Light Within

The Tower Annex was a dark and rather disused area that had largely been closed off for renovations. There were several shops here, but they seemed to have been closed a long time ago, their signboards unlit and their shutters down. A cool breeze blew through, from the opening that led to the landing pad outside. It was desolate, too, without any civilians or Guardians at all.

As she went further downwards, Corrin began to get the distinct feeling she wasn't alone however. She gripped the pendant around her neck, taking comfort in it's presence.

"Uh, hello?" She called uncertainty. "Grey? Anyone?"

Perhaps she should've stayed where Grey had left her, at least there she wouldn't have been all alone. She doubted those monsters would be lurking in an area inhabited by guardians and civilians, but the eerie silence was making her a little nervous.

"Maybe I ought to go back..." she chuckled a little nervously to quell her nerves. Going from the hustle and bustle to dead silence was more unnerving than anything, so when Corrin heard footsteps approaching her attention snapped to the direction they came from.

A pair of Guardians suddenly rounded a corner, Hunters from their flowing cloaks. They didn't exactly look like the most trustworthy type, both being dressed in dark leathers. One had a large knife strapped to his chest, while the other seemed to be wearing a cloak that was torn at the edge. They were having a conversation with each other, complaining about 'losing fifteen Motes' to a 'damn Jötunn Invader'.

They stopped talking once they noticed Corrin, and turned to grin at her.

The princess froze, unsure of what to expect. No one else had been hostile to her presence, but in a place like this one couldn't be too careful. The two sides stood where they were, neither one moving nor making a sound.

Then the one with the knife pointed to her cape. "Nice cape," he complimented, nodding approvingly. "I like the blue."

Corrin blinked. "Uh… thanks?"

The two Hunters continued on their way. "Keep going at it, kid," the one with the torn cloak told her, patting her on the shoulder as he passed. The two then began to climb the stairs, switching to a conversation about an exit strategy and something about spare rations.

Once they were out of view, Corrin promptly let out the breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding. Niles and Shura would both fit right in with this crowd. Still, at least neither Hunter caused her any grief at all.

The high-pitched ring of metal being tossed up ahead caught her attention. It seemed like it was coming from a room at the very bottom. She descended further downwards, turning into the room. She immediately stopped in her tracks at the sight before her.

Inside was what seemed to be a swirling mass of black and white contained within a cylindrical machine, illuminating the room and casting shadows on the walls.

"What is this?" She wondered out loud, overtaken by curiosity. She stepped towards the machine, and almost didn't notice the figure casually leaning on the railings in front of it and idly tossing a jade coin up and down.

The figure tossed his coin into the air one more time, before it disappeared into his palm once he caught it. "Well, well, well, who do we have here?" He asked, pushing himself off the railing. "You ain't a Guardian, are ya, kid? Ain't no civvie comes down here, either. So, you lost?"

The princess was snapped out of her thoughts by his voice, and she turned to him. The man's face was marked with scars, and his beard was scruffy and wild. A dark bandanna kept his dark black hair back, and it seemed to be just as unwashed as his beard. A hand cannon was stuffed into his belt, while a rifle was tucked on his back. He was a scruffy looking man, but Corrin sensed no ill will from him.

"I am a… traveler," Corrin replied, but realised a second later she might've chosen her words poorly. "I… I mean I'm not from around here. I'm… misplaced?" She scratched at her head, trying to come up with a better description. "Yes… uh, misplaced."

The man simply gave Corrin a knowing grin, one that held many secrets that few knew. "I'm sure you are!" He said simply. "Don't need to be one of them Warlocks to tell that you're lost. Not lost, but lost."

Corrin gave him an odd look. He seemed to know a lot more than he was letting on. "But I'm not entirely lost!" She exclaimed a little nervously. "If I go back up I should be able to find where Grey left me. He up and vanished. Until he comes back I have nowhere to be."

"Grey, huh?" The man asked, smiling at some memory he found funny. "You know, he comes 'round here real often. Always bets a ton. This kinda thing suits him real good, ya know?"

"He does?" Oddly enough, Corrin could easily picture the hunter seated at a table, surrounded by like minded gamblers. He didn't seem like much of a people person, but neither had Niles when she'd first met him. Grey was far less… dramatic than Niles, thankfully.

