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Vanguards of the Great Journey by Arbiter
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Vanguards of the Great Journey
Date: 27 October 2005, 2:48 pm
Vanguards of the Great Journey
SkyL
I
A Tribute…
‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›
Chip off the old block…
The dazzling mausoleum glowed into a monumental structure, enlivened by symbolic lights for respect to the deceased. Each honored consumption resting in the beyond among divinities.
Inside the tombs of the valorous Arbiters, Heroes of Elites bared their distinction with honor and pride. From the mausoleum, an ornamented deck protruded. An Elite Councilor and a secluded Prophet watched over the mausoleum. Waiting.
"Do you presume he is capable of managing such a honor?" The Prophet of Mercy asked, tracing his snout with his lanky hand.
"He is my son, and he will uphold the privilege as he was born to…" Eleir 'Lehammee growled at the Prophet, as he absolved his unfaithfulness in his descendant.
"'Lehammee is strong, and expedient, he will be an obedient choice as the new Arbiter" The Prophet said with certitude.
"I must withdraw my seat on the High Council, I have devoted this moment my whole existence, he will deal with the intervention and I will direct him into the light" The Elite growled honestly.
"You are sure, Councilor?" the Prophet asked him twitching his writhing neck toward the Elite.
"It is my own glory I have chased, but if he can handle the Disciple Crisis, even as it greatens as we decide the decided," The Councilor said oppressively.
The portal to the mausoleum opened emitting a mauve light into the cluttered shadows. The Arbiter hopeful walked through the chamber, gliding by the systematic row of Honor Guards that gazed at him with heartening eyes.
The father looked over his son with a pride that he never expressed, his son was contrived for battle. His immense might and valorous heart would show his motivation to be a consecrated saint of the Covenant.
"Yes, he is ready" The Councilor declared scouring his mandibles in a smirk.
"For the incitement of the Covenant and your distinction, Councilor, I trust he is ready"
* * *
Bela 'Lehammee ceased himself in front of the three virtuous Prophets. He stood upright in posture, he scraped his palms together behind his back in an irritating habit. The Elite bowed to the graces of the originators, and parted his hands.
"Holy Ones" 'Lehammee growled in a contented pitch.
The Elite dipped again in a reverence, egotism but uprightness spirit. Worthy and Inferior, the Prophet of Truth thought extending his arm to indicate the Elite up. Truly magnificent reputation, at least his father had a hail.
This Elite had served on the Council of Masters, yet combat was rarely seen in the Council, but politics, the more wearisome and dull in Truth's feelings. Admirable acceptance for a new Arbiter, but their were flaws…
"Present your blessing for this" Truth ushered to a floating podium, the Arbiter's armor flashed with a dazzling spite, the mausoleum was full of eagerness, impatience, kindness, and sorrow.
The Prophets hovered in an avid silence turning their crooked gullets toward the hopeful…
"Surely" 'Lehammee nodded to the Prophets, and continued. "The privilege of the Arbiter has always allured me as a child. I was inspired of the vanguards for their enlightenment on the Great Journey, forever they have walked uniquely as the Divine Beyond has directed the Arbiters to be the envoys of the Covenant. I have that enlightenment and motivation to be a vanguard" He finished with a short sigh and looked up from the Prophet's to the armor and to his foregoing brothers.
"So it would appear, 'Lehammee" The Prophet of Regret confessed.
"The Arbiter's have been our devoted saints, they are the public icons of every child in the city, but they endorse a honor. Can you revere that?" Mercy said declining into his under robes and holding his scrawny palms.
"I would uphold it with honor and distinction, and my abilities shall never be forgotten" The Elite said bending his knees to the Prophets.
"With your enlivening, we have granted you, Arbiter" The Prophet of Truth said with no hesitant.
The Prophet snapped the transparent arrow on his arm, from his golden robes. And the podium lurched forward and the steam hissed into 'Lehammee's mandibles. The taste of victory…
He stepped forward and grabbed the armor and put his face into the helmet. For his whole life this moment was the greatest.
The Prophet of Truth put his hand up; the Elite watched him and kneeled holding the armor with his life.
"Are you aware of the Disciple Crisis, Arbiter?" Truth asked him ceasing his glory for a moment.
