“An enthusiast of the drink are we guardian?” Garret Cole slowly turned toward his left shoulder expecting a face to greet him with inquiring eyes. What he found caused his head to jerk backward and his hand to loosen the grip on the glass of clear liquid, which fell the short distance back to the bar miraculously remaining upright after a circular dance. Realizing how he had reacted; Garret straightened himself in his chair and resumed his calm demeanor. “What’s it to you?” Garret responded with a cold shrug as he picked up his glass and placed it to his lips, the harsh taste causing him to grimace as he knocked the shot back and slammed the empty glass face down on the surface in front of him. The creature stared towards Garret with its empty yellow eyes. Garret attempted to find a point on the hooded figures face to anchor his sightline but gave up after finding nothing but darkness. He instead averted his gaze toward the bar as the cloaked figure took the seat one chair over to the left. “You must have been resurrected recently, Guardian” said the cloaked man. “This is Xur.” a somewhat robotic voice called out. The voice made Garret inhale sharply pulling his head back. He was still not used to the idea of something constantly speaking to him as if it were in his head. Just as Garret sighed heavily releasing the breath he had held for the fraction of a second, a small robotic orb materialized in front of him. “Ghost” it had called itself. “He’s a trader from a different realm” the ghost stated as it expanded its body outward only to contract again soon after, “he frequents the tower but I’ve never actually seem him strike up a conversation with anyone before.” “Yes, this Guardian is different from most, is he not?” Xur directed his inquiry at the ghost still hovering just above the glass Garret had left on the bar. Before his ghost could respond Garret spit back with sharp words, “I don’t know who you think I am, but there’s nothing you know about me.” Pushing himself up from his seat, Garret spun around and began to trudge through the crowd of Guardians and traders that had conjugated in the bar. The low but distinctive voice rang out behind Garret from under Xur’s hood, “Come find me when you’re ready, guardian. I have something that may interest you.”
Garret scoffed as he barged through the doors and out into the wide open room that doubled as the hanger bay for the entire tower. As he walked through the bay towards the narrow passage that led out to the central hub, the guardian could feel the eyes of many follow him through the room. The leader of the Dead Orbit faction, adorned in his white and black attire, seemed to have a special interest in Garret; tracking the man all the way through the room while ignoring his colleagues that were huddled around him. Garret could tell that his presence had interrupted the conversation that the group had been having. This made him even angrier. “Ever since I landed in this Goddamn tower four days ago, everyone’s been treating me like some kind of an outsider.” He thought to himself. “I need to get the hell out of here before I lose my goddamn mind.” The Guardian swiftly made his way through the narrow hallway leading out to the common grounds, and without stopping continued toward the other side of the plaza. Open to the elements the moonlight lit the ground just enough for garret to read an inscription as he walked by. It read “ATRIVM PROPVGNATORVM”. Garret payed the foreign letters no mind as he passed by. Although it was late Garret expected he would find the speaker in his domain, still scouring through what looked to be research as garret recalled. After walking through another passageway into the structure, the guardian emerged in a common room that was mostly empty except for the few robots that stood like guards around the area, staring blankly ahead without much acknowledgment of Garret’s presence; something he had grown to miss since the day he arrived in the tower. Barging into the speaker’s atrium Garret took a quick glance around the room noticing the large spinning mechanical contraption in the center. Up a short flight of stairs to the left the speaker was standing over his notes. “Guardian?” the speaker said without looking up from his desk, “to what do I owe the pleasure?” “I want to leave this place. You need to let me go.” Garret blurted out angrily. The speaker looking down at Garret from his perch now, still fully garbed including a white mask that covered his face, calmly spoke in short direct statements, “You are not prisoner here. This is your home, guardian. You are free to leave at any time.” “This isn’t my home!” Garret responded harshly only to leave his words echoing around the room. “My home is out there.” He stated pointing toward the large curved glass window at the front of the room. The speaker turned his gaze back down at his desk and showing no emotion or change in tone directly stated, “Whatever home you once had is gone. The last place of civilization is located below this tower. This is the place that it is your duty to protect. I think it best you take a visit to the city to see where exactly your duties lie. If you choose to stay down there and live out the rest of your life amongst the civilians, I will not hold you to your obligations as a guardian.” The speaker seemed so sure of the choice Garret would make. Without another word Garret turned around to leave. As he did the speaker looked up once more and in a hushed voice stated, “Your ghost chose you for a reason Guardian, I think you would do well to remember that.” “He’s right I did.” The small voice came into garrets hearing too low for the speaker to hear.
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