A/N: A continuation of the last chapter!
Book Two: Corruption's End
Chapter 69: Family
"A society grows great when old men plant trees whose shade they know they shall never rest in." - Ancient Terran proverb, unknown origin.
Yang righted herself, struggling to her feet as she fought for breath. The Mistralan door had vanished, and the wall was a seamless corridor once more.
"But... why?" Yang asked, once she stood upright. "What about the Imperium?" She felt lost, adrift in a sickening tumult more nauseating than any river rapids. Yang looked at her old friend, finding something far more alien than she dared remember.
Are the sermons finally getting to me? Am I one of them now? Am I like Weiss?
"The Imperium is a carcass that has yet to learn it has died," Pyrrha said. "Humans cannot continue existing within such an entity, not without change that is far beyond their current means. I told you earlier - all that is born into flesh must one day die, and once the Emperor perishes, the Imperium will likely perish as well."
"Pyrrha..." Yang tried, unsure of what to say or how to say it. Did the eldar brainwash her?
As much as she wanted to believe it, she knew that was not the case.
"And the eldar?" Yang asked, far more weakly than she wished. "They're circling the drain too. Everyone is in this damn galaxy."
"You are not wrong," Pyrrha said. "Come. Follow me." She set down the hallway, wraithbone staff scuffing the floor rhythmically. Yang could only follow, sick to her fake stomach. What is Pyrrha talking about? Why has she turned her back on humanity?
Why?
"Pyrrha, if I'm right, then why are you helping the eldar? They treated you like dirt!"
"And has the Imperium been any different to you?" Pyrrha asked pointedly.
"Well... kinda!" Yang protested, pivoting so she could backpedal in front of Pyrrha. "I have friends."
"Worshippers."
"Not all of them," Yang said. "And even the ones that are... they're good people. They have hopes and dreams. They fuck and smile and joke and fight together. They're real, dammit! Human!" Yang emphasized, pulling at her flak armor.
"Their fate is regrettable," Pyrrha admitted sincerely.
Yang tugged on her golden curls, desperate to pull it from her roots. Is this really Pyrrha? How could she say something so callous?
"And the eldar are better then?" Yang asked. Demanded.
"Not at all," Pyrrha said. "Though they are not the monstrous aliens the Imperium would believe them to be. Nor are they the perfect, celestial creatures they pretend to be. They are flighty, conceited, obtuse, arrogant, beautiful, noble, and deeply wise. Do not think in black and white."
"You say that, but you just said you only care about the eldar."
"I only care about my family," Pyrrha corrected her. "And they are eldar of Il-Kaithe."
The infinite hallway turned an invisible corner, bringing the two women into some great longue. Great bubbles of silvery liquid climbed towards the ceiling, their origins invisible to Yang. A squad of Harlequins danced across the roof, treating gravity like a suggestion rather than a law.
"My family are half-breeds," Pyrrha said. "But they will not suffer for long. Here in the Black Library, I have endeavored to let them grow and live as never before."
Yang followed her friend hesitantly, watching the Harlequins pass above them. On an imperceptible cue, they pivoted to face Yang, eight clown masks boring into her with laser precision. She shivered.
"That sounds pretty ominous, Pyrrha," Yang said.
Pyrrha chuckled. "I suppose it did." She smiled, the same warm smile she wore back at Beacon Academy. "I'm sorry. I promise you that this place - and my alien husband - have not stolen my mind."
Yang grinned too, despite herself. "I find that a little hard to believe, given... well..." she jerked her thumb up at the Harlequins, who were dancing away into some other chamber.
Pyrrha laughed, covering her smile with her hand. "Quite so. The Black Library is a place of wonders. To me, it has always held a unique beauty."
"There's nothing like it in the Imperium," Yang admitted. "How long have you been here?"
"A little over a hundred and fifty years now," Pyrrha said. "But, like all beautiful things, its lustre is fading. I miss Il-Kaithe and the home my daughter built."
Yang considered that, heard the longing in her friend's alien voice. "How'd you get to stay here so long?" She asked.
The clacking of Pyrrha's walking staff missed its rhythm. "That is a question better left unanswered." Her voice brokered no argument. Yang decided to move on.