The Arbiter ran through his mind what he knew about the Disciples, just that they were vicious and vile creatures that were bent on the Forerunner's power…
"The Disciples are a faction of dissenters, impelled to use their apprised technology to discover the Forerunner's strength to raze upon our Covenant and the Great Journey" 'Lehammee spoke.
"As you know they hold no distinctive threat to the Covenant, even when no enemy has withstood our power, these traitors have found one of our Lord's relics on a remote planet called, Sacrosanct. They have repelled our special troops and have harassed the Forerunners by desecrating their weaponry" Regret said to the knelt Elite.
"The bloodlust of the Elites has gone on long enough, they have transgressed into the Disciples, as they have restrained a resentment against the High Council and the Forerunners" Mercy replied, his headpiece bobbing in a curt inclination.
"They have lured the Engineers to the planet to convert the Forerunner's creation to build weapons of perpetual power. The murderous Disciples have built a forge around Sacrosanct and our ships cannot penetrate their planet-wide fortress. From our patrols we have detected excavations of the Forerunner's holy loam. It is your task to rescue the Engineers and raid the Disciple's hold on the planet" Truth finished with a venomous glance at the other Hierarchs.
"It is my honor" The Arbiter said putting his head into the helmet, his mandibles extended in an anxious grin.
* * *
"Are you ready?" The father asked, letting his mandibles slide into a sulk.
The Arbiter suited in the traditional set of armor looked fervent and determined.
"This bond will never be cut, father. I am insistent as perpetual grace, your teachings has guided me into a bliss I will forever cherish that is my priming" The Arbiter replied.
The father gazed onto his son with proud eyes, of all his sons and daughters, Bela 'Lehammee was the strongest and most expedient. Truly the will of the Hierarchs, the vanguards of the Great Journey.
"Meander down the fierce path, my son. And eternal glory will follow when you, The Arbiter testify the traitors to the abysses. It is then you will follow the arise of our Covenant and the journey into the above" Eleir uttered, a single tear touched his mandibles and he tasted his own son's life.
The Arbiter turned from his father, not looking back, his teal eyes sparkled and trickled gloss, with hastiness he rushed into the dropship and sighed.
'The beacon of the Covenant, the believer of the Forerunners, walked to a demise so great the Arbiters would outcry the beloved founder'
"Yes I journey for content…Father you will be proud…"
Tranquil is the Arbiter, confident he is, and passionate with a fire that would light the future…
Vanguards of the Great Journey-Path of Righteousness
Date: 4 November 2005, 1:00 pm
Vanguards of the Great Journey
SkyL
II
Path of Righteousness
‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›
Fond memories…
The Phantom purled into space, High Charity the holy dominance and haven of the Covenant blinked at the dropship from the stars. The revered city hastily winced from space leaving nothing but a blank void of sable black.
The Arbiter inside the dropship inhaled an enormous burden of guilt, repression, and tension. Selected from sovereignty and trained by sanctity, Bela 'Lehammee was transformed from a spy to a dedicated Arbiter.
A large burden to carry, one that is hallowed and devout, but 'Lehammee recognized the distension of honor all to well. His mother and father were beset by their lineage, the history of venerable Elites passing down their faith and distinct crest to their sons. Yes, all to well, the Arbiter was swayed with the constant loyalty of his father. As a child he endured blessings of ranks and swelled in the greed of wisdom.
'Lehammee shifted in his armor with an uneasy pride, this pride he hadn't felt in a long time, and made him feel greatly perplexed. The Arbiter childishly played with his hilt; the sacred writing indicating traditional weaves were bent on the handgrip creating the Mark of Praise.
The Arbiter curved his mandibles in a reflective expression he looked at the Mark with a certain pain of exultation. The Mark of Praise etched into his mind and he retained that proud day with discomfort and gladness…
* * *
"Come, Bela and I will show you the true Covenant" The Councilor greeted his son…
Bela 'Lehammee took his father's palm and they slipped onto a jagged path where Forerunner alloy parted into a lucid valley.
A creek leaked into the basin propelling a massive waterfall into shrubs of fine pitch. The bushes crinkled into a wild pattern of immortalizing ancientness, spanning into piercing scenery.
The young Elite clicked his mandibles in boyish impatience and they continued when he heard the sound of cheering and applause.
