Chapter Eight.


Unlike the Inquisitor, I met this cousin of mine with as much grandeur as I could muster in the few hours it took for them to land. Starting to dip from its place above us our star spread its warmth across our faces, but doing little to chase away the cold. Beside me Despair stood tall. Dark gray scales smudged with sunlight, but he was enjoying the heat, tapping his claws in impatience.

To my right and left Serfs fell into ranks six deep. At any time the breath of a dozen souls wafted upwards, curling before being chased away by wind. Hands inside pockets, they craned their necks for a better look skyward, awaiting the descending craft.

Aragorn, while excited to meet a different Space Marine, was kept away. He wasn't pleased by this, but I had to warn him of my blue clad brothers. Powerful and respected warriors all, they kept to the words of their Primarch as the Ecclesiarchy kept to their holy scripts.

I tilted my own head upwards, the skintight suit that separated me from the Ceramite and Adamantium of my armor bunching slightly as my skin was pushed together. I squinted, the magnification inside my helm expanding, then again, until I could just see a small black speck piercing through a wispy cloud thousands of meters above.

They say Space Marines know no fear, and this would be true, but I couldn't help the slight rushing of blood from my stomach as the speck grew. It was a natural response, I confirmed within myself. I hadn't seen another of my cousins in over a year, not to say one from a venerated Chapter such as the Ultramarines.

Who could say theirs was not one of the longest honor rolls of the Great Crusade, their realm of Ultramar a shining gem among the rough frontier of our Galaxy. A legacy of ten thousand years of war, of service and sacrifice. It was there Primarch that laid down the Codex Astartes, the bedrock of hundreds of Chapters.

I let out the air I was holding, the breath sliding out the open grill of my helmet and curling around my helm in white mist. It was getting closer to winter now, the leaves were starting to turn on the massed forest far below. Patches of duller yellow, brilliant oranges and reds rising and falling as colorful hills.

So distracted was I by the lands before me I missed them piercing the clouds. The low growl of engines reached my ears. Like a blue bird of prey the thunderhawk came out of its descent a few hundred meters from the plateau, lazily turning to bleed speed before gliding closer.

It was almost beyond the grace a mortal could pull off in such a bulky craft, and my eyes found the twin rectangles that provided a view inside. There on the throne was an Astartes, the colors distorted by thick protections, but I knew them all the same.

With a low whirling the landing gear came grinding out of the transport, hydraulics hissing as they took on the crushing weight. The turbines winding down I took the opportunity to run my gaze over the craft itself.

It was immaculate, the proud symbol of the Chapter painted in perfect detail, not a single scratch covered its frame, polished and painted from hands that loved their craft. The front door started to fall slowly revealing the Marine behind.

Like all Apothecaries, much of his armor was white, the blue symbol of Ultramar dominating his left pauldron. As soon as the door rested onto the stone he was walking down it, strides evenly paced. I marched forward as well, our boots falling and rising in unison. A meter from one another we stopped, silent for a long moment before I raised my hands to release my helm.

"It is my honor to welcome you to my home, son of Ultramar." He finished releasing his own helm, servitors, the animated flesh of mind wiped humans, were carrying large metal boxes between industrial claws and maglocks.

"I am Caldus, Apothecary of the Ultramarines. It is a pleasure to be here, lord of the Iron Drakes." Like many sons of Guilliman, he had a fair face and dark hair, piercing blue eyes, one side of his face marred by a scar that went from temple to jaw. A number of purity seals were stamped around his armor, each for a deed of high valor and selfless service.

His eyes passed my form, having observed me and as I had him, and fell upon the entrance of my home, the lines of Serfs, some slightly shivering as the day continued to die, colder and colder air settled over the mountain.

"I was told you have been given strange orders, but these are even stranger times." Caldus said, voice as deep and powerful as any of our kind, touched with the regal tongue of his native language.

"They are indeed. I am thankful for the swift response of the Ultramarines to this. I was not even aware of your coming arrival. I'm afraid there is much that has yet to be properly built." No reaction, only the continued glancing of the area as he responded.

"We did attempt to send out an Astropathic message, but it seems it was lost in transition." I thought of the single Astropath that was within my command, and the entire choirs that the Ultramarines had access to.

"It seems likely. But you are here now. I trust there were no complications during your travel?" He shook his head and turned to make commands to the servitors behind him in his native tongue. As he did they stopped for a moment, listening before some picking up boxes and lumbering forward, coming to stand behind him.

"I trust you have a chamber I could use to begin setting up my instruments?" There was the smallest hint of a condescending tone, but I brushed it away without a thought.

Not even two years ago I had lived in a Monastery filled with all the wonders Astartes Chapters could horde, my own had an eternity to go before it even began to rival any of the Founding Chapters' glories.

"There is such a place, if you will follow me." We turned and made our way towards the entrance, the great doors parting as our armored boots thudded across stone. Behind our steps the servitors followed, bloodshot eyes and slack jawed mouths drooling slightly as they came shambling along. Many of the serfs recoiled at the abominations, their presence an strange sight upon our mountain.

"It has been some time since I've heard word of the wider Imperium, has anything interesting happened?" I found myself hungry for knowledge of the wider galaxy, cut off for so long. Half the Imperium could have fallen, and I would never have known.

"War, unending and unyielding before us. The Ultramarines have deployed in nearly a dozen systems in the last fifty years. Orks, Eldar and their dark cousins." His gaze flickered to me for a moment.

"It will be good to have more allies in the area. The Imperium can use all the Space Marine Chapters it can get." I nodded to that, knowing how stretched the forces of the Astartes were.

"Perhaps we can notch this as one of the wise choices of the High Lords." Beside me the Apothecary cracked a small smile, looking around at the mostly barren walls, empty of any distinguishing markings or banners of honor.

"I can begin the testing of Aspirants as soon as I am set up. The Ultramarines Chapter has spared some of its own Geneseed for you." I was surprised by this, knowing full well how valuable such a thing was to any Chapter, but Ultramar was known for its purity as well.

"That will not be needed. With my orders to come here and found a Chapter, I was given the DNA that would be used to create the Geneseed." I held up a small vial of bright red blood, Aragorn's blood, and saw how Caldus's brow dipped in concern, the slightest tingest of mistrust filling blue spheres.

"Such a thing has not been done since the days of the Emperor, when he created the Legions. Only the blood of a Primarch could be used for such a thing," He pointed a finger at the glass in my gauntlet. "There is no chance the High Lords would give you such a gift, not to mention, what Primarch could it even be from?"

I realized I had said to much when the light in the Apothecaries eyes darkened a bit. I spoke to openly, forgetful that other Space Marines watched one another for hints of heresy as much as the Inquisition watched the galaxy. It was our burden to bare, to watch brothers and friends slowly sink into madness and anarchy. For those outside our own brotherhood, even the mentions of some things would have swords being drawn, eager for blood. My silence did nothing for me, and I hurried to speak.

"I do not know where it comes from, only that it came with the sealed orders of the High Lords." I was playing a dangerous game now, lying to the very soul that was supposed to help me build up my Chapter of Space Marines.

"And you would use that to build up a new Chapter? You must know the risk of mutation, what a corrupted Geneseed can do…" He trailed off, showcasing more emotion that I had seen from him yet. I wondered in that instant what memories clawed their way to the forefront of his mind.

"I trust the blood is pure. If it is not then we will purge whatever comes from using it, destroy the sample and use the Geneseed your Chapter has sacrificed. The only question is if you know how to make something more from it."I tossed the cylinder to him and he caught it easily, never breaking stride.