"Oh, he does, alright," the man gave her another grin.

Deciding to drop the topic for now, Corrin made her way over to the odd machine. "What is this?" She asked, reaching out to the glass.

The man was on her immediately. "Whoa there, I wouldn't touch that if I were you," he said, grabbing her arm before she could touch the device. "Don't want any Taken Primevals poppin' up now, do we?"

He let her go, then looked at the machine proudly. Tendrils of dark swirled around a column of light at the very bottom, intertwining in the middle, before seeming to merge as one at the top. "This here's a little invention of mine. A bank, for storing Motes of Dark. Set 'em up during games for Guardians to cash in their Motes, train 'em up for the Second Collapse to fight the Darkness."

Corrin stepped back from the mechanism at his words, confusion flashing across her face. "Motes of Dark? I'm afraid that only brings up more questions. Is it some form of currency?"

If that was the case, then why was it so dangerous? And what were these Taken he'd mentioned. For every question she asked six more seemed to appear. It was a little dizzing, but she couldn't allow herself to become overwhelmed.

The man chuckled at that. "In a way," he said simply. "Now, you," he turned to her and pointed a finger. "You ain't from around here, that's obvious. Something else, though. You've got a whole lotta of Light in ya, that I can tell, even if you don't."

At that, Corrin stepped back, surprised. "I uh… possess Light?" She looked down to her hands, excitement lighting up her features. "How do you know?"

The man kept his grin, and leaned back. "What? Old Drifter here knows lots of things, you know? I've been around long enough to know both the Light and Dark. Now, you may not know what any of 'em are, but trust me, I've gotta feeling you will soon enough."

"Could this Light aid me in getting home?" Corrin asked, hopeful. "Grey stated Guardians were the ones who could effectively harness this… Light."

"The Light works in strange ways, kid," the Drifter told her. "I'm sure getting you home is one of 'em, and I'm sure you'll find out what else you can do. You've got a long way home ahead of ya, kid, not just a long way home."

His somber words quelled some of Corrin's excitement. She had suspected as much, stranded in a foregin world, with no clue as to how to get back home. Everything hinged on Grey's friend being able to point them in the right direction. Corrin didn't know what would happen if Val couldn't help them.

Still, she wouldn't allow herself to be discouraged. She stood a bit straighter.

"I am no stranger to long roads. Whatever twists and turns may come, I shall face them head on," a small smile came to her face. "I am a princess of Nohr, it wouldn't do for me to do anything less."

The Drifter leaned back, letting out a chuckle at her proclamation. Always so optimistic, like any new Guardian coming to the Tower and seeing the City for the first time, feeling invincible with the powers they had. "Sure you are, kid, sure you are," he said, folding his arms. "Shame you ain't a Guardian, though. I'm sure Gambit would've suited you real good."

He shook his head. "Well then, why don't you head back up? I'm sure Grey's lookin' for you, and you don't wanna keep him waiting, do you? As for me, well, I've got work to do," he waved her away dismissively. "Oh, and by the way, mind askin' Grey how's he livin' for me?"

Corrin offered the man a slight bow. "Thank you for your words. Perhaps we can chat again sometime," She smiled before turning to head back the way she'd come.

And promptly walked straight into another person heading down.

"Oh, pardon me!" She cried, taking a step back to look at whoever she had bumped into.

It was another Hunter, given by his flowing dark grey cloak. In fact, his entire outfit was grey, and notably, he seemed to share the same shoulder armour as Grey (perhaps they knew each other?). A bow was slung around his back, and his right thigh seemed to hold a pouch with several arrows sticking out of it. He seemed to be silently staring at her from beneath the skull-like visage of his Jackknife 3.2 helmet, its eye-holes glowing an evil red.

"Uh… hello?" The princess asked, getting a little nervous from his silent gaze. The Hunter said nothing for another long moment, and they stood across each other for a while longer.

Corrin opened her mouth to try again, but the Hunter acted first, giving a slight tilt of his head and then stepping aside, making his way over to the Drifter.

Once he had gone, Corrin sighed. She'd have to pay more attention, less she ran into a guardian with a less agreeable temperament. She climbed the stairs, making her way back to where Grey had left her.

