Apologies for not catching the mess up from the previous upload, but I am certain this one went through properly.
Chapter 3: Unusual Company
My time spent on Terra was more than just educational, it was fulfilling in many regards, but it was also highly amusing. According to the Imperial calendar, it was then the 821st year of the 30th millennium, and had been two years since the rediscovery of my brother Leman Russ. Although I was limited to traveling around the Inner Palace, I was not opposed to this, as the overwhelming size of the Emperor's great city was frankly too much for me. I believe many suspected that I had no concept or had an understanding of the advanced technologies of the Imperium, as I hailed from a clannist culture that had not retained the knowledge of aviation. In truth, while it was jarring to see such incredible advancements that were commonplace on Terra, Arcadia still had its share of working technology. From automatic rifles, fuel powered automotive vehicles, ammunition production, albeit it was a slow handmade process, there were even some clans that had found and learned how to operate laser mining equipment, which was how I obtained adminatium piecemeal armor. Purely mechanical devices I was able to fully comprehend, but it was those electronic or cogitator powered devices that I struggled to fully understand, even after a few months on Mars learning from a techpriest.
However, the most important lesson I learned on Terra, was that Malcador was potentially more dangerous than the Emperor, and I do not make such a statement lightly. I came to this realization after a lengthy history lesson, followed by a strategy game called regicide in which Malcador challenged me to defeat him without using any of my gifts. Of course to assure me that he would not probe into my mind, one of the Silent Sisters closely spectated the game, and her proximity canceled out any external facets of our gifts. We did not play in silence however, as Malcador asked me various questions, and attempted to get emotional responses from taunts or feints.
"Tell me Arwyn," he began slowly, "Why can you not fully believe in the Imperial Truth?" I halted in moving one of my pieces to capture one of his, but after a moment proceeded with the movement. I searched his eyes, and found that not even a crack in the mask he wore, truly he was a master of concealment. By this point, aside from the presence of my accent, my usage of both of the dominant gothic dialects was fluent.
"I believe you've read the reports from my father's companions," I answered slowly, "Is that not enough?" Malcador had made it no secret that he was disappointed about the conditions the Emperor had agreed to earning my allegiance to the Imperium and Great Crusade, but we had never spoken about it in depth before. It seemed that we would do so not only in the presence of a Silent Sister, but during a game of wits.
"I find that hearing such things for myself helps me see the truth of matters such as this," he answered dismissively, "Besides I am curious to know the depths of your thoughts on the matter." For a brief moment, I considered leaving the room, but stubbornly resisted the thought, as I refused to show anything other than confidence in my own beliefs, especially to Malcador.
"As I have stated before Sigillite," I gently sighed, "I agree with the spirit of the Truth's intention. On Arcadia I faced twisted pysckers who worshiped gods, cults that would perform deprived evils upon strangers and loved ones alike, and warred against the cruelty of those you call the Dark Eldar. I learned that there are no gods worthy of mankind's worship or attention, for they care for nothing but their own worship, never the fates or lives of those who follow them." I allowed a small fraction of my emotion to bleed into my words, to show my conviction and true feelings, but I did not let everything flow forward. I took a breath before continuing my explanation.
"But it is also human nature to desire something greater than themselves," I added, "I think it admirable to focus attention on scientific advancement and reason, but eventually surely some will search for answers beyond those provided by science. People are not constructs, often when you tell them not to think about a grox, they'll imagine a grox. The same thing applies to the denial of the human soul, not everyone will agree with such a sentiment. Especially those who have managed to hone the psychic gift, they might reject the notion of denying the existence of souls." Malcador executed a move that captured one of mid board pieces, but also forced me to sacrifice either one of my forward attackers or defenders on my next turn.
