According to Black Library, the eleventh Primarch was found second to last, just before Alpharius. Due to his late discovery, the first half of this fic will revolve around the Primarch II, but in any case, here's the origin story I came up with for the Primarch XI. I hope you enjoy it.

For as long as the people of Baybar can remember, the pirate raids have always been part of their lives. The pirates would come on their ships, armed to the teeth with roaring swords and infernal pistols from a forgotten age. Terror would take the coast-dwellers then, for they knew the pirates would not stop till they get what they want.

Oh, some fought back. Indeed, to the greatest of the coast-dwellers' cities which possessed such weapons and soldiers with the skills to use them, such raids were minor irritants, always repulsed before any true damage could be done.

But the coast-dwellers of the tiny village of Nuba, the only option they had was to flee far into the desert mainland. They were fishermen and tradesmen, not soldiers. They had nothing of value for the pirates to take other than themselves, for the pirates would sell them into slavery and for some, an even worst fate to serve the pirates' debauchery.

Babar and his wife, Ani had lived through countless raids over the forty years of their life. Whenever the watchman would cry out the warnings, they would pack their meagre belongings with the swiftness and efficiency of those who were not only used to such occurrences, but indeed expected them, and head inland as quickly as their aging bones would allow. It was a vicious, but familiar cycle, one that no one would expect to change.

Only they had.

The pirates had come in the dead of night, in silence rather than the usual ruckus that preceded them. The watchman, accustomed to the pirates' regular attacks in broad daylight, had relaxed his guard once the sun had gone down. He had failed, and had paid for that failure with his head cloven in half by one of the many roaring swords of the pirates.

Babar and Ani had woken up to screams of terror and chaos. The pirates were capturing and killing at will, and some had gathered the women and even some of the young boys together and were eagerly starting their monstrous acts.

Babar grabbed Ani by the hand and the two of them had shuffled away as fast as they could, hoping to be overlooked in the chaos.

Fate was not kind to them.

A pirate, a hulking brute of a man with tanned leathery skin decorated by countless scars and a missing eye on his wide hideous face blocked their path. He grinned, revealing numerous missing teeth.

"Going somewhere, old man?" sneered the pirate, raising his sword. He pressed down on the switch, and the teeth of the sword roared into a blur. "Just when the fun's starting?"

Babar saw his death reflected in the pirate's sole soulless eye.

A great boom from the sky halted the pirate's swing. Everyone, both coast-dweller and pirate alike looked to the sky to see a star hurtle down towards them. It struck the centre of the village, crushing several of the pirates.

As ferocious and inhumanly cruel as they were, the pirates were superstitious cowards. A star from the heavens had fallen into the village they were raiding and killed some of their own; the village was clearly protected by whatever divine beings that watched from above. They fled back to their ships, falling all over themselves, screaming litanies to protect themselves from whatever curse that had fallen from the sky.

The coast-dwellers wept in joy for their salvation, and grief for those they had already lost. But amidst the weeping, some approached the fallen star slowly; for fear that something worse had descended upon them.

Babar and Ani inched closer to site of the star's crash. The crater formed from its fall was still smoking, but they could make out the shape within. A cylindrical container not unlike the ones used by the rich merchants to store the precious few produce that could be grown, but was far larger. It had a mark beneath the lid in a strange yet familiar script: XI.

As Babar and Ani drew closer, a cry split the air, making them jump. Some of the coast-dwellers fled, screaming of daemons descending from the sky, while the older ones fell to their knees to recite incantations to ward off evil. To Babar and Ani though, it sounded like the cry of a child.

It was coming from the container.

Babar and Ani hurried forward to it.

"Babar! Are you mad?" cried Beduin, the village spirit-speaker. "Get away from it! It is a thing of evil!"

"Has the seaweed made you deaf?" snapped Babar. "There's a child in there, or I'm a senile old fool!"

"Then you are a senile old fool!" exclaimed Beduin. "Ani! Make your man see sense!"

"But if there is a child in there, we can't just leave it," answered Ani.

"Children come from a woman's womb!" cried Beduin, not quite daring to step closer to the container. "Not from burning boxes that fall from the sky! Only daemons do!"

"Or angels," retorted Babar as he and Ani set about to lifting the lid of the container.

"Open that thing and you'll doom us all!" yelled Beduin.

The couple ignored the spirit-speaker and continued with their task as the other villagers, torn between fear and curiosity gathered to watch. The cry continued, growing louder and louder and the coast-dwellers muttered to themselves in fear even as Beduin continued to curse Babar and Ani for their foolishness.

They finally succeeded in lifting the lid and beheld what lay inside.

It was a child, one of such beauty and perfection that Babar and Ani were stunned to silence.

The child turned to look upon them, tears streaming down his face as he continued to wail.

Ani stepped forward and picked the child up in her arms, rocking him comfortingly and singing old lullabies to calm him down.

It worked; the child's wail quieted down to sniffles before he buried his face into the crook of Ani's neck and gradually fell asleep.

Babar and Ani stepped away from the container with the child and the rest of the villagers murmur to themselves, some in awe, and others with fear.

"What a beautiful boy..."

"Where did he come from?"

"From the sky...like an angel."

"A daemon..."

They parted before Babar and Ani as the old couple made their way to the little hut that they called home. Some of the villagers followed them, Beduin among them, hissing angrily.

"If you have any sense at all, you'd throw that child into the sea!" Beduin said. "Let the sea spirits have him!"

Babar turned to face the spirit-speaker, his bushy eyebrows raised. "Drown a child? You've been smoking the wrong seaweed again! The child fell from the heavens and drove off the pirates! He is a blessing! A good omen! My wife and I will care for him!"

"That child is unnatural!"

"Natural or not, he is a child," growled Babar. "I'll not murder him."

With that, Babar and Ani entered their hut and slammed the door shut. Beduin and the other villagers lingered around outside for a moment before finally dispersing to repair the damage done from the pirate raid.

"That child will doom us all," muttered Beduin to himself.

XI XI XI

Inside the hut, Ani looked down at the sleeping infant in her arms. To hold such an innocent in her arms again was something she had thought would never happen again. She felt her eyes grow hot with tears of joy.

A rough hand placed itself on her shoulder and she turned to look at her husband.

"Babar," she said. "The heavens have blessed us with second chance."

Babar nodded solemnly. "To have a child again...and one as perfect as this."

Babar shook his head. "What should we call him?"

Ani looked down at the child in her arms again and felt love swell in her heart for the infant.

For her son.

"We'll name him after our firstborn," said Ani. "Hayreddin. We'll call him Hayreddin."

Babar nodded in approval.

"Our son is returned to us."