It had been two days. Shakespeare had promised himself a vacation, but couldn't help himself. He split the city up into quarters and neighborhoods and started at the north end cemetery. Of the recently dead, nothing came up. Nothing at the morgue. Nothing at the hospital. Nothing at the exo quarter. Nothing in the restaurant district. Nothing in the industrial area where ships were built. Klare had been dead silent, but he had met two other solitary ghosts who were running communications missions between the Suros foundry and one of the factions. He didn't ask much more, it was none of his business. They were brusk and in a hurry anyway. There were plenty of paired ghosts running about with their guardians. They barely had time to say hello and share info about common things. None had been as lovely as that ghost Klare. She had been so warm and friendly and he found his thoughts wandering to her and wondering how she was. She had not contacted him about going off world yet, so he knew she was still somewhere here in the city. Shakespeare spent the morning in a public library, scanning all of the newly available writings and literature that had been made available. His namesake had nothing new of course, being quite dead. Dead dead. Very dead, but it was always fun to look. A scholar had written a new treatise on Golden Age plays and theater. Will gave it a scan and enjoyed the comedies. Two of which he could easily see were based on Shakespearean archetypes. A smug self chuckle here and there peppered his reading. In his mind he imagined himself as a human in an ancient satin smoking jacket and pipe, reading leather bound books in a dark luxurious library. "Ah Will," he said to himself, "you would be a fine, fine human specimen of intellect and curiosity". No one in the library paid him mind. Looking around he felt suddenly very alone. Half the books he enjoyed were older, tattered and smelly. The fibers of the paper were degrading and he could detect what humans called "that old book smell" by it's chemical composition. He loved that smell, but feeling alone right now, that smell only reminded him that he was going to spend his days scanning and scanning and scanning. What would happen if he never found his guardian? Would he run out of memory banks and start over-writing? What would he forget? Would he become old and crotchety? Sadness infused him. The future didn't look great if he didn't find his guardian soon. Next was anger. Will slammed a book shut, deciding that his self pity was not helping him any. These arguments went over and over again in his head. Talking with other ghosts, he knew he was not alone in this. He was angry with himself for letting himself get down. He flew out of the library and started down the next street. He started scanning the people in earnest. Human. Exo. Awoken. Male. Male. Male. Female. Human. Nothing. By dark the streets were going empty and people fewer. He was tired mentally again. Not physically. Never physically, but mentally he was ready for a break. He buzzed up to the top of a roof. Looked up at the Traveller glowing by the moonlight and sighed. Streets were not completely dark. Everything had a hue, a ghostly glow. A ghostly glow. He laughed again to himself. He slowed down his thought processes, listened to the quiet. Insects began to chirp. Little night birds sing. He realized he was deep in a residential area. Light music played from cracked windows. The transports ships to the Tower slowed. Everything seemed right in the world. It was beautiful. Peaceful. Homely. Husbands and wives talked indoors, he could hear them murmuring. Couples giggled down the cobblestone streets. Children asked for stories. He could hear a baby begin to cry. It was horrid and cutting. Irritating. Grating. Like sandpaper across his optic sensor. "Ew," he said to himself. The baby was picked up but wouldn't be soothed. He hovered two houses over to look closer. Why wasn't the baby calming down? His mother sang. It hurt his ears. For the first time ever, a noise made by a human hurt his ears. "No," he gasped, worried. He dropped down to peek in the window. The baby wasn't young. It was four or five. Old enough to stop acting like a spoilt creature. It looked over through the glass at him and he locked visually with it. "No!" he again gasped. The child raised his hand towards the window. He refused to scan. Refused. It would simply be a horrible fate to have a child as a guardian. He flew away, leaving the child to cry more through the night. Shakespeare needed companionship. He needed advise. He needed someone to talk to. Who would he go to? Going through a list of ghosts available on Earth, 