The level that the courtroom was on housed other administrative offices, but they also had a bustling food court. Humans and Guardians rubbed elbows, drinking different flavors of tea or the more expensive coffee, and devouring donuts by the truckload.

Ivaran, Silvan, Claney, and Caelan-5 grabbed a table, where they sat in relative silence, listening to the crowd's talk around them.

Zavala happened by, dressed in gleaming parade armor, his blue face grim. He halted beside their table and scanned their faces. "Ivaran Nerisis?"

Ivaran's heart sank. He'd been expecting something like this. He rose to his feet. "Yes sir?"

"I need to speak to you. Alone."

Silvan jumped to her feet. "You're not taking Dad to jail, are you? He hasn't done anything wrong!"

Zavala looked down at her and his expression softened somewhat. "Your father will not be harmed, little one. This relates to the trial. I will speak to you later."

Silvan gulped and sat back down.

Ivaran walked with the commander, out of the food court and back to the courtroom. It seemed strange to have to defer to the other Awoken. The last time Ivaran had seen Zavala, he had merely been another Titan being trained under Saladin. Ivaran had run training exercises with Zavala, fought alongside him at Six Fronts, and swung a hammer beside him for hours as they built the City. And now, because of Lysander, Zavala and Ivaran were estranged. It was an uncomfortable feeling.

Zavala said nothing until they entered one of the courtroom's side chambers, where a table and a few chairs were folded against the walls. Both Titans opted to stand.

"Ivaran Nerisis," Zavala said, facing him and lifting his chin. "Its been a long time. Like Lysander, you too have broken an exile order. However, you brought us valuable intelligence and fought for the City, shedding blood in her defense."

Ivaran nodded.

Zavala drew a deep breath. "Would you be willing to testify in this Lysander case?"

Ivaran shifted his weight uneasily. "The rest of the exiles could testify just as easily. We all knew his plan."

Zavala studied him, his blue eyes glowing in his stern face. "But you resisted on account of your daughter."

"Yes sir."

Zavala studied him a moment, then shook his head a little. "I thought you'd changed, Nerisis. I couldn't believe it when you stood with Lysander at Bannerfall. And now, here you are. Do you still support him?"

Ivaran looked away from his old friend for a moment, gathering his thoughts. He met Zavala's gaze again. "I still support some of the Concordat's ideals. But Lysander ... I don't know, sir. Exile hasn't been good for him. I'll testify if I must, but he's already pleaded guilty."

"I need you to testify about why we should spare his life," Zavala said in a low voice.

Ivaran blinked.

Zavala raised a hand. "Hear me out. We lost over five thousand Guardians yesterday. Over five thousand. Our numbers were already down after the Great Disaster, and now this. I cannot send one more Guardian to his final death, no matter how dangerous he may be. I am the acting head of the Consensus in this matter, because the Speaker cannot judge with impartiality. Reason with the Consensus. Convince them to spare him."

Ivaran pinched the bridge of his nose. "Zavala, you're giving me the ugly job."

Zavala only gazed at him and said nothing.

Ivaran gathered his scattered thoughts and tried to put them together. "He must be punished. What should I push for? Exile?"

Zavala nodded. "Off-planet, I think. Venus or Mars, where he has a chance to survive. But he won't be able to return to Earth for a while. Perhaps survival will give him other things to think about."

Ivaran considered this. He could argue for a lesser sentence. Plea for a chance for rehabilitation for the Guardian eaten up by jealousy. Personally, he didn't think Lysander would ever change, but he saw Zavala's point of view. He, too, was sick of killing and death. Too many Guardians and Ghosts had died.

But there was another part of him that whispered that Lysander and his ghost deserved to die, crushed by a falling AA gun and buried in the foundation of the shattered wall.

"The Consensus may pass an execution sentence anyway," Ivaran warned.

Zavala nodded. "I am aware. All I'm asking is for you to try."