"You are not wrong, Arwyn," he admitted, "But you are assuming that we wish for humanity to stay as it is. You are wrong. For too long mankind has been left to its own nature, and in spite of the moments of brilliance it has shown, ultimately it falls back to their ancient ways and squanders their potential. Often it was a barbaric and heartbreaking sight, so be grateful that you were not here to witness the horrors of Old Night. Although, perhaps you would not cling to such naive traditions and views if you were." I felt anger surge through my body, every fiber in my muscles tensed visibly, I swear Malcador's mask cracked for a moment and I caught an almost smug glint in his eyes. The Silent Sister also placed one of her hands behind her hip, and I faintly heard the gentle sliding of metal. My anger swelled, but I refused to let it consume me, mentally reciting the first song of serenity, then let out a deep breath, and reassessed the game board.
"While I respect you Malcador," I began, "I warn you to speak not of things that even you fail to appreciate. True, Arcadia's current culture might seem primitive to one who enjoys such advancements as you have. Yet, it was thanks to the principles of its culture that I reclaimed it from our true foes. I challenge you to find another world that can claim such an accomplishment. Nor will I suffer the worship of gods, or anything that does not promote the strength of the human spirit. Perhaps surrounded by such advancements, Malcador, you have forgotten that often a simple solution can be the greatest." I had raised my voice towards the end, but I was not ashamed of this, but I could not shake the feeling that I had fallen for a ploy. Both in the discussion and our game, as I chose to sacrifice my forward piece in favor of defense, but instantly recognized that it only set up Malcador to break through my defensive line next turn. He flashed me a wolfish grin, which felt sinister on such an ancient face.
"Perhaps you are right," he admitted as he captured my attacker, "Perhaps only time will time if your ways will work or not? I will have to keep a close eye on your actions then, dear Arwyn. Be warned though, failure delivers its own consequences." It was the first time anyone on Terra had so boldly made a veiled threat to me, and while I imagine it was intended to bring my thoughts crashing to a halt, instead a surge of speed coursed through my mind. I became instantly aware of the falling dust particles in the room, and watched as they barely moved under gravity's weight. My eyes darted across the board, studying the placements of our pieces, and recalled Malcador's moves throughout the game. At first, it seemed that he would have me cornered and beaten in three more moves, fitting given the subtle threat he had leveled at me, then I noticed something, a tiny flaw in the placement of his pieces. Then I saw something I had not noticed when I first reviewed the Imperial Truth, and a plan took form in my mind; and then the particles drifted down as normal. I calmed my breathing, and looked into Malcador's eyes.
"I am sure you will, Sigillite," I replied, "But while you focus your attention on me, mine will be on the future that lies ahead of me." I enacted my plan, setting bait on the board that I doubt even he would resist, and I noticed that he had not expected my response to his cutting remarks. On some level, that was the most satisfying moment in my long life. As petty as that is, I cannot deny that defying the Sigillite's expectations brought such wonderful joy to me.
"And if that future involves a breach from our enemies?" He asked as he captured the bait, falling into my trap. Yet, I could not allow him enough time to catch onto my plan, and so I pressed on with our debate as I moved my pieces, forcing Malcador to rapidly respond to my movements on the board.
"Then I will fight against them," I said without hesitation, "Whether they're aliens or not, I will not allow humanity to be shackled and enslaved to those who would lord over them and merely see them as fodder. I will not hesitate to tear down the worship of any deity, for there are none in this galaxy that are caring towards any life. For I have brought down those who have abused their born mystic gifts, selling away their souls for trickles of power which they couldn't hope to understand. I have led campaigns against hateful aliens that sought only the suffering of my people, even if I didn't accomplish it alone, I succeeded in driving them out, and I won't hesitate to persecute other foes with the same wrath." The gentle placement of our game pieces accompanied the passion in my words, and I was no longer even looking at Malcador, instead my attention was on the board.
"I believe in the dream of this Imperium," I continued, "I believe in strengthening all our people. Should that mean it must be done through a lie? Then so be it. For the lie is sincere, and allows us to grow stronger, before we must ultimately face the true foe." With that last word, I had cornered Malcador's regent piece, and slowly I saw the realization daw behind his eyes that he had been beaten. I remember expecting him to frown, or show some sign of displeasure, instead…he smiled.
