[b][u]The Fall of The Ram[/u][/b] [b]A Fan-Fiction by: Mungnum[/b] I parked my stolen ship at the docks of the Tower. I rushed to the ship’s short distance teleport and beamed down to the hard cement that paved the Tower. It had been centuries since I felt the breeze of the Tower’s light, smelled the trees of it’s gardens, or watched guardians bustle through from Cryptarch to Postmaster and back again. I strolled down the stairs to the meeting room of the Vanguards. It was Ikora Rey, still alive. My head began to ache and memories came racing by my mind. It was like sparrows moving at top speed: you know each one passed, but cannot notice each detail. “Toland the Shattered… You are nothing more than a puppet of the Ram…” I watched myself give into anger. I watched as I picked her up and threw her off the balcony of the Tower. My rage, my aggression, was that of cowardice or might? [i]You showed her strength, my child. For she is no disciple.[/i] The Ram said [i]I killed her not of anger or for her impurity, my liege, but of fear.[/i] I told him [i]Then fear you shall become.[/i] The Ram said I ran out of the room and began to shake and my entire body began to feel suffocated. Tears streamed down my face, I tripped on the stairs and rolled down each stair again. [i]“Monster!” “Long live Toland the Shattered!” “You are nothing more than a puppet of The Ram!” “You want to fight?” Whatever ties you to the tower, cut it ... NEVER RETURN!!!” “Praise me… Praise me…”[/i] They all rang through my head, and I began to feel constricted by the rage they held within them. I began to cry out in terror! [i]Make it stop! Ram, make it stop!” If you dare defy my word again, your mind shall be corrupted and lost forever.[/i] He said. The pain began to stop. I began to waltz around the tower, holding my head from the pain. Suddenly, I ran into somebody. I looked up and saw a familiar face. “Sorry” he said “Toland’s the name. What’s yours?” He was Toland? Then who was I? My mind was racing, WHO AM I?!?!” “I-I-I” I told him “I don’t know.” “Well, John Smith” He said “I have to figure something out. Maybe your the man I’m looking for, do you know much about the hive?” “I would say I do.” I said “Great! Follow me!” I followed him to a secluded area of the Tower and into a room beneath the North Wing. Inside there was writings about hive and the Darkness and forbidden thoughts on it’s origin. There was a boy inside there as well, about 17 and he had a satchel full of writings. “This is Anthony Freelance” Toland explained “He’s my apprentice. But I didn’t bring you here for a meet and greet. You are here to help me decipher my problem.” He pointed to a gun on the floor. It was a pulse rifle with a skull on the end. “You see” he began to say “The gun is fit for it’s duty, but it has no soul to drive it. Do you know much about soul-bonding Mr. Smith?” “I know more about souls.” Then it occurred to me, how I could escape the Ram’s might. “I have an Idea.” I drew a circle around the gun and wrote inscriptions with sigils. “Now,” I told Toland “I need you to say one simple phrase: I PRAISE YOU.” Toland looked puzzled, but proceeded. “I praise you.” Suddenly his eyes shone white and his helmet grew horns. The horns on my helmet slithered away and The Ram had unbound with me. The eyes on the skull of the gun burst into green flames. “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE” Anthony screamed at me. I looked at him with malicious eyes. “I escaped a god.” Without the Ram burdening my minds processing power, I remembered everything. I escaped to orbit and flew my ship across the stars into the empty space to think. Today I write my story in the journal of Kabr. What of Toland? Well, his burden of the ram is a story from another day, and another day it will be told. I took me years to die, because I was given a twisted immortality until the day I came from. I flew back to the Tower once, only to catch Ikora Rey on her fall. I caught her and dropped her back off when I saw a familiar ship take course to Venus. By the time I dropped her back to the tower, my body was already dying. It started in my feet, the dusting. Each cell in my body slowly turned to dust and I faded away with the power of a thousand years. My real name is Johnathon Haven, I was born to my mother: Marie Haven. I married a girl named Kelly Haven, who died in a raid against Crota. My son Ben was killed in a fire when he was only 6. I taught warlock skills for a year or two. I even apparently wrote a book called: “The Child Ablaze” about my coping with my son’s death. In my later years I started to go out on strikes. Phogoth, The Nexus and even Sepiks Prime. Today, well… Today is the day that I di- This journal was found as evidence in the case against Toland the Shattered. Sentence ends with a pile of dust where he would write an “E”. No other information is known about Johnathon Haven, but we do know this: Sometime before his death, he sold part of his soul to the nine and forged The Ram. -Vanguard Zavala [b]The End[/b] [b]Previous Parts: Episode One:[/b]https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/125112547/0/0 [b]Episode Two:[/b] https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/125284238/0/0