"Well, I'm happy that you've found a place for yourself here," Yang said. She meant it too, even if she couldn't look Pyrrha in the eye when she said it. Instead, she fixed her eyes upon the wall, which was some sort of hexagrammic display that flitted between colossal sets of runes. It was a story about two ill-fated lovers named Kalidra and Rennawar, who hunted daemons for sport.
She didn't know how she knew that.
"I am too. As I said, it has driven me to do great things. But I sense hesitation. You are unsure about my place in this universe."
"I just wish you hadn't turned your back on humanity," Yang said.
"I am still human," Pyrrha said, wearing a half grin. "I simply cannot subscribe to the Imperium's idea of what that means. The only interpretation I've seen in almost two millennia." She sighed, looking up at Yang and seeing that questions remained. "It was a choice between the man and craftworld I had come to love, or becoming part of a humanity I could never willingly serve. A cog in the machine that is the Imperium."
"Weiss is an Inquisitor," Yang noted.
"A very large cog," Pyrrha replied, not unkindly. "My point still stands. Even though they lead regimented and restricted lives, the eldar live. They don't slave under the lie of the Emperor, or throw their lives away as if they had no meaning. They love art and music and each other."
"The Emperor isn't a lie," Yang said. "You have to know that. You're a psyker too, after all."
"The image his servants have made is a lie," Pyrrha clarified. "The religion they follow so blindly. A disgusting creed, as practical as it is."
"It keeps people contented," Yang protested. "And failing that, it makes them feel safe. We thought grimm were bad, but between everything else in the Milky Way, Remnant was a joke." It felt wrong to shove everything and everyone she used to know into such a dismissive corner, but it was the truth.
"I know, Yang. My choice was made long ago. But that is why I summoned you."
"And why is that?" Yang asked. Pyrrha stopped in front of a door, one labeled with a single rune. This door was no more than a slab of pearlescent marble, with no visible hinges or opening mechanisms.
"To talk," Pyrrha said. "To see your face." She waved her hand in front of the door, and it vanished into nothingness. "Welcome to our study." She stepped aside to let Yang pass.
Yang obliged, taking in the full measure of a hundred fifty years' worth of studying. Her jaw dropped. Memory projectors littered the floor and dozens of desks, each one displaying pictures of smiling eldar. Some were simply still-lifes, while others played videos on loops, each one from a first-person perspective. Books were stacked hundreds high, each one looking more ancient than the last. Notes and rune-laden boards covered the walls, obscuring most of the startlingly plain stucco walls. Some books and objects were sealed within translucent and silvery bubbles. Each one reeked of eldritch power.
"And what about Josephus?" Yang asked, after swallowing a mouthful of air.
Pyrrha sat down on a luxuriant leather chair, one with gemstones that floated around the headboard. She sighed, clearly pleased to be off her feet.
"We will get to that. You are more important."
"Me?" Yang said. "Garnet said something about that. 'Fate of the universe' and all that."
"He was always my most creative child," Pyrrha said. "The message I sent was intended to ensure your arrival here, I presume that's how he interpreted it."
"So I'm not destined to do anything galaxy-shaking?" Yang asked. At once, a weight seemed to fly from her shoulders, relief filling her very soul.
"Perhaps you are," Pyrrha said, pivoting her chair to face one of her many desks. "That is up for you to decide."
"Well, I'm here. So what do you want to talk about?" Yang asked, running her fingers across the spines of books by the dozen. One of them shivered.
"You," Pyrrha said.
"Me?"
"You, Yang Xiao Long. Or, more accurately, we need to speak of your future."
"I thought you said I didn't have to do anything?" Yang said. I guess Pyrrha picked up the eldar habit of talking in circles.
"Again, that is up to you. At some point in your existence in this universe, you will need to make a decision. One that is not colored by Weiss' designs, my family, by your friends, or your grief."
Pyrrha turned to face her, milky-green eyes spearing Yang to the nearest bookshelf with unerring accuracy. Was it always so hard to breathe in here? Or was it just the full pressure of Pyrrha's soul? In that moment, Yang felt the whole of Pyrrha's life, each year, each decade, each century.
"You must find a purpose. Something that drives you, lets you face each day with resolve and unparalleled focus. Without one, you are lost."
Yang swallowed empty air once more. She opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out. She could tell Pyrrha she wanted to find Ruby, but that was a half-assed answer. After Ruby was found, what then? And what if she never even arrived?