For a few long seconds the only sounds was our footsteps, followed by the shambling trail of dead flesh behind us. For just a moment, I remembered firefights in the dark, pale eyes and gnashing teeth hungry for flesh.

"I can," He said finally, slowly, measuring his response to a stranger who asked far too much. I was surprised by this and it must have shown on my face, for the healer let his gaze rest upon me for a few more seconds, studying something before he turned away. His hand rose above him, holding the glass vial of bright red essence up to the light.

"I will take the time needed to study this, source. If I find it pure, I will help you. If not..." There was no need for him to say the words, we were both old enough to know what it was like to fight our demented and corrupted kin. To many times loyal Marines were corrupted from the inside. Heresy took more forms than just bulbous and disfigured flesh.

"I will do everything I can to help you in this regard." He gave a snort but said nothing more, instead turning his attention to the bland and blank walls of my home. I ignored the remains of dust and rubble as we ventured deeper. While some parts of the Monastery were well maintained, much was still being carved out and I didn't make the Serfs sweep after every drilling session.

"Under construction indeed." Caldus quipped, looking at a particular large stone resting in the bucket of a hauler as it moved past.

"I did warn you." I said back as we turned left, coming to a chamber a dozen meters length and width. Importantly however, was that it was far away from where Aragorn spent much of his time, and finished. The lumens above glowed in soft white, tables and shelving, cut out from when we first carved the chamber, were polished to a shine, not a single grain of unsanded stone to be found. I led him inside and gestured around the room.

"Please consider this your own space while you are here Apothicarian, I will also assign you several serfs to help you in whatever you may need." Caldus raised an eyebrow and shook his head.

"That will not be needed, I don't need your servants in my midst." There was something accusatory there, as if he assumed I would use them to spy on him. I couldn't say the prospect didn't cross my mind, but lying to protect a Primarch was one thing, actively spying on an ally was not a line I was crossing today.

"I understand, I can ensure they know not to come into your chambers at all if you would like?" He nodded and began to order the servitors about, the thuds of heavy metal crates ringing with nothing to dampen the sound. With uncoordinated limbs they went about unsealing the boxes, machines I had seen many times while recovering from battle.

I watched him begin to claim the space for a short time until I turned to the door, speaking as I did.

"I will leave you to your devices, please let me know whenever you make progress." Caldus's voice stopped me as I reached the door, and I turned back to see him linking together power cables.

"Have you begun your selection of Aspirants yet?"

"Not yet." He finished connecting wires and one of the machines whirled slowly to life, its machine spirit woken from a deep slumber. Runes of a dozen kinds flashed in sequence, a low hum filling the room.

"While it may not be my place, I would like to test the citizens of your city before you begin your selection. Genetic purity is important for the process, and it would be good to purify, any large flaws before the spread." I nodded, having witnessed the process several times on other worlds.

"Please do, while we have medical facilities inside the city, they do not have the same level of machines as you. Or your knowledge. I will wait until after you have finished before I make my announcement of selection."

"What trails are you going to do? Many of our brothers have their own ways, which will be yours?" I had thought on this for some time, knowing it would be one of the foundational points of my fledgling Chapter.

Some Astartes took from the lower hives, taking the young and hardy of gangs and purifying them through their transformation into a battle brother. Others had tests of might, courage, willpower or aggression. There were as many trials as there were Chapters, but evey one had a purpose, speaking to the mindset or ideology of the Chapter.

I let out a sigh and hesitated at the door, Caldus looking away and returning to his task, voice reverberating around the chamber.

"You do not have to decide today. The trials the Ultramarine Aspirants have undertaken have stood in place since the days when we marched as Legion." He looked at me again, and there was a small bit of sympathy in his gaze.

"There is a great burden upon your shoulders, one that I have never even heard of another trying to undergo." It almost looked like he was going to say more, but stopped himself, and I took the opportunity to leave.

There would be changes coming to the cold stone of our home. As I made my way back towards my own chambers, new plans and ideas to be put to paper, my ears picked up the sounds of somebody approaching from behind. I turned to see Aragorn there, coming swiftly to my side.

"The Apothecary is here now? That's the whispers I've been hearing from the serfs." I wondered for a moment how much he could hear with his senses, if all the whispers that echoed on the stones were known to him.

"He is, a son of Ultramar has come to our aid. I gave him the vial of your blood, he said he will be able to use it after testing." The demigod fell into step beside me, matching my strides. He was almost up to my shoulder pads now, growing larger by the day.

"I wonder what stories he could tell me of my brother, I'm eager to meet him." I turned my head slightly to look down at the Primarch beside me.

"You can't speak to him Aragorn, I thought we have had this conversation before. Its-."

"Its dangerous for me to be found out by any other large faction inside the Imperium, people might think I'm false or something sent by Chaos. I know." His tone was slightly clipped, unfiltered irritation bouncing off the empty rock. We had this conversation once every few weeks.

My charge was growing quickly, and with his growing power came a self assurance in his own might, a lack of the concept of danger, mortality. Aragorn continued.

"I don't understand why you think he would immediately go running to the Ultramarines, you understood what I am and that I'm not a threat to humanity. After his ship leaves, he has no way of getting a message all the way to Ultramar. You control the only ships in the system. He could tell me about my siblings." I took in a breath and sighed, ignoring the piercing gaze from Aragorn.

"Not everybody is me, I can't trust how he will react. Give it time. Until then you are to avoid him." The Primarch scoffed.

"There is only so much room inside the Monastery, how do you expect me to avoid him if I run into him walking to get dinner?" Another habit of his growing size was his newfound ability to question my orders.

"You can hear me walking through the halls from a hundred of meters away. I trust you will find a way." He was quiet and I stopped, putting a hand on his shoulder and turning him to look at me.

"You are not to speak to him Aragorn, you are not to let him see you. It will be hard enough to keep the serfs of speaking about you around him as is. I can't run the risk of him-."

"The risk of what? He could try to kill me, he wouldn't succeed. He won't be able to tell anybody about me. The Serfs already think I'm just a growing Space Marine anyways and none of them know better. Octavian, in case you didn't know, knows as well, and he accepted it just fine." That was news to me. But given how much time the two did often spend with one another, it wasn't surprising the Magos had put two and two together. Unless he had from the start. A more likely possibility.

"I'm fine with Octavian knowing, but he has his own secrets that he would rather not get out." Aragorn moved his shoulder, my hand falling back to my side.

"His tech dabbling you mean? The only thing we've done so far is give slight improvements to the lasguns that we might one day start making. All the books I have read on Primarchs tell me of their great deeds, how amazing they were in battle. But I want to know more." I breathed out another sigh, wondering where this was coming from.

"In time. It is to dangerous right now, what if he doesn't agree to create the Geneseed? Train an Aspirant in the arts needed for us to have our own Apothecaries to continue on the Chapter? There is more at stake here than your desire to know more about your kin. Be patient, Aragorn, you will get your chance to ask your questions." The red in his eyes seemed to flex and widen as his jaw clenched, but he nodded.

"Fine, but don't expect me to be around the Monastery if you want me to keep away from him."

"And where would you go?" I asked, unbelieving he had a destination in mind. He gestured with his hand towards where the entrance was.

"There are native peoples inside the mountain range, less than a hundred kilometers from here. I'll go and live around them while you build here," I was shocked, stunned into silence as he dove onwards.