"Well spoken Arwyn," Malcador cheered gently as he knocked over his regent, surrendering, "Apologies for the severity of my words, I simply had to hear the conviction in your voice." That was why I fear Malcador more than my father. The Sigillite is such a master of subterfuge that he makes my father look like a novice, but I do not for a second doubt that he would not make good on his threat if I was ever found lacking. I doubt even Constantin Valdor, Captain General of the Emperor's Ten Thousand, could match the cunning of the Sigillite, or the threads in which he could pull. Truly, aside from the Emperor, Malcador is the most powerful and dangerous man to ever live on Terra. However, I cannot deny that the man was very accommodating, at least when he was not making veiled threats.
Five of the huntsmen that I brought with me had survived the Astartes procedure, and while collectively we mourned those who did not, we were grateful for the five that had. Malcador provided them with both accommodations and a training ground. I spent time helping them adjust to their new size, and capabilities by training them personally. I remember the first of my Arcadian genesons well, Talius the Spearman, Cadhan O' Muiris, Derwydd Anwill Moorse, Lugh O' Davins, and Raobull Sgot. I had fought alongside each of them before their ascension, some I had recruited into the Wild Hunt personally as a reward for their bravery against cultists or the sorcerer kings. Talius was one of the rare clanless ones, the man's proficiency with a spear made it seem as if the weapon were an extension of his body. Cadhan would have been a clan farmer, until he became a smuggler for refugees escaping the cruelty of the cults. Lugh was an expert marksman who rarely missed, and his greatest shot was when he had killed a cults leader from a mountain away. Raobull was a silent, brutal, yet honorable man, and favored confronting his foes face to face, before striking them down with his blades. Anwill hailed from a long line of drwydds that formed the core of the Hunt, and a seer who fought with as much determination as huntsmen.
I was impressed by their new capabilities, both with and without their power armor, but a part of me was disappointed that none of them were the equal of a Custode. Granted I had been told from the beginning that no single Astartes would be the equal for the ten thousand, but some part of me had hoped for a miracle. Regardless, their growth was incredible. After their ascension they had a complete grasp of Gothic that matched my own, Lugh's accuracy was even deadlier, and Anwill's gifts had grown in strength. At that time I had yet to decide on the new name and colors for my legion, so their armor was still an unpainted gray, but that did not stop them from painting woads and runes onto their plates. Something deep within me felt an overwhelming surge of pride when I first saw them standing in full power armor, and today I suspect it was akin to parental warmth. I had always been proud to fight alongside these men, they were worthy huntsmen, but now I felt a deeper connection with them, perhaps this was a result of their geneseed. Aside from joint melee training, I joined them in live ammo exercises, and I remember the impressive weight of the first boltgun I held, it was a twin barrelled phobos pattern model. The thing kicked with a force that would have torn a normal man apart, and I could sense that my sons were concerned when I squeezed my first shot. No doubt they were concerned that I had not yet received my own power armor, but according to the Mechanicum my requested personalizations for the armor were taking longer than originally intended.
The day I had finally been given my own suit of artifice power armor, which I was told was just as protective as tactical dreadnought armor, Malcador insisted on holding a galla in my honor. There I would be able to meet with some of the naval and army officers that would serve under me, and in truth I wanted to refuse, as I would have rather done anything else. Yet, Malcador had convinced my wives that I must attend such a gathering, and as any husband knows, you cannot argue with your wife, now imagine having three of them. The armor that had been crafted for me was engraved with various sigils and Arcadian runes, the breastplate was vermilion green, its pauldrons were polished bronze with gold edges, and the rest of the armor was silver.