The next valley was bustling with hovering stands; benches stretching into tiers of purple each holding denizens of Covenant beings. The buzz of Drone laborers filled the tranquil scene and the bellowing praises of Elite warriors stirred emotions.
At the center of the valley the Prophet Hierarch, Mercy hovered above the stony cobbles with a silent wisdom. The praise continued at the sight of the Councilor and Bela 'Lehammee and the uproar grew, yet with a noiseless enlightenment at the same time.
"Father?" 'Lehammee asked gazing upon the crowd.
The Councilor pushed his son forward to the center stage where the Prophet peacefully wavered.
They both kneeled at the Prophet's imperial dais in esteem and Mercy ushered them up with a beaming assertion.
"Noble Mercy?" Bela 'Lehammee stated in a revering tone.
Mercy raised his hands, ignoring the stretched garments under his robes that covered his fingers. Silence followed the hands and Mercy floated forward to the child.
"Young Bela 'Lehammee, son of the great Eleir 'Lehammee and withheld brave of our Covenant. Your reputation has incessantly surpassed the Master's of your age, and you have been guided into glory as a mere child. For your leading services for the Covenant you will bestowed with what you are worth…"
The young Elite sweat as the Prophet placed a clammy hand on his forehead…
"The Covenant shall honor Bela 'Lehammee!" Mercy declared.
The Prophet waved a hand from his robes and a Honor Guard brought a silver receptacle.
The receptacle was layered with ribbons of purple and silver and a emission of cold air expelled from the cube.
Mercy took the box from the Honor Guard with easy grace and opened it with a touch of a finger.
The cube opened revealing a hilt of an Energy Sword. The hilt had embers of fire trickling into the creases giving it a ghostly shine.
The Councilor put his hand on 'Lehammee's shoulder…It was upright…
'Lehammee reached into the box and felt the hilt, he gripped the sound handle and felt burning in his palm…
At every painful stab of searing he grasped it even tighter, yet he felt falteringly cold.
He yelled in agony at the blaring scorch…
Then at the back of his mind his consciousness pulled him…
His instincts kicked and reacted…
He ignited the Energy Sword with a curl of his arm, and the pain suddenly stopped, but the cold swept through him like ice…
He looked at the blade, glossy and powerful, it symbolized remembrance and endowment.
'Lehammee spread his fingers and saw a emblem in the center of the hilt.
The Mark of Praise was seared into his blade…
* * *
At the thought of a memory, the Arbiter swiftly slipped back into reality…
The same Mark created a sense of pride and honor that could be remade until there was nothing to be undone…
Praise, peace, skill, intelligence, and combatant…
The Arbiter was all those things, attributes that made his existence…
Vanguards of the Great Journey-Entities of Inheritance
Date: 9 November 2005, 3:41 pm
Vanguards of the Great Journey
SkyL
III
Entities of Inheritance
‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›
Love is in the air…
Bela 'Lehammee walked to the blazing lift in the center of the Phantom, the Elites around him marveled at him as he gracefully jumped through the blue mist…
Around 'Lehammee were barren heavens, and he floated through them like an impulsive comet wafting into the stars. The Arbiter looked ahead and saw the planet Sacrosanct onward. He lurched as the Phantom behind him dove after him.
"Arbiter, use your sainted sword to mangle the Disciples with the Forerunner's faith" The Elite pilot spoke into the frilling receiver.
The Arbiter smiled through open mandibles at the Phantom above him. "Thank you, brothers"
'Lehammee looked at his sword, the Mark of Praise branded into the hilt. He gripped it with a light coldness. Stroking the frigid space with powerful grace. The Elite scrapped his throat with his inmost mandible; the icy cold stellar rasped his gullet and compiled his mouth with frost.
In his minor pouch he had a Rebreather yet he felt compelled to go on without a breather.
Across his shoulder there brushed a frosty air pocket that pleasantly felt like a hand. He shuttered as his body burdened the cold. The ice of space reminded him of his inexperienced periods.
* * *
The small Covenant conveyor whipped through the outskirts of High Charity and past the artificial atmosphere and launched into the heavens.
The Spirit was a diminutive vehicle, a swift craft used for transportation. It was sleek with mauve steel, carved from Forerunner metal. The core in the middle was a circular orb of lustrous blue; it had wires from the core that interlaced in and out of the Spirit's slick structure. The Spirit had a tetrad of seats for riders and a driver's perch in front of the orb.
