Author's Note: This isn't a new chapter! This is the second part of what used to be chapter 3, now split to make the reading easier. The new chapter is 5!
Path 2
Dark Reaper
The Defender Part 2
Yaidev let her gaze wander over the forest and up to the sky. It seemed strange, but even the simplest thing such as the movement of the sun managed to get her attention. While on a craftworld the lights dimmed to simulate a sunset, there was no sky turning into shades of orange, nor snow that covered mountain top, the white surface now cast in soft pink. It was beautiful. Still she was attentive, still she listened to the explosions, the fire and the savage shouting and screaming of thousands of orks; she had done so for the past hour. Smoke rose to the sky as the trees in the distance were burned by the fires of battle; in the air Nightwings and Vypers brought down the primitive planes, while hundreds of Wild Riders and Aspect Warriors were cutting through the infantry with shuriken, blades, plasma and other exotic weapon at the eldar's disposal, as well as destroying the loud chunks of metal that the orks had the audacity to call vehicles.
She yearned to join them, but she had her orders and so remained with her fellow Reapers at the settlement. On the palisade, things had been quiet for now. The Dark Reapers had taken position there with Defender Guardians, operating heavy weapons and the Exodites warriors, who had not gone with the Dragon Knights. An hour after the Wild Host had departed, Felanwé nodded at something in the distance. "We are about to have company." He noted calmly.
Yaidev saw them. It was a group of orks, their jetpacks leaving trails of black smoke behind them. Briefly the young Reaper wondered how they had gotten past the eldar forces, but after all it was for this eventuality that her shrine was here.
"Such a small group?" Ilthaldir replied mockingly. "Let us compliment them on their folly."
A smile spread over Yaidev's lips; her first kill was only moments away. She would fight like the warriors in the stories she'd heard since childhood and she would protect her people, finally to be recognized by her clan, no longer a child in their eyes. She would prove how wrong they had been about her. "Mark your targets." Cadaith spoke, his students taking aim at the orks, which were still minutes of flight away from their position, but already the spirit of her Launcher found its victims, marking a dozen orks upon their approach, from left to right. Doubtlessly her brothers would take care of the rest without difficulty. The first of the display's crosshairs turned green.
The first ork had turned its head to its ilk, to shout at the other Stromboyz, the small missile from Yaidev's weapon hitting it just behind its right ear, going into its head. Nothing of that remained and what little was left of the body tumbled to the forest below, followed by many more, slain much the same way. Yaidev couldn't deny the satisfaction, the elation at their death, by her hand no less, Khaine's fire flaring up within her, as the fuel of battle was added to it and so within a few seconds, the first wave was destroyed, red rain falling on the leaves beneath them.
Yaidev noticed that her heart was racing, her breathing faster than usual and she was not the only one to see this. "Calm yourself, sister." Maldorahn spoke, standing to her left. "We are Reapers, not Banshees in the midst of battle; your aim suffers when your mind is in turmoil."
Her Exarch nodded. "Your war-mask already keeps your fears and doubts in check, but it struggles with the darker aspects of your mind." He told her. "Speak the mantra again to focus yourself."
She licked over her lips and nodded, taking a few deep breaths before she began to quietly mutter the lines she had learned. "We bear war's dark burdens upon our shoulders, unyielding, freed of doubt or fear. We are collected, merciless, precise, for we are death. Let Khaine's gift guide us." Over and over did she repeat the lines. Yes, guide, not control, not take over her mind utterly and completely. The state of heightened awareness returned and the haze upon her thoughts lifted, the cracks on her war-mask repaired. Not again she would allow herself to be swayed like this by her emotions and the sensations of battle. She was an Aspect Warrior of Saim-Hann, honorable and brave, no savage like her enemies. Once Yaidev was finished, she gave a nod to Cadaith and Maldorahn.
The waiting resumed and Yaidev envied the other warriors and Riders, who were in the thick of battle. It took her a while to realize just how alien this thoughts and feelings were for her. Had she already changed so much? Was it only a temporary blossoming out of the darker part of her psyche? Those question didn't trouble they simply arose as she waited with her brothers for the next attack. Her smile, though milder, returned as it came.
More orks were coming this time, a few dozen, their jetpacks announcing their arrival far and wide. She resumed a steadier position, feeling the stabilizers kicking in, reinforcing her stance. The crosshairs dashed across her display, marking several targets, runes indicating the preferred order in which the orks should be taken out. Only a few more meters.
