HOME | DD

Description
It was always meant to be their burden, Harbinger thought. (No. Not burden) they immediately corrected. (Duty. Honour. But never a burden.)

The hallway they strode down did not exist, except within the fractal planes of their own gestalt, and the room it led to was no different. A small fiction, but necessary.

For the first time in a billion years, since the Catalyst had processed the first of their kind from it's own people, the Gardeners had a new Guide. (It had mattered little to Harbinger that the Harvest called them "Reapers". What did it matter what the fruit called the one who plucked it from the tree of life? But it was not what they called themselves, when the previous Guide had allowed them that luxury. Never what they called themselves.) The new Guide was a precious, fragile thing that needed to be nurtured, protected.

And while Regent and Watcher had assisted, there was never any doubt that it would be Harbinger who would carry it until they found a new home.

~~

The room had a broad window, looking out into the vastness of space, their fellow Gardeners shadows moving through the darkness. Harbinger corrected their form. Tall, human male. Black clothes sweeping across the subtle rainbows that danced beneath the floor. Black hair, thick and wavy, catching the dim blue lights from the painted stars that decorated the walls and the real ones beyond.

It was a face that he had pulled from the Guide's very heart when they had joined, and it had been the only thing that had calmed him in those first, terrifying moments when Harbinger thought they and the organics both would be wiped out in the birthing cries of the newborn Guide.

"You did not eat your supper." He said kindly, clear brown eyes crinkling slightly in a small, human smile as he crouched down. He knelt near where the child sat beside the glass, watching the stars. Subsistence was necessary, Harbinger fretted. They fed on dark matter and energy, and without it, the Guide would die and the child had so much work ahead. He reached out and stroked the messy scruff of the boy's hair. "Are you feeling unwell?"

The child hugged the stuffed rabbit to his chest and looked around the room. A mural of the child, smiling with balloons in the form of their shipbodies made a dark corner more friendly. (Watcher's idea, like the rainbow floors and the soft cushions that littered them. The innusannon had been a species of great aesthetic skill in their cycle) "Harbinger?" The boy asked, blue eyes like a sun themselves. "Who did this belong to?" he asked as he plucked at the sleeve of his shirt- a soft, black, hooded thing. Bold stripes of red and white down one arm. The shirt had no more reality than the room or the toys or the pleasant murals on the wall. But it was firmly fixed in the consciousness of the Guide, and it made little sense to break him of it.

Harbinger scooped him up, standing to look out the window as the other shipbodies sailed through the stars. "It belonged to what you once were, my little Shepard." He said as the boy laid his head upon Harbinger's shoulders. "The only individual being I learned the name of in millions of years. My most cherished, beloved one."

Harbinger rocked him, leaning his chin on the child's head. "At times, I thought it impossible that there could be one tiny creature in all of our garden that could vex me so intensely. And quite frequently, I wished him very, very dead."

"Dead?" The child frowned and Harbinger laughed. It had taken practice, this particular chuckle with the low rasp to it, the catch of breath that proceeded it. But it was worth it.

"Extremely dead. I couldn't believe that I wanted such a tiny thing so very dead. But at the same time I was fascinated by him. He was.. unique and quite precious. And as our harvest time grew closer, and the Guide sent us forth, this one little *magnificently* irritating speck, who refused to die no matter what I did, changed everything."

"He changed everything. I changed everything?" The Shepard asked, peering up at Harbinger with another little frown.

"Yes. You opened the gate of the Garden and showed us the path out, a path we have not known in a billion years." Harbinger watched the stars as he stroked the child's hair. "You destroyed the old Guide, and became the Shepard - the new. I know you don't remember everything yet. I understand it was quite traumatic, suddenly becoming one with all of us." He added with that same chuckle.

"Regent says you're sentimental." The Shepard tucked in closer. "and that I have to grow up soon."

"You have all the time in the universe, little Shepard." Harbinger said. "Many of us may not survive the journey. But we *will* follow the path you set for us, and when you are ready, I will make you a new shipbody of your very own, from the heart of a star. Would you like that?"

The child nodded, wrapping his arms around Harbinger's neck. "Then eat. And grow. And become. And lead us into the dark space and the roads beyond that only you can see, my Shepard."