The sun had set past the horizon by the time she left the Annex, and it was even colder than before. Her breath came out in small white puffs as she walked. It was nowhere near as cold as her trek through Ice Tribe territory, but she still wrapped her cape around her shoulders for some extra warmth. It didn't help that the other civilians were all dressed in warm clothing, and the Guardians wandering about didn't really seem to have to worry about the cold.

Still, the darkness made the glow from the City lights all the more prominent, especially the waving spotlights that illuminated the skyscrapers in the heart of the City. From her position at the top of the wall, Corrin could also see that it was also obvious that there were massive craters in the middle of clustered buildings, mostly near the walls. It seemed as if entire city blocks—no—entire districts had been wiped off the map in an instant.

It was likely from the Red War Grey had mentioned. Yet she saw that the City was rapidly recovering and ever lively.

She looked around her, seeing more Guardians about as well. A Hunter was having a discussion with his Ghost over the most efficient sniper rifle to use against enemies, while a Titan was offering a Warlock a bouquet of roses, forged from bullets, of course.

They all seemed so natural, and human, and it was very peaceful now up here over a thousand feet above the ground. Everything seemed much smaller from up here, too.

It was also that moment that Grey had decided to reappear, walking down the path and waving to Corrin. "Well, I'm back," he said. "Didn't get into any trouble, did you?"

Corrin sighed in relief. Being alone in this foreign place was daunting and Grey was her only real ally, though she hoped that would change soon. "I met a strange scruffy man, who seemed to know you. We talked for a bit. But no, no trouble to be found," She chuckled. "Which is odd, sometimes it feels like I can't take two steps back home without stumbling into some sort of trouble."

The Hunter gave a slight grunt at her mention of the man in the Annex. "You've met the Drifter, then," he said, folding his arms. "He runs Gambit. Pretty sure it's rigged, though. Haven't won a game in months. Oh, and, you hungry?"

His suggestion for food reminded the princess she hadn't actually eaten much that day. She'd snuck a quick bite before the meeting with the farmers but hadn't gotten lunch in light of being transported here.

Her stomach voiced its discontent with a loud growl, and her cheeks flushed red as a laugh escaped her. "Of course I am, coming here sorta ruined my lunch plans."

"Come on, then," he told her, making his way towards an elevator. It had the intricate crest of the City engraved onto the doors: a shield with the sigils of each of the three Guardian classes, along with an empty space that only consisted of uniform lines. Grey pushed the button to call the elevator, and the doors opened a second later. "There's a cafeteria over at the western section of the wall, and I've got an apartment there."

Grey stepped inside, and after a moment of hesitation, Corrin followed. Thankfully, this one was a far cry from the deliect rig that contained skeletal remains, and was quick and smooth.

A few seconds later, the doors opened again, to an enclosed and well-lit space. They were inside the wall now, and the area had a rather high ceiling.

A Sparrow suddenly streaked past, followed by another, and then another. As the two stepped out of the elevator, it was clear that this area was a road, stretching across the entire wall. Guardians on their Sparrows rode past to different areas of the wall, while civilian vehicles carried supplies and inactive Frames. There were several windows on either side, one that faced the glow of the City, and the other that faced the dark spareness of the surrounding mountains.

Grey called the Bronco, the vehicle appearing from beneath him as it had earlier. "Get on," he told Corrin, and soon, they were off, joining the traffic. "The walls surround the entire City, and so does this road. Need some way to get around, and walking just ain't fast enough."

"This world continues to surprise.. and terrify," Corrin chuckled as she settled on the back of the Sparrow, holding onto the hunter rather tightly as they rocketed off, joining the flow of traffic.

The Hunter cracked a grin at that. "Kid, if you think Earth is terrifying, wait 'till you see the rest of the system."

Corrin gave him a rather incredulous look. "The rest of the system? Meaning..."

"Yep," Grey nodded, leaving her to dwell on that.

The concept of life beyond this world was something she'd never considered. But perhaps it shouldn't have been surprising, given it was becoming increasingly obvious that this world and her home were vastly different.

Two parallel realms eons apart. If such a thing could exist then life beyond this world shouldn't have been shocking.