It was liberating; that was one of the last emotions Yaidev had expected, but aside from the excitement and a certain exertion, it felt as if something was lifted from her. She wasn't certain what but her work suddenly gave her… an inner serenity. Other warriors were said to feel joy and elation during the kill, but for Yaidev that was only subliminal. Cold and merciless she cut through the orks with her Reaper Launchers, her ears filled with the sound of hers and her brothers' weapons.
Only a feral scream diverted her attention and out of the forest, beneath but close to the palisades, another group of greenskins emerged. Apparently these monsters possessed some kind of cunning after all. "Ilthaldir, Maldorahn, dispose of these orks!" Cadaith ordered, his own weapon turning a large boss into a cloud of blood and separated limbs. The two Reapers immediately adjusted, opening fire less than two seconds after the order was given. It was still too late.
A few orks had made it through, though and landed on the palisade, the impact shaking the construct. While the Guardians staggered a little, some hacked in two by the orks with their barbaric cleavers, the Reapers were not moved, bringing their launchers around. More than half of the remaining enemy forces were dead as soon as their boots touched the ground, what was left of their bodies staining the bone with blood. And then Yaidev stood face to face with an orks, its green, brutish face, if it could be called that, looking at her with small, menacing red eyes, its maw wide open to scream at her. It swung its axe, aiming for her head and swiftly Yaidev crouched down, her weapon turning, until the tip touched upon her enemy's abdomen. Just as the axe cut through the air above her helmet, she pulled the trigger, tearing the ork in two, blood spraying over her, as the remaining body parts fell backwards still twitching.
There was no time to celebrate this brief victory, as the next alien hacked after her, forcing Yaidev to take a hand off her launcher as she leaped out of the axe's way, a following bullet burying itself into the palisade where her body had been. With a fluid motion, Yaidev drew her combat knife, rose to a stance, turning 180° to face her attacker. She leaned her entire body to the side, the only thing keeping her on her feet, or the tips of her toes to be exact, were the stabilizers of her armour, as a massive fist went past her, missing her by less than an inch. The ork had brought its entire body towards her and not wasting this opportunity, Yaidev stabbed her knife into the greenskin's thick, short neck. Viscous, deep red blood seeped out of the wound, but the orks simply snarled, his other fist hitting the young Reaper. The armour held most of the impact, Yaidev feeling the plates turning stiff to repel the force and still it pressed the air out of her lungs, making her cough as she was thrown backwards.
Even as she was flying to the ground, she took hold of her launcher again, aiming at the ork, coming after her. In the same moment as her back hit the ground and she alien had made a step, Yaidev pulled the trigger once. The single, small missile punched a huge, almost circular whole into the ork's torso. For a while it stood upright, the red eyes now staring dead at her, as she got back on her feet. She approached it and took her blade.
Suddenly Felanwé shouted a warning. "Artillery!"
Yaidev pulled her knife out of the dead ork, kicking its collapsing body away from her. Her head turned back to the forest, only now noticing how close she'd come to the other edge of the palisade, the steep and deepest of the rock slopes just beneath her. What she saw in the sky was even less welcomed; curved lines of dark smoke rushed towards the settlement, certainly more than a hundred, not made by jetpacks, but by shells, painted in bright red.
"Reapers!" Cadaith addressed them, his voice as calm and collected as ever, though Yaidev saw that his armour like that of everyone else was covered with ork blood. "Target the shells; get them out of the skies before they reach us!"
Even before he had quite finished the sentence, the Dark Reapers had resumed position, though Yaidev remained where she stood, not wanting to waste time. Her crosshairs ran over dozens of shells and she opened fire, her target system adding more and more with each moment. Every hit shell exploded in a bright ball of fire, sometimes taking another with it.
And yet, three made it through.
One impacted several meters in front of the steep, only destroying trees and leaving behind a smoking crater, the second hit the steep itself. The entire construction on which the Reapers stood shook and once more only their stabilizers kept them from falling. It was then that the third hit, also the steep, but far closer to the palisade. And the bone cracked.