"You can't keep the serfs from talking about me, so you know he will be asking questions. Removing me from here is the best choice, they can talk and there will be nobody to find. I can leave tonight."

"Absolutely not." The words fell from my lips before I could think about them, unease rising like coiling serpents in my gut. For Aragorn to be removed from my sight, from the path I was trying to steer him towards so that he could survive in this grim galaxy. We locked eyes and I could see it there now, that thing I had been ignoring for these past months, since I had returned from Rivia.

Aragorn knew he was powerful, he knew he was special. While I might have raised him, his words from before rang in my ears. I was no Drake.

"You can't stop me, father." A thought came to the front of my mind and I let it fall.

"You've been planning something like this for some time haven't you?" For only a moment his face turned to the side, a slight bit of guilt creeping across perfectly formed features before he simply nodded.

"The Monastery is peaceful, pleasant. But I've read every book in the library, been taught every secret Octavian will let go from that wired brain of his. I want more." I wonder if this was revenge for refusing to take him along to Rivia, I had said no that time to his hunger for adventure, now, he would be grasping it with his own very capable hands.

I took in another breath, preparing to continue, but stopped. Another long winded sigh leaving me and I could only find myself shaking my head, the minutest winding of servo's from my armor in the deafening silence of the empty hallway.

"I cannot keep you, Aragorn. If this is what you truly desire, then you may go. I will take comfort in knowing you are close by, and I will expect some kind of update on your condition, from time to time. But you are a Primarch, a being beyond mortal men, including myself. I will not keep you from what you perceive as your right. But these times are peaceful, and we will not know them again. Do not let it slip through your fingers." The demigod smiled before he retorted.

"Then I will learn to cup my hands tight when the time comes." I can only shake my head slightly and motioned for him to follow, the two of us continuing our path, now diverted towards the entrance.

"Why this way?" He asks as the massive doors are pulled apart, the grinding of motors in motion vibrating through our boots.

"It is time you met someone. I had hoped to put this off for a longer time, but given how you are leaving, now is that time." He cocked his head slightly in confusion and looked up as bits of snow began to fall. It was always some kind of cold atop the mountain, misting to the breath and chill on the skin. I look out over the vast plains and forests that made up our home. It was, as it always had been, a beautiful sight, the flashes of a million snowflakes reflecting the light from above dancing across its form.

Aragorn stood with me for a time, both of us taking a moment of silence. The serfs had long gone inside by now, the thunderhawk of proud Ultramarine blue was gone as well. Only the stones slowly give way to white, two gray clad figures standing side by side.

"Come, we must go up." Aragorn follows without a word, the two of us heading up the path I had trodden not so long ago. It was along our path that we came upon Despair, lounging across a rock, wisps of white condensation rising from his nostrils. He was taller than me now, spending more and more of his time outside the Fortress. A single reptilian eye opened to watch as we ascend, curiosity traveling between us for a moment before he closed his eye again, settled as I played out the memories of only minutes before.

He wasn't surprised by this, to him it was natural that a drake would want to break away from the nest, to venture out and seek to challenge himself. If anything, I felt a bit of discontent coming from him, that I would have sought to keep Aragorn close. I tucked such a through away for later, boots grinding on snow and gathering ice.

Within hours we crest to the peak of the mountain. Behind me Aragorn had not once slowed, his breathing coming in easy rhythm. If anything, he seems invigorated by the climb, grinning ear to ear as we neared the peak.

As before I hear them on the rocks, knowing he had listened long before to the scrape of claws and scales around us. Heads and shoulders appear atop the stone, gargoyles measuring our progress. Plumes of iced breath our arch, our entrance into her inner sanctum.

Aragorn pushed past me now, eyes wide, taking in the image with an eager intensity. He stops in the center of the peak, no fear, no doubt, only eagerness.

Slow thundering steps came from the cave entrance, each one capable of cracking earth and wrending metal. From the shadows the Matriarch came, towering above all of us like a god of some ancient tribe. Like before she settles to the ground, eyes narrowing in consideration. Like before, her voice boomed from inside my mind.

Unlike before, I do not react.

"I thought you had plans to bring me youth, so that they may be judged and deemed worthy, instead, you bring me one of my scent already." Before I could speak, Aragorn had already taken a step forward.

"Are you the Drake Queen? The one who gave Despair to my father?" Her head, big as a thunderhawk, came to settle in front of the boy, dwarfing him in its entirety.

"And who are you so bold as to approach me without giving your own name first?" There was no hostility there, only amusement.

"Aragorn Drake, Primarch of the Iron Drakes Chapter." The Queen regarded him for a long minute, before exhaling, covering him in mist that quickly froze to his skin. He didn't seem to notice.

"And tell me, Aragorn, why have you come to my home?" This time I stepped forward, those great sapphire eyes, that which saw much and said little, rested upon me.

"He leaves the Monastery soon, I come to ask for the same boon you had given me, when I came to your mountain." She snorts then, a blast of iced breath as she chortles.

"The drakeling is finally leaving the nest? I wondered when it would happen, when you would visit me."

"You knew it would happen?"

"Of course. All drakes leave the nest sometime. They wander, they fight and live. Some return, some do not, others wander over the horizon for distant lairs. All are my children."

"You are ancient then." Aragorn asks.

"We do not age like humans do. I count the passage of time in the seasons, not the sun."

"Has it changed much?"

"Do mountains change?"

"They erode." She dips her head, his answer was correct.

"They change, shift, over eans they crack and grind unseen pace by pace. But they maintain their core." Her attention rises above us then, beyond us, to the lands below.

"Man is much the same, different rulers, different ideals and values." Her head lowers until its level with us, her eyes on Aragorn.

"At their core they are selfish, greedy creatures. Like us, in some ways. But they do not have the lifespans to come into understanding of their nature. Will you fall into the same failing drakeling?"

"I'm not human, I don't share their failings." A blast of iced breath covers him as she laughs, her ground shaking bulk rising and returning to her cave.

"We will see." Slides across my mind as a parting gift, the falling slow already covering her presence, the drakes all around us slipping back inside mountain homes. Within seconds, we are alone, accompanied by frigid winds and muddled thoughts.

I took the moment to glance at the Primarch beside me. Did he not consider himself human?

Perhaps, if the Emperor was with me, living among the peoples of this world would endear him to their ways. Show him the good in humanity.

The stones shake as the Queen returns to us, again she carries an egg between her horns, held aloft by psychic might.

It was almost identical to the one I had been given, but for the lines of red that ran across its form, cracks in ice stained with blood.

It was also larger, Aragorn reaching up to grasp it without fear of its crackling shell, a wide grin splitting his face.

"He will always fight beside me." The Matriarch dipped its massive head and observed us for a few seconds, the only sounds the rasp of mighly lungs, the shifting of wind across the ice.

"Go then, before I change my mind." Without pause she leaves, monstrous footsfalls soft and somber.

Aragorn and I turn as well, away from the titan and her abode, back to the small mountain pass that leads us here.

"Is it what you expected?"

"What is?"

"This," I raise a hand to the image before us, that world below the clouds. "The egg, is it what you expected."

"I knew it would come, I didn't expect it now." His eyes go distant for a moment, peering through a gap in the sheet of white, to the deep forest below, the brilliant shining blue of a river kilometers wide.

"What is it like?"

"What is?"

"The connection that you share with Despair, what does it feel like?" I think upon my answer for a minute as we pass through the vail that separates the heavens and the earth. Ice clings to the exhaust from my armor, Aragorn's skin steams as his body keeps him warm.

