Descent of Eagles

For several hours, some of the finest minds in Nuba had had the opportunity to examine the strange skull. While the way it functioned had for the most part baffled them, they were able to ascertain that it was not supernatural, but rather mechanical.

"But what is its purpose?" asked one of the scholars.

One of the scholars studied the strange device inserted into the eye-socket of the skull. He turned to Hayreddin.

"Forgive me, sir, but you say it turned invisible and attempted to flee when you spotted it?"

Hayreddin nodded.

"Then I can only surmise it is some sort of observing device. An information gatherer…"

"A spy," finished Jerod, frowning.

The scholars inclined his head. "Very possible."

Hayreddin turned to Memnos, who was sitting in a corner taking notes of the scholars' observations. As well as his own.

"Memnos? Have you anything to add?" asked Hayreddin.

Memnos looked startled at being asked, but gathered himself.

"Well...we've been speculating on its function and how it functions. But there is something clear to observe."

"Which is?" asked one of the scholars.

Memnos pointed at the skull. "This...machine was made using the part of a human at its core. Whatever it is, this thing was once a person."

Silence fell as the scholars took in that unpleasant thought.

"This tells me that whoever made this has very little regard for the dead, or is of circumstances so harsh that even the dead must be called upon to serve."

Hayreddin stared into the hollow eyes of the skull. He had had the same thought too. That this bizarre device had once been a person unsettled him. Did it once loved, have a family, laughed and cried?

"Well-observed, Memnos," said Hayreddin. He straightened up to address everyone. "Gentlemen, thank you for your observations. I will need your help in the coming days. Until then, you are dismissed. I ask for your discretion until we learn more."

As Kazan shepherded the scholars out, Hayreddin turned to Jerod.

"Whoever did this have access to technology beyond anything I've ever seen," he said so quietly that only Jerod can hear him.

Jerod nodded. "Preparation for an invasion?"

"Possible, even likely," replied Hayreddin. "But as far as spies go, it was hardly subtle."

"An assassination attempt then?" suggested Jerod. "It wouldn't be the first time someone had a go at you."

Hayreddin frowned. "True, but we couldn't find any sort of weapon on it...that we know of. More importantly it fled rather than attack me."

"Perhaps it was searching for you?"

"Perhaps, but the why eludes me," said Hayreddin. "Jerod, if there is an invasion coming, where does the armed forces stand?"

Jerod raised an eyebrow. "They're prepared for anything. But against an enemy that can raise the dead like this? Is there really any way to prepare for that?"

Hayreddin nodded tersely. "Send word to them and all our allies. Have them be at war readiness."

Jerod bowed his head but hesitated. "Uncle...about what I said earlier...forgive me, I didn't mean to cause offence."

Hayreddin squeezed Jerod's shoulder. "You were counselling me, and I value that, even if I don't always agree. Your grandfather...he did the same for me many times in the past. We always had our disagreements, but it always helped us make better decisions. Always speak up if you see the need, Jerod. Never be afraid to do so."

Jerod nodded, his solemn face looking so like Ravenna's that Hayreddin's heart ached. "I will see to your orders, Uncle."

As he watched Jerod go, Hayreddin mulled over his thoughts. He had not been entirely truthful; the why did not completely elude him. He personally suspected that the mysterious sightings and now the strange skull were portents of things to come. Things which have been foretold in the past.

And the speakers have foretold,

On burning wings of gilded gold,

The immortal king shall come to claim his own,

His dominion stretched across worlds unknown.

Was this the arrival the prophecy foretold? Was that macabre thing a tool of the Golden King? If so, it made Hayreddin uneasy.

XI XI XI

A world darkened by a storm. The rain poured hard over the statue of a woman. A mighty warrior knelt before the statue.

"I have returned…"

A pendant made of steel, shaped into a sphere surrounded by a jagged circle.

A smile filled with blood.

"What madness possessed you?!"

"I only wanted to protect…"

Warriors in white, shouting in a strange language even as their surroundings went up in flames.

"Khagan! Ordu gamana Jaghatai!"

A warrior on a throne, turning to ash. His mouth was stretched into a soundless scream as his very being was torn apart. Even as his body disintegrated, he reached out with his mind to people he cared about.

People he loved.

An old woman heard him, and responded with anguish and rage.

"Where are you?!"

"Do not grieve. We were made to do this, szu. We were made to die."