Description
It was always meant to be their burden, Harbinger thought. (No. Not burden) they immediately corrected. (Duty. Honour. But never a burden.)

The hallway they strode down did not exist, except within the fractal planes of their own gestalt, and the room it led to was no different. A small fiction, but necessary.

For the first time in a billion years, since the Catalyst had processed the first of their kind from it's own people, the Gardeners had a new Guide. (It had mattered little to Harbinger that the Harvest called them "Reapers". What did it matter what the fruit called the one who plucked it from the tree of life? But it was not what they called themselves, when the previous Guide had allowed them that luxury. Never what they called themselves.) The new Guide was a precious, fragile thing that needed to be nurtured, protected.

And while Regent and Watcher had assisted, there was never any doubt that it would be Harbinger who would carry it until they found a new home.

~~

The room had a broad window, looking out into the vastness of space, their fellow Gardeners shadows moving through the darkness. Harbinger corrected their form. Tall, human male. Black clothes sweeping across the subtle rainbows that danced beneath the floor. Black hair, thick and wavy, catching the dim blue lights from the painted stars that decorated the walls and the real ones beyond.

It was a face that he had pulled from the Guide's very heart when they had joined, and it had been the only thing that had calmed him in those first, terrifying moments when Harbinger thought they and the organics both would be wiped out in the birthing cries of the newborn Guide.

"You did not eat your supper." He said kindly, clear brown eyes crinkling slightly in a small, human smile as he crouched down. He knelt near where the child sat beside the glass, watching the stars. Subsistence was necessary, Harbinger fretted. They fed on dark matter and energy, and without it, the Guide would die and the child had so much work ahead. He reached out and stroked the messy scruff of the boy's hair. "Are you feeling unwell?"

The child hugged the stuffed rabbit to his chest and looked around the room. A mural of the child, smiling with balloons in the form of their shipbodies made a dark corner more friendly. (Watcher's idea, like the rainbow floors and the soft cushions that littered them. The innusannon had been a species of great aesthetic skill in their cycle) "Harbinger?" The boy asked, blue eyes like a sun themselves. "Who did this belong to?" he asked as he plucked at the sleeve of his shirt- a soft, black, hooded thing. Bold stripes of red and white down one arm. The shirt had no more reality than the room or the toys or the pleasant murals on the wall. But it was firmly fixed in the consciousness of the Guide, and it made little sense to break him of it.

Harbinger scooped him up, standing to look out the window as the other shipbodies sailed through the stars. "It belonged to what you once were, my little Shepard." He said as the boy laid his head upon Harbinger's shoulders. "The only individual being I learned the name of in millions of years. My most cherished, beloved one."

Harbinger rocked him, leaning his chin on the child's head. "At times, I thought it impossible that there could be one tiny creature in all of our garden that could vex me so intensely. And quite frequently, I wished him very, very dead."

"Dead?" The child frowned and Harbinger laughed. It had taken practice, this particular chuckle with the low rasp to it, the catch of breath that proceeded it. But it was worth it.

"Extremely dead. I couldn't believe that I wanted such a tiny thing so very dead. But at the same time I was fascinated by him. He was.. unique and quite precious. And as our harvest time grew closer, and the Guide sent us forth, this one little *magnificently* irritating speck, who refused to die no matter what I did, changed everything."

"He changed everything. I changed everything?" The Shepard asked, peering up at Harbinger with another little frown.

"Yes. You opened the gate of the Garden and showed us the path out, a path we have not known in a billion years." Harbinger watched the stars as he stroked the child's hair. "You destroyed the old Guide, and became the Shepard - the new. I know you don't remember everything yet. I understand it was quite traumatic, suddenly becoming one with all of us." He added with that same chuckle.

"Regent says you're sentimental." The Shepard tucked in closer. "and that I have to grow up soon."

"You have all the time in the universe, little Shepard." Harbinger said. "Many of us may not survive the journey. But we *will* follow the path you set for us, and when you are ready, I will make you a new shipbody of your very own, from the heart of a star. Would you like that?"

The child nodded, wrapping his arms around Harbinger's neck. "Then eat. And grow. And become. And lead us into the dark space and the roads beyond that only you can see, my Shepard."