Ivaran hesitated and turned his mind toward his ghost. "Sunrise?"

He felt her indecision. Then, slowly, she said, "He's asking you to do a decent thing, Ivaran. Lysander is not a good man. But he is a Guardian."

Even though he didn't want to do it, Ivaran focused on Zavala. "I'll try to talk them down. But no guarantees."

"Agreed," Zavala replied.

Silvan studied her father when he returned to the table in the food court. "What did he want?"

Their companions eyed Ivaran curiously, as well.

He smiled briefly. "I'm to testify in this case of Lysander's. Just a few details, before they pass a verdict."

"Details, man, details!" exclaimed Cayde.

Ivaran shook his head and bit into a donut.

Silvan watched him and said nothing. He was steeling his nerve for some unpleasant task, she was sure. Just so long as they hadn't exiled him again - that was what she feared most.

A bell rang to signal the end of court recess. Everyone streamed back toward the courtroom, talking and carrying drinks. Ivaran split off from their little party and went into the courtroom. Silvan reluctantly followed the two Exos and other Titan back to the observation deck.

A single Awoken woman was already sitting there, her Hunters cloak pulled around her. Claney and Caelan-5 greeted her warmly, and so did Cayde-6.

"Yuna!" Silvan exclaimed. "Can I sit by you?"

"Yes, of course," Yuna replied, pushing back her hood. Her jet black hair was freshly combed and pinned back, making a stark contrast with her pale, blue-tinged skin. Her yellow eyes scrutinized Silvan as the girl sat down.

Silvan stared at her for a long moment. "When I grow up, will I be as pretty as you are?"

Claney coughed suddenly.

Yuna glared at him, then smiled at Silvan. "Very likely. We Awoken tend toward the beautiful side. It's in our blood."

"Oh good." Silvan glanced out at the courtroom, looking for her father. "Do you like my dad?"

Yuna's smile vanished. She didn't answer.

Silvan peered at her. "You used to be friends, right? Then he got exiled. But that's a good thing, or I never would have found him."

"It's more about why he was exiled," Yuna said quietly. "He did bad things for Lysander. Things I believed he'd never do."

"He doesn't like Lysander anymore."

"No?" Yuna clenched her jaw. "Then why is he out there talking to him and his lawyer?"

Silvan looked. Sure enough, Ivaran in his Vanguard Titan armor was talking to Lysander and his lawyer. Lysander's face was set in an expression of hate and a sort of savage triumph.

"Lysander doesn't like Dad," Silvan said. "Look at him. If he was a wolf, he'd bite Dad's throat."

"I wonder what's happening," Claney said from the seats in front of them. "Zavala had a private chat with Ivaran a few minutes ago. I thought he wanted Ivaran to give testimony."

Yuna clenched her fists in her lap. "We'll see if the little fanboy has changed his ways."

Silvan gave her a questioning look. "You mean Dad? Lysander tried to take me away. And Dad punched him with lightning. Bam, like that."

Yuna suddenly grinned and bent her head, as if holding back laughter.

Silvan smiled, too, not quite understanding what was so funny.

Down in the courtroom, the Vanguard commanders and Consensus leaders took their seats. Ivaran remained standing beside Lysander and his lawyer, but his stance was angled away from them, as if wishing to put every inch of distance between them that he could.

The lawyer spoke first. "Honorable Consensus. This Titan, Ivaran Nerisis, has come forward to explain more about Lysander's point of view. Before you pass sentence, please hear him out." The lawyer bowed slightly to Ivaran, indicating his turn to speak.

Ivaran bowed to the Consensus in their raised seats. "Uh, hello. I was asked to explain to you why Lysander has acted this way. And ... to tell the truth, I don't know."

Lysander and his lawyer glared at Ivaran.

Ivaran went on, ignoring them. "But what I do know is this. The Concordat was trying to accomplish a good thing. Our vision was to bridge humanity and the Traveler, and bring Light to everyone, not just Guardians. I still believe in that. I still believe that we Guardians were intended as a blessing upon our planet, and not its scourge."