"Not you! Not you! Anyone but you!"

A warrior in red, standing at the gates of Hell itself. A shrouded angel reached out to him, imploring, pleading…

"Do not do this, my son."

"We all have our roles, my lord. And yours is not here...you are needed…"

A giant metal humanoid-shaped machine stood amidst a world being torn apart by death. In one massive claw, it held a dying warrior, whose very flesh was melting. A voice boomed from the machine, defiance edged even in its inhuman tones.

"This death…this death is ours. We choose it. We deny you your victory."

And the machine erupted into a blazing star.

A group of warriors, battered and wounded beyond all measure, huddled together in the ruins of a once-great palace. They were speaking to each other in hushed tones.

"They want to make sure we're beaten to plant a flag on our corpses."

"Yes, but we gave them the fight of our lives did we not?"

"Did were hurt them, captain? Did this mean anything?"

"Yes. We hurt them here. They'll remember this."

A raging storm in the sky. A warrior in the rain, wielding a glaive.

"Go! Get him out of here!"

"No...don't…"

A smile in the rain.

"Someone's got to look out for you…"

The silhouette in golden light. A voice that spoke with thunder.

"What have you done?"

And Hayreddin woke. He took several deep breaths, the voices still ringing in his head. He blinked and realised that tears were streaming down his face. The visions, the dreams; they were different from before. There were no daemons, no demigods, no whispers from the spirits.

No screaming corpse on a golden throne.

For the first time, Hayreddin could hear the voices of those men. Warriors. And he knew somehow, what he had seen had been acts of sacrifice. Acts of such selfless courage that despite not fully understanding what he had seen, Hayreddin had been moved to tears.

Had they already happened? Are they acts to come? If so, what kind of horrors would have to happen to make such terrible, noble sacrifices necessary?

He took deep breaths to calm himself down. That was when he heard the bells. The bells that were never supposed to ring unless Hayreddin's Wall fell. Within the space of a heartbeat, he was at his balcony, looking towards the Wall.

It was still standing. There was no sign of attack. But the bells were clearly ringing, and the city guard was clearly mobilising. But there was confusion in the muster and people were running in the streets.

"What's going on?" Hayreddin shouted down to a group of guards below.

The guards pointed to the sky.

Hayreddin looked up and saw it at once.

Eagles.

Throughout his travels, he had seen eagles. Great birds of prey that usually nested along the great cliffs of Baybar's coasts. They were majestic birds, with feathers the colour of sand.

These eagles however, were as dark as storm clouds, their feathers glinting like steel in the sun. And they were massive, clearly far larger than any bird that Hayreddin had ever seen. There were nine of them, circling above Nuba and-

Hayreddin listened. He could hear something from the eagles. They were speaking. In the language of men.

"We come in peace. Do not attack. We come in peace. Please acknowledge."

Again and again, the same words.

"Can you hear it, sir?" one of the guards shouted up to Hayreddin. There was fear in his voice. "Is it some kind of daemon?"

Hayreddin stared up at the circling beasts. His sharp eyes could make out some details despite the distance. There was something odd…

"Tell them to stop ringing the bells," he shouted down to the guards. "Take up the usual defensive positions around the city. Light a signal fire in the market square. Do not attack unless I give the order. Only I will give the order. Understood?"

The guards saluted and hurried off.

Hayreddin looked to the sky at the giant eagles.

XI XI XI

A great signal fire had been lit in the middle of the market square, sending out great plumes of smoke. Guards, most armed with bows and some with firearms, had taken up key positions around the market square. Hayreddin stood in the centre of square along with three cohorts of the city guards' finest and his Sabaahan guards. He was the only authority figure present at his own insistence, so that the bulk of Nuba's ruling figures would be out of harm's way.

Naturally, the others had protested, declaring Hayreddin far too important to put at risk. He had silenced them by reminding that out of all of them besides Jerod, he was the only one who had actually fought in battle. He also reminded them that he was also one of Baybar's finest swordsmen, though it was not the most prominent part of his reputation.

So, there he stood, with the best of Nuba's available forces, tensely watching the eagles circling in the sky. They had continued to do so while Nuba's forces had mustered; broadcasting their message.

"We come in peace. Do not attack. We come in peace."

And now, seeing the smoke signal rising from the square, they descended. Lower and lower they circled, until Hayreddin could confirm what he had suspected: there were warriors riding the eagles. They were armoured in grey, carrying long glaives in their hands. Strange, cannon-like devices were strapped to their eagles.

