Chapter Ten.

POV. Chapter Master.

The week after the Space Wolves arrived I descended once more to the city. There, in the largest plaza, the four hundred meter square hosts a statue of the Emperor watching over all who passed through. It depicted him as a warrior, blazing sword held aloft, a serpent crushed under one boot and mouth opened in a soundless roar of victory.

The people called it Triumph Square, although most of the time it was filled with merchants trying to sell their wares to passerbys. A stage had been constructed one the northside, an announcement going out over the city's holovids and vox stations, telling all who was able to come, and bring their families.

I walked up the stage, ceramite thudding on the rich red wood, looking out over the sea of faces. The entire plaza was filled, with more hanging out of windows or crowding streets that lead into the space.

There was a microphone there for me, but I knew I wouldn't need it. I tuned my voice amplifier to a high level, but not enough to damage those that crowded around the front. Their gazes were filled with awe and vigor, more than one possibly guessing the reason for this summons. I raised a hand and silence descended.

"People of Tarth," I began, gesturing out towards the mass of pressed bodies. Every eye was upon me.

"When I first arrived here, I came with a mission, a goal given to me by the High Lords of Terra, and through them, the Emperor who we all serve. I came here to establish a new Chapter of Space Marines, to build a bulwark against the aliens and traitors that would see our light stamped out from the stars." I let my voice rise incrementally, slowly building up the energy of the crowd.

"But I cannot do this alone. Already you, the people of Tarth, have given much to me. You have left your homes and lives behind to come here, to help me build this planet up. You have given yourselves to my army and served with distinction and pride. But I must ask even more from you.' The people leaned in, wrapped up in the vigor of so many souls gathered for a singular purpose.

"The time has come for the Iron Drakes to welcome its first brothers into the fold. I ask you now, who will give up their sons to me, so that I might remake them, so that they will know no fear, to stand as champions against the darkness."

The crowd was silent, digesting the words before shouts broke out, dozens of fathers or mothers raising their shocked children in the air, or for some, holding them close.

I gestured for quiet and gestured with an open hand to the dozen serfs on either side of me.

"These men and women will assist you if you wish to have your son join. Know this, not all will be accepted, but there is no shame in this. Even those who try and fail should be honored for the attempt."

It took the next two days, with those who had listened from their homes coming to the plaza. So much so it had caused disruptions to the transit lanes. I only took those from ages six to eight. Many parents tried to argue with the serfs about this, claiming that their child was younger than they looked. It didn't take much for records to be pulled and the truth found.

By the end of those days I had forty five children before me, my thunderhawk, Blade of Tarth, or so the crew had named it, sat idling behind me. We stood at a nearby landing zone, the parents of those selected saying last goodbyes and whispering words of encouragement to their offspring. Some that came had been orphans, their caretakers bringing them forward if they were of age. I knelt before the youthful faces before me, some eyes filled with determination, others with fear.

"From this day onwards you will be known as Aspirants. You are fledgling members of the Iron Drakes Chapter. It is a great honor, and you will be expected to conduct yourself accordingly." The youthful faces looked at me in silence, stunned by the armored giant now just before them. Looking out over the faces I was surprised to see Erik among them, and looked into the crowd to see if his mother was around.

She was nowhere to be seen.

Erik didn't seem saddened by this, his face beamed up at me with nothing but childlike eagerness, grinning widely. I turned, motioning to the children and the serfs to climb inside.

They did so, many of them marveling and chattering among themselves, fear momentarily forgotten. The transport's mighty engines thundered into life, yelps of surprise coming from many of the kids. We rose up slowly, David taking care not to jostle the occupants.

While we flew I tried to study each child, getting a feel for if they were Aspirant material. Some, those already cowering behind others, tears or snot running down their noses, I knew might not make the cut. Perhaps I could bring out some resolve, but only the future knew.

The door to the bay opened and many gasped at the cold that came rushing in. The serfs herded the group towards the large front doors, which rumbled and swung open a few meters to allow us inside. There they huddled around the large hearth that burned inside the First Hall, a heavy bed of coals chasing away the creeping cold.