The City leaders gazed at him in silence.

Ivaran drew a deep breath and straightened his shoulders. "This was Lysander's vision. But many others disagreed - not with his vision, but with his methods. That's what sparked the Faction Wars. Espionage became street fighting. Many lives were lost that I regret to this day. I followed Lysander into exile and bear my own burden of guilt. There, I watched his mind begin to turn."

The Consensus stirred and muttered, looking at Lysander. Lysander went pale, then a red flush crept into his cheeks. He clenched both fists.

"This Twilight Gap conflict is a sign of how his mind has decayed," Ivaran went on without looking at him. "I beg you, Consensus, show mercy to a Guardian who once served the Light. Grant him a shot at rehabilitation. Exile him if you must, but spare his life. No more Guardians should die."

Lysander hissed and seemed to swell with rage. His lawyer spoke to him, but Lysander ignored him. Before Ivaran could even turn around, Lysander summoned a handful of fiery knives made of Light and drove them into Ivaran's back.

Silvan screamed. The others on the observation deck yelled and groped for their weapons.

Down in the courtroom, the Vanguard leaders rose from their seats, weapons appearing in their hands. Ivaran staggered and nearly fell, but caught himself. He spun around in time to shield himself from Lysander's fire-charged fist.

Guards converged on the struggle, grabbing Lysander and zapping him with tasers. Lysander left Ivaran and brawled with the guards, throwing fire in their faces and knocking one of them flat. Then they overpowered him and wrestled him to the floor.

Another guard approached Ivaran and escorted him hastily from the courtroom. A moment later, they arrived in the observation deck, Ivaran limping and bleeding from under his armor. The guard helped him to a seat, aided by Cayde and Claney.

"Dad!" Silvan cried, climbing over seats to reach him. "He stabbed you bad!"

"I know," Ivaran gasped. He was breathing heavily, and flecks of blood spattered his lips. "Just a minute."

His ghost appeared and opened her core, bathing him in Light. Ivaran closed his eyes and took in the healing, his breathing growing easier. After a moment, he wiped his mouth and coughed to clear his airways. "Thanks," he whispered hoarsely. "I didn't expect him to jump me."

"You had the gall to call him crazy," Claney said, placing himself between the window and Ivaran. "He's not doing himself any favors. They're dragging him out and he's still fighting."

"Dad," Silvan whispered, afraid to touch him until his healing was done. "He tried to kill you."

Ivaran nodded. "He proved my point, I'm afraid."

The guard retreated from the room. "Stay here, sir," he said as he left. "They'll want to talk to you."

Ivaran nodded and simply concentrated on breathing. His ghost closed her shell and floated close beside him, her shell brushing his left ear.

"What the heck class is Lysander?" Cayde said. "He used Hunter knives and some kind of Titan punch just now."

"He used to be a warlock," Ivaran said. "But while we were in exile, he had his men teach him other Light powers. 'It's all the same source,' he would say. 'Why can't I use the Light for anything?'"

Silvan listened closely. "Anybody can learn all the powers?"

"Sure," Ivaran said. "If you're willing to spend the time. The Vanguard will train you in the discipline where your Light is the strongest, but you can take your training much further. Plenty of Guardians have been what they call multiclass." He caught her smile and pointed a finger at her. "You concentrate on one discipline at a time, young lady. I'm not having any half-warlock half-hunters running around."

"Hey," Cayde said. "I wouldn't mind a half-Hunter."

Down in the courtroom, things had settled down. Zavala smoothed things over and dismissed the Consensus for the day. They would return tomorrow for a verdict. Lysander would be taken back to his cell and placed under guard, his ghost restrained.

Claney, Caelan-5, and Cayde-6 departed, promising to check in with Ivaran and Silvan later. Soon the observation deck was empty, except for them and Yuna.