She could say 'fighting chaos', but that was too open-ended, too vague and nebulous.
What do I want?
What makes me happy? Fighting? It does, but that's a dark path... and I like doing other things too. Do I even deserve to do things that make me happy? What's wrong with me? Why can't I answer her? Why is this such a hard question?
"I do not need an immediate answer," Pyrrha said. "It is something you must think about, however. Without a purpose, you consign yourself to misery, or, infinitely worse - chaos."
"I-I will," Yang said.
"Good," Pyrrha said. "Then I have a proposition for you."
"Pyrrha?" Yang asked, worry licking at the edge of her soul. "What kind of proposition?"
"I can offer you the beginnings of a purpose. Happiness and succor for the rest of your time in this universe," Pyrrha said. "Come back with me to Il-Kaithe. Make your home amongst the eldar. I know you are tied to humanity, I know it. I truly do. Please understand that I am not asking you to renounce those ties."
Pyrrha recovered a brain box from her desk and cradled it in her bony hands. It spat out a short video - a baby eldar, smiling and cooing at the camera. Her hair was wispy and thin but bright red, just long enough to kiss the tops of her pointed ears. There was nothing in her eyes but pure joy and happiness at being held, at being near her mother.
"My oldest, Jauna," Pyrrha said. "I had borne children before. Three of them, in fact. But holding her for the first time..." she shook her head, unable to stop the tears that flowed from her eyes. "I felt her soul sing." She huffed again, a half-laugh. "In that smile, I felt She-Who-Thirsts cower and scream in impotent rage. I felt it, Yang. That was the moment I found my own purpose. I'm offering you the same choice."
Yang didn't know what to say. "You mean being a mother?" She asked eventually. "A brood mare for eldar?"
That brightened Pyrrha's countenance, cleared her eyes of tears. She laughed. "No, no, not at all!" She said. "That was my answer - building a new future for a race that had none, so that my family could live in peace."
"Then what could Il-Kaithe possibly have in store for me? Didn't they nearly kill you?"
"They could have tried," Pyrrha said. "I was a child, but I still had Milo and Akoúo̱. They certainly wanted to, but Caelus' noble blood afforded me options. Flexibility. Life. But now they see the results of letting a human live and work among them. A strong, stable family that..." she paused, editing her words for Yang's benefit. "My family gave them something that they hadn't known in millennia. An option."
"Pyrrha," Yang said. "If you want this offer of yours to be taken seriously... please, just... please be clear."
Pyrrha smiled. "It is possible to escape this universe."
Yang blinked. "Remnant?" She said in a small voice.
"Possibly," Pyrrha replied. "Or even one new to us both. Whatever it may be, it will be free of the warp. Of chaos. Of this, I am certain. That is the future I wish for my children and Il-Kaithe. In the Milky Way, they are the crusaders against chaos, but in another universe, they will be the permanent vanguards against it, should it ever appear."
Yang tried to speak. "How... how do you know that? What makes you think you can move something like a craftworld into another universe? Sure, we came here no problem. We're just individuals. But a craftworld?"
Pyrrha spread her hands, and her study responded. Books left their shelves, runes glowed bright, and the air itself hummed with excitement.
"The Black Library holds the answer. I came close to it, but another must finish my work. My daughter, specifically. It will take her..." Pyrrha paused, calculating. "A short time to complete what I have started."
"And you want me to join you?" Yang asked.
"Once we leave this universe, we can build something incredible. And," Pyrrha said, holding up a single crooked finger. "Even if Hyliodora should fail, and Il-Kaithe is bound to the Milky Way forevermore, it would still be a good home to you. The humans of the Imperium do not live. Not as we did on Remnant. It is not their fault, but simply the terrible fate they have fallen upon. Is the Imperium truly so great that it is worth your life?"
"It can be fixed," Yang said. Pyrrha nodded.
"Perhaps. But that is a Sisyphean task, and one that you would not live to see to completion."
Yang didn't know what a Sisyphean task was, but it didn't matter. "So what?" She asked. "It would still change."
"It is good to live, Yang," Pyrrha said. "To be free of fear and hate and chaos. Tell me, if you had the choice, would you willingly arrive in the Imperium?"