"What sort of life is out there?" She asked. "Surely it can't all be horrific like those creatures from before?"

Grey didn't turn, but Corrin's expression turned into one of horror and dread at his response. "No. Worse. Much worse."

Eventually, Grey stopped by another elevator once he'd been driving for a few minutes. He disembarked, the Sparrow disappearing once the two were off. He called the elevator, and the two rode up, and the doors opened to reveal a large room.

There were numerous tables and chairs, all arranged in neat rows, while counters at the side with 99-40 Frames behind them served hot food. The area was relatively crowded, though most of those eating were civilians, with only a small number of Guardians, all of which were wearing full armour.

"Well, here we are," Grey told Corrin. "West Cafeteria, haven't come by in months. Serves food that's slightly more edible than the others."

He cocked his head towards a stacked pile of trays. "Grab a tray and head over to the counter. Oliver there will serve you. I'd go for the stew if I were you, probably the only thing here that has any actual meat in it."

Corrin's stomach growled as the smell of food greeted her, but she hesitated a little to grab a tray. "I don't have any kind of money ,are you sure it's alright?"

"Guardians eat free here," Grey shrugged. "And anyone we bring with us. I'd hardly pay any Glimmer for the food anyway," He said and motioned her forwards.

Still a little unsure, Corrin grabbed a tray and headed over to the counters. The Frame behind it turned to her and regarded her with the two glowing optics on either side of its head. It was wearing a simple maroon apron on the upper half of its body with a simple symbol consisting of a crossed fork and knife within a circular plate.

"Ah, a new face," it spoke. "My name is Oliver 99-40. Are you visiting?"

"She's with me," said Grey, stepping up and answering for her.

"Oh, hello, Grey," the Frame greeted the Hunter. "I haven't seen you in a while. Are you eating here too?"

The Hunter shook his head. "Nah, you know I'd rather be crushed by a drop pod than eat here," he turned to Corrin next. "I'll get a table."

Oliver watched Grey leave to do what he said. "I wish I could eat..." He muttered a little sadly, before turning back to Corrin. "Anyway, what can I get you?"

Corrin glanced down to the food. She couldn't really blame Grey for not eating here. The food was rather drab looking, mainly vegetable dishes and different types of stew. Perhaps she'd been spoiled by hand prepared meals fresh from the palace kitchen, but she couldn't help but find the offerings lackluster. Still better than going hungry, she supposed.

"I've never tried any of this before… so, maybe a little of everything? If that's alright, of course," She held up her plate, her smile never wavering.

Oliver nodded, beginning to scoop up some food from the warming trays. "A little bit of this, and a little bit of that. Here you go."

The princess glanced down at her plate. It had some salad, a bit of dark rye bread, a small apple, and of course, the stew.

She didn't think it was possible for this food to look any less appetising. Yet here she was, with a tray full of blandness that could make a grown man cry. It reminded her of the army rations she and many others had relied on in between battles. "Uh, thank you Oliver," Corrin nodded to the frame before joining Grey at the table.

The Hunter was seated at a table, away from the rest of the crowd. He was holding a bottle of beer. "You'll have to forgive the food 'round here," he told her once she took a seat across him.

"There's no need to apologise," Corrin chuckled, picking up her fork and taking a tentative bite out of some salad. "It's not the worst food I've eaten."

That honour went to anything Felicia cooked. The maid tried her best, but she was a disaster in the kitchen. Well, she was sort of a disaster anywhere, but her endearing spirit and can do attitude made it hard to fault her.

Grey shrugged. "Ain't enough space in the City for livestock, so meat here comes at a premium. Vegetables though? Lots of space for that," he gestured out the window. They were distant, but the City lights illuminated buildings that seemed to have walls of greenery growing on their sides. "Vertical hydroponics don't take as much space, and can grow just about anywhere."

He pulled out his knife, tossing it into the air and catching it by the hilt. Then he popped off the cap of his beer with its hooked edge, and took a sip. "So," he began, placing the bottle on the table. "What's this... Kingdom of Nohr place like?"

Corrin's smile dipped as she thought of the friends she'd left behind.