Yaidev watched as palisade beneath her feet crumbled, pieces breaking off and falling down the cliff behind her, the tremors keeping her from moving. "Yaidev!" Felanwé called for her, forced to stay where he was same as her. There was no time to think and as soon as the tremors had stopped and she could move again without falling, she jumped with all her strength, leaping for the steady ground on which her brothers stood. Her first foot touched upon the bone-coloured surface, already seeing the cracks catching up with her…and it broke.
Suddenly there was nothing beneath Yaidev's feet and for the first time something similar to fear sneaked into her thought as she fell, her fingers reaching desperately for the ledge and briefly she saw Felanwé and Maldorahn running towards her, before they disappeared from her sight. She fell towards the forest, the air hissing in her ears, her internal organs seemingly not falling as fast as the rest of her body. For a short moment she wondered if that was it, but no further thought reached her consciousness as her body hit the treetops. Once more the plates stiffened and hardened to keep her safe, but that didn't make it painless, Yaidev snarling sharply, when branches broke beneath her. When one cracked at her helmet, the impacted knocked her out and the world turned black.
She could feel the ground beneath her body, her fingers running over the earth as her senses returned. The back of her head hurt the most, undoubtedly from her fall. Yaidev opened her eyes slowly, moving her limbs one after the other and to her relief nothing hurt more than a bruise. Looking through the deep red lenses, she saw that her fall had been slowed by several branches, most of which now lay broken beside her, leaves partially covering her body. Her armour was likely the only reason she was still alive. Supporting herself with a hand on one of the high growing roots, Yaidev got back on her feet, her head spinning a little, her vision darkening for just a second, making her stagger briefly. Her Reaper Launcher was still at her side, connected to her Aspect Armour and undamaged as it seemed. She was certain that she would soon have need of it.
As Yaidev looked about her she realized that she'd been correct with her earlier assessment; there was no way up the cliff, the surface too smooth from centuries, if not millennia of rain and wind, other than the slope leading uphill at the other side to the west. It also meant that she needed to go through ork territory. Only now did she notice that being knocked out had also removed her war-mask and she felt a hint of fear, crawling through her veins. Quickly she spoke the mantra to don it once more and the young Reaper felt her senses becoming even sharper, her thoughts turning to the bloodshed that awaited her and instead of fear, it now instilled a strange combination of clamness and excitement again.
Knowing that there was no time to waste, Yaidev began to walk, only noticing now that one of her feet hurt when she put it down; perhaps she had sprained something after all. Nonetheless she didn't stop, her stable boot supporting the injury well enough for now, until a healer could take a look at it. The forest she walked through was thick, reminding her of the training grounds in the Dark Reaper shrine, though this forest continued on for hundreds of miles. All the time, Yaidev kept right to the steep wall of stone, looking for a path to the west, but to no avail. Gunfire could be heard from a distance.
Like all helmets, hers had an integrated communication crystal near her ear, which like wraithbone and the various gems the eldar used was sensitive to their natural psychic abilities. The crystal allowed them to communicate without the help of a trained psyker and Yaidev was contacted through it by her Exarch, his voice suddenly in her ear.
"Yaidev, can you hear me?"
She stopped actually only now remembering the crystal, as she had never used one before. "Exarch Cadaith; yes, I hear you clearly."
"Very good." He replied approvingly. "I have tried to reach you earlier but you wouldn't answer."
"I must have been still unconscious." Yaidev explained, only now wondering how long she'd been out. The sun hadn't completely set yet and light still shone between the branches; it couldn't have been very long.
"Likely. Are you well?"
"I'm alright, Exarch and I'm currently searching my way back to the settlement, moving north."
There was a short pause. "Good, continue on. A short march from where you must have landed, there should be a path, snaking up the hills. Follow it to the top and go south until you see the north wall of the settlement and turn west. You should have no problem finding your way from there."
"I'll make haste."
"Stay alive, Yaidev." His tone was factual, but as the crystals were psychically operation, Yaidev sensed a touch of concern upon the surface of his mind.
She smiled and nodded, even though she knew he couldn't see it. "I shall."
When he didn't reply, Yaidev simply continued on, her eyes warily searching the forest for movements. As it was, it was very quiet, except for the distant gunfire; even the birds had stopped singing, probably having fled some time ago. She was almost beginning to enjoy her stroll, listening to the treetops bending slightly in the wind, when voices speaking a crude language reached her ears. Yaidev slowed down, her footsteps already hardly audible, thanks to the soft ground covered with grass and moss and she brought her Launcher into a better position.