"You are never alone. No matter where I am or he is I know his mood, his memories, his desires as he knows mine."

"It sounds nice." My footfalls hesitate for a fraction of a second. Was it nice? I slump into silence as I ponder the idea. Did I find my connection with Despair pleasant? It takes only a moment more for the answer to cross my tongue.

"It is. One cannot ask for a better companion, or a closer friend." I feel the brush of long simmered frustration from Despair below, he is still angry I didn't bring him with me to fight in our plague war. I bear his frustrations, knowing my reasons still stand.

"Then thank you." He says, voice distant.

We lapse into silence, as we climb down the mountains side, soon again passing Despair, who rises from his rock to breath the scent of the new addition to our Chapter. He gives it a growl of approval, shaking his great horns and tusks to clear off the falling snow. Birds flee from his back as he rises, rising on his legs to breath deep the changing winds. I look south to the plains and see what he smells, a small herd of plains animals, not yet moved on for the coming winter.

But he has eaten recently, and the weight of that meal lays him back upon his rock. I come to his side and scratch at the softer scales under his throat, Aragorn watching us with an unreadable expression.

I frown inside my helmet, unsure of what was causing his somber mood. If anything, I had expected him to keep his pleased attitude for a while longer.

Despair opens one of his eyes to stare into my helm, a flush of confusion pushed across our bond.

When we glance back a second time it is to see Aragorn staring at the egg he holds with rapture, and hope. He notices our combined look, the emotions sliding from his face.

"Shall we get back then?" I nod, running my fingers across Despair's tucks one last time before we go.

I'm tempted to ask him about his reactions, but as the air softens I find my tongue stolen, snatched by the rolling thoughts inside.

Soon we are passing the serfs who watch the gates, the cold collected upon my armor steaming in the face of the roaring hearth of the First Hall.

"Will you wait for him to hatch before you leave?" I risk, unwilling to let Aragorn slip from my fingers without some last effort. He looks thoughtful for a long moment, the egg still clutched to his chest.

"Would you be disappointed if I said no?"

"No." A pair of serfs bow as we pass them, glancing at the prize carried by the demigod. Their whispers following us long after we passed them. For a moment, after even I could no longer listen, Aragorn tilted his head slightly, before he cracked a smile.

"They want to know if all the Iron Drakes are going to have more monsters like Despair running around. Concerned if we would be able to feed that many drakes." I cracked a smile myself and we continued onwards in a more comfortable silence until we reached his room. There he went inside for only a few minutes before returning with a pack slung over his shoulders, egg held in both hands.

We walked to the gates again, the doors rumbling open at a command from my armors cogitator. The wind had picked up, swirling the fallen snow in small tornados of ice. We walk to where the small path downwards had been cut, just large enough for a Rhino or ground transport to traverse.

At the path down I stopped, Aragorn beside me. For a moment I almost wanted to ask him to reconsider, to find a way to keep him here. I said nothing as he takes a few steps past me, turning back with a somber gaze.

"I'll be back before you know it. Just be sure nothing tears the Fortress down while I'm gone?" My face is hidden by my helm, so he does not see the concern that covers it. So instead I motion him off with a wave of my hand..

"Try not to conquer too much of the world while your out there." He responded jovially, descending down the steps.

"I can't make any promises, what would the Imperium say if I was the only Primarch not to conquer his world?" I couldn't tell if he was joking or not, and for a moment I almost pitied whatever natives he came across. No doubt their world would be changed forever.


Later in the day, while I was making my way through the Monastery I hear the sound of soft footsteps broken up by a heavy thud of wood. I turned to see Richard, the man who had been a quartermaster before but had since then been raised to be Head Serf, gave me a deep nod before he spoke.

"My lord, I have done as you have asked and instructed all of the others to not speak of Aragorn, even in the privacy of their own chambers. It will be as if he was never here." His voice was mixed with sorrow at Aragorn's departure, and I could see the next question building upon his lips.

"If I might be so bold my lord, why did he leave us? Surely the Ultramarine could have been brought into the secret and trusted. The return of a Primarch, he has seen Guilliman's shrine before I am sure, couldn't he especially be understanding?" Richard was one of the few people I had told the whole story too, he helped curb some of the looser tongues among the serfs.

It was a poor secret among those who paid attention. There was not a soul among the Imperium, except for some of the most backwater of worlds, that didn't have stories of the Primarchs, their feats and powers. I could only try to keep it from spreading beyond the walls of the Monastery. Each serf swore to silence.

Only time would tell if it was enough to keep Aragorn safe from the wider Imperium. I finally turned to answer the patient man beside me, a small guilty smile on my lips.

"I did desire him to stay, but he desired to question Caldus and I forbade him from it. He didn't take it well. Caldus is too close to the center of everything to risk any suspicion, any doubt. He could easily sabotage my entire purpose for coming here, to raise a new Chapter of Astartes." To my surprise, Richard let out a chuckle, wheezing slightly from breathing in too much dust.

"I understand. He always was a headstrong boy." The serf got a far off look in his eyes as he reviewed some memory. He lifted a hand to his chest and bowed again.

"I will do all I can to help my lord, you need only order me and I will obey." I gestured for him to follow me, taking slow measured steps that he could follow.

"Think nothing of it Richard, out of all the serfs there are none I would rather hear the opinion of than yours. You have been nothing but helpful these past years. I will not forget it." The man seemed to stand taller, my praise strengthening his very bones.

"Thank you my lord, it has been my honor to serve, and I hope to serve for many more years." We came to and intersection among the passages, a pair of serfs on rope pulleys and supports were carving the finishing touches into the Chapter Symbol carved into the ceiling. I turned left, the two of us wandering towards nothing.

"I feel as if I have not been kind to you and the others who have given themselves into the service of our Chapter. I do not ask after you enough, of how the serfs are doing inside the mountain." Richard shook his head vigorously, his bones cracking slightly as he rushed to disagree.

"My lord serving you and helping build all this." He gestured to a large hall we were halfway through passing. Large columns of blank stone sat waiting for honors and deeds of valor to be etched onto their faces.

"It is the greatest honor of our lives. We have a place to sleep, to eat, we have a purpose in serving the Emperor's greatest warriors. There is little more we could ask for." I released a soft breath and continued.

"I will be forever grateful for that service Richard, I know I do not, show it well. But I am thankful, and I would ask that you tell me if there is something I can do for you or the others." I saw it then, the slightest flicker of desire, quickly masked.

"If, there was one thing." I nodded, motioning him to continue as we traveled down one of the large spiral staircases that connected the levels of the Monastery. He paused for a long moment, a few minutes of silence descending upon us, to the point I thought I would have to pull the request from him.

"I, have a son. It would be the equal honor of my life if you could include him, when you took in recruits." He wouldn't meet my gaze, eyes downcast and his head turned from mine. I rested a hand on his shoulder, stopping him at the base of the stairs.

"If that is the only request you have, then consider it done. He will be the very first child we test." The man was wracked with emotion, his eyes starting to mist as he smiled and wiped them.

"Thank you my lord, thank you." I was unsure of what to do to comfort him, and patted his shoulder for a second before I withdrew.

"You have nothing to thank me for, consider it a reward for service well done."

"It has been the greatest honor of my life to serve your Chapter."

"Is your son here? In the Monastery?"

"He is, he labors alongside the others in what way he can. He's a good boy, strong of heart and spirit."

