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Destiny audio book (Chapter 3 and Chapter 4) | Myelin Games


Destiny out of the wild: A novella by J.A.
Parry-Bruce Chapter THREE Feels like we’ve been walking the length
of the atrium forever. My hip hurts. Pielo has the deer slung across his shoulders. We scavenged what we could from the corpses. We’ve got makeshift sacks tied across our
backs, full of guns, armour, cloth, strange devices, all looted from the bodies. We’ve got some trinkets from the room, too. The four-arm’s damaged helmet hangs from
an improvised hook at my belt. It’s heavy and it stinks. Pielo said we should go and see where they
came from. There might be more, but we’d be careful,
sneak out and see if they’ve left anything else. While he talked I searched the four-arm, found
something I can’t get out of my head. It’s a little blunt-ended star with an eye. The eye is dark, like the lights above us. I put it in the pouch at the small of my back,
under my coat. It looks dead but I feel its warmth, just
like the ward against my neck. Bullshit I hear Lycus say. Grass has grown up through the wide flagstone
steps at the front of the building. The forest is nearby to one side, other buildings
line a wide street heading away from it. There are large chunks of fallen masonry all
around. Gaping holes in the buildings. Broken glass and twisted metal. Lots of hiding places. We don’t see or hear any more of the things. Pielo finger-signs all clear and we move forwards,
down the wide steps leading to the street. I can’t relax, though. Feel the tension in the back of my neck. Senses strain for the slightest sight or sound. We’ve left the heavy deer and loot in the
doorway of the Genesynch building. The same logo I saw on the glass is mounted
above the doors. I wonder what this place was. Slowly, we sweep the area. I find nothing apart from a bone, dark red
matter clinging to it still. My first thought is animal but, after what
I’ve seen, I’m not sure any more. Pielo has moved away from me, into the mouth
of a dark alley next to the building. He’s close to the ground. I hear a bird. Begin to relax a little. The sun is going down. The sky is turning pink, the clouds look like
they’re being lit by great fires underneath. I feel my mind drift a little. We fired first. Maybe they wouldn’t have hurt us if we hadn’t. Why did we fire first? Fear. I hear a soft click, over by the alley. My mind snaps back to the present – Pielo
clicks his tongue again. He’s looking in my direction, finger-signing
come. He’s crouched by a small pile of strange
objects in a net. Heavy duty webbing is attached to it to make
handles or shoulder straps. Pielo gently opens the neck of the net, feels
for signs of a trap. Nothing. He moves some of the objects around. There are broken bits of star-shaped eyes,
like the one I have in my pouch. There are other things, too. They look like weapon parts. Finely tooled mechanisms, springs, old electronic
lights and strange scopes. Some things I don’t recognise. They look old but more advanced than anything
I’ve ever seen in the Underground. They might be more at home in the beautiful
room. Pielo closes up the net, moves deeper into
the alley. I bound his cut myself – wrapped some bindleaf
around it that I’d brought with me from the hunter camp and covered that with rough
bandages. I’m no healer, but it looked good. The bandages are dirty already but no blood
is showing through. We’ll probably need to stitch it when we
get back. I see he’s using it sparingly, holding it
close while he combs the ground with his other hand. He stops. His hand against something else. He examines it. Beckons me closer. It’s strange machine: no sharp angles, bulbous. There are switches and a display, but it’s
dark. Pielo tries to lift it but it’s too heavy. I try to help but it’s no good. We’ll need to leave it, for now. The ward at my neck burns (bullshit) and I
feel the star-eye press into my back. I don’t find it hard to walk away. We searched the area until almost all the
sun was beneath the horizon. A shallow dome of brilliant light threw beams
through the ruins of the old city. Dust danced in the light between the shadows. Made it glimmer. We didn’t find anything else. Went back to Genesynch and picked up our gear,
carrying the net and all the broken up pieces together. Made our way back to the camp. Went slow, Pielo with the deer, me with the
net. Both with bags of loot. We didn’t speak, though I thought about
it. I watched him often. I think we’re closer, now. I don’t know what that means. I cried nineteen times. I hope he didn’t see. The hunter camps move often. We never stay in one place for long. The game moves, so we move. There are seven groups of hunters and we share
over twenty hunting spots – Stations we call them – rotating on some schedule that only
Lycus and the group leaders seems to understand. We’ve already moved once since I’ve been
with them. Each spot is different. Our group, Lycus’ group, is currently camped
