CHAPTER 44

There came a time upon the secret place where the gods of the eldar made Their plans that Isha, mother of the eldar, was sore overcome with sorrow, for the moment of birthing was at hand. And the other gods knew that She was disconsolate, and strove They to give Her comfort, though She may not be given such.

Yet even in Her sorrow knew Isha that the birth must continue, and so took She the other gods up to where Cegorach had Spiorad placed and, taking the accursed jewel down from its place, spake unto the souls within, saying, "Now has the time come, children of Mine, to make your final sacrifice for the salvation of all your race. Come out of that which imprisons you and give yourselves to Me."

And then took She up also the various jewels that the children of Cegorach had devised after Her tears and spoke to the souls within, saying, "My children of the craftworlds, who have so recently left behind the hearts of those ships, come too to Me."

And the souls of eldar past, though they knew that which awaited them, went willingly up to Isha and gave themselves unto Her, as has been designed.

But lo, most fiercely did Isha cling on unto the souls, so that they may never leave Her side, and the gods grew greatly alarmed.

And now went Asuryan unto Isha, and sought He to bring to Isha's mind the part of eldar past in the design against the Othersea gods, but Isha turned her head and would listen not.

Then went Khaine unto Isha, and spoke He of a goddess' duty and of the survival of the children of Isha, but the mother of all eldar paid Him no heed.

Next went Cegorach, and sought He to beguile Isha and through a conniving way charm Her into relinquishing the souls, but She was well-familiar with His ways and turned away from Him and heeded Him not.

Thereafter went Kurnous unto Isha, and because He knew full well of Her feelings for Him thought He to bring Her about, but lo, this was not to be.

Presently stood Vaul, who sought, because He had in times past taken up arms for Her, to call upon this favor. But Lileath, whose domain was fates and dreams and knew better of the tragedy that was to befall Isha, halted Him and called Him cruel. Then went She unto Isha.

And now were the gods greatly distressed, for, by reason of Lileath's demeanor and nature, thought They how She was ill-suited to reason with Isha.

Now when Lileath drew near, She perceived that Isha's countenance was pensive, and so sat She by Isha's side and spoke not a word. Presently sought Isha to do naught but sit, so that the silence might wear thin the Maiden's patience and cause Her to leave. But yet Lileath sat, and long did She wait.

Perceived Isha then that Lileath might not move, and so began She to shout in anger, that Her heated words may drive Lileath from her side. But yet Lileath persisted, and bore the abuse of Isha with great placidity. Such was Her fortitude that drove She Isha at the last to fall into a storm of weeping, and now did Lileath move, taking the mother of the eldar into Her embrace.

Now beat Isha Her arms upon Lileath and sought She to be unhanded, but stern was Her fellow in Her duty and let not Her clutches grow loose.

Presently did it dawn upon Isha that Lileath was far more pertinent than She had thought, and so ceased She Her struggles and, with a great wail, fell into the shoulders of Lileath. And lo, now provided Lileath words of comfort, and this did greatly soothe Isha, for among the gods did only Lileath understand, until the storm of Isha's grief was caused to pass. And thus it was that Isha came to concede.

Now came Asuryan unto Isha and took Her hand, and Isha, who gave life, breathed the souls of eldar past into a new being. And Asuryan watched the forming, and gave unto it His sign, so that the formation will fulfill the design of the gods.

And thus was birthed Ynnead, and knew the Othersea gods not of the coming of Their doom.

"And thus by expending Her power and entering the realm of Our children did Slaanesh bring about Her own doom," did Cegorach most solemnly declare.

And intoned Ynnead, "As it has been written." And Her voice was like ice, and it echoed with trillions upon countless trillions of voices, and it was a voice that promised only death.

And now came Vaul, and to enshrouded Ynnead gave He a spear of darkness, and Ynnead took it up, and the gods lifted Their voices in exultation.

But behold, the souls that gave Ynnead form, though great, fit not in number the first design of the gods, for there were still eldar that remained, and did Ynnead bow Her head and gravely said, "I have not yet come into My own. I must needs be given time 'ere I go forth to do battle with Slaanesh."