Already her crosshair was looking for targets. She wasn't nervous as she stalked through the undergrowth, only excited and the voices came closer. The sound of chopping and slashing joined in, probably from the primitive axes and cleavers hacking through the plants. Swiftly she stepped deeper into the shadows, positioning herself on a fallen trunk. Then she saw them; six orks, all armed with primitive melee-weapons and pistols, which seemed to have been made just as much for bashing as for shooting.
Her target system marked them all, their disgusting features now thankfully hidden behind red crosshairs. They turned green, but Yaidev kept herself from shooting; there were other noises in the forest and it would have been foolish to reveal her position, before knowing how many and where all her enemies were. Keeping her Launcher on the orks, she looked about, now crouching on the trunk to keep herself better hidden from the greenskins. Yaidev growled disappointedly when she watched a second, same-size group stomp through the woods but not towards the first; it would have been easier and faster had they all been at the same spot. Very well, she could dispose of both without much opposition, if she was fast. She marked the second group, letting it continue on, as it was partially covered behind broad trees, waiting for the perfect time. Then she struck.
The first group was dead before any of them could react, their bodies turned to shreds, colouring the vegetation around them red. Even as she swung around her weapon, the other orks shouted in rage and excitement of a new fight. "Waaagh!" The first ork, certainly a head taller than her, if its stature hadn't been so crouched, burst out through a shrub, axe swinging over its ugly head; it did not remain on its neck for much longer. Five more followed it, two actually remembering that they were holding pistols as well, shooting at the Reaper. Less than a handful hit her armour, though none of the crude bullets could punch through her armour, leaving only dents and scratches; after all Dark Reapers wore the heaviest and thickest armour among all in the eldar infantry. Yaidev felt as the impacts hit her, how her feet slid backwards on the moss-covered trunk, her stabilizers however helped her to remain on top, every ork dead before they could reach her.
Satisfied Yaidev looked at her work, a brief smile flitting over her face. Quickly she scanned her surroundings once again, making sure no further enemies were around, but no more stray orks seemed to be in the vicinity. How these had gotten so far from the main force, Yaidev did not know, perhaps they had been remnants of a raiding party. Not that it greatly mattered anymore. She continued on, keeping the stone wall to her left as her point of orientation, searching it for the path up.
It was a few minutes later that her fine ears picked up another noise to her right and swiftly Yaidev brought her Launcher around. Her display's crosshair searched for a target, finding a moving shadow between the tress. Suddenly it turned white, a rune blinking at its center. An ally.
There was an animalistic snarl and the red and brown scaled head of a bipedal dragon appeared before her in the eyes, its own keen, golden ones regarding her like prey, still she did not flinch, her gaze wandering instead to the rider on its back. His armour was similar to that of the Guardians, in shades of green and brown, a cloak of scales upon his shoulders, his face hidden behind a plain helmet. The Exodite motioned a long laser-lance, not unlike those used by the Shining Spears, away from Yaidev's body to a less threatening position.
"Cerka, Sierann." Greetings, Dragon Knight.
"Cerka, Dark Reaper." He answered her, bowing his head politely. "What brings one of our craftworld cousins so far from the settlement?"
Yaidev returned the customary bow. "Unforeseen circumstances." She explained briefly, deeming the nature circumstances themselves rather unimportant. "I'm on my way back there and to the rest of my shrine."
"I'm heading there as well." The Knight told her, guiding the head of his dragon away from her, as it began to sniff curiously at her, licking a bit of blood from her armour, which Yaidev tried to ignore. "I had been sent to call other clans on this continent to our help, but now I must return to my fellow Sierann."
"Was your mission successful?" She asked politely, wondering if more Dragon Knights would appear behind him in the ever darker growing forest.
He nodded. "Indeed it was; two more clans are sending their warriors. Even now they should be attacking our unsuspecting enemies from the rear and flank, and the Orkead will be annihilated between our forces." She had a feeling he was now smiling behind his helmet. "The greenskins shall not see the light of day again."
"Those are truly good news; I have the feeling this battle will soon find its end." She felt a twitch of disappointment, not having been able to face and kill as many enemies as she would have like, the fire within her having apparently nothing to burn.
