move, and it was in a nod.
Felwinter knows that there is a chance that his eyes match SIVA’s even for a moment. They will question and they will ask. They won’t be getting their answers today. They will have to find it or pry it out of the corpse if they want it so bad. Their only objective now is to survive.
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When the Well drops they all burst forward.
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Felspring attempts to contact Rasputin repeatedly before finally saying that he turned his back. Sent order and left. The two put their efforts into changing the order. But if Rasputin is anything, he is thorough and direct. It will take time that they do not have.
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It is brutal watching his friends get killed and children of the light scream. No one ever knew that they could scream in such a way. He hears Ashraven’s suggestion on getting the guns online. It is smart and Lady Jolder already has a group waiting at the elevator. He asks Felspring to put them online and all they need to do is keep SIVA off of them.
Her name wasn’t always Ashraven. She changed it as it was the Iron Lords watching her take flight and soaring that created it. A nickname to a name, erasing the numbers of Tinasha-3. Or simply allowing Tinasha-3 to rest.
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It works and they reach Lady Jolder as the doors open. She is surprised to see him and he cannot help but still feel as hurt as his injured body does. In his palm is the last step of the plan. He gives it to her.
“You will use this when I say it, not a second sooner.”
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She nods and gets past the doors. Felwinter does not join them. He needs to help keep SIVA from getting down there and get who else is alive out. His armor is covered in specks of nanites. He had nearly slipped running to pick someone off the ground. The floor has puddles of blood that stick to his boots.
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Lord Timur is Ghostless when he joins the next group down. He's being held up by Lady Nirwin who can barely walk. Her Ghost is bright eyed and scared. They are packed in tight with others. He sends the group down.
There are frames and Fallen turned to weapons. They stalk, run and they certainly get back up. They all are running out of bullets. Just one more group. Last one down.
Finnala is holding her Ghost in her hand shaking on the floor as they all go down the rabbit hole.
There is a horrid noise as SIVA follows them.
“We need to run when the doors open. You all run straight and you don’t look back.”
“But-”
“You don’t look back once. I will keep it off for all of you, you're going home today.”
There are seven with him. Seven will make it out, he promises. This is something he can do. This is enough.
Tendrils grasp at the elevator crushing it down enough to slip under and burst out. He burns it all. Felwinter consumes it all, not allowing even a breath of it to pass. It is under his armor ripping and tearing at him. The Light burns as he continues and he brings a burst of Void from his body destroying all in immediate proximity to him. It is a breath, long enough for this.
His name is called and he rushes to the exit and waits right before it. He is huffing painfully, it looks like he's trying to breathe as if he is human. What an ironic thing to do before death.
The Iron Lords reach their hand out for him. His friends, his family. The very people he has dedicated his life to.
The people that have known Felwinter as he was. It all hurts and he is so very tired. Sleep sounds like a good option at the moment.
“I won’t leave her.”
He presses a code to close the door. SIVA is in hot pursuit of him.
The heavy door is slow to close and he can see as Radegast runs to him, he won’t make it. Others tried to join him or hold him back. Many more do nothing but stare at the scene as if it is happening slow enough to not even think of moving.
“It has been an honor serving humanity with you all.”
With his own Light flickering out of his body in waves unable to be trapped in his form. He looks at Lady Jolder and nods. He didn’t see her eyes when she pressed the button. The door closes and the entire facility is ignited.
Felwinter wonders what will happen to his people. Will they stay where they stand or will they move forward.
Will he be mourned or will his enemies be louder than everyone else?
Will Osiris be okay? He had just lost a dear friend, can he recover faster than his enemies grasping hands?
Rasputin. He-
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CONSUME
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ENHANCE
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It is cold, as it always is when he comes here. To this mountain. How unprepared he was when he had first arrived. The white powder crunched under his boots as only his Light was able to keep him warm. Following fate is as trustworthy as what the Iron Lords declared from their Iron Decree. Promises and no results.
It was in this very observatory that caused him to see beyond his eyes. Even as the cold swept these walls, he was always warm. What he has done in this very place will follow him for lifetimes, even as he is beginning to live away longer than he had spent being here.
“It is people that will warm your heart when you’ve closed it to yourself.”
The voice that spills no secrets always seems to resonate with the air. As if each word takes thought, its weight is worth its chance of being spoken. Felwinter would stand straight with his shoulders firm. As if all was right, that it will be right.
“You mustn’t shut the world out to be safe, Osiris. The world isn’t so cruel to seek you out for that.” He had always stood out against the snow, wearing darker colors as if he wanted to be seen. Hunted and found, killed. Osiris knows his teacher is no stranger to having adversaries. He would not have known about Felwinter if his reputation didn’t command attention.
Even he could see that it was something deeper than that.
Never did he ever think to ask. Never did he think there wouldn’t be a sliver of a chance that he wouldn’t get told. One day, the seemingly cold man could relieve himself of his chains and speak to him about his woes.
Hypocritical old fool.
A kind man who treated others better than himself. “Patience Osiris, progress is not made, it's grown”, “Not every person would disappoint you so long as you give them a chance to be seen by you”, “Sagira saw something in you, do not doubt that as you are insulting her.”
His hands grasp the messy desk as a lifeline, a tether. It was as if he was never gone. The room is organized but still messy enough to show proof that someone lived here. As if at any moment that Exo would come down that ladder and welcome Osiris. Ask him about his health before as he knows he would make a demand of whatever topic he wanted Felwinter’s opinion on.
And he would give it without question or hesitation.
But what would have happened if he’d asked Felwinter while looking at those eyes that burned like the sun, how his day was. How he was feeling? It wasn’t that he didn’t care to hear it, he knew that the man in his monotone voice would make it sound mundane as if stating a report. Did he not ask because it didn’t even cross his mind that one day he won’t get the chance to?
Self sacrificing old man.
Osiris is sure that he had read every book in this room. Slept on the couch and chairs. Meditated on the rug and stood in anticipation in front of Felwinter’s desk. How Sagira was fascinated by Felwinter whenever they saw Exo's face. How it never truly moved but his eyes would flicker and open in their intensity.
It made it easy to see how in Felwinter’s appearance he became a tale that kept others in line. But he’s seen the man know every name of his people. How they all acted so close with him. Osiris had felt Felwinter hover whenever they were somewhere risky. There was a trust that Osiris would take care of himself but if he did fail, fall, he would be caught. He doesn’t know if he could trust anyone like that again.
There should be anger. But it all just twists in his chest like an unforgiving knot. Sagira has already begun packing things away. Giving him a moment alone in this pathetic grief. It is not him that falls to his knees holding onto a trinket he drugs down with him. It is not him that lets out a soft sound from his throat. He is Vanguard Commander, Phoenix and Hero of Six Fronts. He-
He was a student of Lord Felwinter and past student of Lady Nirwen.
Osiris shouldn’t have been surprised to find arms wrapped around him. Not when he had followed Felwinter's advice. Not when he had allowed Saint to be his wall. To break himself on. Even if the man had snuck away from his duties to be there for Osiris. Osiris mourns for Felwinter for who he was and will always be, even when his life would be written in ink. He would know, he would remember.
Devotion.
Bravery.
Sacrifice.
Death.