Doom of the Dragons, Part Twenty-Five: Deliberations

[spoiler]Greetings, Guardians, and here's part twenty-four of Doom of the Dragons! Here's [url=https://www.bungie.net/en/Forums/Post/242504206?page=0&sort=0&showBanned=0&path=1]part twenty-four[/url] if you missed it! As usual, if you like it, give it a bump, and I'll get more out soon! Stay classy, Guardians![/spoiler] Cupun trekked through the forest, with no real destination in mind. Suddenly, he became aware that his ghost was talking to him. “Cupun!” he said. “Cupun, talk to me!” “What?” Cupun said at last. “What the hell was that?” his ghost asked. “You killed a Guardian - for absolutely no reason!” “I had every reason,” Cupun growled. “That arrogant bastard didn’t deserve to be a Guardian.” “That wasn’t your decision to make!” his ghost protested. “Too bad,” Cupun retorted. “I made it anyways.” His ghost was silent for a moment. “The City won’t take this lying down,” he said. “You need to go back before they decide to hunt us down like dogs.” “So they can what?” Cupun asked. “Put me in a cage? Execute me?” he snorted. “I don’t think so.” “So they can help you,” his ghost said. Cupun stopped walking. “Excuse me?” “Whatever that Ahamkara did to you, it’s making you behave irrationally,” he said. “You need to get help, before it destroys you completely.” Cupun resumed walking. He’d changed since his visit with the Ahamkara, but he was still the same man he’d always been. Or was he? The thought was distinctly unsettling. Was there something else at work here? Had he been. . . corrupted? Suddenly, the voice-not-a-voice in his head returned. Your decisions are your own, it said. You have nothing to be ashamed of. Do not listen to this pestilent speck. You always have, and always will be, be your own man. The voice washed over his thoughts like a warm current, drowning out his doubts and soothing his fears. “I’m fine,” Cupun said. “I don’t need anyone’s help. Not the City’s, not the Speaker’s, and not yours!” His ghost was evidently caught off guard by that last remark. “What do you mean by that?” “I mean I don’t need you telling me what to do!” Cupun snorted. “If you don’t want Spectrum on your conscience, fine. Go back to the City. I won’t stop you.” His ghost was again silent. Then, he spoke again. “When I resurrected you, you were no more than bones,” he said. “But I saw something in you - a burning righteousness, a fundamentally good spirit. The remnants of the man that you had been. Those embers had survived the Collapse, and lingered in a cave for centuries. But now -“ he paused. “What?” Cupun asked. “Now, I fear that the man who left those embers is truly dead.” Cupun was silent. “I said it before,” he said at last. “If you don’t want me on your conscience, then you can leave. * * * “What in the Hell happened?” “We need to organize a search party, immediately!” “The traitor needs to die!” Marcella winced at the cacophony of voices. They’d come forward about Spectrum’s death, and had been summoned before the Consensus almost immediately. Guardians killing guardians - it wasn’t something that had been witnessed since the days of the warlords! As such, this particular meeting had attracted quite the crowd. Finally, the Speaker banged his gavel, and the mob quieted. The Speaker looked around, his eyes hidden behind his white mask. “Peace,” he said, in a calm, measured voice. “To say that this troubling. . . is a severe understatement. Therefore, we must get to the bottom of the matter immediately.” He looked down at Marcella from his podium, and she could practically feel him staring at her. “Tell us what happened, Huntress,” he said. Marcella looked up at him, and took a deep breath. “Last night, Cupun met Spectrum at a bar,” she said. “Cupun challenged him to a duel.” “May I ask what brought about this challenge?” asked Lysander, sitting beneath a green and blue banner. His face was unreadable. It showed neither pity nor anger. But a fierce intelligence lay beneath his eyes. Marcella nodded. “He overheard Spectrum telling an . . . untruthful . . . story. One that painted him as a hero, and Cupun as a coward.” “So this whole situation was brought about by a grudge match,” Arach Henri snorted. “Continue.” Marcella licked her lips. “We were watching the fight from a drone-mounted camera,” she said. “Cupun won, and he beat Spectrum. But then. . .” Marcella couldn’t finish the sentence. “He killed Spectrum’s ghost as well,” the Speaker finished. Marcella nodded grimly. “I see.” The Speaker shifted in his seat. “We will try and recover any footage that we can from this ‘drone,’ but before we do, I would like to ask you one more question: is there any possibility, no matter how remote, that this was some kind of freak accident?” Marcella paused. She’d spent the past several hours trying to rationalize what she’d seen. She had looked at it from every angle, trying to decide how the man she’d known and loved could have done something so horrible. She’d tried to think of a reason, any reason, that could possibly explain what she’d seen out there. But she couldn’t. “No,” she said, looking down at the ground. “No there isn’t.” If the Speaker was upset by the statement, he didn’t show it. He simply leaned back in his chair. “Very well,” he said. “I think it is quite apparent what has to happen next.” “I agree,” Saint-14 said. “He must be stopped. Before he hurts anyone else.” “We must get a search party together,” Lysander said. “We have to hunt him down and kill him.” [url=https://www.bungie.net/en/Groups/Post?groupId=1371758&postId=242731295&sort=0&page=0]Doom of the Dragons, Part Twenty-Six: Decision[/url]