Hayreddin sensed the tension rising in his men. He raised his hand and spoke, his voice carrying easily over around the market square. "Steady. Do not attack unless I give the order."

Soon the eagles came to a stop, hovering just out of what Hayreddin judged to be the effective range of his men's bow and firearms. That such huge birds could hover in place should be impossible, but hover they did. They had stopped broadcasting their message, and they seemed to be waiting for something. The Nubans were tense, bows guns pointed at the eagles, who, along with their riders, seemed unconcerned.

After what felt like forever, one of them spoke up at last.

"This is Sergeant Matharias of Squad Arturas of the Second Legiones Astartes. Our lord is en route to speak with you. Please do not attack."

Hayreddin took in the words, pondering some of the terms used even as he signalled his men to stand down but remain vigilant.

Legion.

There was a legion of such warriors? Hayreddin found the thought unsettling. Though they seemed peaceful, their martial prowess was obvious to see, and he doubted his men could deal with such warriors without taking heavy casualties if there was to be battle.

The sky darkened.

Hayreddin looked up.

A massive shape had blotted out the sun, and it was growing.

An eagle of titanic proportions descended, issuing a great cry that sent all but Hayreddin and his Sabaahan guards to their knees. A great roar filled the sky as the mighty beast landed in the market square with earth-shaking force.

Abruptly, Hayreddin saw a vision he had seen many times before.

A titanic eagle falling beneath a storm.

Was this the same eagle? How could such a mighty beast fall to anything?

Dimly, Hayreddin registered that the roaring sound came not from the eagle, but two flying vessels that had been hidden by its vast bulk. They set down behind the beast, with warriors armoured in a darker shade of grey disembarking and arranging themselves into perfect formation. The eyes of their helms glowed red as they stood as still as statues. Even at a distance, Hayreddin could tell that they were as tall as him, some of them even taller. Martial pride radiated from their very being.

Despite all that, what caught Hayreddin's attention was the lone warrior mounted on the titanic eagle. He was armoured in deep ocean blue. He alone wore no helm. His long black hair flew freely in the wind.

And he was smiling.

A warrior astride a mighty eagle, soaring the stormy skies.

Even as the warrior leaped off his mount, Hayreddin already knew who he was.

Seek the one who is born of the Storm.

Even as the warrior marched towards him, and Hayreddin walked forward to meet him, the realisation had dawned.

Seek the Storm Born, the spirits said. And seeked I have.

Hayreddin and the warrior came to a stop, face-to-face. Even without his armour, Hayreddin knew the other man would tower over him. For the first time in his life, he had to look up at someone.

But the Storm Born has found me.

The words that were spoken next would be recorded forever in Baybar's history. It would be reenacted many times for many years to come. It would become the subject of Baybarian poetry, plays, stories and art.

"Who are you, warrior?"

"I am Thorondor."

"Where do you come from?"

"My home is the Storm World, Tempestas. But I have come from where all of us have: Terra."

"Sergeant Matharias said you were a lord. What are you a lord of?"

"I am the Lord of the Storm Eagles, the Second Legiones Astartes."

"And whom do you serve?"

"I serve Mankind."

"Who commands you?"

"I answer only to the Emperor of Mankind."

"Who is this Emperor?"

"As his title declares, he is the Master of Mankind. The rightful ruler of our race. He has come to bring all the strands of humanity under the aegis of the Imperium."

"And what manner of being are you, Lord Thorondor?"

"I am a Primarch, wrought by the hands of the Emperor Himself to be a general for His vast armies. I am one of His twenty sons."

And here, so the records say, and the reenactments portray, Thorondor had stepped forward and clasped Hayreddin's shoulder, his smile warm and heartfelt as he spoke the next words.

"And I am your brother."

*sources for some of the events in Hayreddin's vision

-The Path of Heaven by Chris Wraight

-Fear to Tread by James Swallow

-Flight of the Eisenstein by James Swallow

-Galaxy in Flames by Ben Counter

And here's the next batch of chapters out for this fanfic. Hopefully I'll be able to update more regularly from here on out. Also note, my country Malaysia has also blocked , so I have to work around that to update. As always, thank you so much to those who took the time to send me messages of support even during my long exile. I value all of you so much.

Love,

Dorawarrior