I let them rest long enough to return warmth to their fingers before ushering them deeper in, many times a serf having to stop one or more from wandering off. Soon enough we reached Caldus, standing in front of his Apothecarium with arms crossed, his face stern. I saw the slightest raise of an eyebrow as he casted a quick glance at the assembled group, before pointing at one in the front.

"You will be first, come." Thorak stood rooted to the spot before a kind hearted serf helped him along, the trio disappearing inside the chamber. A few minutes later and they returned, another selected to take their place. This continued for the better part of two hours, some taking longer than others.

The group was quickly divided into those that met the minimum genetic requirements, and those that did not. Out of the initial fourty, thirty made the cut. Those that didn't, the fearful and weak, were sent back to their families or offered a place as serfs of the Chapter. Some, mostly the orphans,took up the offer and were taken away from the others.

Those that remained, Erik and Thorak among them. From there they were shown to rooms and given something to eat. The other Astartes and I gathered together in a small meeting chamber to discuss their future.

"They have passed the genetic testing, but we cannot be sure they have the needed mental requirements to be Astartes, Cotus, I believe you can be of assistance in testing this?" Caldus asked, to which the psyker nodded.

"I have experience in bending the minds of Aspirants. I will test their mettle when it is asked for." Marcus broke in, leaning in on the table.

"You have still been stingy with how exactly you are going to go about training the welps as well. It is time to tell us, what kind of trials are you going to put them through?" All eyes turned, and I began.

"It is my hope, and the reason that I have brought them in while being so young, that trials will not be needed." Their response was immediate, Caldus frowning, while Marcus scoffed in disdain. Only Cotus looked inquisitive, and I continued.

"Each of your worlds has its own trials, for the Ultramarines, endurance tests, or challenges measured by their degree of failure. On Fenris you throw yours to the wolves and hope for them to survive." I considered my next words, but decided to speak openly.

"I do not wish to waste the lives of any who would join my Chapter. Some may die, I expect this, and understand it. Accidents happen, training mishaps or perhaps they will die to the forest's beasts. But these are children, young, moldable. Why make them do endurance tests when I can train them to survive any environment, harden them like a blade being forged." I turned my attention to the wolves.

"Your tests are perhaps even harder, giving them the bare minimum and asking them to return to the Fang. But your people are hardy, you recruit yours older and augment them before this trial. All the qualities you look for during this, fortitude, mental and physical strength. Can that not be taught, be trained and instilled?" Marcus was the first to respond.

"We put our Aspirants through so much because we expect much from them. How can we be sure that they will perform on the battlefield if they cannot survive their own world? Codling them will make your Chapter weak. Astartes cannot show compassion for those who wish to join our ranks. You dishonor us all if you let such stock into your ranks." The air was taunt, but I went onward, voice level.

"You seem under the misinterpretation that I will not be training them within inches of their fortitude, push them into situations that may take their lives if they are not strong or fast enough. Do not assume I do not know what it takes to make a Marine, I have served this long thanks to my own training. I stood slaying the enemies of the Imperium for a century while you were still yet a babe." The Space Wolf just sneered, mechadendrites snapping where they hung above him.

"I suppose we will see, but I won't train any that I don't find worthy." We held each other's gaze for a long moment before Caldus cleared his throat.

"I agree with you on this. But perhaps a compromise would be best." Marcus snorted, mechadendrites snapping.

"A compromise, ever the Ultramarine diplomat." Caldus pointedly ignored him.

"I suggest a combination. For now the children will be trained. Education, martial skill, weapons instruction. There are dozens of area's we must cover, including the hypno-indoctrination. In a few years time, when they are older and better trained, they will have trails put before them that test what they have learned, to ensure a level of aptitude. Is this agreeable?" Those around the table nodded, and I found myself grateful for his assistance.