amongst a cluster of low ruins. Roofs are only a floor or two high – three
at the most. Houses, I think. They seem like houses. Our group is called the Whitemane. Something to do with Lycus’ name or a name
he had, once, or something. There are nine of us. Nine is a good number. Bullshit, it’s just another number. Pielo and Ryman are the only two with apprentices
– me and a boy from Angel. He’s older than I am but I hear Ryman muttering
about him in an impatient tone. I never hear Pielo mutter: though I worry
that he does. We got back before midnight. Every camp has a few markers at its perimeter
to identify it. We passed red and blue flags – strips of cloth,
torn from old clothes, tied to stakes – and slithered down a shallow hill to a blue and
white marker – Lycus’ sign – near one of the two-story buildings. Each camp has a firepit and some basic cots
tucked away in a safe corner. You can’t see the light from outside. A watcher whistled somewhere in the rooftops,
a rising trill. Warning. Pielo answered with a mournful note and a
click of his tongue. Safe, friends. Lycus was out hunting with Iyem so we brought
our finds inside to wait. Buras hands us both a bowl of stew – thin
broth, mainly vegetables grown in a few of the hunting spots with sparse strips of old,
preserved meat. We rarely eat what we bring back. If we do, we butcher it properly. Preserve the meat. Use every part. Make it last. Sometimes, we’ll get gifts back from the
Underground. Jenna was given some bread last time she made
a drop-off. They’ve built new ovens in Holborn. Buras shoves a chunk into my hand. There isn’t much left. No one has asked about the stuff we brought
with us. We’ve left them in an alcove where we store
our gear. The deer has been hung in another room with
some other kills – four rabbits, a few large birds, another deer. The others know better than to ask Pielo about
the bag and the net. He’ll wait for Lycus – he’ll have questions. The others will hear the answers then, too. No one will ask me. I spoon stew into my mouth. It tastes good. Buras cooks more than any of us, though we’re
supposed to take turns. He likes it. He’s got a supply of salt tucked away at
each Station, so he says. He’ll leave tiny packets of it for the other
groups. They’ll leave herbs, mushrooms, vegetables
as a thank you. We rarely have to hunt anything but meat. If someone else finds his salt, our meals
will get far less interesting. The bread is stale, now, but it soaks up the
broth. I smack my lips. Pielo looks over at me and smiles. He looks away before I can smile back. We eat in silence. Pielo scrapes his bowl with a crust that he’s
saved, tucks the crust into his cheek. Sighs quietly. I realise I’m watching him again, look down
at my bowl instead. I’m so hungry I swipe the dregs of broth
from the sides and bottom of the bowl with my finger. Buras has watched us over his shoulder. Takes Pielo’s bowl and mine, spoons a little
more stew into each. “Look like you’ve earned it.” he says, eyes darting to Pielo’s arm, my
leg. I’ve picked up a slight limp, probably during
the fight, I don’t remember. Buras’ voice is deep and gravelly. He looks older than Lycus. He hands out our bowls. I nod my thanks and he winks at me. Pielo eats fast, whipping his spoon into his
mouth, scraping it around the bowl. He raises his chin in my direction. Buras is watching us. I eat fast, too, no time to savour the little
wisps of meat, chunks of vegetable. We hand back our bowls and Buras grins. “Not really supposed to do that.” Pielo takes his hand, shakes it. I put my hand on Buras’ arm, smile at him. “Thanks” I whisper. He nods. Pielo leads us back through the store room
– our bags and the net lie on the floor, untouched – and into the little workshop at the back
of the Station. On the walls, pieces of gear hang on hooks. There’s a stand at the back, clothes and
bits of armour dangle from its pegs. A rack of weapons sits next to it. Our rifles are on it. We pick them up and clean them. Not a full breakdown – just swabbing the barrel,
cleaning off the bolt and checking over the action. Cleaning my rifle means I’m not thinking. Haven’t let myself think the entire time
we’ve been back. We clean up the benches once we’re done. I place my rifle back on the rack and begin
sharpening my knife. I cleaned it quickly back in Genesynch but
there is still some dried blood and matter on the blade. Something is caught in the guard. Something grey and fleshy. I try to pry it out with my finger and it
gets caught under my nail. I flick my hand, suddenly frantic. I don’t want it on me, I don’t want it
on me! I shake harder, slam the back of my hand into
the bench. I drop the knife and clutch my hand to my
breast. Start swearing. Hot tears sting the corners of my eyes. Pielo bends, picks up the knife. He’s just a blurry outline, now. The tears are filling my eyes. They well and spill and I feel ashamed all