"Ah well, it's a… it's a resilient and proud kingdom. Full of strong, dutiful warriors and hard working people. My eldest brother Xander just recently took the throne following the..." she glanced at her plate, pushing around the food there for a moment before picking up another bite. "The death of our father, King Garon. He was… once a kind man, but in the end he was twisted beyond recognition by some force beyond our walls. He led the kingdom into war against Hoshido, the kingdom neighboring Nohr."

He also orchestrated her kidnap from Hoshido, and raised her in secret in Nohr. But that was a lot to dump on someone over a meal.

"But with Xander on the throne the kingdom has known peace, and relationships with Hoshido have greatly improved," Corrin continued. "There were… many lives lost on both sides, but both kingdoms are on a path to peace."

"Hmm..." Grey hummed in thought, swishing the half-empty beer around. The mention of Corrin's father, this Garon, getting twisted and evil piqued his interest. It sounded very familiar, just as how Uldren had been twisted by the Darkness into releasing Riven from her prison. Was Garon too twisted by the Darkness? That was quite worrying.

"You think Garon got corrupted by the Darkness?" Saratoga asked in his head. "Sounds mighty similar."

'Who knows? Corrin here ain't even from the same reality as us. We don't even know if the Darkness even exists where she's from.' Grey replied, looking off to the side.

"What else would it be, then? She mentioned magic, but she doesn't even know what Light even is."

'We still got a hell lotta mystery to solve,' the Hunter shrugged. 'I think now's much too early for this kinda thing.'

"Too early?" The Ghost asked, annoyed. "Grey, we saw her turn into a damn dragon back in Chicago. I think we've got more questions than that."

Grey only shrugged again at that. 'Yeah? Well, I think this is still a lot to take in for one day. I'm thinking she get some sleep, we get some drinks, and we'll go ahead and discuss everything with Val tomorrow.'

The Hunter turned back to Corrin, after taking another sip of his beer. Another thought crossed his mind. "So, if your father was king, I guess that makes you princess, huh?" He asked.

Corrin nodded. "Yes, I am the second youngest princess and sibling in my family. The throne has never interested me, but it is my duty and honor to protect my homeland. We all fought in the conflict against Hoshido, and we all took down Garon together."

She took a bite out of the stew. It seemed to have some actual meat in it, which made it slightly more tolerable, though she couldn't really tell what kind of meat was in there. "You mentioned there's no room for livestock in the City, so where do you get the meat from?

"The title Hunter ain't just for show, you know," Grey told her. "We Hunters go out to the wilds and hunt for meat. Bring 'em back, the City gets fed, and we get paid. It's where we belong, anyway."

Corrin nodded, taking another bite. "So… what exactly am I eating? Back home we have a variety of domesticated animals that feed our people."

The Hunter shrugged as he watched Corrin stir her stew. "Honestly, I have no idea. There's probably a few dozen different animals in there," he said, taking a sip of his drink. "It's been that way for years. I mean, it was there when I first came to the City years ago when I became a Guardian. I wouldn't be surprised if that's the same stew. No idea how old it is either."

Even he wasn't sure if he was kidding or not. No one really knew what was in the stew, or how old it was, only that it tasted pretty good. All he knew was that things were constantly being added to it every so often. He didn't know if it was even changed, or cleaned out at all. That stew could be as old as the City itself for all he knew.

He did know, however, that the Drifter seemed to enjoy it a lot. Said it tasted like Hive.

Grey really didn't want to know.

"I… see," Corrin muttered, feeling a lot less hungry. She didn't mind the notion of eating different kinds of meat. But the notion that the stew might've been several years old was less than appetizing. She opted to move back to her salad and other vegetable based bits.

Surely those had to be somewhat fresh, given the growing apparatus that Grey had pointed out earlier. "I take it you and other hunters prefer the wilds as opposed to the comforts of City life then? Is that simply because you are Hunters?"

"Very," Grey began. "The Titans have their walls, and the Warlocks have their libraries, but we belong out there in the wilds. We prowl the system, explore places no one else dares to tread. City life just don't suit us. A Hunter who'd rather spend their entire career cooped up in the City ain't a Hunter at all. Hell, some may call us outlaws at times. The Titans are too loud and the Warlocks too flashy. We prefer stealth, taking out targets from a distance and then withdrawing, all without being spotted."