"Good, then I believe we all have our work ahead of us." This was true, and the Ultramarine and Iron Priest left, Marcus's bionic hand tight around his hammer. I was left alone with Cotus, who sat in silence for a minute, brow furrowed in thought. Finally, as I was about to get up and leave myself, he spoke.

"Tell me, are any of those you gathered today of psychic might?" I shook my head, fingers tapping on the table in a rhythm from my homeworld, a five beat tempo that was easy to maintain.

"I could not say, you might need to test those of the group yourself." I considered the chronometer on the edge of my helmet's hud.

"They might all be asleep by now, if you desire to check." He pondered that for a few seconds, and started to stand.

"I will, the longer any are left alone without training the greater the risk they pose to the planet." I knew he was right. I did have standing orders for any psykers found to be rounded up and placed into a secluded underground facility that was guarded at all times, empty or not. But as of yet, there were no reports of any being found.

It was the greatest worry of perhaps any planetary leader, their world descending into chaotic madness to do an unfound psyker who listened to the whispers from beyond. I had an agreement with Micheal about this already, any we found would be held until he could come to collect them upon his ship, and brought to a Black Ship. It was a harsh thing, from what I had heard, but necessary.

So much of what we sacrificed was for tomorrow's survival.

I looked up as Cotus left, the back of his wolf pelt rippling behind him as his boots carried him away.

Tomorrow will be a busy day.


I wake the Aspirants in the early morning, the lot of them coming out of their rooms in a dozen states of being. Some had red rimmed eyes from crying, some had dark circles. Only a few looked properly rested, but all gazed up in awe at the three new figures before them.

All of their teachers had gathered for this first day. Marcus only gave me a passing glance. I addressed the gathered children, huddled together in a blob.

"Today will be the most important of your life. It is the first on your new path to become protectors of humanity, slayers of the Xenos, the heretic and traitor." I gestured to the Astartes behind me.

"These men behind me will be your teachers, as I will, and together we will mold you into something greater than yourselves." A few of them perked up a bit, but it seemed my words were largely lost in tiredness or a lack of understanding. I could hear the smallest snicker of laughter behind me, and motioned for them to follow.

"We begin. Come, and keep up." Their first trial of the day was getting something to eat, a nutrient filled meal that many of them looked somewhat quessy about ingesting. After that it was to a training hall, where for the next few hours I tried to get a general understanding of their physical ability.

After that it was on to education, Caldus volunteering this time and lead them through a history lesson of how we Astartes had gotten our start, our long legacy and honored roles. Halfway through the day Cotus pulled me aside in the back of the lesson hall and gestured towards one of the youths, a small boy with green eyes and black hair. Out of all his peers, he was perhaps the one most enraptured by the lesson.

"That one there." The wolf whispered. "He has a brighter signature than the others, quite powerful." I recalled his name was Solomon.

"Do you already know what kind of training he will receive?" Cotus had been tight lipped about it as of yet, but as Chapter Master, I hoped he would be sharing it soon.

"I do. The greatest danger is from those on the other side. I will teach him basic abilities, let him get a small feel for his powers inside a protected space so that he can understand what he is, and then I will teach him of the dangers of using those powers for greater things."

"Protected space?" I asked? Cotus smiled cheekily, something that looked off alongside his large fangs.

"I might have, taken a bit of your Librarium and converted it to my own needs. A place that no fowl warp creature could ever penetrate. It might be some of my finest work, if I do say so myself." I raised any eyebrow at that, but continued.

"So you will be teaching them about your runes then?" The Storm Caller nodded, resting slightly on his staff.

"I was more surprised when you first asked than desiring to refuse. Not many think our runes are anything but foolishness, that they have real power." At the front, Caldus's eyes flickered to ours before he returned to his lesson. Currently he was still speaking of the Great Crusade, and largely of the Ultramarines.

Later in the evening the children were given another meal, and a different training hall. There they were given up wooden blades so I could bring them through a short series of forms that I had learned when practicing my own swordcraft.

