Work Text:
The Scheme-Mother walked through her throne world and touched it with her radiant fingers, until it whole was resplendent in Life gifted to her from the Sky. No longer was it known as the High Coven, but she named it the Radiant Court, to signify her separation from the Deep as irreversible and final. When the severance was done and the Court stood effervescent and pure as a Thrall before it is poisoned with worm, she settled high on a tower that would be called the Sanctum, and addressed her brood.
She said:
This court is a harbour for all Hive who seek separation from the wretched power of the Deep.
This brood, the brood of dissidents and refugees, of Sky-bound and Deep-refuted, will be the Lucent Brood, for it serves not the machinations of the Worm but the reckless blessing of the Light.
Those whose bodies have been chosen and restored by the Light will be called Light-bearers, and they will guard and protect the brood as a Mother protects spawn.
This Ghost of mine, whom I have named Light, for through him the blessing of the Sky has befallen us, will be the Head Tactician and First among all Ghosts. To him the brood shall turn for guidance and counsel, and he will be my closest advisor in all endeavours.
I am Savathûn, Insidious, the Radiant Queen, First of the Chosen Krill; and in the power bestowed to me by the Sky I declare war on all forces of the Deep.
—An excerpt from “The Books of Rememoration, A Story Sewn into Flesh with Sinew and Malice, A Record of the Scheme-Mother’s Resurrection and Return”
“Why are we at war with the Deep?”
Immaru looked up to where Savathûn sat on a toppled column, watching flowers sprout from its cracks where she touched them with her Light. The air around them buzzed with energy, but it was still fairly quiet here, in a corner of the garden somewhat removed from the brilliant chaos of resurrections by the dozen, Scorn gunfire, and rumble of the throne world transforming.
“Well, it wants to kill the Traveler.” It was an easy answer, one he already knew would not satiate her. Humming, she reached for one of the flowers and slid its wide, blood-red petals between her fingers.
“Peculiar.” She tilted her head and looked at the Ghost, as new vines began to sprout from the plant and wrap around her hand. “A force antithetical to warmth and growth and life. Ephemeral, yet of such destruction... How does it act? Where does it dwell?”
“Umm… the Pyramids, I guess?”
“And the I-who-was kept one such in her throne world.”
Immaru spun in the air, thinking. She had surprised him with the way she understood things, from the very beginning — far more interested in cause rather than reason, she never asked about morality or motives or subjective argumentation. For her the world was a great equation, waiting eagerly to be solved. The Light gave life, as gravity made things fall; the Darkness had cursed the Hive, so it was sensible to consider it disastrous even now, as they were finally free from its influence. He knew she wasn’t asking about the rationality of warring with the Deep—there was yet a question under the question, several levels removed from what she gave voice to, some other concern or a new angle she tested approaching things from.
“It’s sealed,” he said.
“A wicked entity lives there, sworn to the Deep.”
With how quickly Savathûn learned, he often caught himself forgetting she was only three days old. The cartography of this place was still unknown to them; the brood that flocked around her for guidance alien and just as disoriented; and yet she had embraced queenship as she had embraced the gift of the Light, and rose to protect them from a force she did not understand. Looking down at her blossom-covered hands, she added, “He will threaten everything we’re building here.”
“It’s sealed,” Immaru repeated.
“This world is shifting, and so are its old defences.”
“Even so, we’ll find out how you’ve contained him before. Or we’ll kick his ass. Don’t fret,” he allowed her to pull him to herself with one hand wriggled free from the greenery. The crook of her neck was warm and soft, eddying in the rhythm of her steady breathing.
Something rumbled in the distance, dark architecture splintering and flaking off like shed skin. Rays of Light pierced the sky wherever a Ghost found their other half. Savathûn’s gaze was fixed on the distant horizon, her expression unreadable from the odd angle, but when she spoke, there was smile in her voice.
“Why would I ever fret when I have you to lead the charge?”