"Do you wish to join me?" The Knight asked her. "My way leads me passed the village and you'd be sooner reunited with your fellow Reapers."
Yaidev regarded the slender animal on which he rode, frowning as she did. "Can your dragon carry two?"
"With ease." He assured her. "Can you shoot, while you ride?"
"I am member of a Wild Rider Clan, a Saim-Hannian and a student of Maugan-Ra's teaching." There was some pride in her voice, as she told him this, grinning mildly. "Does this suffice as an answer?"
The Exodite laughed. "I'm looking forward to you proving your skills, honoured warrior. Climb on behind me and try not to fall." He advised her, ordering his dragon to lower itself. Without using her arms or hands, Yaidev climbed on behind him, so they were back to back. "Ready?" And she nodded.
Riding a dragon could hardly be compared with riding a Jetbike. The animal's body swayed with each step it took, moving up and down, having to navigate around the vegetation or over it. Constantly Yaidev had to relocate her own weight to counter this, her Aspect Armour helping her greatly. Only a few minutes later however they stopped. "What is it?" After all she couldn't see what was in front of them, yet still she whispered, expecting orks to be the reason.
"Some Orkead have found the path that snakes up the steep." He whispered back. "We'll have to fight through them."
"This suits me well. How many?"
There was a pause as he counted. "Maybe two dozen."
"Bring them in front of my Launcher and they won't be there for long." Yaidev told him, looking forward to the fight, however briefly it would be. He didn't answer her, only got the dragon back to moving again, changing direction. At first he seemed to move away from the path, though she trusted the Dragon Knight and so said nothing. The dragon speeded up and suddenly jumped. Yaidev had to lean back, her back pressed against the Exodite, a hand on the dragon's back to firm her up, her thighs pressing firmly against its flanks, all to keep her on the animal. Loudly the dragon snarled and Yaidev heard the laser-lance being fired, the orks howling in responds, opening fire from their primitive guns.
Only now did she see that the Dragon Knight had gone around the orks, to emerge in front of them, directly at the beginning of the path. His dragon snatched one of the aliens, the razor-sharp teeth rendering muscles and cracking bones, while the Knight fired again with his lance, freeing the way. Now all enemies were behind them, in front of Yaidev's Launcher. She smiled as the dragon got on the path, only broad enough for two eldar to walk side-by-side, the orks running after them, around twenty; how beautifully they lined up. Most only carried the pistols, their fire missing the eldar most of the time, one scratching the dragon's tail though; the beast growled but kept running.
Finally, once they were moving in a straight line, Yaidev could grasp her Launcher with both hands once again, the orks already marked. She gritted her teeth as one bullet actually managed to punch through the armour, though it broke apart, the fragment grazing over her left arm, while the others only bounced off the plates. The one that had wounded her had not come from one of the pistols, but a long-barrelled weapon an ork with round goggles was carrying. It kept shooting at the eldar, but its bullets cut down two of its own ilk, before more hit Yaidev, a few breaking through and she felt one get stuck in her left thigh. And then the crosshairs turned green.
Yaidev pulled the trigger. Half the orks were turned to shreds before the dragon took a turn on the path, showering the ground with blood and gore, yet the survivors kept going. She had to wait until they had taken the turn as well and with predatorily patience Yaidev waited. Every ork that made that turn was torn apart, the missiles capable of punching through a light tank's armour effortlessly going through the tough green skin, until none were left. "The enemy is no more."
"You do fast work, Dark Reaper." He complimented her. "We're almost at the top." Yaidev was relived; riding backwards on a fast moving dragon was neither comfortable, nor was it easy. Truthfully she was astonished that she hadn't fallen off already, though her stabilizers had probably something to do with that.
They continued to go up, took several more turns on the curling path and Yaidev watched as they climbed over the tops of the trees. By now the sun was mostly hidden behind the mountains, casting orange light across the world, the snow almost red, reminding the young Aspect Warrior of blood. It was a wonderful sight, even with her war-mask still on, though deep inside she knew she would have felt more without it. As soon as the dragon had reached the top, they picked up speed and once more disappeared between the trees, Yaidev now having an easier time riding, considering that she no longer slid towards the dragon's tail. The gunfire in the distance grew louder, but it was less the barking of ork weapons and mostly the hissing of the eldar firearms. Artillery had died, only the war-cries of the greenskins remained. Yaidev wanted to ask the Dragon Knight to take her with him to the front, where she could truly fight the enemy, but she knew that she had her duties and her Exarch, her brothers were waiting.