I watched Erik and Thorak closely, one was quiet and diligent, while the other was rambunctious, energetic and tried to spar with at least two of his peers. Only one accepted, a larger boy at the cusp of the acceptance age named Thudin. He had a brutish face, even for a child, with a cracked nose and bruises on his arms.

I watched as the boys all crowded around them, all but a few having forgotten the set of moves I had just shown them in childish fervor. The two combatants faced one another before Thudin struck at him, swinging with all his might. Erik ducked, grinning all the while as he twirled and caught a blow in the back for his trouble.

He yelped and arched forward, retreating a few paces and swinging again. Thudin deflected in a basic block before bringing his practice blade down on the others fingers. There was a sharp crack and Eric started to scream. Thudin wasn't done, as the young boy fell to the ground, one hand clutching the other, his blade rose and fell again, striking the younger boy on his side. Erik scrambled backwards, but his sword was gone now, dropped as his finger broke.

Thudin advanced on the younger boy, his arm raised high to bring it down upon him again. There was a fury in his eyes, a desire to display and act upon violence. Seeing that Erik would gain nothing from a beating, I caught the blade.

"That is enough, you won." To my surprise the boy turned to me and looked up with absolute pride in his gaze, overjoyed by the recognition. His anger having vanished. I waited for a moment, wondering what he would do next, but he only turned back to his defeated opponent, and stood over him to preen. It was a different boy that went forward to help Eric.

Malachi removed himself from the throng of watching children to help Eric to his feet, taking one of his arms around his shoulders before he looked up at me, face serious

"Can I take him to Caldus Chapter Master?" He asked in a soft voice, I nodded, motioning to one of the waiting serfs to accompany them. The trio left and all faces turned back to me.

"Back to your places, we have more practice to do."

Such became our routine, history and purpose woven together, alongside training of their physical and mental aptitudes. By night Cotus pushed them in their dreams, his victims always dark eyed the next day.

The bout that Thudin and Erik had spurred on similar actions from the others, and soon enough the day's melee training ended in a spar between its members. I was truthfully delighted by this, keeping a mental track of those who excelled, those who did not.

At the weapons range they were given stub rifles to familiarize themselves with the feeling of a gun in their hands, the kick it made and how to clear jams or other malfunctions. Marcus gave them a blindingly quick demonstration on how to break down such a weapon to only its basic parts. Most of the children stared dumbfounded, but when I gazed out among them, standing at their tables, gray cloth spread across it with the weapon they had just fired, two of them actually started.

They were Bran and Mortis, both the age of seven. Marcus stalked down the rows and came to stand between them, both of them at slightly different stages of the display. He stood there and watched as they finished, Bran half a minute before the other boy. Marcus only turned on his heel and went back to the front.

"Well, what's the rest of you got for excuses, try it again!" He all but boomed, and they tried it again.

Sometime as the days passed Solomon was plucked up and stopped coming to as many classes, him and Cotus disappearing into the library for long hours. On off days he would participate in his normal training.

During an evening prayer, when we venerated the Emperor and renewed our litanies of devotion, our oath to purge the unclean, slay the Xenos. I noticed one of the boys, Invictus, face screwed up in anger as he looked up at the face of the Emperor.

I made notes of this, another in the files upon each of the Aspirants.

Despair returned to the Monastery that week, having been off hunting in the wilds for some time. He came to find me, and it was the first time I had seen him since Aragorn had left. He had grown large, standing almost thrice my own height, the horns on his head thick and curved, his tusks still red from dried blood and the bark he tore trying to scrape it off.. He shook the ground now, powerful forelimbs that could rip apart armor, his overlapping scales having only grown thicker.

It was to the surprise of both my Astartes brothers and the Aspirants when I met them that morning with the lumbering footfalls of Despair behind me. In an instant the Marines had hands on their weapons, Caldus's bolt pistol half drawn.

"What in the Thrones name is that?" He asked. Despair stretched his thick neck down so that I might scratch an itch under the spike like bones that grew along the sides of his skull.

"This is Despair, my companion." The lot of them looked on in disbelief before Marcus started to laugh. It was a booming thing, fighting and bewildering the children around him.

