She awoke with a start and only met pain, thumping against her head and behind her eyes. Her body rattled with each shaky breath which she thought would be her last breath. Yet, she wasn’t dead. She survived the fall somehow, how high was it? She attempted to lift her head and was surprised to see rumble in front of her very eyes. Her helmet visor had shattered and the glass was scattered on the ground and in her helmet. With trembling hands, she pushed the helmet up and tossed it to the side. Although she couldn’t see, she felt blood trickle down her face. Dull teal eyes peered over the landscape shrouded in jagged shapes and ash. It was awfully silent, no roars of the Cabal, no gunfire, not even pained screams. Just overwhelming, heavy, and deafening silence.
Her arms buckled weakly as she tried to lift herself up and her legs trembled. What happened to her strength? The strength beyond her physical bounds, what happened to her light? The absence of her power left her feeling drained and brittle, sitting up right cost her so much energy but she needed to see. She need to see any form of life or motion. Nothing still.
“Far… Farren… Farren? Are you there?” She called out to her ghost with a broken voice.
Her eyes widen, breathing hitched, and tear streaked down her bloody cheeks. The absence of her ghost made her all the more terrified and alone. Then the memory flashed in her mind, the massive Cabal commander Ghaul had smacked and kicked her towards the edge of his ship. She desperately held onto Farren’s limp form in her hand but had dropped him, unable to stabilize herself after another hit by Ghaul. She remembered the fall. Ships, fire, and the Traveler rushed past her and then everything went black.
She found a shred of metal to lean against, once she was standing up right she took the opportunity to check over herself. Nothing had pierced her but she could feel something was wrong. Each breath felt agonizingly painful, the result of a few broken ribs most likely. Her blue skin was cut, bruised, and sliced from the visor glass. Although her body begged to crawl up and rest more she had to leave. The city was no longer safe and it made the wilds outside beyond the crumbled walls all the more appealing. She looked down again and realized her robes were tattered and her left arm was no longer illuminated by her bond. With no light, her symbol of wisdom and strength was gone. Another anchor of comfort stripped of her.
The first few steps were the most difficult, her body swayed dangerously and threatened to send her back into the rumble and ash. Her hands weakly grasped fallen walls, vehicles, structures, and the bodies of other Guardians. Her hands kept her walking despite her aching desire to grieve the fallen Guardians and civilians. Her eyes scanned the ground instinctually to find a weapon only to find crushed hand canons, busted machine guns, and shattered swords. She yelped in pain as she reached for a broken sword, although the length was in pieces the hilt still had enough to defend herself. As she straightened her breathing became raspy gasps. Whatever injury she acquired had grown into a large problem.
Where would she go? With no ship and sparrow, she would have to limp her way to safety. The Plaguelands? Plenty of her backup supplies are there but it was too far. Cosmodrome? Too bare. Felwinter’s Peak? She wouldn’t survive the climb and the cold. All that remained was the European Dead Zone. No one had ever gone there, only Tower outcasts and explorers. But it was her only chance of getting help. As she stumbled towards the eastern wall she finally heard, growls and roars. She crawled under a crashed falcon ship and looked into the smoke, Cabal. The wall was not too far away but about four fire teams of Cabal were on a patrol. There was no chance of fighting them but patience was on her side. She had to wait it out as agonizing as it was to lay on her belly and watch the heavy feet march down the street. The smoke and fire was also on her side, giving her enough cover to vanish out of sight. Her window of opportunity came but caused her body more pain but she knew that time was of the essence. She trotted between buildings, ignoring the pain, and continued to the wall.
She had intended to stop and rest but she continued with gritted teeth. Adrenaline fueled and pushed her into a light and struggling jog. She had no idea how long she ran but she was relieved to have made it to the tree line of the forest. She continued to stumble further and eventually stopped, huddled against a tree. Her breathing was erratic, harsh, and she wheezed desperately to catch a breath. Finally, finally… Safe… Safer… What now? Where to? Her mind recalled the shard. Yes, the shard. The shard that was documented. The shard the Speaker rambled about. The shard of the Traveler. Perhaps she could reclaim some power, some strength, reconnect to her ghost Farren. Hope filled her chest and for the briefest moment, she weakly smiled.
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