The glass carving the Spirit turned a glassy gray as space converted the pane into frost. A trio of young Elites conversed in the craft, while the driver was awing at the celestial stars.
"My family has the most honor than yours, surely my clan has dwelled in the Prophet's eyes for two ages." A young Elite named Hasa 'Rolassure growled.
"The 'Rolassure ancestry trails for one age, Hasa. Besides my father is a sentry for the Engineers" Another Elite called Jila 'Kahummee stated to the other.
"Well my grandmother was an Elder, she was the most prestigious in my lineage!" A female Elite called Sari 'Sistummee declared.
"What was her name?" Jila asked her.
"Kari 'Sistummee"
The male Elites looked at each other and frowned into Sari's stunning, turquoise eyes.
"I've never heard of her…" Hasa hissed through gritted teeth.
"Me neither, and females cannot be Elders!" Jila snarled.
Sari eased her gaze and tottered her mandibles to roar back but stopped.
"What do you think, Bela? Can females lead a family honor?" She blinked at the driver with those turquoise eyes.
Bela 'Lehammee concentrated on the mirror, the blinking shadows licked her eyes in the mirrorpane.
"It matters not, the females have accomplished remarkable feats in this age" Bela confessed.
"Thank you" She winked her beauty into his eyes and returned a menacing gaze to the other boys.
Sari 'Sistummee was a beautiful female, she was the highest in her class, as she was preparing to be a Handmaiden for the warrior Elites.
The Spirit curved bound for the stars, Bela looked into the empty void determined to find a divinity.
"Let's stop here" Jila growled at Bela.
Bela reached under the monitor and pulled a transparent lever and the Spirit halted its speed.
"Who wants to go first?" Hasa asked the group.
They each looked into each other's eyes, Bela was careful not to look into Sari's but her eyes kept scanning to meet his.
"I will…" Bela smiled finally meeting his gaze to Sari's and grinning.
Bela took off his armored gloves and instantly felt the cold even through the Spirit. His underarmor was cased with frost already and he immediately felt remorseful.
"Be careful…" Sari warned glowing at the Elite.
Dropping the remorse from the sound of her voice he lifted the hatch and he felt the space.
His skin was sucked to his bones and his structure upheld the pressure with the underarmor. Without shields and a Rebreather the Elite would be vulnerable to the worst.
Sparks punched his flesh and he tightened his grasp on himself. He looked back into the pane and saw Sari, her face floated into him like the space itself. And instantly his mind blanked and all he saw was a scrawny Prophet at the alter where Sari 'Sistummee wore gorgeous violet silk. He saw himself in azure armor, and he held a crystal corsage in an open palm.
He felt the back of his mind and he was hurled into validity. Bela rushed into the Spirit holding his breath, his mandibles stinging with icy pain.
The perch heated and he comforted as he coughed up tiny icicles.
"You are truly a warrior now, Bela" Sari expressed placing her palm on his shoulder.
Vanguards of the Great Journey-Spirit in the Sky
Date: 23 November 2005, 1:07 pm
-Sorry it took me so long to post this, Greek Elite. And as for you lifeless poster's who publicize to the entire website that I don't use the code, LEAVE ME ALONE! It is not required to have the code, it is recommended. And I am not lazy, as a matter of fact I read the code and I USE IT! I follow my font and positions exactly as Jillybean's so go hassle the veteran. But yeah oh wait a second, I read all of Jilly's posts on her stories as well as the stories, and there is HARDLY any posts on code usage. Fan Fiction is about writing how and what you want. Who are you lowlifes to tell the authors that they HAVE to use the code?! I may not be a moderator and I may not have a single say in this but the Code is useless! Sure it is better to use it, but the people who don't care if there is a "Precious Code" actually read the stories and looks beyond the words and grasps what we WANT them to read in the first place! That is called a story, a moral, a purpose, and a lesson in a story. People, I am telling you now! Look past the stupid code for once don't use it, I don't care…I have been writing in HBO for a while now, I am still new I admit, but I have realized the CODE is pointless! I am not downing Commander Demetri Wolf, Jillybean, The Greek Elite, Sdn, or Shadow. You guys have guided me and I have looked up to make me a better writer. But please, PLEASE understand my point…Who cares about the code? I am sorry for this rude intro, and as for "Seeds of Revenge" I want to do pairing writer series with my ally and comrade in writing, The Greek Elite. If you can't I understand Alex, I also have a lot of things to worry about. Give me feedback and enjoy Vanguards of the Great Journey-
Vanguards of the Great Journey
Sky L
IV
Spirit in the Sky
‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›
A Bold One…
Sacrosanct was an intense orb of silver and indigo. And the clouds skimming it flashed like white gems. Around the planet there were barriers of Forerunner shielding, branching an orbit inside a large terminal.