over again. Why am I crying? What is wrong with me? I’ve killed before. A couple of deer, some birds and a rabbit
or two. Every one a life taken. I’m no stranger to it. It can’t be that. I shudder and choke on sobs that seem to block
my throat. I’m being too loud, I think, everyone will
hear! It can’t be that, the act of killing. Then what? Because they looked a little like us? Like humans? No. If a human attacked me I’d defend myself. Because we fired first, then? Because we were the attackers? Maybe. Uncertain. They might have killed us without a second’s
hesitation anyway, even if we hadn’t shot at them. Something in the back of my mind tells me
I’m right. I try to remember the fight. They chased us. Sounded angry. Had their weapons drawn already – ready to
fight. Ready to kill. We ran, hid. They came in. We fired. Did it take them long to shoot back? Were they firing anyway? Strange blue light. Alien sounds. Fear. That’s it. I’m afraid. Of them? My first hunt I felt a sort of general fear. Unfocussed. Kind of misty. Wanted to run or fight or something. Back in that room, just a table and a rifle
in between me and death, I felt – nothing. Just a need to survive. I fired. Reloaded. Fired. Killed. I don’t remember fear. Not then. Afterwards, I cried. Held Pielo. Was it the adrenaline? The emotion I kept bottled up while we fought? I don’t think so. I think it was fear then, too. But not fear of the creatures. They were dead, couldn’t hurt us anymore. What’s to be afraid of in a corpse? Nothing. So why was I afraid? There’s a sudden flash of insight, though
it doesn’t feel like mine. You’re afraid of yourself. I am. You don’t know what you can do until you
have to do it. I found out I can kill today. Not just animals – not just defenceless beasts
for food or clothes or tools – I can kill thinking, feeling people too. Is that me? Who are you? I’m not sure I ever knew. Maybe this is me. This is me now. Maybe I’m not who I was. Maybe this is who I’ve got to be. The tears are drying up. Maybe I need to be this. I sense Pielo close by. Maybe they need me to be this. His hand is out in front of him. Reaching to me. I take it. He pulls me close. I fall into him, stay there. I don’t know how long for, but my cheeks
are dry when he pulls us apart, gently, leads me into one of the sleeping rooms. He helps me onto a cot. Strokes my hair. I lay on my side, facing him; try to smile. He looks like he wants to say something. Doesn’t. He sits, cross legged, on the floor next to
me. Holds my hand. All of a sudden I’m tired. Eyes feel heavy. Breathing slow. He pulls a thin blanket over me. I close my eyes. Feel the warmth of his hand. His breath stirs my hair. He mutters something. “Fallen.” I hear, “They’re called the Fallen.” I fall asleep. + AN INTERLUDE IN DREAMS +
…Darkness surrounds me and consumes me I can feel it oppressive cloying squeezing it
fills me up and I choke on it but I’m still alive it won’t let me die it won’t let
go I can’t shake it off… …raise my fists and tear at my face but
all is Darkness… …and I can’t see my fingers I feel the
blood swelling and growing bursting out of deep wounds and the blood is Darkness but
I see something in the distance something tiny something real… …I feel the spark of life in the distance
and the life is a Light gentle comforting yielding and it grows and grows and surrounds
me and covers the Darkness but the Darkness is strong… …I feel the battle raging and I am torn
apart the Light puts me back together but there are deep cracks wounds and Darkness
lurks behind the fragile joins… …the Light wraps itself around me and keeps
me warm and I see everything… …a ball of colour and beauty and life and
death and decay and horror… …and the Darkness gnaws at my gut and I
want to feed it and I eat the Light and it fills me and flows through me and I see my
fingers and push them into the wounds and pull out the Darkness…
…and the Light consumes it and I rise guided by the Light up up up into the colour but
inside me right inside further than skin and muscle and bone and touch and smell and thought
there is a cold hard ball no bigger than the first happening of the first quark of the
first atom of the first universe… …and it is Darkness and the Darkness grows
and the Darkness surrounds me… – FOUR –
Raised voices wake me up. Sweat soaks my clothes. I’m cold. I grab the blanket and pull it around me. I hear Lycus’ low tone: “You’re sure
there weren’t more?” “We swept the immediate area, no sign of
any others.” Pielo. “Tracks led to the building, not away from
it.” “Hmm…” I cross the room, open the door. I don’t try to be quiet. Wish Pielo had woken me when Lycus returned. They both look over at me. Pielo nods and I nod back, a smile twitches
the corners of my mouth. Lycus doesn’t waste time, crosses to me,
pushes me into a seat between them. The small space has been arranged like our
living area back in the Underground. A low table, several mismatched chairs and
repurposed boxes surround it. Battered steel boxes are stacked in the corners
