Chapter 1–Inheritance

Serena Venser stood on the balcony of her villa, her son standing next to her. She gazed onward, watching helplessly as her love rode away for the last time. They both knew what fate awaited him, for he was a Solar and no matter how hard he rode, he could not escape the Wyld Hunt this time. He would fight. He would amaze them with his valour, his skill, his strength-at-arms. And he would die.

She wished she could help him somehow. She'd offered to shelter him, but he'd said that, princess or not, she couldn't stop them. She'd offered to smuggle him out, but he'd said that they had operatives watching every door. She'd even offered to fight beside him, had been strapping on her tiger claws when he'd said that it would only get her killed. She was a superb fighter; one of the best, but she was no Exalt. The only way to save him, he'd said, was to remember him, to honour his memory and to keep their son Tommy alive.

There had been quite a scandal when Tommy was born, ten years ago. Her father had been in a rage, especially when she'd refused to identify Tommy's father, especially when he turned out blind, deaf and dumb. He'd been almost at the point of disowning her when Serena had reminded him that she was the only heir he could trust not to squander away his kingdom, such that it was.

They'd since mended the rift between them… mostly. She'd explained that she'd been young and stupid, when in reality she'd kept up her love affair with Khaine after that, though it was very difficult due to his being a Solar and having to move constantly, not to mention her father's disapproval. She was nearly thirty years old now, and still behaving like a lovestruck young woman. She supposed absence made the heart grow desperate.

These thoughts plagued her mind along with a montage of their love, from their first meeting in the university to the day he'd told her he was a Solar to their shared visions for the future to Tommy's birth to his Khaine's exile to his return to now, as she watched him go, as she stood on the precipice and wondered why she did not hurl herself off this balcony and join him in the battle; join him in death. Her tiger claws were on. She could probably kill a couple, maybe even take out a dragon-blood!

But no, that would accomplish nothing. Better to live on to carry his torch and honour his memory than to die here for nothing. But how would she honour his memory?

"Come now," she heard someone behind her say, slowly, persuasively "you know you're lying to yourself. You know it's cowardice to leave your love to die, and yet you do nothing."

Serena whipped around, but saw nothing. She looked back, and saw it as it was happening: Khaine was trapped, his horse dead, his sword drawn. He was making his final stand. Mortal soldiers surrounded him with spears pointed in towards him. An immaculate monk whom Serena recognized as Mnemon Torogi stepped forward and engaged Khaine. Serena knew that he would die now, if not by the Immaculate than by the three other dragon-bloods riding towards the scene from around the estate. Serena drew Tommy close, for once glad her son could neither see nor hear what was going on. Khaine was fighting as hard as he could, but the monk was dodging every attack. Khaine at last landed a blow with gloved fist, bringing the monk down, but in the moment when he would have killed the immaculate, a soldier stabbed him in the knee. Serena let out a sob, then watched as her love, her Khaine, had his throat slit by the immaculate in front of her. It was over.

"You could have saved him, you know," she heard the voice say, "you were strong enough to have broken through the soldiers. He could have defeated that monk and then taken his horse and escaped. You let him die."

Serena knew not whether this was the truth, but she could barely keep her tears back now. She staggered into her chambers and fell asleep crying, her son Tommy, all that was left of Khaine in this world besides the body which would be soon cremated, standing silently by her side.

She awoke the next day to the words "Time to wake up. You may have failed, but that doesn't mean it's over."

Dead inside and intellectually wondering if she was going mad, Serena went down to see what had been prepared for her breakfast. The servants had prepared a sumptuous meal of poached quail eggs. Her father was being questioned by the Wyld Hunt at this point. She ate the eggs. She groomed her beautiful red hair. She selected a red gown. She applied her perfume. She looked down at her son and, a little animation returning to her actions, got him dressed. "You have to accept it was your fault. You could have saved him," said the voice.

She went down, began her training. Daily instruction in tiger style martial arts to keep her fit and able. Her father had always told her that a ruler must also be a warrior. Still consumed by emptiness, her techniques lacked any sort of feeling in them and her godly sifu remonstrated her, though she hardly listened.

She wiled away the day, finally going to sleep in the exact same deadened state as she'd gotten up. Her last thought was of, and in some ways directed to, Khaine: How will I honour your memory? and the last thing she heard that day was "Just wait, princess. I'll show you how."

Day after day passed for the better part of a week. Each day, the voice became more persuasive, sometimes alluding to making her a "peer of hell", and the idea didn't seem as repugnant to her as she thought it should have. Every day, however, it seemed she was getting closer to the answer to her conundrum; something Khaine had said when she'd told him she felt lost and helpless: "You can be more. Pursue your dreams. Don't back down."

She thought back to then, when he'd said those words, and remembered that that was the moment she'd realized she was worth something, that she could change things. But that still didn't answer the question: how would she honour his memory?

She got up the next day, five days after Khaine's death, with renewed vigour. She'd accepted that yes, it was possible she had been responsible for his death, but that wasn't going to stop her from honouring his memory somehow. She threw herself back into her training, wolfed down her portions and got to sleep that day feeling alive again.

The next day, Serena took a ride out of town. She was so sure that today she'd find how to honour his memory. "Princess, it's getting late, I'll raise the stakes," she heard the voice say, "Time for you to embrace your destiny. Become a peer of hell, and you can control your fate."

She stopped her horse, dismounted. What else can I do? she thought, Khaine was an Exalt, I'm a mortal. How can I honour his memory without gaining greater power? but something in her told her it was wrong, that Khaine wouldn't want her submitting herself to the powers of hell in exchange for power. "Why do you hesitate? You'll serve the Yozis in some things, but you'll become a master of the world, the master of your own fate. It's a good bargain, really, a steal!"

How will I honour Khaine's memory? Serena thought desperately, the answer seeming just around the corner, just on the tip of her tongue, but time was running short; she could feel it. This was a demon, and if she wasted it's time she would lose this chance at maybe the only power that could let her honour his memory and she might not live to regret it.

A man materialized in front of her, dark and handsome, with small, feathered, vestigial wings sprouting from his back. "Come now. You know it's the best, no, the only choice. How else will you honour his memory?" He wanted to bring about peace. Is that what I shall do? ANd how?

Her time with Khaine and the war between King Cole and her father & allies flashed before her. His fostering of her self-confidence, the brutality of the soldiers. His telling her never to let anyone stifle her dreams, the horror of battle. His imploring her to make her own mark on the world after their first parting, the death of innocents at the hands of kings. And in that moment, she knew that to honour his memory, she would have to pursue her dream, exaltation or not, and she knew what that was.

The demon said "Time's up. What are you going to do?"

Serena looked up, light blazing in her eyes and upon her forehead, and said in simple words, so that the demon could understand: "To bring justice."

And in that moment, she exploded into light, hearing the booming words echo in her ear as the sun shone down on her with it's infinite radiance. "Thy cause is just and thy will is strong. Take this, my child, and use it to bring justice to the world."

Shining golden regalia surrounding her, Zenith caste mark burning on her forehead, Serena roared one phrase to the demon: "Go to hell!" and then slashed his throat with a swipe from her hand. It recoiled, dematerialized, and fled back to hell. She'd practiced tiger style for years, approached what her godly sifu had called "the pinnacle of mortal excellency," but until now had never understood the true power of the tiger.

Now she was Exalted. Now she was strong. Now she was ready to take on the world, and bring justice to the land so that the strong would never again abuse their power and harm the weak. And in that moment: freshly exalted, with determination igniting a fire in her soul, she felt Khaine again beside her, and knew that he was smiling.