"Perhaps he will be strong enough for two hearts."

"If the Emperor wills it. I should return to my duties lord, thank you."

I watch him leave down another tunnel, the thudding of his walking stick slowly dying until I was left with the silence of the stone.

I enjoy that quiet as I wander back to my room, remembering that I had not slept the night before.

The door opens at my approach, the spartan space largely unchanging since its first iteration.

I step into my arming chamber and activate the servitors that were hidden behind two doors on either side of the room. Metal limbs came down and attached themselves to my armor, gripping the chestpiece and backpack. The servitors, programmed by Octavian himself, made quick work of taking apart my armor, each piece being hung on a rack and a routine cleaning performed. My wargear sat on a nearby table, freshly oiled and ready for blood.

From there I peeled off the body glove, the feeling of air on bare skin that wasn't my face a strange sensation that I never got used to. From there I step a small bathing area, scrubbed the sweat and grim from training off myself, letting water that would kill a mortal run over my shoulders. I looked down at my chest, seeing the patchwork scars and stitched skin from hundreds of years of war. I traced one that went across my chest, thick and nasty.

I had received that one for boasting that I could hold my own against my old Captain in a duel. He had left me the scar as a reminder. I had given him one to match fifty years later. Every day after not being spent on the battlefield in a training ring.

I reviewed each mark, marveling at how many of Mankind's enemies I had fought and beaten. A mark on my neck, with one to match on the other side, from an Eldar sniper. A large piece of leg that was the slightest shade different where an Ork Warboss had gripped and ripped away the flesh and armor.

For an hour I allowed myself to review the realm of memories, pulling at Despair so we might enjoy them together. I loose myself in the realm of waking dreams, a steady stream of boiling water falling from the ceiling to keep my bath warm.

I breath in the steam one last time and rise to reach my bed. I needed to venture to the city tomorrow, see in person if the reports from the city council were true.

I willed myself into sleep, expecting another night of dreamless sleep.

Yet when I opened my eyes it wasn't my bedchamber that met me. It was in the construction Great Hall, a massive chamber a kilometer in diameter. It was here that I had hoped to hold mass gatherings of Astartes.

I blinked, and in that instant the empty hallow hall was filled with that very motion. From the table that spread out before me, filled with items for feasting, Space Marines clad in my Chapter colors. There were thousands of them, stretching to the far wall.

"Are you alright my lord?" My head turned to look at the Marine beside me, a cloak of Drake hide covering half of his armor.

"Who are you?" The Astartes head tilted in confusion and he shared a look with the others that sat at our table.

"I am your High Huscarl my lord, I am part of your Honor Guard." I turned back in my chair and continued to gaze out among the hall. I tried to focus on the faces, but found them blurry, like looking into rippling water.

"I do not know any of you. This is a dream, a hopeful dream, but a dream all the same." The Astartes beside me, lords in their own right from the artistic displays on their armor, the battle honors and taken trophies, shared a look of concern.

"What do you remember?" Asked the one to my right. He shared both Aragorn's eyes and the predatory look that accompanied them. The other beyond him leaned forward, he too had the Primarchs eyes, but his face was softer.

"Aragorn must not have told you about it," He looked directly at me. "I will inform my Librarians of this, they have been working alongside the Iron Drakes themselves to find a solution. They tell me they are close to finding its location." I was about to ask what thing they were trying to locate when a different figure stepped out from behind the table, all those present lifting mugs in salute.

A fully realized Primarch stepped up to my table. Like the others he was clad in a personalized power armor, the same covering of Drake hide. Atop his drake skulled powerpack a large horn was fitted under a small symbol of the Imperial Aquila. Teeth hung from his belt alongside an axe almost as tall mortal man. Attached to his back a shield sat with two spikes jutting out the front, a plasma weapon built into its inner metal.

Sitting he towered above all of us and I stamd to my feet, still almost a meter shorter than he.

"Aragorn?" I asked, the figure reaching up to release his helmet. If anything, the dominance in those eyes had only grown. His voice was like rumbling thunder, my back straightening instinctively.

"Father. Are you having memory problems again?" I furrowed my brow and reached down to the table in front of me, touching what was there. It all felt so real. But I knew the whispers of dreams could be dangerous, many a soul lead down a path that heralded their destruction.

"No, this is all a dream, it will pass soon." I let myself look out among the mass of Astartes with a pleased look. "But it is a nice dream." Those at the table shared a solemn look. Aragorn spoke again.

"It's not a dream, the Chapter is built, bloodied and strong." His jaws clenched as his lip curled in a small snarl.

"Damn that Deamon, when we find him he will be bound and punished until I find a Sister of Silence to finish it for good." The Primarch continued but his words became muddled, slightly at first, but soon everything in my vision was blurry and distorted. Aragorn turned to me, reaching out a hand but he was gone, the world a spin of colors and shapes, nothingness and everything. A faint cracking laughter followed me into oblivion.


I woke suddenly, sitting up in a bed damp from sweat. I raised a finger to my brow and wiped away the liquid, watching a droplet linger on the tip of my finger before it fell, darkening another patch of fabric.

I shake myself off from a lingering feeling of instability that followed me to my arming chamber. A dream, I knew, but already it was fading, voices and images slipping as I grasped at them. By the time I was back inside my armor, power surging through its fiber bundles and systems, I had only the lingering feeling of pride.

I brushed it off, and checked my cronometer, five hours had passed, slightly more than I had intended to rest. The door into the hallway opened and I stepped through, years of ingrained training making me glance left and right. It was empty, as this place often was. The lumens were still turned low, each level of the Monastery being manipulated by well hidden, and well protected control stations.

I spent the morning in meditation and training, a range with reinforced walls allow marksmanship. Already a number of fractures lined the far wall where bolt rounds had ripped through targets and practice dummies. It was a routine that I enjoyed returning too, feeling the kick of a reactive shell firing or the hum of my blades as I put myself through a set of drills.

The Iron Mountain's kitchens were already serving breakfast for those serfs coming off their night shifts or waking early. The food was good, a number of cooks from the Capital having come into service. They prepared my food specially, mixing it with the vitamines and additives that were needed to maintain an Astartes body. While there were private dining chambers in my quarters, and other halls being constructed for Space Marines to feast at. I had found I enjoyed taking my meals in the serfs cafeteria.

Their idle chatter, always low so they thought I could not hear. Gave me some insight into how things progressed beyond my sight. They were always nervous when I ate there, casting glances in my direction as if I was not the one invading their place.

This morning there were a dozen serfs there who had just come off their mining duties, clothes still covered in rock dust. They talked about their labors and the progress they had made. Some of them even whispering that they had, in the smallest detailing possible, ingraved their names in small corners or under carved arches.

While some might have taken offence to this, I found it almost endearing. These men and women were devoting their lives to helping me build this place, they were the first, and it helped inspire loyalty, a sense of ownership that would make them work all the harder.

It also gave me an idea, but I would speak to Richard about it later.

I finished my meal and ventured outside the main doors. They shut behind me with a clang of thick metal meeting its equal, looking over to where a transport sat. I could have taken my thunderhawk, but I didn't want to waste the fuel, or wake the crew for such a short trip.

There were always serfs on standby who were capable of flying, shipments of food or materials coming in from Ildrain. I stepped into the open bay and nodded to the two pilots as they prepared to launch, door shutting behind me, a few snowflakes sneaking in the last seconds before it sealed.