of the room. Supplies. Two doors lead off to the sleeping rooms,
the one I came from and another on the wall to my right. The third door leads back into the main room
where I hear Buras cooking up some more stew for the new arrivals. I hear Seb’s voice – he’s made a kill,
too. A rabbit. Ryman grunts at his youthful excitement. Sebastian’s older than me, but I don’t
feel young anymore. I look down, see the bags and the net on the
floor between the two men. They’re both open. I see the four-arm’s helmet on another chair. Lycus has something in his hand. I can’t see what it is. “You alright?” I’m surprised by Lycus’ question. He’s never before asked that of anyone. Not that I’ve heard. Am I? I nod slowly. “Okay.” he says. “What did you see?” I look across at Pielo. Surely he’s explained already? He raises an eyebrow, lifts his chin towards
me. Finger-signs go on. “Five of them.” I say, my voice is quiet, timid. “Four with two arms. One with four.” I stop for a second, watch Lycus.His face
is blank. “Had weapons but not ones I recognised. Handguns. Four-arm had a bigger weapon, like a shotgun
but… big.” I stretch out my arms, indicating the size
of the weapon. It was too heavy for us to carry with everything
else so we left it at Genesynch. “Weird blue bullets. Like balls of fire.” I can’t believe I’m saying this. It sounds ridiculous. I know it happened but I can’t shake the
feeling that I must be making it up. I go to speak again, falter. “Okay.” Lycus raises his hand, “Tell me what happened.” Pielo looks at his feet. I tell Lycus about the deer. Tell him about the climb and the atrium. About the scream. I stutter again but will myself to carry on. “We fired first.” I say, hoping, I realise, for a response. Lycus doesn’t move, just blinks once or
twice. I tell him about the brief fight. Thinking back now it couldn’t have lasted
longer than a few seconds – ten at most – but it takes me almost a minute to put it together
for him. “Then, when they were-” I stop. The word catches in my throat. I swallow but it’s still there. I breathe slowly. Force it out. “When they were dead, we checked the hallway
to make sure there weren’t more. There weren’t. “We went over the corpses, scavenged what
we could. Brought some of their weapons back. All of the armour. Some cloth. They had knives so we grabbed them. Weird machine parts, too. Everything. “I searched the four-arm. Found something else.” Lycus nods at me to carry on. “I don’t know what it is. I kept it in my pouch. Like a little star. It was-” I don’t know why I’m telling
him this. “It felt warm.” Lycus turns his back to me. “We found more.” I raise my voice a little. “Broken ones. In the net they left outside. Pieces…” I look across at Pielo but he’s watching
Lycus. The old hunter is turning something over in
his hands. He’s holding the star, I know it. Of all the things we found he wants to know
about that. Why? “Anything else?” Lycus’ voice is quieter, now. Distant. “There was a… machine. Something. It was roundish. About this high.” I gesture with my hand but Lycus still has
his back to me. “About three feet high. It had a screen. We couldn’t make it work. Couldn’t lift it, just the two of us.” “Could you find it again?” “Yes.” The trail was pretty easy to follow. Through the old city, outside of the centre,
about ten miles from the river. I’d know the building when I saw it, right
next to the forest, its neighbor leaning up against it. “Pielo,” Lycus’ voice is almost a whisper,
“go and tell the others to pack up and get ready to move. We’re going together.” Pielo hesitates for a moment. “Where?” he asks. Back, I think. “To find your machine. Then we have to go into the Underground. The Circus.” Pielo nods and goes to find the rest of the
hunters. Lycus follows him to the door, shuts it. Now it’s just him and me. He sits down in the chair opposite mine. He’s playing with the star. Turning it over and over in his hands. He grunts – almost a laugh. Holds out the star to me. “Do you know what this is?” How would I know? I shake my head. “I’ve not seen one of these in a long,
long time. I was a different person, then.” He looks at me. It’s not a glance. It’s like he knows how I’m feeling. Maybe he does. That’s not a happy thought. Lycus gets up. Starts pacing. “It’s called a Ghost.” he says. “They’re machines. Helpers. Menders. Searchers. Little gods.” He tosses the star – the Ghost – into the
air and snatches it back to his chest. He cradles it. Strokes it. “Mine found me, long time ago. Brought me back.” Back from where? I think. Here? “Usually, they find you. But, this time, you found it.” He holds it out again. Motions for me to take it. I can see his eyes sparkling – he’s excited. “It’s dead.” I say, taking the Ghost. Fitting name, I think. “What do you mean?” he asks. Sounds like Gammer. I get the feeling I’m about to be taught
something. “It’s dead,” I repeat, “doesn’t