The station was the source of the mayhem; the Generator of all the massacres the Disciples razed upon the Covenant. Violet-red covers contrived a bastion of irreverence in the cycle of orbiting.
The Elite floated, alone but forceful into the protective perimeter. Bela 'Lehammee coughed more ice as he gracefully driving himself to the Generator. His gullet was scoured with the icy space.
The Arbiter flexed his muscles and paddled toward the generator. The towering station obstructed the beautiful gem of Sacrosanct with a menacing view. Spikes of ramparts guarded the Generator; they were alien looking with the conversion of Forerunner and Disciple technology.
Then from the Generator an impulsive alarm sounded, the alert warred with the silence of space creating a droning echo. Out of the sockets of the Generator the Disciples emitted a blurry shroud.
Bela 'Lehammee reacted, he outstretched his forearm and bent the hilt to the pitch of gravity. The Praised Energy Sword flicked a whisper of power at the Arbiter. He directed his blade toward the shroud and prepared for the worse.
The Disciple's arsenal was very profane, as they tainted the Forerunner's weapons and crossed it with Covenant.
The Arbiter stretched his vision; his eyes traced the shroud and flinched as he realized what it was.
Hail Salvos were raining toward him; they were small and dense barrages binding into waves. The Arbiter scooped his forearm and felt the plasma surge into the blade confining into his palm.
'Lehammee crossed his blade to his chest and marked the fiery tip with the hail. The hail dismissed into him, as he slashed at the sleet with his sword.
The salvos evaporated into the sword as he lashed into the Disciple's weapons. The shrouds of hail blasted away into the space through his flesh as the Arbiter finished the last wave.
'Lehammee panted from the exhaustion, he sweltered an icy sweat as he paddled toward the Generator. The padlocks on the immense station's doors released with an uneasy hiss. The Forerunner energy cables discharged to the doors to disable the atmosphere inside the Generator.
The Arbiter fell into the wavy purple bucklers and dropped in a dim corridor. The Elite held his sword close, beckoning the Mark of Praise to his shadow. The only source of light floated ghastly in front of him, the power of the blade was an emblem of fright that would lead him through the Generator.
There were towering pillars that suddenly emitted into a faint blaze and he heard a clanking coming from the end of the corridor.
The hall was filled with ghostly whispers and the sound of his sword buzzed with a blear glow. The Arbiter trickled a hint of fear but hushed it into his sacred armor. The Disciples were very secrete and powerful, they were known to slaughter Hunter's with a simple stroke of their frigid sabers.
'Lehammee flicked his mandibles in snarl, he was ready for these beasts. His father told him that the Disciples were not Elites, they were their own kind. They were portrayed, as Elites by the Prophet's to hush another war. The Arbiter pondered the Prophet's loss of honesty, but realized the Covenant would do better away from war, even after the acceptance of the Brutes.
Around the pillars darkness moved as one body. More shadows cornered into the gloom and the Arbiter turned facing them. "Reveal yourselves!"
The ghastly whispers broke into a buzzing light. Abruptly the pillars emitted in clusters of blue beams. The tiny beams grazed the structure of the Arbiter, completely depleting his shields.
'Lehammee dove, the beams flexed and maimed his flesh. He ran into the darkness and turned from the pillars, waiting for his shields to replenish.
Then from where he was standing a towering Disciple emerged from the darkness…
The Disciple was a vicious looking monster; it stood taller than a Hunter did. It's body molded into an alloyous cuirass. The silver armor gave reflective terror, even in his eyes. The Disciple's body was lanky but muscular, as it's long arms gripped a silver saber that was embedded into the wrist.