"Where would you like to go Chapter Master?" I had voxed ahead to prepare the shuttle, but had been considering my destination since.

"Any landing zone inside the city will be fine. I would like to walk a bit before my meeting with the city council." The pilot nodded and I locked my boots to the floor as we lifted off, reaching up a hand to grasp a handle as we shot towards the south.

It had been too long since I had been at the Capital. Not since before the Plague War had I spent any true time there. I had also not taken good care to oversee the guard in that time as well. I had been distracted, leaving it in the hands of others. I wanted to see if the reports I was receiving matched what I would see.

It was important to me that the living standard of citizens met certain levels. No Imperial citizen under my command would starve to death, an abundance shipped from the Agri-world every month. Too many times I had seen cities that could have held in the face of enemy attack, buckle and break when the food ran out, the people inside rampaging or even joining the enemy in hopes for salvation. It was often a lost cause, but I would avoid food riots if I could.

As we passed over the city I glanced outside one of the small windows on the side of the compartment. Several thousand more souls had come to Tarth in the last few months, the city again expanding. Markets, plaza's, industrial zones and housing districts continued their slow crawl outwards, a few hundred faces glancing upwards at our lander as we sped over them. In the distance taller structures stretch upwards, grand buildings for the wealthy and the church.

The shuttle touched down and I spent the next hour walking along the streets, eyeing its civilians and military personnel. Because so much of our needed resources came from other places, it left a large hole in many jobs that would otherwise be needed. Those souls without work turned to the guard, a great number of those from the ships turning to the army for employment.

Because of this their ranks swelled, and the number of soldiers under our command was starting to stretch into the several thousands. They were provided a living wage, housing, and in return they trained and served as constant standing defence.

While I had no desire to make the world into a place like Cadia, I knew that any Astartes homeword would be a prime target for our enemies.

Lost in my thoughts I glanced up as the lumens on the street faded, sunlight stretching and activating their sensors. One by one they flickered off, chased by the sun. Those on the streets beside me looked bewildered by my presence, shopkeepers opening their stores for the morning stopping and watching slack jawed as I passed them.

Many made the symbol of the Aquila or bowed their heads, not meeting my helmeted gaze. Their whispers followed me, each with wild speculation on why I was in the city.

"Good morning." I stopped mid stride and looked down at the child who I had been passing by. His face was clean and eyes bright, slightly chubby cheeks with a mop of curly dark hair atop his head. He couldn't have been more than four cycles old. I glanced around and saw a woman inside the shop beside us, her back turned through glass, oblivious to the world. I knelt down, servo's winding and checked that my vocal amplifier was off.

"Good morning. Is that your mother inside?" He nodded excitedly and pointed as the woman places metal racks on a tray.

"Momma bakes bread for people!" My eyes glances inside and I see the loafs stacked inside of a glass display, each were a few thrones apiece. The child continued, puffing his chest out in pride.

"I help too! Do you wanna try some? They are really really good!" He was staring at me with fervent intent, and I was consumed by the feeling of being far outside my element. I didn't remember much of my own childhood, and knew even less of the proper way to deal with them. I glanced up the street at the few passersby who were watching in mixtures of confusion and interest at the strange scene.

"Sure." The youth sprang inside, a soft bell dinging over the door and making the woman turn in confusion, her eyes widening and a flurry of emotions crossing her face. A moment later and the bread stone she had been about to place in an oven fell to the floor, shattering as she went rigid. The child turned, looked as his mother and then came back outside, holding up a loaf.

I took it and reached up for my helm, the woman coming rushing out the door and grabbing her offspring up in arms, panicked words spilling out of her.

"I'm so sorry my lord, I should have been watching him, please do not be angry. I promi-" I held up hand and her mouth clamped shut, fear making her draw in upon herself and holding her child tighter to her chest.

"There is nothing to apologize for." From her arms the youth wiggled and pointed at the bread still in my hands. I raised it and took a bite, chewing slowly as he watched. When I swallowed he giggled and grinned, the mother looking between the two of us.

"What is his name?" She again shifted uncomfortable, looking like a beast about to bolt, but answered in a quiet, timid voice.

"Erik my lord."

"And his father?" A shadow passed over the woman's face, and I glanced inside the shop again to see a flak vest and helmet placed the wall, a photo underneath. I recognized the soldier, one who had died in the retreat when we attacked the bastion upon Rivia, consumed and pulled apart by undead flesh.

"Your husband served with distinction, he fought bravely until the end." The child cocked his head in confusion and the woman's eyes became almost panicked.

"What's he mean momma?" Tears welled at the edges of the woman's eyes as her throat constricted, arms trembling. I was struck with the feeling it had not been the correct thing to say. She set the child down and pushed him inside.

"Nothing sweetie, why don't you run inside and check on the oven?" The boy squealed in excitement and ran inside, the woman left trembling alone. I suppressed a sigh and rose back to my full height, raising the loaf in my hand.

"My thanks for the bread, and my apologies for your partner." She nodded numbly, seeming to find a bit of courage.

"Di- Did he die well?" She asked softly, voice cracking.

"He did." I lied and she gave a small pained smile before excusing herself back inside the door, flipping a small sign to closed.

I sighed and continued upon my way, the people who had been watching, poorly hiding their interest by looking at dataslates or inside stores, disbanded.

The rest of my walk went undeterred, finishing the now cooling loaf as I walked up the steps the city hall. It was a large squat building and once inside I spent the day reviewing the last few months of progress, obtaining a more complete view of our next pass of expansion. They asked me again what was to be done about the native attacks on the woodsmen and soldiers who trained outside the walls.

I was torn upon this, knowing that there was a fair chance Aragorn would in fact conquer the people outside the walls that he was going to stay with. Becoming their leader would allow a smoother transition of power than if I mobilized our forces and marched against them. I bid them to wait and show a more aggressive response to any attacks, increasing the amount of patrols.

They were also pleased to inform me that the wood we logged and crafted was selling well, more than one small time trader from nearby worlds purchasing all we had to sell to wider markets. Anything made from a Space Marine world was of high value.

With my curiosity satisfied I informed them of Caldus and his intentions of testing the population for genetic purity. They assured me it would go smoothly.

For the next few months I let myself slip into an easy routine of work and rest. The Tech-priest Octavian gave a mild interest into the project, but Caldus refused to let him near it. Not all knowledge would be easily handed over to the Mechanicus.

Instead the Astartes worked through the nights alone while trying to remain indifferent. But I could see the interest that lingered within, the desire to rise to a challenge.

More of the Monastery was finished, more chambers and halls, defences and storage added to its list. Another several dozen serfs came to join us, those from a Capital that work up the courage to make the climb here. I would not turn them away, not when I needed every hand.

I heard nothing from Aragorn, but I had expected that, experiencing the freedom of the world for the first time.

The Naval Academy the Alexander had been building was nearing completion, a large showing among the population. The only problem there was the average level of education among much of the people. They knew their craft, and could learn newer ways to work with their hands, but the mind was harder to sharpen.

With this in mind I spoke again to the city council about further educational centers construction. Perhaps, in a few more years, we could start to induct more and more students.

The Capital itself continued to grow, more families coming from nearby worlds. Tales of glory had been spun about the war for Rivia, shining Tarth into the light of a savior, that our military had helped save an entire planet from a horrid plague. While it was a version of the truth, it also sung the praises of the Rivians, just not to the same extent.

Our troopers were outfitted with the heavy weapons and vehicles that came from the Forge-world. With ore coming back from Rivia, the Mechanicus honored their side of the bargen.