work.” Lycus tilts his head on one side. “How do you know that?” “The front.” I point to the little eye. “Looks like it should light up. The light’s gone out.” While I’m talking I realise that I don’t
know how I know all of that. It seemed logical to assume that the eye was
the front – the back of the ball is blank, apart from a small slot – and I’d seen things
light up before if they worked. Simmo’s little electrical toys all had a
light on them. The Ghost looked like it should light up so… “No light means dead.” Lycus interrupts my train of thought. Almost exactly the words I was going to use. I shrink back into my chair a little. Can he read minds? No. Who is he? “You’re right, of course.” He sits down on the box next to me. “This little ghost has almost no Light left. Almost.” Light? I think. What has light got to do with anything? Looks like it needs a good current running
through it. I turn it over and over in my hands. It begins to feel warm, again. It’s been damaged, this Ghost. The shell is pitted and scarred. Slivers of dull grey paint have chipped off,
revealing shining metal beneath. The eight points – flat topped, like the end
of a flared prism – surround the eyeball. There’s a lens at the front; two chevrons
and a circle between them makes the eye. I feel the heat of it, rising. Suddenly I remember the first time I went
Overground; the sun peeking from behind a thick cloud, that immediate warmth flowing
over me. Happiness. That’s how the Ghost feels. Like a memory of sunlight. Lycus has been watching me. He’s not moved. I hold the Ghost in both hands. I want to protect it. “Can we make it work?” I sound like a child, I think. This isn’t a broken toy. It’s… something else. Something real. Lycus tilts his head from side to side. “I think so.” He puts a hand on my arm. He’s not wearing any gloves. His hand is covered with hair-fine scars. There’s an angry old burn mark below his
little finger. “We’ll need to go and see a friend of
mine, back in the Underground.” He looks me in the eyes. Suddenly, I’m not afraid of him. I feel something of the Ghost’s warmth in
his touch. Realise it’s the same thing I felt from
the first time he touched me – brushing his fingers across my hands. “Are you okay?” “No.” I say. “I don’t know what happened. What those things were.Why did we kill them?” Pielo knew. I think. He knew what they were called. He’s seen them before. “They’re not from our planet.” Lycus voice is gentle, quiet. “They’re called the Fallen. They would have killed you. You and Pielo did the right thing, firing
first.” “How did i not know about them?” Because no one in the Underground knows. “We…” He hesitates, “We don’t tell people in
the Underground about them. Can you imagine what would happen? Panic doesn’t even begin to describe it. “Sure, there are stories. The older ones remember their grandparents
telling them about monsters on the surface; the battles; the fires. But that’s all they are. To them, the Fallen are just monsters in stories. It’s safer that way.” “Pielo knew what they were.” “He did.” Lycus pauses. Remembering. “He surprised a group of them on his first
hunt. They nearly killed him. I had to step in. Saved his life.” He’s not proud. It was necessary for him to save Pielo. To kill the Fallen. He’s done it before. “They’re scavengers. Pirates. Been here for hundreds of years. They followed the Traveller.” That old myth? I think. But Lycus sounds sincere. “They wanted to get it back. They’re jealous of humanity – of the Traveller’s
Light.” “The Traveller’s real?” I ask. Gammer used to tell stories – stories her
grandmother told her. About a bright, white ball that came one day,
full of magic and lies. It made the people love it. Gave them gifts, made them stronger. Then, when a great darkness fell over the
world and all was ruin and calamity, it failed to protect us as we thought it would. And humanity never recovered. I’m disgusted by the thought of it. It seems so wrong for something like that
to actually exist. Lycus must see it in my face. “Just like your father.” He smiles and shakes his head. “The Traveller is real. But it isn’t what you think.” He holds up a hand to silence my reply. “No; you’ve heard old stories. Bitter tales. Jealous lies. The Traveller is good.” He pauses again. Looks down at the floor, then at the Ghost
in my hands. “It has to be. It made the Ghosts. The Ghosts made the Guardians. The Guardians protect the City. The world. All of… us.” He was going to say ‘you’. I know the thought is true. I don’t know how. “You might even see it one day.” He smiles – it’s forced. He raises his hood, hiding his eyes. “Enough. We have to go.” Lycus pats my knee – the heat is gone now. He stands up and stretches out his back. “You did the right thing. You must protect your Light.” he says, over his shoulder. “We’ll leave when you’re ready.” He leaves me here, the Ghost in my hands,
wondering what is happening to me. Ghosts. The Fallen. The Traveller. Light. Just like your father. The world doesn’t feel real any more.