The Arbiter made the first move; he drove his weight into a flip and kneeled to the beast's torso. He pulsed his Energy Sword into the Disciple's stomach, feeling the seeping tan gore onto his fingers.
'Lehammee looked up to watch his victim fall, it didn't.
The face of the Disciple tore into the Arbiters mind, it's face was split into a mask of teeth. The jagged teeth bore into a smile and it laughed.
It reached down with perpetual ease; the blow of the Arbiter's blade created a massive gash but didn't slow it down. The Disciple picked the Elite off his feet, as 'Lehammee released his blade from the gash.
It's massive clamps for hands bore into his neck; the sabers around his wrist brushed his flesh. His eyes glazed and he sighed in pain. Then from the back of his mind he saw the face of Sari.
An invisible pull gripped him and he tore into the Disciple's mask with his hands. From a swift anger he rammed his head into the forehead of the beast and it bled in the tan maw. The Arbiter did an aerial skim and tucked from the Disciple's gangly claws.
He lit his Energy Sword and the Mark of Praise glowed a dubious cyan. He looked up to see the ram in the Disciple's skull made it blind. It was swinging it's arms at the air and the Arbiter curled and ducked from every blow.
'Lehammee lowered himself and swung a even smack to the Disciple's head. In a split moment the tan gore splattered over the floor. He stepped over the body and hooked the sword back into a attack stance.
Then suddenly from the shadows the Forerunner and Disciple beams rayed toward him, but as he ducked the beams halted in mid air. From the pillars the Disciples revealed themselves growling through their gritted masks.
From the mob of the Disciples the Arbiter saw a cage of fire around symbols of Forerunner terminals. The crystal gravity packs signified the captivated Engineers through the fiery jails.
The Arbiter was trapped…
Vanguards of the Great Journey-Envoy of the Covenant
Date: 2 December 2005, 12:54 pm
Vanguards of the Great Journey
Sky L
V
Envoy of the Covenant
‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›
Marked and Praised
The Arbiter withstood the shadows of the spiteful Disciples; standing with his praised Energy Sword aimed at the monsters. Bela 'Lehammee bounced his white blade in the air, closing his eyes with eagerness and might…
He was unafraid of death…
The Engineers in the fire-bound jails screeched deafeningly at the sight of the Elite. The fidgety aliens floated to their fire binds as a nearby Disciple discharged it's sabers into the confinement at the Engineer while it cowered in the dazzle.
"You will release them" The Arbiter threatened, holding his sword toward one of the monsters. "They are the Prophet's contrivers and your malice is befouling all they have struggled to create!"
'Lehammee tackled the mob of shadows and delved his weight into a blow, curving his arms and slicing through a Disciple. They moved with extraordinary strength, darkening beings, showing their jagged teeth to the Elite with a persisting fierceness.
The Elite fell to the onslaught; the wave of shadows hindering his movement completely. They blocked the slightest parry and moved like looming shadows as the Arbiter fought to regain strength.
'Lehammee depressed a strike to the head of a Disciple who had the cuff of his armor and it dropped in a staggering blast of the praised Elite. He fought to stand, swinging his sword back into the armor of another adversary.
The deft path opened and the Arbiter smoothly flipped backward forcing his arms upward in a strengthening grasp toward the Disciples. He landed in the shadows and the Disciples halted their charge.
"Your corruption will end this age!" 'Lehammee barked, clasping his Energy Sword with two hands.
The shadows backed away and the captive Engineers receded with them, their shrieking cries fading in the dark while the Disciple's pillars fired their kindles, sparking a glisten of energy at the Arbiter.
A single Forerunner beam hammered his side, the feeling of cold patched his wound and he gripped the Mark of Praise even tighter. The Disciple's pillars radiated another laser path and this time 'Lehammee was ready.
The Arbiter slashed at the beam and it sizzled in his Energy Sword with a victorious passion. The Elite's arm countered a round including an active spike to a lingering shadow behind him.
He beckoned the Disciple he stabbed and he heard a retort of a hoarse growl. "Die…"
"Die…"
"Die…"
"Die…"
All around him the ghastly whispers embraced his mind and the burning sounds owned his body with a frightening torment…
"Die…Die…"
The Arbiter dropped his sword and it evaporated in its hilt as he held his forehead with a gaping scream…
"NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!"