"Your work reminds me of our scouts back home," Corrin told him. "They are our eyes and ears in the world, and provided vital information during the war on our enemy movements."

"Well, us Hunters do function as scouts," Grey said. "We do just that, recon behind enemy lines. Some of us work directly for the Vanguard, like Shiro over at the Iron Temple."

He finished his beer and tossed it over his shoulder. He arched across the room and then landed perfected in a recycling bin on the other side. Not recycling was a crime, after all. "We'll head back to my apartment once you're done."

"I appreciate your kindness, and I'm sorry to impose on you."

Grey gave a simple shrug of his shoulders at her thanks, however. "I may be a Hunter, and we may be loners, but hell, I'm still a Guardian. It's what we do. Wouldn't be one otherwise."

She finished her meal soon enough, and he stood back up. "Come on."

————————————————————————————————————————————As stated, Grey's apartment wasn't far away. It was a rather drab-looking building at the top of the wall, nestled between a pair of two newer-looking ones. His unit was on the third floor.

"Well, here we are," he said, pushing open the door and flicking on the lights. "Ain't much."

True to his word, the unit was a rather small one-bedroom studio. It was remarkably plain, too, with only basic furniture like a dining table, sofa, and bed next to the balcony, along with other necessities, but there wasn't really anything eye-catching. There were a few posters on the walls, most of them depicting guns from various weapon foundries in the City, such as a large one depicting Tex Mechanica's signature products, the twin hand cannons Last Word and First Curse.

Other than that, there wasn't really anything else. It was, however, quite messy. The bed was unmade, there were several empty bottles of beer around, and the dish rack was stacked with (thankfully clean) dishes. The whole place also smelled faintly of old alcohol and just a trace of cigarette smoke.

Corrin had to admit, she'd thought that Grey's home would be a little more grand, or a little more homely at least. Still, at least she had a warm bed and a roof over her head for the night.

"Sorry 'bout the mess," Grey told Corrin. "I don't come by very often."

"By that he means he only comes by when he needs a place to crash after a night of drinking with his Hunter friends," Saratoga promptly added, appearing between them. It was the first time he had spoken since they had landed. "And by crash, I mean pass out, and by drink, I mean—"

"Okay, okay, I get it!" Grey cried, flicking his Ghost. "Don't have to run your mouth every time."

Corrin eyed the Ghost with a mix of curiosity and amusement. They were quite the pair indeed. "Thank you both once again for welcoming me into your space," she glanced around the room, a small frown coming to her face. "I wish there was something I could do to repay your kindness."

She clapped her hands together as an idea came to mind. "Oh I know, I can tidy up for you. Open a window, put away the dishes... it wouldn't be much since the place isn't super messy, but it's something, or maybe I could—"

"Don't bother," Grey cut her off. "Wouldn't make much of a difference, anyway. Like I said, I wouldn't really call this place home. Although I suppose you can open a window. It does smell pretty bad in here."

He made his way over to the fridge and opened it up, grabbing a bottle of beer. It was already filled to the brim with similar bottles. He then slammed it shut and popped off the cap of his beer, and took a sip.

"Listen, kid. Been meaning to ask you something," the Hunter began, leaning back on the countertop.

"What do you need?" Corrin asked, opening a window and letting a slight breeze in. The fresh air was an absolute godsend and cleared out some of the musk.

"That whole dragon transformation thing back in Chicago? Yeah, never seen anything like that before," Grey leaned in a little closer, narrowing his eyes a little. "What was that, really?"

"Oh… that?" Corrin pulled out a chair and took a seat. "The royal families of Nohr and Hoshido have been born carrying the blood of dragons for generations. Nohr bears the blood of the dragon of Dusk, Hoshido the dragon of dawn. Normally, this power allows the royal family to access special magical properties within the land, known as Dragon Veins."

"I bear the blood of the Dawn Dragon, and as such can access the magic of the dragon veins. But I am... a special case," she said slowly. "Unlike my siblings, I am able to take on a draconic form. Through the use of this stone," she held up her dragonstone. "I can control my transformations, and channel that power for good."

She gripped her stone tightly. "Without it, that power can spiral out of control, though that hasn't happened since I received my stone. But... in the one instance it did..." her expression grew sorrowful. "It came after the loss of someone dear to me… and were it not for my friend Azura, I'm not sure I would've regained my senses."

