Here is a small fan story I wrote for fun. Hope you enjoy it! --------------------------------------- Deep in the city a boy practices. He grows in a small house with his mother and no one else. He works from early in the morning well into the night. Every day, every hour, he is seen working. He receives very little education and he skips it when he can. The little money he makes is barely enough to keep a roof over their head. His mother has not worked or left the house in years. Alone, in this last city he works. He carries the weight of his family on his shoulder. He falls, is pushed, kicked, and he gets up and keeps on going. The Traveller, the Speaker, or the Guardians do nothing for him. They are praised for their valour. Commended for their actions. The heroes that keep everyone safe. Yet the boy hates them. He does not feel safe when he lays at night in his small hard mattress. He does not feel safe when he walks the street of the slum he lives in. He does not feel safe when he risks his life to keep his mother and himself alive. They boast of their prowess around the galaxy. Those accomplishments do not mean anything to him. Years ago, before he came into the city, his family lived in a small house in the forest. They used to hunt for food. They used to gather wood, and water to survive. A small garden with vegetables was their biggest treasure. A mother, a father, a daughter, and a boy. They lived from day to day, yet they did not complain. The forest was far from anything of interest to anyone, and so they were left in peace. He still remembers the sound of their ships. They came down from the sky. It sounded like thunder. Loud, harsh and sudden. The sky had been blue that day. Even he knew something was different. Three Skiffs, now he knows the names, Fallen within. They landed nearby, his family hid inside their home. They closed all lights and sources of power. They huddled together while their father took his gun and waited by the door. Sweat fell from his brow as he gripped the gun closer to himself. The boy wanted to cry but his older sister held him tight and he managed to hold on. The mother looked between her husband, and her children. Both precious in their own way. She gave them a hug and took the second gun. Together with her husband she would protect them until she fell. They waited. Soon the shouting came closer and closer. The Fallen calling each other. They had heard stories from people who passed. People who had left everything behind. People who were going to the city. They had heard the horrors of the darkness. Outside, the scavengers appeared in the clearing in front of the house. Their guns ready, their heads looking about. The kid looked away in fear. But nothing happened. They simply kept walking, they had come for something else. Their father and mother relaxed but kept to their watch. They all passed without looking at their small house twice. Once he was in the city the boy liked to think that they had understood their struggle. They were scavengers as well. Ruthless perhaps but they knew their kind when they saw it. That is why they had left them be. No threat, no gain either. A loss for both sides. They had kept on walking. Then in the distance he heard it. An explosion and cries. Gun shots followed. Louder than anything he had ever experienced. They rose in unison and went to the small window. Further into the forest they could see shots being fired. From the brushes a Sparrow came speeding towards them. They managed to move out of the way as the vehicle crashed into the wall of their small house. The wall fell, things spilled out, and the Sparrow broke the inside of their home. The rest had been engraved in the child memory for ever. A guarding stumbled out of the woods. He had no weapon. A fallen Dreg came after him. It raised its gun. The boy was deafened. The Dreg fell back, its gun with it while the guarding looked with his mouth wide open. A Vandal appeared then, his rifle charging. The boy could hear nothing but ringing in his ears. He turned and saw his dad shaking with a smoking gun on his hands. The next second a plasma shot was going through him as the little boy screamed and reached for his father. His mother shot the vandal on instinct, and his sister held him trying to turn him away from the scene. The guardian was still shaking in the ground. Eventually the shots fell down and two other guardians came from the woods. The boy looked at the one that came towards them. A man, but his skin was a weird colour. Behind him, a woman was helping the fallen guardian. The robes of the man were still in pristine condition, even after battle. A small wave of purple energy ran around his hands. He looked at them. In his eyes there was no warmth. He looked dismissively at their home, at the fallen man, and his family and said: -" We'll need this gun." Before taking the weapon out of the boy's father dead hands. They walked away, and said nothing else, nor did they look back. The boy could not react. His mother had fallen to her knees and was crying over the body of his father. His sister was holding him and he felt something wet on his back. He let go of her and turned to see a stake protruding from his sisters side. She was holding back tears, but they kept on rolling on her cheeks. She eventually collapse and nothing was ever the same. Now he worked for one of the smaller foundries. A foundry that did not mind using kids to get their materials. He would go into the wild, sometimes outside the walls, and gather whatever he could. He would carry the weapon her mother had used on that day and hope that he did not cross anything. Once or twice he had crossed Shanks and Dregs going about. Each time they had looked at each other, and walked away. They knew what they were. Both were scavengers trying to stay alive. At night, he would bring back whatever scrap he had found, and get a measly pay. If anyone asked, he was doing this for fun. He was getting some extra pocket change, nothing else. No one ever asked. He knew the Guardians were too busy fighting their wars to worry about people like him. His mother had not done anything since that day. He had carried them both into the City. Safety and an opportunity had been promised. He had been given neither. He had come with the hope that perhaps all would come back to normal. He had heard that Guardian could perform miracles. They did nothing for him. The only thing around were useless robots that sometimes blocked the streets because they stopped working and dirty guards asking for money for simple tasks. The city was useless. As he grew with his frustration inside him something sparked. Every time he would see Guardians going or coming back freely while they needed to pay sleazy guards to get by. Every time Guardians fought for fun in the Crucible while they fought to survive. Every time Guardians were being commended by the Speaker while no one would even give him praise for bringing a rare piece of scrap. Every time he saw these injustices something inside of him expanded. In the wild he saw it come out once, when his frustration had reached a boiling point. From within him exploded a wall of fire. A wall that nothing could cross. A wall that burnt bright and strong for a few seconds before disappearing. It had surrounded him and he felt safe and powerful inside. He looked in awe as it stood around him. After that day he had begun asking questions about the Guardians. What could they do? Could they summon a wall of fire? Could they become more powerful. He listen to every story he could. He tried to read anything he found. And in the dark of night, he would practice. Slowly his powers growing. Slowly his limits being pushed further and further. He had decided to change the City. With this new ability he could do something. He was something new. He had heard of no Guardian who could match his powers. ------------- High above the tower, the Speaker felt the light being twisted and something being born. He could feel the times changing, and the Guardians would change with them. He shivered and wondered when the Traveller would speak to him again.