In a flash of profound blue the Arbiter dropped in unconsciousness, the Mark of Praise seared in his mind, his last cling to life…
* * *
The shrine materialized over the gravity lift with an instant boost and the Elite Masters hastily revealed them, striding swiftly through the corridors to the structure ahead.
Bela 'Lehammee tucked his oration inside his capped and cyan armor. The Elite Master allowed himself to breathe slowly, letting his mandibles tremble under the stress of the Council.
The immense field of the entrance hall upon the shrine extolled the Covenant's passion for the Forerunner's…
Every bulb of light, every shaft of plasma, every beautifying decoration was a likeness of the Great One's. Admiring these foundations, 'Lehammee found himself suddenly worried.
His admittance into the Council of Masters was hard enough, now he had to endure the Reception of the Spy which most of his brothers and sisters failed to enter. The Elite had to ensure his chances on being a Spy, by all means.
The speech…
'Lehammee rushed to scrape his reflections on the Spies:
Covert and loyal…
Reputable and Virtuous…
The council's words, not his…
'Lehammee intersected to the shrine with the group of Spy Hopefuls, all concentrating on their speeches in front of the ruthless council. 'Lehammee then managed a fake smile to a Delicate Elite striding by and he compacted his fear all in his head and walked onto the lighted rostrum below the hundreds of Council dais.
The Elite felt light but his legs felt dense as Forerunner steel…
"The Council of Masters recognizes Bela 'Lehammee" The Councilor directed.
The Council murmured before the Elite got a chance to move his mandibles…All whispering in hushed tones, until one spoke…
"Son of Elsa?"
"Yes, Loyal Councilors" 'Lehammee thanked every clique in his body for letting him speak without a stutter.
"Another 'Lehammee? Hmph, is he another oversight like his siblings or a legend like his father?" One Councilor in the shadows pointed at the rostrum.
"We will see, brother. Begin, Bela 'Lehammee, what is your motive in becoming a Spy?"
The Elite's mind flipped and his mandibles reacted: "The Council of Masters has been a allegiant part of the Covenant for ages and the Spy is another gracious opportunity to glorify your skills to the Great Ones." 'Lehammee stood straighter. "The Spies are…covert and loyal, skilled and honored, admired and praised like momentous Arbiters of the Covenant. I am proficient in this aspect and every respect the Spy has to commend"
He stopped and waited hearing once again nothing but whispers…
"Good" The Councilor stated.
'Lehammee sighed as the Council erupted in applause, his father would be proud…
Vanguards of the Great Journey-Flying by Night
Date: 5 December 2005, 8:15 pm
Vanguards of the Great Journey
Sky L
VII
Flying by Night
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Remembrance
"Die…"
The echoing whispers resounded through Bela 'Lehammee's ears as the Elite gathered his bearings. His vision blurred and his rib cage blistered from the past battle. All of his body felt a sear of pain.
The Arbiter looked around the Disciple cell where a thick sheet of wavy purple obstructed him from space and a pit of Disciple pillars. The cell was constructed of silvery steel, Forerunner that was spiked with Covenant blasting.
He was trapped…
'Lehammee reflected on what got him in this situation. The Elite scanned his memories but felt a stab of reverberating voices blast his mind, blocking the past entirely. Every time he tried to look back he heard nothing but a dire voice whispering in his ears.
He wondered what kind of new technology this inhibitor derived from Covenant or Forerunner?
Either way it was working…
The Elite ignored the constant pain in the back of his mind, the scraping ice he swallowed down from space, or the damage of the unknown entities humming in his ear. 'Lehammee watched in downfall as a meteorite whooshed by his cell.
He traced it to the port side of the Generator where it collided with a glow emitting from the side. The flapping cluster of barriers connecting the Generator embraced the collision as another meteorite crashed into the shielding.
The Arbiter then watched from the vastness of space where the meteor turned from lone bolts to a shower of sparks. From the many receptacles of the Generator much of them opened releasing massive slabs of hail.
'Lehammee then sought to remember the hail-his praised sword whizzing in the silent blackness at the hail where he met every spark with energy.
"Die…"
His memory darkened and the recollection annulled in the back of his mind…
'Lehammee watched the battle between the wonders of space and the Disciple's replicated weaponry, both clashing and mussing one another in a heat of intensity. The Disciple's defense then slipped, letting a hole through the zone of combat.