There was a device Malcador called a psychic-hood, something he assured me would make it even easier to channel my gifts, and he was not wrong. Yet the helmet was something I had forged myself, resembling a helm of the Mark III Iron Power Armor, but I had shaped rims above the eye lens to resemble golden antlers of a stage, and embedded the Anam Gem into the crest. It was pure silver, with acid etched Arcadian runes along the faceplate, and painted blue. Instead of wearing a tallard like those of Ist Legion, I wore a replica kilt of my clan, and attached to my left vambrace was a mounting for a combi-stormbolter, I was told carrying weapons would be frowned upon for the gathering. A shame none of the nobility realized they were aware that they were gathered at a party for a living weapon. The rest of my retinue had joined me at the event, and did their best to mingle with the crowd.
"I don't believe I have ever seen so much jewelry on a single person," Ceri remarked seeing one of the matriarchs of a Navigator House, "Do you think the gold is real, Arny?" Yes, my wives had nicknames for me, and yes they were the only ones allowed to call me that. I turned my gaze toward the navigator she pointed out, I recognized her sigil and colors of House Alosa, and despite recognizing her influence, I cannot say I remember the woman's name. However, a quick glance at the various jewelry on her fingers, neckline, head, and ears, I was confident that while they were real gold, I had the distinct impression that every single piece was from another world. Perhaps trophies to mark her successful warp jumps to other worlds, it would not surprise me, as the Navis Nobilite were renowned for their pride and aversion to combat.
"They are Mo gra," I answered, "However, I wouldn't worry about it, you're more beautiful than her anyway." She gave me an amused look, knowing that being more attractive than a Navigator was not an oddity for standard humans, however, it did not change the truth of the matter. She still playfully punched me between my torso plates, and I chuckled as I pretended to drink the glass of amasec that had been given to me. Its flavor was too weak for me, and I could tell that even my wives were pretending to enjoy it. Morrigan and Lowri mingled about talking with the spouses of navy admirals, army generals, trying to ensure our forces in our section of the crusade would be on good terms. It reminded me of advice my father, Cadfel, had once given me in my youth.
"No matter how good a General's plans or how well organized their army, it a femine touch ensures that it will able work in unity, for no husband easily dismisses the words of his wife." I cannot deny the truth in his words, and these days I mourn the loss of my wives, for they were greater diplomats than those sent to me from Terra. Honestly, there are times I fear that the only thing Terra could produce in utter confidence were educated yet unqualified fools, and that galla was the inception of my belief. For I found the decor to be far to over the top, and excessively strange in taste. From a marble fountain of some imported juice, and mismatching floral arrangements that were clearly from too many different worlds. I will not even bother describing the arrogant fashion most of the attendants were dressed in, and was content talking with members of the Astra Telepathica and those soldiers that had been lucky to be invited. I was so certain that nothing noteworthy would happen that night, until one of the heralds stumbled in the room, looking as if he had seen a specter, and fumbled to activate his vox amplifier.
"My most esteemed lords and ladies of the Imperium of Man," he said with practiced clarity, "I have the honor of presenting one of the Imperium's brightest stars, he who has taken the name Lupercal, Lord of the Emperor's XVIth Legion, the Primarch of the Lunar Wolves, Horus." I do not believe I had ever snapped my head in a direction faster than in that moment. I knew the names of my discovered brothers, and studied their accomplishments, but never expected to meet any of them here, let alone the most promising warlord of the Great Crusade. He did not attend in his full battleplate, instead he wore what I could only assume was a ceremonial garb, simple chainmail, a single white armored gauntlet with matching waist guard with his signature ruby eye, red battle skirt, matching cloak with a massive white wolf pelt laid atop it, and simple furred boots. Never before had I seen such an elegant blending of civilized and primitive fashion, and I doubt I ever shall again. It was clear from his slight stubble that he had shaved in quite some time, yet it only seemed to magnify the regal authority in his stature. Until that night I had previously thought the stories of Horus' greatness were exaggerations, and in that moment I realized they failed to do my brother any justice.