Yuna moved up to sit in the front row of seats, near Ivaran, but not too near. Ivaran watched her. "When did you get here?"

"A while ago," she replied. "What made you think you could call Lysander insane and get away with it?"

"I was asked to try to soften his sentence," Ivaran confessed. "He's pretty much given himself the death penalty, at this point."

Yuna studied him, her eyes glowing like a cat's. "Was asked, or volunteered?"

"Was asked," Ivaran replied.

A long silence followed. Silvan looked from her father, to Yuna, and back, trying to understand this tension between them. Ivaran put his arm around Silvan and patted her shoulder. "We'll take the afternoon off after this. Maybe go down to the City, do something fun. Show you how to skate at an ice rink, maybe."

"What's that?" Silvan asked, eyes widening.

Ivaran described ice skating. Yuna watched and listened in silence, but her stony expression faded. She began to merely look sad.

The courtroom below slowly emptied. Once everyone was gone, the door to the observation deck opened. In came Commander Zavala, Ikora Rey, Andal Brask, and the Speaker in his bloodied robes.

"Looks like I'm in trouble," Ivaran said, standing up hastily and saluting.

"At ease, Nerisis," Ikora said, pulling out a chair. She sat down facing him. Andal Brask did the same, but Zavala and the Speaker remained standing.

So did Ivaran. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I wanted to apologize," Zavala said in a low voice. "I underestimated Lysander. He's a madman."

"You got that right," Andal Brask said, pulling out a hunting knife, tossing it and catching it. "Should have put a bullet in his ghost a long time ago."

Zavala gave him a sharp look. "No more Guardians will die today, Brask."

"No, but tomorrow is an option," Ikora said with a faint smile. "But that's not what we're here to talk about."

The Speaker cleared his throat. "Ivaran Nerisis, I've taken a look at your file. You fought for Lysander at Bannerfall and were exiled because of it. Correct?"

Ivaran nodded. He had been dreading this conversation.

"It wasn't just the fighting," Zavala said. "You intentionally killed humans and Guardians."

Ivaran nodded again. Silvan gave him a wide-eyed look that hurt him. She'd never see him the same way after this.

Ikora said, "Your exile order was signed by Osiris. But he's been gone for many years, and leadership has changed. The Faction Wars would never happen under current laws. And this battle has changed things, too."

"What we're trying to say is," Andal Brask broke in, "we're willing to lift your order of exile."

Ivaran brightened. "Really?"

The four Vanguard leaders nodded.

"You attempted to warn me of Lysander's intent," the Speaker said. "It's my own fault he caught me off guard. We've analyzed your actions since your arrival. You've done nothing but work against Lysander. Is that correct?"

"Yes," Ivaran replied. "I had begun to doubt him years ago, but when Silvan, here, was resurrected ... I realized that I want a better life for her. I won't find that in the wilds."

"Yes, Silvan," Zavala said, turning his glowing blue eyes on her. "The youngest Guardian I've ever seen."

"Strange that a ghost would choose a child," Ikora said. "Ghost, manifest, please."

Bramble appeared beside Silvan in his broken shell, staying close beside her like a protective bird. "My name is Bramble," he told the Vanguard.

Ikora smiled. "Pleased to meet you, Bramble. Can you explain why your Chosen is so young?"

"She died young," Bramble replied. "I didn't know she was a child when I found her spark. All I knew was that she was mine. Her Light is as strong as any adult Guardian's. She just needs training."

"And Dad thinks I'm going to be a warlock," Silvan burst in. She had been admiring Ikora's robes and stately bearing. "Could you train me? Please? And do I get a robe like that?"

Ikora smiled, and Zavala and Andal chuckled.

"Hold your horses, kid," Andal Brask said. "We'll test your Light in a while. What we're worried about is whether you'll be a kid forever."

Silvan's face fell.

"Bramble," Ikora said, "have you been collecting data on your Guardian's health patterns? We need to know if she's growing."