Then was Cegorach greatly distressed. "This time," said He, "We cannot give, for it is not in Our power to give."

And Ynnead nodded. "This I know," said She.

But beheld then She amusement in Cegorach's countenance, and also doubt. Quoth He then, "There may yet be one who could lend Us aid. Though he is but human, he is mighty indeed, and almost into his own cometh. Let Us away and grant him this gift, so that He may fight by Our side, for Our enemies threaten the humans inasmuch as they do Our children."

And then did Asuryan protest. "We are powerful, for sure, but to enter the world, even at the seat of human power, is to invite the gaze of the Othersea gods. To move through the world to this seat is a poor idea."

But now came forth Hoec, and did He say, "Indeed, to enter the presence of this human in the world is foolish, but I know of countless ways by which to do so without entering the world."

"But We will still have to set foot inside the palace!" exclaimed Asuryan. "We cannot conceal Ourselves from the attention of the Othersea gods then!"

And now it was Khaine who spoke. "Why should this bother Us? If all goes well, there is not one, in the world or in the Othersea, who will be yet unaware of the events that shall transpire. There is scarce need for concealment then. We require some means by which to be uninterrupted on Our way to the human seat of power, and this can Hoec provide."

And the gods found the words of Khaine to be good. And so raised They Their faces to the stars and rejoiced, for now was salvation at hand, and welcomed They Ynnead into Their ranks.

But among the gods there was one voice not raised in exultation. Away from the other gods went Isha into some corner of Cegorach's secret place that lay all enshrouded in darkness, and there fell She upon Her knees and wept for the loss of Her children forevermore.

"There is no other choice," Laenel insisted, making her thoughts as forceful as possible.

"Then create a choice," a keeper returned just as firmly. "We are not opening the rootway for anyone, especially not for this war."

"He's right, you know," another keeper added, his thoughts coming from a world on the far side of the galaxy. "The rootway is not something to be used so callously. We can't just invite anyone we want into it. The trees is not going to be pleased."

"I am sure that the trees will understand." Laenel huffed, picking up a nearby pebble and flinging it into the shadows of the surrounding forest in irritation. The trees, sensing the change in her mood, immediately glowed comfortingly, the branches shading the glade that she was in turning a faint purple. "Oh, stop that," she snapped at it, looking vaguely upward, brushing off its attempt to placate her. She returned her mind to the communication. "Would you rather leave the eldar unable to fight than risk the eldar not of the Exodite worlds gaining the knowledge of the rootway's construction?" she asked pointedly.

"Do you really think that is why we refuse to share the rootway?"

"I don't really see any other explanation for your refusal. We aren't particularly reserved, so that rules out refusal on the grounds of tradition."

"How about refusal on theological grounds? The rootway is at least as much a part of the trees as we are, and loaning it out to anyone who comes asking reeks of disrespect and disregard to the trees."

"We all have to make sacrifices in this war – mortals and gods both."

"You're not being particularly tactful, you know," the keeper complained.

"I was not planning on being so."

"That is not really the reason for our protest, Laenel. The destruction of the webway has proven that not even those places are particularly safe. We will not allow the rootway to meet the same end as the webway. There is far too much that could be harmed if the rootway is shattered."

"The trees are a great deal more durable than simple psychic constructs, my dear keeper. Even if Malenesh made it into the rootway's corridors, it would be highly unlikely that she will be able to destroy it in the same manner."

"Even if it is as you say, how are we going to get all the armies into the rootway? We can't share the power of the trees. No one but us will be able to open gates to the rootway."

"That is no problem at all," Laenel grated. "One of us will go with each of the warhosts whenever they need to relocate. That is not going be so terribly difficult to accomplish."

"And in doing so leave our worlds unprotected. Have you forgotten our pledge to the trees?"

"Surely the trees will understand that, if the rest of the galaxy falls, then the Exodite worlds will also fall. Why are all of you being so stubborn?"

"Perhaps it has something to do with pride," a third keeper suggested. "This might be the first time since the Fall that the craftworlds, the harlequins, and even the Commorrites are seeking aid from us."

