Incantator Congressus Chapter 44

Jubila was in hell, literal hell, eternal and unending. He dwelt in a frigid vista of bleak mountains, lost somewhere in the warp. He was chained to a rock, forced to stare at that mind-numbingly boring view, watching a black sun creep towards the horizon. No food or drink were offered, hunger and thirst gnawing at him forever. Then, as the sun set, an eagle would swoop down from on high and tear out his liver. That at least would have broken his tedium, except during the night it would grow back, only for events to play out again and again and again.

Jubila was in hell, eternal and unending. He dwelt in a frigid vista of bleak mountains. He was chained to a rock, forced to stare at that mind-numbingly boring view, watching a black sun creep towards the horizon. No food or drink were offered. Then as the sun set an eagle would swoop down from on high and tear out his liver. That at least would have broken his tedium, except during the night it would grow back, only for events to play out again and again and again. Jubila was in hell. He dwelt in a frigid vista of bleak mountains, chained to a rock, forced to stare at that mind-numbingly boring view, watching a black sun creep towards the horizon. Then as the sun set an eagle would swoop down from on high and tear out his liver. During the night it would grow back. Jubila was in hell. He was chained to a rock, watching a black sun creep towards the horizon. Then as the sun set an eagle would swoop down and tear out his liver. Jubila was in hell, chained to a rock, then as the sun set an eagle would swoop down and tear out his liver. Jubila was in hell.

Time lost all meaning as Jubila's torment repeated itself and his universe shrank to a pinprick of agony. Then one day it stopped and everything changed. Jubila's view of the sun was blocked as a shadow fell over him. He lifted his heavy head and squinted upwards, seeing a figure looming overhead. A sinuous body tapered into a coiled tail that supported a torso sporting a dozen arms. Strange and exotic weapons were held in each hand, swords and whips and sceptres, all regal in aspect and deadly in purpose. A purple breastplate was attached to the chest, hung with golden chains and marks of sovereign authority. The head was crowned by curving horns but under them lay long white locks, that spilled over the shoulders in a fashionable affection of carelessness. Terrible in aspect, fearsome in strength yet the face was human, a thin and delicate visage with an insouciant smirk.

Memory stirred in the foggy mists of Jubila's subconscious, long-unused neurons firing in recognition as he wheezed, "Fulgrim…"

Fulgrim, Prefector of Chemos, beloved of Slaanesh, Daemon-Primarch of the IIIrd Legion, spake, "Jubila, you worm."

"Am I alive or dead?" Jubila gasped.

"Yes," Fulgrim stated unhelpfully.

Jubila's head rolled back as he pulled feebly on his chains and gasped, "Why?"

"Why what?" sniffed Fulgrim.

"Why this torture?" Jubila moaned, "Why punish me so?"

Fulgrim snorted in disgust, "You have some nerve to ask. I saved you from death, I granted you armies and worlds to administer in my name. You took my generosity without question but when I tasked you to bring me a relic, you failed! You wear the yoke of failure about your neck and dare to ask me why you are punished!"

Thoughts and memories began to stir in Jubila's head and his mind began to work properly as he said, "There was interference. Harbinger, Ozymandias, a new Daemon-kin…"

"Excuses will buy you no leniency," Fulgrim sneered, "I do not tolerate failure in my underlings!"

Jubila shook his head, blinking to clear his vision as he murmured, "I don't recall much of the end, I was too busy dying, but I remember Rebre running. She opened a portal and grabbed the Gladius Incandor. I saw her escape, I remember that. Surely she brought it straight to you."

Fulgrim grimaced slightly as he spat, "Regrettably she entered the rift in haste and had no time to steer a safe course. Her exit vector was random, she could be anywhere in the vast sea of the Immaterium. You, I found quickly, I bound your soul to me long ago, but hers is more elusive."

"You lost her!" Jubila laughed weakly, "She slipped through your grasp!"

Fulgrim's expression didn't change but a feathered shape swooped down and alighted on his shoulder, beak glistening with deadly promise as the Primarch stated coldly, "You seem to wish me to resume your punishment."

