Author's note: So, first fanfiction, hope you enjoy.
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"And so the Emperor stands with you all! Go in peace brothers and sisters!" said an old and frail but wise voice. The closing words to pompous ceremony that most had gotten to know by heart these days.
On the planet Gnarsis IV few had ever set foot but a few miles from their farming villages. Everyone knew everyone else in some measure or way. And almost everyone was at least a cousin three times removed of each other. For all intents and purposes, one of the most unremarkable planets in the Imperium of Mankind. But not even the inhabitants knew that, for it had been almost 4000 years since the Imperium had last collected taxes from this world. The bueracracy of the Imperium had forgotten the world in its census, and the inhabitants had forgotten them as well.
There was in part reason for that. While most sections of the Imperium had been embroiled in ceaseless war for thousands upon thousands of years, most of this section has not been touched by war. In response the quadrant turned to its own decadence, drinking in gold and shitting out silver. All of these things were dangerous in such a time like this, when simple enjoyment of simple things could lead to corruption by the prince of pleasure. But even this knowledge eluded them, for few had any knowledge of chaos at all, as per the Imperium's internal mandates.
It was this debauchery that led to the simple planet of Gnarsis IV being ignored. Why collect taxes from a planet with the population of 2 million when forge worlds held much more capital?
It was in this perilous time that one of the most remarkable and dangerous people of the 39th millennium would be born. Here, on this small and insignificant speck of dust among the pain-filled cosmos. And his name was simple, Aetius. And at the moment he was 7 and bored out of his mind.
He had come out here because of the order that every 7th day they were to travel miles from their place of birth on the farms and into the village of Plinus. The village was surrounded by no major features, in this part of the world, all trees had been cut down to make room for agriculture, leaving fields upon fields of verdant green crops for the eye to see. The only remarkable feature was the river that ran right through the center of the village, filled with human excrement and used as a dumping ground, it was no longer a natural hue of blue, but a thick disgusting brown that seemed far more viscous than water should be.
In the middle of the few dozen humble buildings that housed craftsmen and merchants from whom everyone bought supplies from, was a regal building made of thick stone. Its own presence filled the air with a sense of foreboding. Around it was the only defensible position in the entire village. A thick set of gray brick walls that were scratched and worn down over the years of being exposed to the elements. Within this not so humble abode was a gold statue, dedicated to a deity that many had only vaguely remembered as the emperor of mankind. Here they preached and preached and preached some more about things that had no tangible impact on the world of dull tedium that was this one.
And Aetius hated it.
What was the point to all of this?
As he was leaving the building, he took note of the unnaturally dark purple color that seemed to have seized control of the atmosphere. Immediately he began feeling an ill feeling in the pit of his stomach.
"Mommy, what does that mean?" he asked as he directed his finger to the sky above him.
His mom, having no idea herself, merely shrugged and said, "It is an omen of good harvests."
And so they began the long trudge home. Aetius's own bloody feet achy from the years of toil he had already done. His hands were calloused, his hair disheveled, and already a slight hump in his posture had developed from the stress on his young body. They wandered together in a soothing silence. There was no need or want of exchange of pleasantries, not in this life. Inside Aetius small mind, he wondered at all sorts of things.
Why can't life be like the stories that the priest talks about?
His bright and curious mind had always sought and answer to that question, a light that could not be quenched, even in dark times like this.
He continued this train of thought until his head hit the pillow and he began his deep slumber.
Maybe tomorrow I can sneak off with Thomas and go ask the priest.
Little did he know that his life was about to change drastically, and for the worse.
