That Wizard Came From The Moon

Being a Guardian has its perks.

Immortality. Fame. Power. Adventure. That driving, adrenalized feeling of not knowing when your last breath would come, or if your Ghost would even be able to bring you back, or to rez you, as it was more commonly known.

I was resurrected on Luna, that gray orb holding orbit above Earth. Home of the Hive, a vile and terrifying race of aliens that seemed always hungry, always wanting to grind humanity into nothing but dust, and to eat that dust.

I was rezzed on the same day that the Hero slayed Crota in his own realm. I remember waking to the shaking of the Lunar soil, hearing terrible ripping screams echo across the landscape. I hadn't known then, but I'd heard the mourning wails of the Hive. Crying out for the loss of their God's son. A monster.

I've seen the Hero. Once. They're not much more different than you or I, but there's a bit more to them. A gleam in their eyes. An unbending posture. A terrifying certainty in their stride. But this isn't quite their story.

It's mine.

My name is Al-Jestis-13. I'm an Exo and I'm a Hunter.

Exo's are a remnant of humanity's old grandeur; anatomically correct self-aware automatons. Before you ask about the functionality of my faux reproductive organs, let me change the subject.

Being a Guardian had its perks. The roaring Light within my body and my cells makes me a target, especially for the sick machinations of the Hive. Most of their rank and file would be content to maim and maul me.

But not Sarthuk, Silvered Brood. That witch had other plans for me.

Plans that I, being a foolish Guardian, fell and became trapped within.

Recording of Al-Jestis-13, during the year of King Oryx's fall.

Al-Jestis stood before the vast gray door of the entrance to the Temple of Crota. He idly remembered the stories of how many Guardians, like him, had fallen to the Hive's terrible logics and magicks.

Cinnamon Roll, his Ghost, took a brave moment to materialize from Jestis' pack and survey their surroundings. Blackish brown chitin lay on the ground, evidence of battles past. She turned her cyclopean eye on her Guardian, clearly apprehensive.

"I know that the bounty is good," She ventured softly. "But is it worth being lost to the Darkness? To the Hive?"

Beneath his helmet, Al-Jestis' features contorted in a fair approximation of a frown. The two of them had gone over this, time and time again.

"Cinna, I know you're worried, but this will be worth the trouble! We need a new warp-drive for our StarSkipper, and this would be enough to buy us two. Maybe even enough that I could ask Amanda out for a pint."

Jestis' head dipped towards his chest, briefly contemplative. Prone to brooding, Jestis would soon fall into a thoughtful and depressed silence.

Knowing where this road went, Cinna bumped into his shoulder playfully. "Hey," she chirped. "Maybe you can buy me one instead. Show a Ghost a good time, eh, Jes?"

He gave a good-natured huff. Indicating a small outcropping, he stalked over to some cover, Cinna floating silently behind him. Crouching down, he extended a hand to her.

"You can't drink, silly!" he said gently. His dexterous fingers rubbed her center sphere, right between her outer horns. He stroked her like someone would pet a cat, musingly.

It felt like liquid ecstasy to her. If she had a mouth, and saliva glands, she would've drooled.

"Uhhhhh...ehhhh...i knowww." Cinna moaned in her husky voice. Unable to think past his ministrations, she slowly lifted and hovered above his palm.

"But it's the thought that counts," She stated firmly.

Jes nodded. "Which is why I'm going to get you a new shell after this score!" He indicated her carbon-scored, slightly dinged up outer body.

Her points dropped in embarrassment. "You don't have to do that.." She mumbled.

Jes was firm. "You do nearly as much work as I do! We should split the bounty!"

"A bounty we don't have," She began. "A bounty in an incredibly dangerous-"

"A bounty that's waiting." He said, standing. She groaned, but she followed nonetheless. Of course she would follow.

She loved her Guardian. Of course, all Ghosts were supposed to be dedicated to their charges, but Cinna knew what she felt for Al-Jestis-13 was more than dedication. More than that, she wanted things that Ghosts couldn't have. Wanted to do things they couldn't do, not with the current technology in their possession.

Cinna felt the tugs of desire, and began to remember a story one of her Brothers had told her, in confidence. As she dug through her data and began to review the story, she noticed movement on the tracker.

Day-dreaming could wait until later. Desire wouldn't do her too much if it got her Guardian killed.