780 some ghosts locally, he knew none personally. He thought about the possibilities and decided to go where all ghosts go when it's an extreme emergency. The Speaker. He who speaks for the Traveller. Shakespeare floated up the steps to the Speaker, near afraid for the answer. Speaker's ghost was no where to be found, and while he knew he would feel better speaking to a ghost, he dared not ask for a private audience. The Speaker turned to him knowingly. The mask was jarring. Will felt like the Speaker could look right though him and knew all his secrets. There was a sense of shame that over came him, but he couldn't explain why. Was it embarrassment? Did he really run away from his guardian? "Shakespeare", the Speaker said warmly. "What disturbs you this late at night?" Will backed up slightly, realizing it was near midnight. "I have a question, but it can wait until tomorrow. If you like". "No, no. I am here to serve. To speak as the Traveller. I could not sleep. I knew it would be a late night. Now I know why. We must talk." A robed hand waved towards the desk, filled with crystals and tomes, rolled up scrolls and burning incense. "Would you like to settle somewhere and relax?" Shakespeare hovered close to the desk, enjoying the warm light of a desk lamp. The Speaker asked him what is on his mind. "I'm afraid I found my guardian, but I am scared to scan and know for sure." "I see," the Speaker said gently. "It's a living person. A human." "I see" he said again, softly. "And," he paused. "I'm not sure this person is ready to know they are a guardian." "Yes. I can see that is a concern. Historically we have had a few guardians found this way. They can use the light. They need guidance." "Err...this person, if she is my guardian, is going to need a lot of guidance, Speaker. She is but a tiny tot, not even in school." Will wilted. It felt good to spit it out. If he had shoulders they would have had the weight of the world off of them. "Ah. I see. I guess you have some choices to make." The Speaker turned his back to the ghost and stared at the books for a while. Silence hung between them. The Tower halls were empty. The only movement was the large planetarium above, swooping and sweeping the white ball representative of the Traveller. Will was extremely still, waiting. After what felt like forever, which was only 2.4 minutes, the figure turned to speak. "Let's think of your options. The first option is to know for sure. Scan the child. If the child is a guardian, we educate the child. Help the child develop their light. Train them to be a guardian some day. You will be their ghost. Their playmate and guardian." "Me? A guardian?" "Yes. For a while. They will look up to you. You will guide and give advise." "Oh." "Or, you can wait. Let them grow. Watch them from afar. Hold the longings you have deep inside. Face the solitude and endure." The Speaker bowed his head. "It will be a long road. A difficult road. It would be against your instincts and programming. Like the exos, you are more than just a machine. You are a part of the Traveller. You are one of millions. One point of light in a starry sky, but you know your purpose. You know your destiny, and you will have to stand fast." Shakespeare flopped on the desk and wilted even more. "I don't know if I can do it, Speaker. I don't know if I am that strong. I don't know if I even like children either. She cried, Sir. She cried and it hurt me to the core of my being. I wanted to calm her. To sooth her." The Speaker's mask looked pensive. Tilted slightly downward as if looking at the floor. Or maybe far away. There was no knowing the mysterious thoughts behind it. "You have a tough decision to make, Shakespeare. But I support you what ever you choose. You are of the Traveller. Let your light guide you." With that, he turned and picked up a scroll and started reading, ignoring the little ghost on his desk, floundering in his thoughts. Poor William looked up as if to ask another question, but the cold hard shiny mask seemed tuned out and distant. A plastic thing empty, it's owner no longer present. The speaker gathered a few things, turned and retreated down the stairs, off to what ever bed he called home. "Let my light guide me, ppppthssss." Will made some sort of deflating sound that echoed his mental and physical state. hovering up over the desk he picked himself up and looked at the planetarium and then further out to the Traveller himself and inspiration caused him to quickly speed up and jump the edge, soaring to meet the great white ball itself. https://www.bungie.net/en/Forums/Post/230149751 Pt.3 Master Link List: https://www.bungie.net/en/Forums/Post/230168273