Chimeras and Sentinels came in huge shipping crates, all stored in warehouses in the military district. For weeks one could watch their massive shuttles hang in low orbit as they offloaded their cargo.

A few Leman Russ tanks, unpainted and bare, were quickly snatched up by different squads, their own training beginning on the use of the mighty warmachines. For myself, some of the storerooms in the Iron Mountain were filled with heavy metal crates of Space Marine gear. Heavy bolters, lascannons, ranks upon ranks of bolters and bolt ammunition.

Octavian assured me that soon I would be able to craft such items myself, the forges continuing their path towards fulfillment. I ignored the way more than one of each was missing from the equipment lists, wondering what kind of tinkering the Magos would do next.

I wasn't sure if I liked everything that came from the metal mouth of the Tech-priest, some of it bordering on heretical in the eyes of his fellow Mechanicus, but he was also an asset that I did not desire to lose, especially with my own actions of late.

I still needed to question him openly about his practices.

Walking through the Monastery I was scanning through an update upon the construction of our second Sword Frigate when a communication rune flashed in my vision. I accepted, the vox in my helmet coming to life and Richard's voice coming through.

"My lord I've just received a message from the Fortress relay that the Space Wolf vessel has finished entering orbit above." I felt myself smile at that. Of all the Chapters of Astartes I had expected to send assistance, the wolves of Fenris were at the top of the list, given our brief history together.

"Tell their shuttle to land at the Monastery, I will meet them myself." Quiet deep into the mountain my path back led me through many of the main passages. Every day more and more detail was added, more artworks, more hidden defences.

We were just starting to come out of the grips of a cold winter, the ground outside covered in a thick blanket of brittle fluffy snow. The thunderhawks were now stored in one of the completed hangers that was dug into the side of the mountain. When the doors were closed, it looked like seamless rock.

The walls that I had desired to build were also fully completed, a few squads of serf soldiers in thick winter clothing guarded the parapets and round towers. I had no expectation of an attack, but I wouldn't be too careful. Nobody got in and out of the Monastery without somebody knowing about it.

Anti-air turrets tracking the lighter gray transport as it came to settle over the barren courtyard, throwing snow up in a whirlwind that almost obscured the craft. Within a moment the doors were lowering and two figures strode out. One was covered in metal cables and chains, a few industrial servo arms connected to a large modified powerpack. A thunder hammer with the carved jaws of a wolf rested in both hands. An Iron Priest of the Space Wolves.

The other was just as impressive, a large pelt thrown over his powerpack, some massive black wolf, its paws falling past his neck. Around his waist was a belt of dangling fangs and skulls. His hands held a staff with an Aquila, more lifelike that I often saw, wings spread wide to proclaim its power.

Behind both men a number of hairy and hardy looking serfs worked, placing boxes on carts, pushed by servetors. I spoke first.

"Brothers, I welcome you to the Iron Mountain." The Iron Priest looked around for a moment, scanning the mountain face and walls around us. He was helmetless, and long hair ran down the front of his armor. It was banded in iron and gold, each engraved in their runic language.

"Is this the kind of defence that passes for Astartes Chapters now? How far indeed we have fallen brother." His words might have set off another, but I saw the grin hidden under his beard and reached out a hand.

"Still riding the glory of your Primarch? When was the last time you designed a fortress?" The Iron Priest grin widened and he was about to continue when the Librarian beside him elbowed him.

"Enough Marcus, we are here to assist, not judge." Cotus Blackwing reached out his hand and I gripped it, doing the same for Marcus.

"It has been to long cousins. You must tell me of the wider Imperium, I'm afraid I know very little of the north." Marcus turned and barked a few orders in his native tongue to those inside the thunderhawk before he nodded to me.

"We will indeed, meanwhile you can show us around this little mountain." I did so, taking the two inside and walking them around the halls. Meanwhile they filled me in on the occurrences of the last century since I had seen them. Eldar raids and Ork incursions filled most of their stories, massive Waaaghs or nobility bewitched with wraithbone trinkets.

"You should have seen the look on that Warbosses face, he never expected Cotus to summon a storm atop him." Marcus laughed at the end of his tale, while the Psyker only sighed.

"I only channel the powers of lighting brother, I am its conduit of wrath." Such powers were beyond me, but I remembered well the hair raising smell of ozone that accompanied the usage of such abilities, the destruction they could cause.

"It is a power that I hope will serve my own Chapter well in the future. I hope one day you will be able to show others such strengths." Cotus nodded and I led the two into the forges, filled with the smell of oil and hot metal, illuminated by fires and amber lumens.

"Pitiful, you call this a manufactorum? We have kilometers of forges on Fenris, and we use every bolt shell that comes out of it." I sighed a small bit as Marcus grinned and kicked a metal support beam.

"I told you it was still under construction, all of this is new." The Wolf snorted and crossed his arms, while Cotus gave an appreciative nod.

"It is well put together, small yet efficient. If Marcus is worth his weight in ale he will have Aspirants of your choice well trained in the arts." The Iron Priest snorted.

"I'm doubtful any of the welps on this planet could pick up our trade. If what's outside is what you consider winter, it's a soft lot you're working with." I could only shrug.

"I have yet to pick any, I have been awaiting the progress of Caldus." Both Wolves raised an eyebrow in question.

"He's an Ultramarine Apothecary that was sent to assist me." Marcus hacked something into a nearby fire, sizzling as it evaporates on hot coals.

"One of Guilliman's brood?" At my nod he made a sound of disgust, while Cotus looked thoughtful.

"The sons of Russ and Guilliman do not have the best history of working alongside one another, but we can try, for your sake."

"I would appreciate it. I will need each of you in the coming years." The sound of the door opening made me turn, seeing the servetors and serfs from the gunship coming in, carrying crates of supplies. Macrus just grinned.

"I hope you don't mind that I get comfortable here. Given how I'm going to be teaching your pups how to make a machine spirit swoon." The mortals moved past us and started to set their cargo down.

"Your welcome to it." I looked over the area and saw a workplace that was unmanned yet showed signs of use. Aragorn's workstation, I recalled, each of his tools were placed on rungs and well organized.

To my surprise Marcus walked his way over to it as well, nose twitching as he looked it over.

"Who worked here?" He asked while taking in a deep breath, cheeks twitching.

"Just a serf." The Iron Priest glanced at me and frowned before he replaced the hammer in its place.

"It smells like reptiles," He looked at me. "Like you do, but stronger, purer." I took that information with a blank look, hoping to move away from any conversation regarding the Primarch.

"There are mighty creatures named drakes that make their home at the very top of the mountain. I visit from time to time. I have been bonded with one of their members." Both gave confused or bewildered looks, Cotus speaking.

"Bonded with? Is this creature a psyker?" I shook my head, ignoring the way the Wolves eyes gleamed in the lower light.

"No, its, a bonding, but I've seen nothing to point to them being psykers. I know his emotions and we can share memories, but nothing more." I could see Cotus was hesitant, as any with his gifts would be.

"If it would help put your mind to ease I could call my companion here, you can witness the bond for yourself." The Astartes was silent for a long moment before he eventually shook his head.

"No, such a thing can wait a few days while we settle in. While Marcus sets up here, could you show me to your Librarium?" We bid the Iron Priest goodbye and made our way up through stairwells to where the Librarium had been built. Two large firelit torches flickered on each side of the long hallway that lead to the protected chamber. At its end, double steel doors slid open, our progress tracked by slaved turrets.