Down beyond the opening gate of the Temple of Crota, sat a huge Ogre, accompanied by a small coterie of ugly Acolytes. The loud huffing pants of their wet, raspy breathing was paired with the sound of their own chitin scraping against their skin.

Jes cloaked himself in a self contained invisible field. It had a very low battery life, but could be recharged often. As long as he avoided the Hive and stayed outside of their notice, he'd be golden. Even though he was cloaked, he'd heard stories about how powerful their scent of smell was.

Holding an unnecessary breath in, he skirted around the Ogre. He gave it an enormous berth, not wanting to deal with it on a good day, much less today.

The disgusting monster cocked its head to one side, slowly swinging it to another. Its massive head had purple-pink rotting flesh glowing with power that lay below the surface.

Jes froze as the Ogre took a lumbering step towards him. Its head swung from side to side, until it seemed to lock directly on him. Jes wondered if the beast could hear his mechanical heart pounding in terror.

Cinna posted a small timer onto his HUD, reminding him that he had few precious seconds left until he was exposed.

The Ogre tilted it's head upwards, as if listening to a distant song, and then stomped away, turning it's back to Jes.

No sooner than it had turned away, Jes' invisibility vanished. He took advantage of the moment and scurried off further into the Temple.

Jes and Cinna rested deep inside the temple. Five solar cycles had passed since they had first entered, and had passed without any incident.

Jes slumped back against a dark wall, resting his body. Though he was powered by the Light, it didn't seem to do much about his muscular aches. Or maybe it was this place...

Jestis' thoughts were dark and murky, like swirling tendrils of malignant mist. Was his Light being choked out, smothered by the weight of the Darkness in this deep place?

He knew he could die here and no one would ever find his body. That was alright to him. He was a warrior; death was all but a certainty.

However, Cinna was his Ghost. She might have raised him from death, but they were a team. He was no good without her. Therefore, he always felt deeply responsible for her. And now, in this dark place, deep below the Lunar surface, he began to feel uncertainty.

Fear bloomed in his belly, and his mind began to run wild with nightmarish stories told to him. Old tales the Hunters of the Tower spoke of in hushed tones. Of the things that the Hive would do. Civilians would be the easiest off. Killed, and then devoured, or devoured and subsequently killed, if they were lucky. No one ever knew what happened to those who were dragged off, screaming into the darkness, to the depths of Crota's Abyss.

Guardians were a different matter. Light was power, and the Hive could feed and breed an entire brood from a single Guardian's Light. He could only imagine being chained, tortured, having his Light slowly drained away to feed the next army that might crush Earth once and for all.

Al-Jestis shook his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts. "I'm going to try and rest," he said in a whisper. He lay onto his side, back to the wall. "Keep watch for me?"

Cinna spun in a small circle. "You know I will. Even if I do want to be held." She said in a teasing tone.

On the nights that Al-Jestis' paranoia was quelled, and his heart easy, he would lay down to sleep and Cinna would rest herself in his hands. Al-Jestis would hold her close to his body, even though he thought that she couldn't feel his body warmth. She could feel it, though.

"I'm sorry, Cinna. When we're out, I'll never let you go." He said, sleep filling his words. He was soon asleep.

"Ah, I was mostly joking anyway." She hadn't been joking.

Like a beast sniffing the wind for danger, Cinna could pick up on Jes' emotions as though they were her own. She could feel his fear, taste his stress, and she wanted to comfort him, more than anything.

Aside from his other emotions, she could also feel something new. Something that Al-Jestis himself probably wasn't aware of. Cinnamon Roll had heard of such feelings before, but only through an experience of a fellow Ghost, Arga.

This Ghost was so incredibly close to their Guardian. Enviably so. The two of them were apparently inseparable; to the point that the Guardian was more inclined to speak to other Ghosts than they were of their own kind and ilk.

Bonded and tied by a mental stream, Arga felt when his Guardian began to feel desire. Guardians might be risen dead, or in this Guardian's case, an Exo, but their bodies remembered old patterns. Addictions, preferences, desires.

Cinna couldn't imagine doing what Arga did next. Arga had gone directly to his Guardian, and confronted them about their feelings, the rising lust in the Lightbearer's loins. The Guardian had been, understandably, immensely embarrassed and had tried to pass it off as less than a problem.

Arga was incredibly insistent, however.