Every single eye was trained upon him, all sound gently came to a halt, I could sense the shock and awe that radiated throughout the room. He gave the gentlest smile as he politely descended the steps, and joined the festivities, graciously accepting an offered glass, and greeted any that approached him or were in his way. Even his voice sounded perfect, it was kind yet stern and firm, carrying gently throughout the air. I wondered to myself briefly if that was how I was perceived by others, but reminded myself that I rarely spoke with professional tones unless on a battlefield. Many of my brothers would claim that they were the greatest of us, but I believe each of us knew that Horus had claimed that title long before any of us, regardless if he intended to or not. It was impossible to not note the similarities between us, there was a slight similarity to our faces, his physical strength also radiated in his every movement, but he was just a tad taller and his eyes were brown, where mine were emerald green.
Out of curiosity, I looked at him through the eyes of my gift, and it was overwhelmly brilliant. Not only did I see just how bright his soul burned, but I saw the great potential that surrounded him, how the other souls called his name. It was so moving, that a tear actually rolled down my cheek. When I returned to my physical senses, I finally noticed that Horus was moving in my direction, and for the first time in my life, I did not know what to do. Did I stay and converse with my brother, one who I could speak with as an equal in nearly every single aspect, or would excusing myself to a more private local better serve us? Ultimately, the decision was not made by me.
"Words cannot express how happy I am to see you, brother!" He said with gentle, yet booming, excitement, "When word reached me that another of us had been found, I simply could not wait, I hope you forgive me for crashing your celebration." I suddenly realized that many of the attendants, including my wives, had started to kneel in his presence, and no sooner did he realize this.
"Please, my comrades, do not bow to me," he pleaded, "Tonight is to celebrate the discovery of my brother, and his joining of our father's Great Crusade." That surprised me, even if it had been a clever ploy, I never expected Horus to be so humble to others, or that we shared a displeasure for the needless supplication from others. A heart beat later, and I regained myself and spoke clearly to my brother, letting my accent paint my words with relish.
"Well I can't say that I'm not surprised," I admitted aloud, "Nor can I say it's a bad one. Last I heard the Luna Wolves made war on the frontline. " He smiled at the informality, and to this day I am uncertain if it was genuine or not, but at that moment it felt real.
"I may have left command to my most trusted, before sneaking here," he admitted with a playful grin, "I am sure that victory can be achieved without me. Besides, I wanted to present my congratulations in person." Somehow I knew he was sincere, but could tell there was something he was avoiding, perhaps his first meeting with our brother Leman had not gone well, in which case I suppose he wished to assess me before I joined the war effort. I saw the tactical sense in it, after all we would likely have to work together in the future, and he needed to be sure we could at the very least get along. I suspected that meeting in such a public event was also another tactical choice, it would allow him to gauge if I was a simple brute or something greater. I honestly did not wish to disappoint him.
"From what I have read of your legion, brother," I chuckled gently, "I don't doubt that at all. Your Wolves have the true heart of warriors, and honor us all. But where are my manners? I am Arwyn Clay, Primarch of IInd Legion, but let us not speak of war this night, we have the Crusade for that, tonight let us speak as brothers!" I felt the faintest echo of surprise surge from him, but he masked it well, instead he grinned brighter, nodded, and took a sip from his glass, before stepping closer.
"Here here, brother!" He agreed, we engaged in pleasant conversation, I introduced him to my brides, and he congratulated me after learning how long I had been married. As we continued to talk, soon the party's atmosphere returned to normal, and after a while he motioned for me to join him in private on a balcony outside. I had no reason to disagree, and so I followed. When we were finally alone, he stretched out his arms and back, resulting in a few minor pops from his body, and his posture became more lax.
"Much easier to breathe outside the public eye, eh?" He joked.
"Indeed brother, aye," I agreed, "Even fully clad, I felt too naked in there." He gave a slight chuckle at that, then gave me a quick glance over.