A sigh escaped her lips. Azura had vanished after the fighting had come to an end. Corrin didn't know if she was alive or dead, or simply moved beyond the kingdom. She felt deep down that the last option wasn't the case. Azura wouldn't have left without saying goodbye.

Grey's expression softened when she mentioned that it was a gift from a friend, someone she'd lost. "Guess we've all lost someone..." Grey muttered.

A cold breeze blew between them, once she had finished, causing the curtains to blow in the wind. The City down below was just as lively as ever, but in Grey's apartment the air grew a little thicker, with a sense of loss hanging in the air. The Hunter sighed, and took a sip from his beer.

"Look, kid," he began. "I think we should keep under wraps. This between us two, okay?"

He glanced out the window, to the City. "Up until three centuries ago or so, there used to be a species known as the Ahamkara, but most just called the dragons," Grey said, taking another sip. "They were powerful shapeshifting creatures, and very intelligent. But what made them dangerous was the fact that they could grant wishes, any wish. They'd bend the universe around them to turn desire into reality," He turned back to her. "But those wishes always came with a price. They'd always be twisted in some way, corrupting it. The wish would be granted, but it'd never be how the wisher wanted it."

He turned to Saratoga, who understood. The Ghost hovered up to the table. "Eventually, the Vanguard decided that they were too dangerous to be allowed to live. And so, the Guardians of the City embarked on what would be known as the Great Hunt."

He projected an image from his central eye, depicting several Guardians battling a massive reptilian beast. "The Hunt made the Ahamkara all but extinct, at least in the Solar System. There could still be survivors, but as far as the Vanguard's concerned, they're gone."

Though the massive reptilian monstrosity was nothing like what she'd heard about in legends, the Ahamkara's reality warping powers were on par with myths from her world.

Corrin nodded. "In my world, dragons are revered as powerful beings. Some consider them the gods of this land, which is why the royal families of Nohr and Hoshido are both revered for possessing dragon blood. I assure you, I don't possess any powers as grand as wish granting."

"Yeah, I had a feeling you don't," the Hunter shrugged in response. "I wasn't a alive back then, but there're still a ton of Great Hunt veterans still alive. Veterans like Shaxx, and Zavala, and Saladin."

He leaned forwards, a serious look in his eyes. "So I don't want you transforming around 'em, or in the City, or around anyone else, really. Don't want them coming to the wrong conclusions, and I'm sure they will."

Corrin scratched the back of her neck. "Uh, thank you for not uh… well you know..."

"Not killing you?" Grey asked, letting out a loose chuckle. Still, he shook his head. "Relax, kid. That ain't gonna happen. Still, just remember that. Besides, I ain't never seen an Ahamkara myself before. I was raised long after they were wiped out."

The princess allowed herself a small smile. "I promise not to change forms while in the city. The last thing I want is to put you in a position where you'd have to choose between me and your comrades."

She imagined that would be an easy choice for the hunter, and not one that would favor her.

"Don't think it'll come to that if we play our cards right," Grey said simply.

The interior heating had kicked in, and the apartment was beginning to warm up. Not quite warm and cozy, but warm enough to not feel the chill of the night outside.

Grey pushed himself off the counter, making his way over to the bed. He brushed off some ash off the sheets. "Get some sleep," he told her. "Got a feeling that it's gonna be a long day tomorrow."

"I couldn't take your bed!" Corrin objected, though she couldn't ignore how tired she was. "Where will you sleep?"

As was becoming a habit, Grey shrugged. "Don't need sleep, or food or anything. Don't really sleep much anyway. You know, the Warlocks always say that a Hunter's least favourite place to go is to sleep."

"Well, if you insist," Corrin moved to the bed, ignoring the faint musty smell rising from the sheets. "Alright then… well, goodnight," she called somewhat lamely as Grey stepped out onto the balcony. The only reply she got was a grunt.

She curled up under the sheets, sinking into the mattress. Tomorrow, hopefully she'd be one step closer to returning home. It wasn't long before she fell asleep, her mind a whirl with all that had happened that day.