"Yes," Bramble replied. "Let me assemble the data real quick." He vanished.

"I might be a kid forever?" Silvan said blankly. "Why wouldn't I grow up?"

"Guardians are immortal," Zavala said. "We do not age, owing to a ghost's constant healing. This may be troublesome for a child who is not yet matured."

Silvan groped for her father's hand and clutched it tight. Her glowing freckles faded and her cheeks paled. He stroked her red hair with his other hand.

Bramble reappeared and projected a hologram into the air. "Okay, here's her data. I put it into a nice graph."

The graph only had a few months of data on it, but in that time, Silvan had gained two pounds and grown a quarter of an inch. The lines on the chart trended gently upward.

"Ah," Ikora said. "So she is growing."

"Or getting fat," Bramble said with a laugh. "But she's getting fat in a vertical direction."

Silvan was too scared to laugh, even though his humor touched her reassuringly through their bond.

The Vanguard studied the chart, producing their ghosts to analyze it. At last, Zavala said, "Ivaran Nerisis, we understand your right to raise your daughter. We would prefer that she remain in the Tower, where she can be trained and educated. In light of this, and your actions in service of the City, I hereby lift your exile order." His ghost displayed an image of the order, with null and void stamped across it.

Ivaran's eyes suddenly felt uncomfortably moist. He was no longer exiled. He was being welcomed home. "Thank you," he said, his voice cracking.

Zavala overlooked this. "Now, you and your daughter go down the hall to the housing office. We ... regrettably ... have a large number of apartments coming available. You'll have your pick of locations."

Ivaran nodded. "Thank you, sir."

The Vanguard nodded and filed out. Once they were gone, Ivaran hugged Silvan, pressing his cheek against her hair. "We get to stay here, sweetheart."

"I'm glad," Silvan said, hugging him back. "I want to live here. But I miss our cabin. And the goats. And the woods."

"Plenty of those around," Ivaran said, laughing suddenly. "You'll get your fill on patrols."

Yuna cleared her throat. Ivaran and Silvan turned to her.

Yuna's expression had changed. She leaned toward them, cautious, but hopeful. "Ivaran ... after you're settled ... would you mind having dinner with me sometime?"

Ivaran blushed until he was nearly magenta. He cleared his throat twice before he could speak. "I'd ... I'd like that very much."

Lysander was sentenced to exile on Venus, but first he had to spend three months in rehab under the Praxic Order. He seemed stable enough when he was left on Venus with a generous amount of supplies. But when a Guardian patrol checked on him a few months later, Lysander had disappeared into the jungle ruins and could not be found.

Ivaran and Silvan took a spacious apartment in the Tower living areas and filled it with secondhand furniture. Ivaran planned to find a woodworking shop and build new tables and cabinets. Silvan began warlock training, and on weekdays, a tutor came to catch up her education.

Bramble's shell was finally replaced with a pretty violet shell, all smooth curves, so Silvan could hug him easier. "But I liked being spiky," he said with mock mournfulness. In reality, he'd have traded any number of shells for those hugs from his beloved Chosen.

Ivaran and Yuna had dinner together, not once, but many times as they repaired the tattered remains of their relationship. Silvan was glad of this and secretly hoped to have Yuna as a mother someday.

The City recovered from the Battle of Twilight Gap, as it came to be known. The breach in the wall was repaired and reinforced. The neighborhoods that had been damaged by kamakazie attack were rebuilt. Life resumed, peaceful under the watchful eyes of the Guardians.

Saint-14 hunted down Kell Solkis of the House of Devils a few months later. Deep in the Kell's own lair, Saint-14 fought him hand to hand and killed him with a headbutt to the face. After that, nothing much was heard from the House of Devils for many years.

Kell Craask of the House of Kings went into hiding. Shamed, his power broken, he would later shelter the lost Awoken Prince, two members of disgraced royalty seeking solidarity together.

Humanity had a little more hope for the future.

The end