"I will admit you are not what I expected," he said, " You are far more agreeable than I thought." I gently shrugged, resulting in a gentle pur from my armor.
"Family is an important part of life on Arcadia," I explained, "For many of the clans, that is all they truly have, and must band together for survival. Though I had many cousins from my…foster parents, a part of me longed for siblings of my own." It was the truth, when you grow up in such an unusual manner as I, you either long to be normal or for others to be just like you, and now my naive wish had come true. He was still smiling at me, and I realized that a gentle empathy entered his eyes.
"You still miss it don't you?" He asked somberly.
"What?"
"Your homeworld," he explained, "You miss it." Out of everything I expected him to say to me, that question would have never occurred to me, and I suspect he knew that. He was correct of course. How could I not miss Arcadia, it had been all I knew for so long, my entire life had suddenly changed, and now I was expected to wage a war of liberation across the stars in another's name.
"Aye," I sighed, "Can't deny that. I miss the simplicity of it all, back home our most advanced transport are these old buggies that need great care to stay running." He nodded when I finished.
"Understandable," he admitted, "I was a gang chieftain back on Cthonia, and sometimes I miss how simple those days were. Yet, I will be forever grateful that the Emperor found me, and showed me my true purpose in this life." He paused for a moment, and we both looked at each other.
"Give it time," he said, "I am sure that soon you will be glad that you have joined the Crusade. Just be sure to ignore any strange looks that others might give you." I raised a brow at him, and my expression spoke the question for me. He sighed gently.
"The Imperium will be humanity's greatest empire," he explained, "It shall be held to the standard of its Truth, yet I fear many will hold old prejudices, especially towards those with…unique abilities. Even those that are in the graces of we Primarchs."
"You mean the psyckers?" I asked, and earned a nod from him.
"Many fear and call them witches out of ignorance," he continued, "It saddens me, but perhaps with time, we will come to better understand what creates them, and they shall be seen in a much more favorable light." Never before had I ever exerted such control over myself, from my expressions and tone, I did everything in my power to sound as sincere as possible, all in an effort to maintain my oath.
"I see," I nodded, "Perhaps you are right, given time they might see those like myself in such a light. On Arcadia we call psyckers derwyyds, and they opposed those who abused their psychic gifts to enslave and twist those around them." It took everything I had to keep even a hint of my knowledge of what lies beyond reality from entering that conversation, I would not compromise Arcadia's future.
"What did you call these wild psyckers?" He asked genuinely curious.
"Sorcerer Kings, is what they called themselves," I answered, "They claimed to be blessed by gods, yet we knew the truth, they were slaves to their own madness and greed. There are no gods in this galaxy, none worth our attention anyway." It was not a complete and utter lie, as the sorcerers had been insane enough to bargain with forces they did not fully understand, and each of them had done it for greed.
"Was it difficult?" He asked, turning his gaze to Terra's skyline.
"It was war, Horus," I answered honestly, "War is always difficult. But if you're asking if I felt any kinship with them, then no. They made their choice to let their powers control them, I chose to do the opposite, all derwydds do." He smiled, a somber but honest smile.
"Perhaps one day," Horus mused, "You will show me Arcadia one day?" I paused for a moment, as I had never considered that possibility before. I had given deep thoughts as to how I would interact with my fellow Primarchs, but it never once occurred to me that one of them would ever wish to see Arcadia for themselves. Yet the more I thought of it, the more the idea satisfied some part of my soul, and slowly I nodded.
"Let us hope." I replied, then he slapped his gauntlet against my pauldron.
"I believe that is enough somberness out of us brother," he grinned toothily, "There is a party being held in your honor, and I have stolen you from it for long enough." I had decided at that moment that I liked Horus, and that if the spirits allowed it, I would defer to him should we ever share a warfront. I could feel the wisdom, and genius that shone behind his brown eyes, knowing that he had been waging war across the stars far longer than I. Such experience was to be respected properly, especially if I wished to bring victory to this Crusade.