"That's ridiculous!"

"And quite infantile," the keeper agreed. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I am going to do as the keeper of Mar-Kenaleith has suggested. The other keepers are perfectly capable of taking care of the planet while I am gone."

A small number of affirmative pulses of thought came to Laenel, first in the dozens, then hundreds, then thousands, but even as the more sensible keepers pulled their minds away to make their preparations, Laenel knew that it was nowhere near enough for the forces that the craftworlds would gather. With a feeling of helpless frustration she pulled her mind away and reached out to the other keepers of Kenaleith.

"Well?" Lauvan asked almost before their minds had been linked.

"Most of the foremost keepers refuse to open up the rootway to the other factions," Laenel reported irritably.

"Then I suppose that I do not have to ask about their opinion on opening it up to the humans?"

"We never even got that far," Laenel snorted.

Lauvan sighed. "You should inform the autarchs of Ulthwé about this as soon as you could. They might already have plans in place for such an event, but it does not hurt to give them some extra time anyway."

"I know what to do, Lauvan," Laenel replied testily.

"I don't think that we should let this worry us for too much longer," Arnyl said mildly. "The other keepers could only stand by for so long. Whatever they do, those like us will still be leading warhosts through the webway. Eventually their only option will be to continue doing nothing or to assist us. Keeping the rootway shut will be beyond their capabilities – especially if the trees agree with us."

Laenel grunted sourly. "I only hope that they don't take too long to come to their senses. We will be stretched incredibly thin as it is."

"I will talk to the trees," Lauvan mused. "Perhaps I could find a way for a single keeper to lead multiple warhosts at once."

"While you are at it, see if you can convince the trees to lend its aid directly," Arnyl suggested.

"Please do try your best," Laenel pleaded. "These next few days are looking to be very long, and it'll only get worse when we start sneaking the humans in, too."

The news of the loss of Cadia spread through the Imperium like wildfire, the word going from astropath to astropath in horror and despair. Others received first word of the news when seers throughout the Imperium had fallen into varying states of shock. The effect that the loss of the planet had on the psykers hinted at the scale and ferocity of the battle and, Uriel supposed, the horror of the destruction that befell the inhabitants of the world.

The fleets that fled the destruction of Cadia returned from the Warp only minutes later first in fleets of dozens badly scarred and damaged ships, scattering all over the heart of Imperial space to requisition for repairs and supplies. Then the bulk of the fleets began pouring back, thousands upon thousands of ships that would ordinarily have been fit for battle bearing details of the disaster at the gates to the Eye of Terror as they made their way slowly toward Terra and the protection of the throneworld's outer defenses.

In the higher councils of the Imperium, however, few thoughts were given over to the Emperor's ships. The concern that weighed heavily upon the minds of the Imperium's commanders and assorted leaders were rather the affairs of the Imperium's outer worlds. Of these they discussed almost to the exclusion of all else, even the inquisitors of the Ordo Hereticus, for whom the internal affairs of the Imperium were the primary concern. Uriel detested that. In some small part in the back of his mind he was well aware of this dereliction of duty, even as, with a certain morbid fascination, he found himself directing his not inconsiderable resources to gathering all the information he could from those regions of Imperial space for his examination.

"A new report just came in, my lord," the voice of one of the intelligence officers aboard the Vitium Liberare said, her voice coming clearly over the ship's vox system upon Uriel's desk. "An update on the Cadian situation from one of our exploratory fleets in the area."

"Thank you. Let me know if anything new comes up." He pursed his lips, his mind racing. "Before you do that, however, see if you can first contact all the system governors that we are on good terms with."

"My lord?"

"If I know my colleagues in the Inquisition, the time is coming when they will start gathering up the soldiers of the Imperial Guard and planetary defense forces in the area and start marching them toward the Eye. If we could recruit those regiments before the other inquisitors get to them, we could at least increase their performance in battle with some better equipment."

"My lord is very thoughtful," the woman said approvingly.

"Kindness has nothing to do with it. If the soldiers are better equipped, they could kill more daemons when the inevitable battles start. Besides, I need soldiers and ships, and all my funds are going to be useless if the forces of Chaos overrun the galaxy."

