Hello again, dear readers!
I am here today with another chapter of Child of the Emperor. I want to thank all of you again for you're continued support, it is a big help to my motivation to write. If you enjoyed this chapter (or hated it) please leave a review!
Chapter Master Elagabalus of the Sons of the Phoenix struggled to keep his choler under control. A deep hot rage boiled in his veins, making his rich red Astartes blood pump through his perfected body with a vengeful fury that caused the rhythm of his heart to beat in his ears like war drums. He was a son of Dorn! Who was the Regent of Terra to accuse him and his brothers of such a thing! And most damnably maddening of all
"Do you know what the worst part is, Alcibiades?" He asked Julio Alcibiades Captain of the Third Company, his closest friend and advisor among his subordinate brothers. Not, much to Alcibiades's irritation for the first time.
"You have said, my lord." Alcibiades flinched even as he spoke, watching his Chapter Master face turn even darker in its all-consuming rage. The rage had first taken hold three days ago when their chapter had been ordered to surrender their weapons, and hand over control of their battle barge The Triumph to Guilliman's pampered sons. Ever since then the brothers of the Sons of the Phoenix chapter of the Adeptus Astartes had been confined to a single deck on The Triumph. For the first two days, they had been given no explanation of why they were being forced to withstand this ignominious slight. But on the morning of the third day, the Primarch Guilliman had spoken via vox to Elagabalus. His words making the bitter fury burring within' the Chapter Master's breast even more potent with its vile, and dreadful implications for the future of their brotherhood. The Primarch had informed Chapter Master Elagabalus the evidence had been provided, that the Sons of the Phoenix may have been bred not from the noble geneseed of the Praetorian Rogal Dorn, but the thrice-damned, and ever bewitched traitor lord of all degenerate vice
"Fulgrim..." The Chapter Master's voice able to make any word curse simply by the venom of his tone. When speaking the hated name of such a terrible traitor it was a terrible, and yet almost awe-inspiring sound that imitated from his mouth.
"The worst part is that EVEN should that fool of a Regent be correct in his accusations, it would be by NO FAULT OF OUR OWN!" The sheer force of his voice made the veteran Astartes at his side flinch.
"If some damned heretic martian priest decided to defy his liege, and ours and breed us from the stock of a treasonous dog, It is a crime into which we were born! Born I might add, without choice, or understanding!" There was not one Astartes in the chapter who did not share the Chapter Master's stance on the issue, but the sheer force of the master's rage was almost too much for Alcibiades, who hated to see his friend of close to a century stoop so low.
"My, lord. You must calm yourself!" For the first time since the start of his friend's rage, Alcibiades's voice lost its respectful tone. An irritated edge creeping into his words, causing them to be said far louder than intended. Despite, or more likely because of that edge his words finally broke through the red cloud of the Chapter Master's rage.
"Perhaps..." Chapter Master Elagabalus breathed deeply and clenched his fist tightly in an attempt to control his rage.
"Perhaps you are right, Brother. I must apologize, I have let my rage last an unseemly length of time. It has I admit outstayed its welcome." For a moment he seemed to be nearing his usual calm, but in a flash, the rage returned as he spoke on final furious sentence.
"If only we knew the names of the cowards who brought him this evidence" that the last word held a sarcastic tone so thick as to seem almost comical. Though neither Astartes gave voice to it, both held suspicions as to who the informer had been. In fact, within their chapter, the consent as to who had betrayed them so was almost unanimous.
The Knights of Byzantium primaris genesons of the martyred Primarch Ferrus Manus, the two chapters had never seen eye to eye. That difference exploding into out, and out hatred during the war on the planet below, and none of the brothers of the imprisoned chapter would put such false accusations past the ambitious, augmented warriors of that malcontented chapter. Yet despite their assurance, none of the officers of Elagabalus' brotherhood were willing to speak them allowed. For a battle brother or even a sergeant to speak such things about a brother chapter was one thing. But to a man, each of the Sons of the Phoenix's captains agreed, without needing to speak a word that to give weight to such counter-accusations would only seem like sour grapes.
"My Lord, Chapter Master. Would you please come with me?" The voice of the Ultramarine was high, and clear almost boyish to the ears of the cream and purple-clad sons of Dorn. Yet it was clear from the ribbons and markings on his armor that the blue-clad Astartes was a veteran of a commendable number of campaigns. He was tall even for an Astartes, his bald head out of keeping with a face youthful enough to match his voice.
"You are?" Asked Elagabalus biting back his anger, so as to save face before their gaoler.
