First Breath

You don't have to face the second life alone

We will be here at the dawn

Being resurrected wasn't as much fun as everyone made it sound. It was coughing, Light coating their sensors, looking around wildly and reaching for a gun that may or may not still be there. Verda's fingers found the stock of their scout rifle and clutched it close, gold optics wide behind the protective cover of their helmet. "Guardian—Verda, hey. You're alright."

They knew that voice. Knew the white shell and little blue light at its center.

"Quin?"

"I'm right here." Their Ghost hovered into view. "You're safe."

Verda remembered returning to the Cosmodrome—the rusted debris field where they had first been Risen. They had needed a jump drive. There had been Fallen patrols. Then a Captain had found them.

"You died," Quin said softly. "The Captain closed the distance, and..."

"Cut me down."

Quin bobbed in a nod.

Verda shuddered. Their rifle creaked beneath their grip.

"Verda, stay with me." Quin bumped gently against the curve of their helmet. "Eyes up."

Their hands shook as they raised their head. "I died."

Concern pulsed through their Light-bond.

"And I brought you back," Quin said. "As long as I'm here, death doesn't have to be final."

"Final?"

Quin hesitated. "If a Ghost is destroyed, their Guardian can't be brought back anymore."

"Mortal."

His shell shifted uncomfortably.

"With you, I'm... immortal?"

"Long-lived, at least. Some Guardians have been around for centuries."

Centuries. The word lodged somewhere inside Verda.

"And they've fought like this? The whole time?"

"Not the whole time," Quin said. "Guardians protect humanity. We fight because we have to. For the Traveler. For the Last City."

A nervous laugh escaped Verda. "So Guardians fight and die and come back until something kills you?" The enormity of it finally settled over them.

Their rifle hit the ground. Verda curled inward as coolant rushed through them and Arc energy cracked across their knuckles.

"Verda—please." Quin knocked against their helmet despite the sting of their Light. "Eyes up, Guardian."

Damn that order. Their head lifted.

Quin floated directly in front of them. "Breathe with me."

His shell expanded. Verda inhaled. Quin contracted. They exhaled.

"Again."

So they breathed together until the Arc settled and Verda's hands stopped shaking.

"Better?"

Verda nodded. Their voice still wouldn't come. Instead, they sent something across their bond. Thank you. Relief answered.

"You're welcome." Quin drifted closer. "The first resurrection is usually the hardest. It's new. It's... a lot." Verda snorted.

"Yeah, I know." He tapped their helmet gently. "But you're okay. We're okay. And I'm always going to be here for you."

Verda raised both hands, palms upward. Quin looked at them, then cautiously lowered himself into their cupped hands.

"Like this?"

Verda nodded and lifted him toward their face. Their brow touched his optic.

"Oh," Quin said softly. "I see."

Verda sent one word across their bond. Partners.

Quin pressed gently into the touch. "Yeah. Partners."

Previous: Volatile-II · Ghost Stories · Next: The Other Side of Light