With a shiver of embarrassment, and maybe a bit of excitement, Cinna recalled Arga's memory.

Arga was of the opinion that his Guardian couldn't function at full efficiency if he was distracted. Not to mention that Arga practically shared his Guardian's emotions; especially when they were being broadcast at such volumes. Arga offered his help to his Guardian, who was a bit baffled at such a concept, but was incredibly curious, and consented.

Arga had soothed his Lightbearer; letting him know that if they had any problem with the Ghost's actions, to tell him and he'd stop.

Then he'd disrobed his Guardian, transmatting sleek armor and cloth off of their body. Once the Guardian was comfortable in his bunk, Arga had nestled in between their legs, resting against their flaccid synthetic flesh member.

At the cool touch of Arga's shell against their flesh, the member had quickly burgeoned into its full length. Arga had begun to vibrate, gently stimulating the faux-leathery flesh below their now-pulsing phallus.

With gentle, controlled, and precise motions, Arga spiraled up and down the Guardian's member, sending pleasure pulsing throughout their body. When a pearl of glistening pre-cum emerged from the tip of their tumescent cock, Arga increased his speed.

Within a short time, the Exo was thrusting their hips, metallic breath coming in a panting gasp.

Arga didn't stop when they came.

Pale blue Exo cum spurted out of their member, absolutely drenching the little light in hot, musky fluid. Arga had groaned with his Guardian, feeling pleasure in having fulfilled his partner's desire. Afterward, the Guardian had been deathly embarrassed, but had helped Arga clean up. Afterwards, the two of them cuddled for hours. And then the Guardian had gently slid Arga back down to their loins, lustful once more.

Arga, had been more than pleased.

When Arga had last spoken to Cinna, his Guardian apparently was searching for Vex ruins for secrets. Looking for a way to give Arga a proper body.

That sounded awfully nice to Cinna. A body. A form.

Some way to be closer to Jes. To please Jes as Arga had pleased his Guardian, but also to embrace him, to feel his touch.

So, she decided. She would confront Jestis about it, and hopefully he wouldn't be disgusted with her. He was so amazing, after all. So protective, and caring, and-

A skitter further down the tunnel roused her from her imagination.

Jestis stirred as soon as Cinna had. He was awake, she knew, but staying still so as not to give himself away.

...scratch...scratch...

thud.

Thud.

THUD.

Deeper below Luna's surface, past the breeding pits and Brood-Ships, and Hive Seeders, past the ancient tunnels filled with bones and carcasses of long-forgotten monsters, a Wizard waits.

Sarthuk of the Silvered Brood hovers above the ground, perfectly centered between five of her sisters. They swayed and twitched erratically, heads bowed in perfect concentration. Armor and chitin lay on the ground beneath them, exposing their bodies showing the glowing glyphs and powerful symbols etched into their pale gray skin.

Where the five sisters were frail and dessicated; bodies having gone to malnutrition after weeks without feeding or consuming light, Sarthuk was powerful and well-curved, the angles and soft curves of her body clearly belonging to a brood mother.

As the Five Sisters concentrated, they cast their fey magicks into the Strands of the universe, plucking at the threads of the fabric of reality. All was silent as they waited for a presence. A feeling. An opening on the other side of the energy they cast.

Idly, Sarthuk heard the restless booming thuds of her newest project; an abomination born of the grafting of flesh from the four-armed raiders onto one of her own Ogres. She remembered the days spent corrupting that young Thrall, filling it with anger and malice and hate and pain. Pushing it until it was strong enough to bring its own rage unto reality.

Thud...Thud...

a pause...

thudthudthud.

She knew that keeping Ogres was incredibly dangerous; feeding and sating their thirsts was not only downright expensive for her resources. It was also possible that the Ogre could try to break its manacles, and upon realizing its own strength, it would be quite an issue.

Sarthuk focused as suddenly, she could feel something. As if someone had opened a door at the far end of a hallway, and were listening. She felt, more than anything, the pride and anger-joy of the Sisters at their own success.

"We have toiled, and we have wrought pain. But yet still, we gain no footing. What would you have us do, O High One?"

Thud..thud..thud..

"I would have you-" the reply from the other side was cut off as the massive abomination blundered its way into the room. The Five Sisters immediately broke their concentration, seeking angles and advantage.