Jubila's confidence was returning and he quipped, "That would be counter-productive."

"You dare speak to me so!" Fulgrim barked.

"I have nothing left to lose," Jubila snorted, "But so much to gain by being bold. You can release me."

"Your mind has decayed, to think there is any reason in creation I would spare you," Fulgrim growled.

Jubila drew in a breath and explained, "You wouldn't have bothered to come here, wherever here is, if you could find her on your own. Let me guess, the oracles draw a blank, the seers don't see anything and the Dark Gods aren't interested in helping. Rebre eludes you and so you decided to fish in my mind and see if I could offer up some clues."

Fulgrim's jaw ground against itself as he hissed, "Supposing you are right… why would I release you?"

Jubila grinned as he continued, "If Rebre can't be found in the warp, then she can only be in the Materium. Holdfast wasn't a portal to the warp but realspace instead. She's somewhere in the real world. You need an agent in the worlds of men, someone who can go looking, where you can't."

Fulgrim leaned down and sneered, "I knew all that before I came here. The question was, why would I release you when there are millions of dupes willing to scrabble for my favour?"

Jubila's mirth evaporated as he saw Fulgrim wasn't pliable and hastily he spluttered, "I didn't fail entirely. I thwarted Harbinger, snubbing Tzeentch's nose. I kept the blade from reaching Guilliman, rubbing your plodding Brother's face in his failure. I defeated Ozymandias, he was planning to usurp your glory!"

"Ozymandias," Fulgrim snorted, "A witless fool, grubbing for my leftovers. He was no threat to me, never you hear! None surpass Fulgrim's glory!"

Jubila exclaimed, "But you would have had to lower yourself to deal with him, sooner or later. He couldn't beat you, but he would have left a mark on your pride. The indignity of having to fight an inferior being, a jealous son no less. Word would spread that you had a rival, that your perfect glory was tarnished. If Ozymandias could rise to challenge you, others would have dared to dream the same. But witness, his defeat came from a lowly mortal, his challenge stillborn before it was birthed. All see mighty Fulgrim defeated his rival without having to lift a finger!"

"You flatter me, hoping ego will change my mind," Fulgrim snorted, "Go on."

"Glorious Fulgrim, perfect Fulgrim, the cries will ring from every spire. The Primarch of the Emperor's Children is unassailable, they will say. None will dare cross you, Daemon or mortal."

"Speak more about my beauty," Fulgrim purred.

"Most beauteous of all souls, the embodiment of perfection! All writhe in envy of your countenance, the Daemons of the warp seethe in jealousy. Mortals weep to know that they will never kneel before you. The universe longs for your appearance; it paints its face with war and bloodshed, like a harlot waiting for her lover to knock on the door."

Fulgrim smiled coldly as he chuckled, "You lie well, little wretch. Your flattery has bought you a chance, but only one. I shall release you from your bondage, to fulfil a task for me. You shall be sent back to the worlds of men, alive and breathing so long as you pursue the geas I lay upon you. Your only thought shall be to track down Rebre and retrieve my prize."

Jubila hesitated as he said, "You do know the blade is corrupted…"

"Even better, how that uptight blowhard of a brother will howl when I wave it in his face. To see the blade I snatched from his hands has been made a Daemonsword will deflate his pride no end. I look forward to humiliating him."

Jubila grinned as he agreed, "I can't wait to see it. Of course I will need an army, ships, a sorcerer."

"Oh no," Fulgrim growled dangerously, "No more gifts from me. I return you to life, but that all you get. You're on your own this time."

"But she could be anywhere, how can I search the galaxy alone?!"

Fulgrim snorted, "That's your problem, not mine. If you want minions you can damned well find them yourself. But move quickly, my patience with your failures grows thin. Find the blade quickly or suffer my wrath."

Jubila gulped nervously as he said, "Then I had better get started."

But Fulgrim didn't move, only leaning in to hiss, "Bring me the Gladius Incandor or I shall fling you into a hell so vile that you will long for your peaceful little rock and a friendly disembowelling. This is your last chance Jubila, no more failures."