"Of course, my lord," the officer muttered, a hint of amusement in her voice. "Whatever you say."

Uriel turned to the cogitator before him. The data that the officer had spoken of sat waiting for him. Tapping upon its icon on the machine, Uriel opened the file. A holographic display by his side flickered to life, filling fully half of his office with streaks of white light as a map of the galaxy came to life. Uriel's eyes instinctively drifted to the spot in its center and he swore. There, just a little to the side of the center of the galaxy, was the Eye of Terror, but there was no question that it had changed since the last time that he had seen a map of the galaxy before the destruction of Cadia, becoming larger than even the most exaggerated map had ever illustrated it to be. A great black jagged line, like a crack in an exquisite panel of glass, staggered out to the top and the bottom of the galactic map, interspersed here and there with great pits of utter darkness where warp rifts had been ripped open and the fabric of reality crumbled and tore. The cracks did not quite reach to the very edge of the galaxy, but it was enough that the Imperium had been quite nearly split neatly in two. Even as Uriel looked on, still absorbing the magnitude of the rend before him, the cracks were already becoming longer and wider, reaching out with crooked fingers to the universe beyond.

Tracing a rough and meandering line toward the left of the map from the engorged Eye of Terror was a series of warp rifts, each expanding on its own volition, combining with the others and swallowing all matter and energy they came into contact with, consigning both to utterly alien and incomprehensible realities in the Warp. A jagged fork linked them like a bolt of inky lightning, stalking angrily toward Holy Terra. An involuntary chill ran up Uriel's spine as the thought came over him.

Even as he looked on helplessly a couple of stars were claimed, then a dozen, and then a dozen more. Within the span of a minute the gods of Chaos had claimed a hundred Imperial systems. Suddenly, the shock at the loss of Cadia vanished from Uriel's mind as the map before him charted out in grave detail the destruction of the glory of all humankind.

Grandmaster Vardan of the Gray Knights was a bald man with a deeply lined face and leathery skin. He wore a plain, loose smock unbefitting of his august position that gave no indication of the burly frame of the astartes that it concealed. The shapeless attire bulged slightly at his right hip, the blocky form of a bolt pistol unmistakable. He stood with Volorus atop a wall high up on the fortress monastery that spanned the moon of Titan, looking down at the drab fortress of his order without actually seeing anything. Up in the sky above them sailed fleets of ships, hundreds upon hundreds in endless patrols, barely visible dots against the brown backdrop of Sol VI, the planet called Saturn. From somewhere far below them the sound of muffled chanting rose up into the still air, prayers and hymns offered up to the Emperor from a chapel where the chaplains led their brothers in ceremony.

Before them spires rose grandly into the air, studded with golden iconologies of the Imperium and with effigies of the order's past grandmasters and heroes set into alcoves, and with plinths topped with statues of the Emperor staring somberly down at all who passed below. Inscribed into the sides of the wide boulevards that were the fortress' streets and along the walls were the creed of the Imperium and of the order. As he always did in this place, a vast sense of awe came over Volorus, as well as a heavy duty shared by few other places in all the Imperium. The pulsing of anti-daemonic wards was palpable, lending the air a certain thickness that lay over the ground like a vast blanket. Volorus' vox was silent in his ear, the line from his ship jammed by the passive defenses of the Gray Knights. Volorus did not begrudge them the precautionary measure. Few in the Imperium outside of the Gray Knight order were allowed onto Titan, and so Volorus could tolerate their security with a certain magnanimity.

They stood in silence for a while, looking down upon the streets and the Gray Knights moving there. After a few moments Vardan turned to Volorus.

"Well, then," he said crisply. "What do you want?"

"Still as blunt as ever, I see."

"Were you expecting otherwise?"

"Probably not. I believe that you are aware of the latest developments concerning the forces of Chaos?"

"You mean the destruction of Cadia?"

"Among other things, yes."

"Of course I am."

"How about the decree of the High Lords regarding cooperation with them?"

"We have received it," Vardan said, his expression unreadable.