The bookshelves and tables that filled the chamber were carved from the rock itself, lumens of dull white augmented by the light of hundreds of candles. The fresh smell of paper and ink mixing with the scent of burning animal fat and smoke.

"I'm afraid you might find it barren compared to the heavy burden of your own shelves." Cotus cracked a small smile and let his gaze wander. A dozen meters off, a serf was seated at one of the stone tables, making copies of a telling of events from the war of Rivia. In painful detail I had put down all the events that had happened upon the planet in case it should ever befall us again.

Besides the ever present scratching of quills on paper, it was quiet enough that I could hear the idle thrumming of our powerpacks.

"It might be a bit barren, but I could set about adding a few things. Knowledge of what can be touched, and what should be avoided at all costs." It would be good warnings for any of my own Librarians who would come in the future. A Chapter as old and venerated as the Space Wolves would have a wealth of lore regarding the dangers of the Warp, dangers that my own would not know about, except through horrid trial and error that could lead to absolute destruction.

"I would welcome it, anything to give us an edge against the future." Cotus turned then, looking out past the wall with eyes that blazed with an unearthly glow. For a minute he was consumed by whatever he saw, and the fangs and bones that hung off him started to glow with a faint red and white light.

The air started to smell of rain and lightning, the hair on my neck starting to rise. Against myself my hand fell to the pistol I wore on my hip, centuries of indoctrination sending warning alarms sounding through my mind. I opened my mouth to ask about the display of power when he suddenly stopped, frowning and resting lightly on his staff.

"My apologies brother, I, thought I saw something." The Wolf looked puzzled for a few seconds, eyes unfocusing in deep thought. I spoke to clear the silence.

"There is no need to apologize, it has only been some time since I have worked alongside one with your gifts." Cotus snorted.

"Gifts, curses, call it what you will." He rested a hand on my shoulder plate for a moment.

"I will ensure that any you bring here with equal gifts understand the dangers of using such powers."

"Does that mean you will be teaching them your runes as well?" The Wolf stopped for a moment, looking pained.

"Perhaps not all of our secrets. Our way of working our gifts is not so widely accepted among the other Chapters." I shrugged.

"I know its power, I have seen some of your brothers and you work before. You are the fury of both storms and winters." Cotus brought a hand up to his chin, stroking his beard.

"I will consider it, but you must first get an Aspirant who is powerful enough to join. I will not train weaklings." He finished with a serious look.

"I have long wondered how I should go about my selection process. Caldus thinks I should follow the Ultramarine way, with schools and tests of fortitude. What says you?" The Space Wolf considered the question for a few seconds.

"Perhaps he would have you picking nobles and highborn, stuck up and haunty like so many of his brothers. We scanned plenty of life signs on the planet. Surely you can have some of the local population added to your ranks."

I thought on that, knowing that I had shoved the problem of the natives away in my mind to deal with more instant problems. But still wanting to get them under our banner How to go about the task was another matter completely. I didn't even know the peoples language.

Perhaps Aragorn would be able to prove helpful in that regard.

"That is a good idea for the future, but for right now those from the city will have to do. I have yet to bring the locals into the Imperial fold." Cotus seemed surprised at that.

"You mean that the planet isn't yours yet? The people here are self ruled?" I nodded.

"They seem to be a collection of city states, from what we have observed. I haven't set scouting parties out among the world yet, I still have fortifying to do within this sector." The Space Wolf hummed in thought.

"I wonder sometimes what Fenris was like before the Great Wolf brought its people under our dominion. Not that we actively rule them. " He lost himself in memories and paused, before blinking them away.

"It would make recruiting a little more of a challenge I suppose, but I have not worked on that side of the process before. I spent more time breaking the minds of the weak." He brought up a good point. There were qualities that one had to have to be a Space Marine, they couldn't be beaten or forced upon you. It was innate, something that could be brought out through training and discipline, like polishing metal till it shined.

"I must admit I do not know much of your recruitment rites, but I have seen the Blood Claws that come from its trails. They are a ferocious bunch." The Psyker smiled a bit at that, fangs flashing in the candlelight.

"That they are. But they tame with age and experience. I doubt your own recruits will be so rambunctious." I chuckled and shifted my boots slightly, angling them towards the door.

"I will leave you to settle yourself as Marcus has. Sometime within the next few weeks I might head to the city and start to bring younglings here." Marcus tilted his head.

"Starting them young?" I nodded.

"No offence brother, but I hope starting them early will ensure a more, level, field of discipline." The Wolf only grinned and turned to wander deeper into the library, leaving me to own devices.

I left behind the scent of wax and dust for blood and sterilization. Into the Apothecarium claimed by Caldus. He was standing at a table as I entered, pushing glyphs on a machine as it spat out scrolls of data he read at a glance. In the white light his noble features were shadowed, making him look grim.

"Chapter Master." He said without turning, blue eyes flickering in my direction before they resumed their reading.

"Caldus, I wanted to inform you of the arrival of the others." He finally broke from his musing to look at me fully, one perfect eyebrow raising.

"And which of our cousins have joined us after all these months?"

"The Space Wolves." The Son of Ultramar actually paused for a moment, his jaw tightening and a straining breath leaving him.

"Are you sure you desire the assistance of those barbarians?" I ignored the small bard, knowing I shouldn't take sides.

"I will take all the help I could get during this time." Caldus's face stayed carefully blank.

"I appreciate the warning, but while you are here I had a few questions for you." I took a step towards the machine, trying to see what he saw.

"The DNA you gave me, I've found a number of altercations that I feel should be brought to your attention before we continue forward." I motioned for him to go on.

"There is, reptilia segments attached to the strands, it affects the complete chemical makeup in ways that are," He paused to think about his next words, and a small snort left him in mirth. "It reminds me of the Space Wolves own genetic code. Or what I have heard about it anyways" On one of the tables a machine wirled and rattled for a moment, before falling back to quiet function. He continued.

"I must again ask if you will not take the Geneseed that I have brought with me. There is enough to start here, in a number of years you can remove the glands and start anew, there is no reason to continue the creation of a new strand. I can send for more of my brothers to come and help teach and train as well." I was shaking my head before his question was even finished, settling my armor into a more comfortable stance.

"I am honored by your request, but I cannot accept. It is important to me and the future of this Chapter that we use the genetic material that I have provided for you." His eyebrows furrowed.

"I do not understand your desire, but so be it. I believe that I'm making good progress on the creation. A breakthrough, if you will." He turned towards the closest machine and pressed a few runes on its surface.

"Another seven or so months, and I may have something workable." I felt my eyebrows raise.

"So soon? Do you think I could start recruitment?" The Ultramarine tilted his head in thought before he nodded.

"With a reasonable margin for error, you should be able to start whatever trials you have planned. The younger the better, in most cases. The Codex Astartes lays down a well proven path for the selection process. Should you desire to follow its wisdom." He all but muttered the last part, but I heard it just as clearly. He had been alarmed upon learning that there was only a single copy inside the Fortress upon his arrival.

"I have a plan for that, but I'm sure it will fall outside the satisfaction of both you and the sons of Russ." Caldus continued to tinker with his machine.

"Wonderful, then you can have disappointment from multiple sides at once."


Notice: All content after this mention should be considered non-cannon for the Iron Drake setting. Chapters are being replaced and this warning moved as they are. I am doing this as to not confuse anybody who might be going through the story for the first time. Apologies for this transition period.