Rage coursed through Sarthuk's veins. Hot, burning rage. She would kill this monster for its impudence, regardless of its strength, and regardless of the time she'd spent crafting it.

The four meter tall Ogre crawled into the room, roaring as it searched for anything it could slake its bloodlust upon. It crawled like a massive insect, given strength by the two extra appendages that Sarthuk had grafted onto its flesh.

"What is that?" hissed one of her Coven.

"My project. If you wish to live, my Sisters, then prove yourselves." Saying so, Sarthuk retreated and the Five Sisters advanced. Their hands crackled with energy, fingers dancing as they began to cast spellwork.

The beast tilted its head sideways. Four orange eyes blinked from a massive, triangular head. It stumbled towards them with a lethargic, lumbering gait. The youngest of the Sisters, perhaps lulled into a false sense of security by the creature's slow pace, gracefully floated within reach of the beast. Her hands shot up, casting a cloud of poisonous smoke to hide herself in.

The monster roared, flesh sizzling on contact with the cloud. As the Sister began to cast a powerful cantrip of undoing, an enormous three-clawed hand raced forward, gripping the young Wizard around her waist. In blinding speed, it slammed her into two nearby pillars before opening its maw wide.

The Sister screamed as the beast chomped down on her torso; its two front arms holding it's food protectively close to its mouth. Sarthuk only watched. If the Sister was not strong enough to survive, then she could not be allowed to survive. Such it was. Aiat.

The monster turned away from the remaining Sisters. Completely distracted by the promise of new food; it did not notice the four elder Sisters beginning a spell of their own. They knew that they could not face the creature individually. Brute strength was for Knights and Acolytes, after all. However, they could subdue the creature if they worked as one.

The four of them quickly arranged themselves in a diamond around the beast, who was still noisily devouring their former Sister. Around them formed a prism of emerald-green fire. They slowly retreated away, and the prism descended towards the beast.

Sarthuk watched, and she was satisfied, for the strength of her Sisters was wisdom and cunning and trickery. It mattered not if she had to lose a member of her Coven if the remainder of her Sisters would learn a powerful lesson.

She raised her own hand just as the cage of power was mere feet away from the beast. It still had room to move, and Sarthuk perhaps was not yet finished with this monster. It had power, and that power could be transferred to another, perhaps. Sarthuk put the monster to sleep with a gentle nudge of her mind, and it gently slumped over.

The Four Sister turned to Sarthuk, watching her bleakly.

"Take this warrior away. Do not harm it, for it has the mind of an Acolyte, and it will remember such things."

"Yes, Mistress." Her Sisters crooned in unison.

"We are to teach, to feed, and to train it. We may have great use of its strength."

"And what strength it has, Mistress!" exclaimed Ir-Da. "It may have been damaged by our Late Sister's spell, but look how the skin knits together! It will be healed soon."

"To gaze upon its form as well!" cried An-Yut. "Such musculature! The grafts took quite well to the old flesh, and I see that all of it grows in, ah, proportion to the remainder of its mass."

The Sisters looked upon the massive and muscled form of the creature. Fully nude, they could see that there was a certain elegance to the beast, one that was not typically found in the subjects of Hive ritual. Four hugely built arms supported a torso sleek with muscle, covered in sleek light-blue skin. Below the second pair of shoulders hung a well-shaped waist. The hindlegs were digitigrade in nature, and one of them was draped over its groin, due to the way the monster reclined.

The others cackled. "An-Yut, you would consider a bulkhead a proper mate were it endowed with great proportion."

An-Yut sputtered. "It is not wrong for a Brood-Sister to want to breed, Ar-Gen. Shall I throw you in this monster's prison for entertainment?"

Ar-Gen shrank a bit at that, making herself smaller and to look less threatening. Sarthuk knew that if those two spent any more time together, their ego's would lead to their demise. Normally in Hive Culture, this was not any kind of a problem, as fighting came as naturally as any other biological function. But in these cycles, forces were in short supply, and while she could stand to sacrifice one Sister, two more in one cycle was a bit too much.

"Return the creature to its cell. I want Arcana structured around it, so that no matter what it may do, it may not step foot again outside of its enclosure. I say this and this is good. Aiat."

"Aiat." They echoed. The foursome cast another enchantment, this one to lift the creature off the floor. As they began to escort it out of the Ritual Chamber, Sarthuk paid special attention to An-Yut, who was positioned near the creature's hind quarters.