The meteorites rinsed toward him, blasting coats of debris through the way. The meteorites blighted to his cell and collided with the purple sheet.
The collision of the meteorites whacked the Arbiter off his feet, making him crash into the other sheet of energy. He bobbed his head back to see the damage.
The sheet of energy dissolved in a wisp of smoke and space froze inside the cell, causing 'Lehammee to cough while his gullet was scoured with ice.
He leaned out of the cell and crossed the debris, fluttering his strong arms to the new gravity. Feeling like he was swimming in an endless pool…
He noticed an empty place from all an abrupt halt, his Praised Energy Sword was dispatched from his sheath, and he felt…weak without it.
As he crossed to the blown Generator, the meteorites around him flashed defeat and the showers of hail dismissed in a sudden shred of smoldering fire…
While the Arbiter spanned the nothingness of space he grazed his mind and abolished the boundless pain that prevented his thoughts and all the whispers that were concealed something's…
* * *
"Bela, pay attention to be a gallant Elite you must first learn to outwit your opponent" 'Lehammee's father, Eleir brandished an Energy Stave at the ready.
"Yes, father" The young Elite replied, kindling his newly Praised Energy Sword to his chest.
Bela 'Lehammee was inside his suite quarter, where his mother, Elsa 'Lehammee and his brother and sister, Gela and Pria 'Lehammee were watching the father and son sparring.
"Sword up…and tighten your grip, young one" Eleir demanded, shuffling his feet to the energy mats under them.
Bela obliged and held his head up, parrying a blow from his father with both hands. He then turned to offensive stance but quickly altered the pitch when his father bent another charge on him.
"Good form and nice shift, but learn to keep your sword up" His father growled, intelligently, helping his son from the energy pads.
The Elite nodded and held his fists high to block a quick dart from the Councilor's stave. He stretched the hilt to his chest and transferred his weight from a defending block to an unforeseen evasion into his father.
His father toppled backward from the dodging, and nodded proud at his son's skills. "You see, Elsa there is use for that mark!"
His mother shook her head and waited for the Grunt Servants to refill her goblet. They then marked each other's evasions and carried on with the duel.
* * *
The Arbiter lost all indications of entrances inside the Generator. The Elite spanned his heightened abilities to the full extent, tracking the meteorite crashes all through the Disciple station, looking for a way in.
'Lehammee grimaced at an enormous strip, impacted by the showers. The strip embodied a purple barrier, the same that trimmed the entire Generator. The Arbiter then thrashed his weaponless arms at the lightsome force and floated down to the strip.
He drifted through the artificial atmosphere, tasting the coarse energy. He stretched his mandibles as he landed in the corridor. This one was different than the ones he ventured through. This was brightly lit with the Disciple's "pillars" which 'Lehammee avoided at all costs.
The Elite saw from the corner of his eye a sudden trace of movement. He then reacted to the shadow, welcoming the Disciple behind it.
"Die…"
The Arbiter screamed in agony. "Not this again, arrrggggghhhh!"
The shadow hinted a sparkle of the silver armor of the Disciples, which dove at the Arbiter.
'Lehammee ignored the pain withering inside his skull, but he was ready for the shadow. The Disciple revealed itself through the shading of the pillars and tackled the Arbiter.
The Arbiter as he was defenseless ran through the list of effective pins. He chose the one that first sounded deadly and acted it over his fists.
'Lehammee beat down on the Disciple's face with his hands, gouging it's mask with his fingers as it slowly drove it's strength against him. It flexed its strong hands into the Arbiter's back and pushed down.
The Elite threw air at the floor. His jaw hit a base of the hall and it started bleeding from the enduring force. He abandoned the whispering and the sudden pain and crossed his legs and jumped, landing gracefully on his feet.
He motioned his hands towards the Disciple as it snarled at him, menacingly. The Disciple threw itself on him, but he punched it in the face, obscuring it to the floor.
'Lehammee looked to the body of the unconscious monster and he looked to see something truly miraculous in the Disciple's holster…
The Arbiter picked up his Praised Energy Sword and flexed. It's magnificent tip protruding from the hilt to a majestic beam…
As the Elite stepped over the body he sliced at the ground with his sword, and screamed in thunderous reign. Victorious once again…
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