Meanwhile, Grey was staring out towards the City. He stayed like that for a few moments, before he looked over to see that she was fast asleep.

He sighed, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a pack of cigarettes. They were rolled with real tobacco, not the alternatives they grew in the City. He knew because he had harvested it and rolled the cigarettes himself. Of course, it was a lot more harmful to his health, but he was a Guardian, so it'd hardly make a difference anyway.

lightly tapping it against his palm, he slid out a cigarette and held it between his index and middle fingers, and then brought it to his lips. He held it there and placed the pack back into his pocket. With his hand in his pocket, he then pulled out an old Zippo lighter.

It was ancient, and hardly functioning, but he kept it, mostly for the sentimental value. The lighter itself was visibly dented and scratched, but on its front was an engraving, an engraving of the three upwards arrows of the Hunter sigil within an ace of spades. Behind them was a pair of crossed hand cannons: The Last Word and the First Curse.

He fiddled with it for a few moments, before popping open the cap. He flicked the sparkwheel, producing some sparks, but no flame. He tried again, and again, only to get the same result each time.

The Hunter rolled his eyes and then put it away. Instead, he brought his hand up to the cigarette, and then snapped his fingers. A tiny flame was produced, lighting up the cigarette.

Light had other uses outside combat, after all. Simpler, more mundane uses. He'd seen Guardians use their Light for all sorts of purposes, from lighting up candles to cooking food.

He puffed on the cigarette, feeling himself relax as the nicotine was absorbed into his blood. Exhaling a cloud of smoke, he couldn't help but take another look at Corrin. This time, his gaze lingered there for a while, remaining on her sleeping form. He stood there, watching the covers rise and fall with each breath, her silver-white hair seeming to reflect off the glow from outside.

"Still thinking about her?" Saratoga asked. "About Elyse, I mean."

Grey sighed, tapping his cigarette to dislodge some ash. "When am I not? You know she's still on my mind."

The Ghost sighed. "You know it's been fifteen years, Grey," he sighed, sympathetically. "You just have to... get over it."

"What do you think I've been doing all this time?" The Hunter shot back. "I've been trying."

"Well, so far, the drinks and gambling ain't working," Saratoga told him. "They haven't been working."

"They make it a hell lot easier," Grey muttered, inhaling another puff of smoke.

"Still having nightmares?"

"'Course I am. Never stopped having them since she died."

Saratoga sighed, his shell drooping slightly. Then, he turned to face Corrin. "You know, she reminds you a lot of Elyse, huh?"

Grey turned to him with a raised brow. "What?"

"You know, that wide-eyed, naive fish outta water look," the Ghost explained. "Like how Elyse was when you first met her."

The Hunter immediately caught on. "I don't like what you're suggesting."

Saratoga rolled his eye. "Look, what I'm saying is that you need someone else. I mean, you can't just stay and mope all day and pass out to The Good, the Bad and the Ugly for the thousandth time."

"Says who?"

"Says me," Saratoga said, voice firm. Once again, Grey could almost see him crossing his arms in finality. "I'm your Ghost. I'm supposed to take care of you?"

"Thought it was the other way around."

"I don't see you healing and rezzing my ass every time I go down."

"That's because you live in my backpack."

"Oh for..." Saratoga groaned deeply, then turned back to his Guardian. "You know what? Never mind."

Then, he was all business. "So, what're you planning to do with her?"

The Hunter exhaled a puff of smoke. "Take her to Val, come up with a plan, gather my fireteam, and get her home."

"It ain't that easy."

"Of course it ain't. Nothing ever is."

"So what if we can't get her home?"

Grey glanced at Corrin, then sighed. "Then I guess she stays in the City. It's the best option."

"You really think so?"

"Yeah," Grey nodded simply. "Sooner or later she's gonna learn that there're worse things out there than the Fallen, that the City's protected by walls for a reason. She just ain't suited to this kinda thing, dragon form or no."

The Ghost sighed. "If that's what you say, Grey. Guess there's no dwelling on it now, though."

Grey nodded, but said nothing. He crushed his finished cigarette into an ashtray, extinguishing the dying embers. "No use dwelling on it now."

With that, he hopped over the balcony railing, and down the wall and to the City.

A couple drinks to celebrate would brighten anyone's mood.