"No," Yang said. Too hastily. "Maybe. I don't know. It needs my help."
"It needs the Emperor," Pyrrha said. A book landed in her waiting palms. She flipped through the pages, sighing as she did so. "Though his return is a very unlikely event. Yang, I have lived a very long and blessed life. I have fought battles by the score, explored the power of the warp, became an artist, seen the future, traveled across the stars, found love again and built a family. Remnant was no more than a stepping stone for me. Here, I have lived a life beyond compare, and I offer you the same opportunity. The same chances to find your purpose." She looked up at the ceiling, closing her eyes to welcome a moment of pure serenity.
She means every single word.
And she could see the life her old friend spoke of, see the decades pass by on Il-Kaithe, see a new empire rise in some other universe, one where she wouldn't miss Ruby or Blake or Ros or have constant nightmares or break promises or fight for a power she could barely tolerate.
Something I could build with my own two hands. Something I could do… right.
"I... I don't know what to say," Yang said with a watery chuckle. "That's... a lot."
"It is. And, once more, I do not expect an immediate answer. It is a monumental decision, one that I do not expect you to make this very instant. I know your feelings on the eldar are... mixed, and I do not blame you. Simply ponder upon what I have said, come to your own conclusions. I will not tell you what to think - nor will I be disappointed if you reject my offer."
"Things have changed a bit since Beacon," Yang said, her purple eyes misting over with tears. She didn't know why she felt like crying, but the tears came regardless.
"That they have," Pyrrha said. "Things were so much simpler back then."
"Even when you were half-demigod?" Yang joked.
"Even when I became a full demigod," Pyrrha replied, smiling. Her teeth carried no sign of old age - they were as white and straight as Yang's. It was uncanny. "I still miss Jaune on occasion," she said wistfully. "And my previous children. They were all... so wonderful. So bright and bubbly. They are all long dead by now."
"They could be here," Yang said.
"I thought the same, until... well, you saw. I gave up. And honestly, I wouldn't want them anywhere near this universe. The chances of them being as lucky as I are pathetically small. Thank you though," she added, hand falling on her chest. On a small locket. "Four wounds. Ancient and well-healed, but wounds nonetheless."
Yang walked forwards, leaning down to embrace Pyrrha once more. The old woman was crying too.
"Obsidian... I can't..." Pyrrha sobbed, sucking in a deep breath. "I should've been there. My own son, an exarch..." she shook her head, sniffling. "I'm sorry, Yang. I don't expect you to understand. Though my life has been quite good, it has not been without its hardships."
"Of course," Yang said, patting her friend's back, softly, gently. Pyrrha radiated ethereal power, but still felt brittle, a bundle of toothpicks left to rot for too long.
"Caelus though?" Yang asked, disengaging from Pyrrha. She put on a smile, trying to introduce a happier mood. "He seems like a good guy."
"A 'good guy' I've spent nearly two millennia with," Pyrrha said, sniffling once again. "He's something, that's for sure. Falling for him was... an experience. My head was wrapped up in so many things. Guilt, primarily. Fear. A touch of self-loathing as well. He followed me here, helped me with my search. It's as much his work as mine. My truest companion," she said, folding her hands together. "One that will follow me into the unknown. I hope this time I might find some rest."
"You've had quite the run, Pyrrha."
"I have, haven't I?" Pyrrha said, laughing. "My story is finally coming to a close, while yours is just beginning. I do not envy you," she said. "No matter what you choose, whatever your path might be, it will be long and full of work."
"You're a good friend Pyrrha," Yang said, the realization hitting her in full force. "You always have been. Even in another universe."
"I do my best," Pyrrha said, her clouded eyes twinkling. "It is what I've always done."
A/N: Well, I certainly got some… interesting responses to the previous chapter. I'd suggest waiting a bit before passing judgement on Pyrrha just yet, at least until the Black Library arc reaches its conclusion.
Again, it's imperative to remember that my characters are not mouthpieces, nor are they correct about things they hold to their soul as true. Some of them even lie to themselves as much as they do each other.
It should also be noted that the Tou'Her aren't a bunch of Slaanesh-avoiding mary sues simply because of their auras - this is something that will be discussed in later chapters. I promise I'm not as much of a hack as I look!
Until next time, everyone!