"I knew there was something off about you, but I didn't know what till now." I wasn't fully sure what to make of that, but my attention was drawn by the way Cotus was looking between the two of us.

"It makes sense now." He finally spoke, gathering an eyebrow raise from the other Astartes. He didn't expand upon his comment, leaving Caldus to ask.

"Explains what cousin?" The Librarian glanced at the Ultramarine and shrugged.

"Something I noted upon my arrival, but hadn't been able to confirm until now." The son of Guilliman waited for him to finish his explanation, and made a noise of frustration when he didn't. Instead, he rounded to me.

"Explain this." I looked to the children that were still staring up at Despair in open mouthed awe, and gave him a mental nudge towards them. He accepted grudgingly, and walked the few paced towards them before laying down. The floor shook and I went to stand beside his head, looking to Caldus.

"Despair and I share a connection, a bond, if you will." Marcus and Caldus both frowned.

"Why was I not made aware of this? Did you not think it would be important to share such information?"

I had not.

"Does it matter? They will not be getting a Drake, and as of yet only I have one." That wasn't totally true of course, and I saw Cotus's eyes flicker to my mine. He knew something, of that I was now sure. Perhaps to ones surprise, Marcus took a few steps towards Despair, looking him up and down.

"You got any more of em? Ones you wouldn't mind me killing? It's been a boring few weeks." One of Despair's eyes turned to look down at the Space Wolf, a low rumbling growl that shook the floor and unsettled the dust that clung to the lumens above us. Marcus's grin grew.

"O, I don't think he likes the sound of that. Protective is he?" Despair rose up from where the children had been tentatively surrounding his great head and put his snout a meter from the Space Wolf. He blew a puff of air out his nostrils, ruffling the Marines hair. I stepped in, feeling Despairs growing urge for violence. Those outside his family were to be dominated, and Marcus was showing defiance.

"That's enough. I only wished to show the Aspirants what they too may one day have as a companion. If they rise to the challenge." One slit eye glanced at me and Despair rose, almost smacking Marcus with the end of his tail as he went thundering down the hallway.

The days started anew, four Astartes trailing behind the children as they walked towards their meal hall. I half listened to them as we did, their adolescent voices complaining about the nightmares they had almost every night. I looked at Cotus.

"I never did ask, what are you putting them through?"

"A lesser version of what I used to put our own Aspirants through. Being hunted, fighting for ones life, resisting temptation." Guided by waiting serfs the children went for their morning meal, Caldus and Marcus excusing themselves to ready their days lessons.

"And Solomon?" The Rune Priests face furrowed for a moment, shadowed by the amber lumens above. The faintest scent of food lingering on the still air.

"He is showing promise, eager for learning. He never realized he had powers until now, and getting him to tap into them was a challenge at first. He is a bit," He looked for the word. "Timid."

"That will fix itself, with time and training."

Train they did. Days to weeks and weeks to months. We began pushing them hard then, pressing them even when they wanted to give up or return home. Weapons were expected to be stripped and cleaned in minutes, kilometer long runs were finished, one way or another. Bruises and broken bones were expected with melee training.

It never brought me any satisfaction, looking down at them with a cold heart and ordering them to run another lap, to push themselves on obstacle courses or handing out punishments for those who were unable to keep up.

Some died, training accidents, life fire training drills gone wrong, two had cracked under Cotus's mental punishments. We hid this from the other children, the screams of the broken quietly muffled and silenced. Bodies taken away in the night.

We buried them in a small hall deep within the Iron Mountain, a small marker for those who had given their lives for the Chapter. Fallen so to others might rise.

Others of those who came with us were cut from the program, unable to keep up, unable to bring themselves to claw for the extra inch at the end of their strength. They were handed over to Richard and clad in the robes of the Serfs, going forward to find a life of service to the Chapter.

For those who struggled and overcame the challenges before them, they gained strength, purpose and confidence.

This purpose was tempered and honed into a weapon to slay the enemies of mankind.