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33 thoughts on “Destiny audio book (Chapter 3 and Chapter 4) | Myelin Games

  1. Really enjoying these destiny audiobooks. So nice to listen to while doing my summer assignments XD looking forward to the next chapters

  2. I just finished listening to the podcast on iTunes and had to rush over here to say how much I enjoy listening to it, thanks Myelin for exposing me to such a compelling story, loving every moment thus far.

  3. Judging from some of the comments on these vids, Myelin is going to have to do a lore theory & breakdown of the story once it's all done! 😀

    Great work again, squire, thank you so much!

  4. Hi Myelin, this question is unrelated to this video but I don't have a Twitter account and I'm at work.Do you think the Speaker has been captured as means to communicate with the traveler ? I would have done it if I were Ghaul.

  5. Myelin Games Love your stuff man. I hope they add onto the lore in destiny 2 so we can get more of your content. If you ever need a voice actor or just some b-roll footage I'm down.

  6. Yeah, must be good, it made the city, where these people don't get to live. Great benefactor of mankind, leaving these people to scrape and grind.

  7. +Myelin this is amazing. Your voice narrating Mr. Bruce's work is spot on. I will be definitely be relistening to this as the years go on….so in short Thank you Myelin and Mr Bruce

  8. Myelin games these are great i think you should add some sounds and stuff from the destiny game itself like fallen, guns shooting ect it makes the story more dramatic as you narrate. Just a friendly suggestion

  9. Is this destiny???? Like bungies destiny? Or another book? It's good but there's no mention of bungies destiny enemy's :/

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