"Good. The eldar are moving their forces in response. I'll need your chapter to reinforce the eldar aboard the craftworlds."

"That would be quite impossible. The chapter is currently battling the forces of Chaos on the other side of the galaxy."

"Yes," Volorus said, nodding gravely. "It is also fighting on Elipan X, Usten IV, Utena XII, and the Gram, Telim, Pol, and Meyit systems – just to name a few. I also have it on good authority that at least one Gray Knight battlebarge was spotted orbiting Titan just two Terran days ago – bearing, incidentally, the same callsign as one seen aiding Imperial forces on the other side of the galaxy the very same day. Does your chapter perhaps possess some technology that allow it to be in multiple places at the same time, grandmaster?"

"Perhaps we do," Vardan replied unconvincingly. Volorus raised an eyebrow, and the grandmaster scowled. "All right, maybe the Gray Knights might possess a few more brothers than the standard thousand."

"A few?" Volorus asked, not bothering to hide his amusement.

"We've known each other for a long time, Volorus, but don't push your luck." He paused. "If you can get word to your friends on the craftworlds, I will send the chapter over." He glanced slyly at Volorus. "I have my own sources too. A thousand Gray Knights is a potent force to be reckoned with."

"A thousand?" Volorus protested.

"That is the official numbers, you understand. The books need to be balanced."

"Of course they do."

"It will do us no good if two thousand Gray Knights were to show up in the same place, will it?"

"I suppose not."

"It will do the Imperium no good either," the grandmaster said with equal sincerity.

"Won't reports of a thousand Gray Knights from five different craftworlds raise some eyebrows, too?"

"Those can be easily explained away. There are many chapters, relatively uinknown and hithero unknown of, that happen to have gray and silver as their primary color. Some of them are even real. Besides, most of the Imperial Guard and the Navy will not be going anywhere near the craftworlds anyway. A thousand battle brothers for every craftworld, period."

"As long as you are sure that would be sufficient to hold back the daemons."

"Within reason, Volorus. Within reason." He paused. "Of course, you realize that we could not possibly defend every goals of the Holy Imperium must come first, and those of our order must take precedence."

"It would be a little difficult to defend every craftworld with only a thousand warriors," Volorus agreed with a perfectly straight face. "I'd say that your order will be stretched far too thinly to launch any sort of mission at all if you spread a thousand Astartes out across all the craftworlds."

"Very funny, Volorus," Vardan said dryly.

"I'm glad you liked it."

Across the galaxy upon barren worlds, lush garden worlds, amid belts of asteroids, and out in the depths of the void where the light of the stars did not touch the very fabric of reality rippled and peeled away. Great gates were opened where there were none before, and were one to stand before them one would behold beyond the gaping maws of reality places that no mortal had before beheld, of rune studded walls glistening with the light of wards, and filled wall to wall with weapons and dusty tomes and scripts of ancient knowledge lost to the ages. But none would peer thus into these gates, not for inability, but for impossibility, for few in all the galaxy could sense the gates, and fewer still could enter the vaults and take up the weapons or puruse the knowledge within.

But those who could do so – who were given permission to do so – went into the vaults, and brought out with them all the things stored within from times long gone, but which many still remember. And these they took with them to worlds all through the galaxy, and upon these they scattered the things that they took from the vaults, laying them in such a way that they were easily found by the eldar there. And the eldar gazed long at that which had been granted them in lengthy amazement, for they thought this knowledge lost.

And though they did not know or understand how the learning came to be there, the eldar of the worlds took up the weapons and the understanding and forged and shaped them to their defense. And this they accomplished with relative ease, for it was technology familiar to them.

And when this all was done those few who had been allowed into the vaults sealed them shut again, but the vaults were yet not empty, for they still contained the most important pieces of the ravaged civilization of a once peerless people, not weapons or technology, but the arts and creations, plants and animals long extinct, and of philosophy and theology and the beauty that was within the fabric of the universe, all things that have no place in a galaxy ravaged by war, and so in the vaults they shall stay until all the races of the universe have grown weary of war and long-sought peace settles grudgingly again among the stars.