My unofficial add on to the Book of Sorrows [b][u]Chapter 1 - My Poison, My Pride[/u][/b] [b][i]Verse 1:1 - A war of love[/i][/b] https://www.bungie.net/en/Forums/Post/213621711?page=0&sort=0&showBanned=0&path=1 [b][i]Verse 1:2 - This is your charge[/i][/b] https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/213708637/0/0 [b][i]Verse 1:3 - From Court to Court[/i][/b] https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/213842051/0/0 [b][i]Verse 1:4 - Little by Little[/i][/b] https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/214141045/0/0 [b][i]Verse 1:5 - No Legacy[/i][/b] Luna, Earth's moon, has been many things to many minds. What was once a hub for scientific advancement and research became a battlefield, a place for hallowed rituals and temples, a final safe haven for the exiled, a tomb for the brave and the forgotten. Blood has been shed, Light has been drained, ether has spewed into the cold void, and the ashes of countless Hive mingled with the dust. In the hands of the humans and subjects of the Traveler it was to be a place of learning. In the claws of the Hive it was to be a Warmoon; a breeding ground for the brood of conquerors and soldiers of an exalted eternal crusade. What is Luna now though? It is nothing more than an empty place of sorrows. It is a hollowed rock filled with missed opportunities and tales of defeat. Within the confines of the Hellmouth Malok lay shattered and broken at the foot of the shrine that once flowed with captured Light, offerings to the Taken King. His body was inoperable, his frame quickly peeling away into nothingness. He could feel the offensive light of the intruders still present and near. They fired their weapons in celebration of his defeat. They danced and mocked the Prince pretending to shiver in elation as do the Taken. They were fools...followers of the Traveler. And yet they were the victors again. "How had this come to pass? How could I have been defeated?" Malok asked himself. He contemplated his failure. He looked up for the final time at the shrine that once called out to Oryx. The shrine at which innumerable Hive had offered their prayers to the Deep and their offerings of violence to their King. The Light of these invading Guardians had polluted the blight that filled the shrine and cleansed it. "To be strong willed is to welcome the inferno and blade" Malok recited to himself. "It is to declare to all that exists that you cannot be broken. Such a statement is bold. It is to invite the testing sword to yourself. Will the blade cut you? Will it be made dull in your destruction or will you prove to be stronger?" These words had been spoken long ago by Oryx himself to his court. They had been spoken to Malok. He recited them to himself before every secret attack made to his mother's court, and every assault made against the weak. Malok cast one final look of contempt upon the three bearers of Light. They were still dancing with each other. He tried to roar at them to listen to him but his voice failed him. He could only speak to himself. How could he tell them that they have been foolish students? These Guardians have been as the trying blade. They have taken all that the Hive have taught them but they do not learn well. They have stopped rituals and toppled a kingdom but they did not claim the throne. They betray the sword logic that they have used. "I have seen many rise and fall believing that they were unbreakable. I have laughed at their foolishness. Such was the fate of my uncle. He was the mighty Taken King. The greatest servant of the Deep and disciple of the worm gods. I once stood helpless to withstand the power which flowed through Oryx's being. I loved my uncle Oryx but look what has become of him! His sword was the mighty Willbreaker. Beneath its heavy blade many have surrendered their frail and pretending lives. Where is it now? In your hands. What have you done with it? Cleansed it of its hunger and made filled it with the Light of the Traveler. Where is the might of the Taken King? It is not here! Malok would have shown you. I could have claimed the mantle and made a demonstration for all of the universe. Oryx's cause was just. He desired to twin himself with death which is an inevitability to all living things. Death, their cessation and demise would be Oryx, and Oryx would be death. Xivu Arath has strived to join herself with war and mother Savathun with trickery and cunning. But what of I, Malok? Malok would twin himself with the Deep itself." His memory flashed to the Dreadnought. It was here that the Guardians first confronted him and he was forced to flee. He was looking to claim Oryx's throne even then. When Ascendant Hive were allowed to partake of the Taken power they gained strength beyond the highest reaches of conventional Hive arcana. The Warpriest's oversoul, the Occulus, was manifested in the form of a Taken blight. Golgoroth was able to spit powerful venom that pursued his foes and seek out their destruction. Oryx gained the power to Take and gained also his Shades and Echoes. Malok often saw those shadowy beings, projections of might and fury, emanate from Oryx to rend all in their path. These things were effective but Malok had thought to go one step further; to twin himself with the Taken power as no other has done. He would separate the death from the dying, yes, but no conventional oversoul would suffice. No ascendant throne space would be needed. If he could become one with the Blights, with the Darkness itself, then as long as the Taken existed so too would Malok. If the universe would not be shaped by Malok it would have to be done by another. In being taken Malok had been perfected. He had achieved completeness. No longer did his worm chew and gnaw within. For his thievery and treachery he had been blessed. Oryx had broken his will and made him to serve as a bridge between the Deep and the physical plane. Through Malok the Deep could exercise its power without restraint. He would have been the greatest instrument of destruction that the universe had ever known but now he lay defeated by the Light with no legacy to call his own. At Oryx's defeat the other Taken began to regain their senses and identities. They too desired the throne of Oryx and many would rise to claim it. Malok gathered his strength and cried out one last time into the dark. He uttered a plea to those of great age and hidden strength. He shouted a call that would reach the ears of the only ones who truly could finish the crusade against the Light with the fervor and zeal of Oryx. He called out to his gods, Xivu Arath and mother Savathun, knowing that they would answer.