"Julius Prestorius, of the Ultramarines. Now please sir, would you kindly follow me." The young Astartes' words were respectful, even humble but the tone in which they were delivered was so abominably prideful as to make Captain Alcibiades reach unconsciously for the hilt of the chainsword he usually wore at his hip. Luckily he thought, as he chastised himself for his actions upon realizing what he was wanting to do, the blade had been taken by the very warriors to which the man who had insulted him belonged. It would do little to help their case, he thought if a member of his chapter especially one as highly placed in its command structure as him. To his surprise Elagabalus was able to keep command of his temper as well, nodding to the man and saying with a clipped tight-lipped voice
"Lead the way." Nodding the young Ultramarine led the senior Astartes away from his subordinate who watched the two leave, unable to shake the feeling that somehow, someway this moment would forever shape the chapter's history.
Down far below the feet of the Sons of the Phoenix, past the storerooms where mindless servitors carried out menial tasks past the thick armor of the warship, and the frozen void of space in the vests deserts of the world below Fulgrim stood eyes aimed towards the heavens.
"Why did you do it?" Asked Sergeant Gepreal his voice calm and subdued. Slowly Fulgrim turned his head to look down at the Dark Angel. Who despite his Primarch's senses had managed to walk up behind him unnoticed.
"Do what?" Fulgrim did not mean to sound irritated with the Astartes sergeant, but the worry, and even fear that filled his mind as he gazed skywards left little space for decorum.
"Save loyal Servants of the Imperium like us. he said gesturing towards the group of ragtag escapees Fulgrim had led to the surface of this desolate world. Who sat warming themselves around fires, or trying to sleep on the hard dry ground.
"How long have you known?" The Primarch's voice was no longer stressed, and snappish as it had been a moment ago, all that gone replaced by deep and very human tiredness.
"From the moment I lay my eyes upon you, Primarch." To Fulgrim's surprise, the son of his brother Lion El'Jonson's voice held no anger, no righteous fury. Instead, curiosity tinged his voice as he continued.
"It is hard to mistake a Primarch. But you have yet to answer my question. Why do us this favor?" His voice was low, and quiet so as to be unheard by the people who sat by the fires, and yet it thundered in Fulgrim's ears like the roar of some great beast. This was not because he had no answer, no exactly. He had done so because he needed allies, and because it was the right thing to do. Rather the words struck him because they came close to one of the two things that had been eating at his mind while he watched the stars. The first unrelated to this was what would happen when the Imperial rescue forces arrived, they had voxed to the beacon left by the Alpha legionnaire and informed the escapees that they would be unable to send searchers before a time that happened to be dawn on their region of the planet. The other thing the one that now caused his grief was Why? For what reason he wondered had Alpharius Omegon provided them this aid? The idea that he was serving at the whim of another of his Traitor brothers. He had been used by the gods of Chaos for far too long, and yet he still remembered the time before his own fall when he had been a tool for the Daemon in his blade. The fear that he was a tool again raced around his mind like mad ghosts. Suddenly a cough from the sergeant brought him back to the moment. The Astartes looked at him his curious gaze growing more intense the longer Fulgrim refrained from providing an answer.
"Let me answer your question with another question son of my brother." He saw the sergeant's face turn sour and watched the warrior open his mouth to speak. Quickly Fulgrim raised a hand for him to listen.
"Humor me" Slowly Gepreal nodded, gesturing for the Primarch to continue.
"You know I am one of the Traitor Primarch, but do you know which of them I am?" Shaking his head Gepreal of the Dark Angels answered that he did not.
"Guess." Despite everything, there was a hint of comedy in Fulgrim's voice
"By your looks, I would say you are the sire of the traitorous Emperor's Children." Smiling Fulgrim nodded before continuing.
"In truth, I do not know all of what I am, but I am not the same Fulgrim who rules the Emperor's Children. My soul is that of the Fulgrim who led them before the heresy, my body and my mind are my own. I cannot explain it but I am..." The Primarch trailed off pausing for a moment to search for a word that evaded him. "I am a, a clone. I suppose." Sergeant Gepreal was staring intently at him now.
"To clone a Primarch, even... no ESPECIALLY a traitor is the purest Heresy! Who would dare do such a thing?" perhaps Fulgrim thought he had been unwise in his decision, to be honest with the Dark Angel. Though in truth he was not sure what else he could have done.
"Will you kill me then?" Fulgrim asked he head coming to rest on the hilt of the chainsword the sergeant had given him. For a long moment, the Astartes was quiet, ultimately answering in the negative.
"To kill you after you saved me would be... dishonorable." Gepreal have wanted to say something else but had changed his mind. Intently the Primarch wondered what his original word had been. Uncomfortable under the intense gaze of the primarch the sergeant made the sign of the Aquila and turned on his heels walking away.
Returning his gaze to the sky fulgrim watched the first rays of the daw sun creep over the horizon. And as the weak disk of light that shone feebly on this world casting sickly rays through the atmosphere. Fulgrim saw the silhouetted distant forms of the approaching Imperial rescue ships.
Have a great week, and God bless yinz.