Finally a wall of stone rose before them and she activated her communication crystal. "Exarch Cadaith."
"Speak, Yaidev." Her Exarch answered a moment later.
"I have reached the North wall; I'll be reunited with you shortly."
"Your arrival is timely." He told her. "Victory is imminent and the Warboss has been slain." Yaidev smiled, though she had never doubted the victory of her people, and Cadaith spoke again. "Before the sun has set, no ork shall draw breath on Nal'shadar anymore."
…
With the battle won, there was no reason for the Dragon Knight to head for the battlefield, though Yaidev had caught a glimpse of the site downhill; a series of clearings around a river, now covered with craters, wreckages and the dead. The vegetation there was gone, only a few defying trees remained, all burning; in fact there were several fires. Yaidev assumed that some were being used to burn the ork corpses in order to prevent them from spreading their spores. As the dragon moved up the west-slope to the settlement, she watched as the Wild Host returned, the Wild Rider clans on their Jetbikes and Vypers among the first, waving around stolen banners of the defeated enemy. One was even holding a necklace with giant teeth, likely taken as a trophy from a dead ork, as the barbaric aliens used their own teeth as currency. The returning warriors were greeted by the civilians and defenders with great cheering, many Exodites raising their weapons to the sky and as Yaidev and the Exodite Dragon Knight reached the edge of the central square, she heard a familiar voice, though this time not from the crystal.
Ilthaldir laughed as he and the other Reapers approached and Yaidev leaped off the dragon. "I've said they'd put us on Jetbikes, but our sister seems to have found an alternative." He proclaimed, the others joining in and even Yaidev laughed with them, though she was certain that under normal circumstances she would have blushed instead. Ilthaldir put a hand on her shoulder, his voice having turned more serious. "We are all relieved that you have survived your fall, sister."
"As am I." Yaidev assured him, joyful at this warm welcoming; yes, Dark Reapers were the most reserved among the Aspect Shrines, calm in manner, but still brothers and sister. "But I am more gladdened to see that none of you has perished in my absence."
Felanwé nodded. "I hope that next time you stay with us for the entire battle."
Ilthaldir removed his hand again and Yaidev felt the smile fading from her lips. "I will not disappoint you again." She promised, feeling anger returning to her mind, not directed at him, but herself.
"No one said your performance was disappointing." Ilthaldir told her, a reassuring tone lingering in his voice. "Only Cadaith will pass judgement in that regard." His head turned to the Exodite, still on top of his dragon, waiting. "Honoured Knight, can you tell us as to how our sister preformed?"
"She slayed every ork foolish enough to attack us, uncaring for the wounds she took." His voice almost sounded solemnly, making her frown.
"Minor wounds; they are hardly worth mentioning." Yaidev intervened, her eyes regarding the handful of penetrated plates.
"Your own blood is upon your armour, which is damaged, the bullets of your now dead enemies are stuck in your flesh and yet you stand here." Felanwé listed, factually. "Nothing more is expected from your very first battle. You were fortunate that our task had been a simple one, but next time we might get closer to the frontlines."
Maldorahn nodded once. "Indeed; no matter how many battles you face, there will always be room for improvement, new skills to gain for which you will need to work hard." He turned to his brothers. "But enough of this, we should meet with our Exarch; he stayed on the palisade."
"Of course." Yaidev turned around, saluting with her right fist on her left collarbone. "You have my gratitude for your help today, Sierann."
Once more he bowed his head to her briefly. "It was an honour and a pleasure, daughter of Maugan-Ra; may his teachings bring you peace."
"May Isha smile upon you and your kin."
Without another word he guided his dragon away from the Aspect Warriors, to vanish in the larger growing crowd of Exodites and craftworld eldar. She followed her brothers back to the palisade, the structure now covered with more dead orks and a few of the Defender Guardians, their Spirit Stones shining brightly in the evening, as the last light of day faded. Artillery had taken down one of the watchtowers, huge holes had been broken out of the bone-palisade, the ground now slippery from the blood. From time to time Yaidev would look back to the square, where close to the crystal-stone ring, a large bonfire had been ignited. Wild Riders carried the stolen banners, lighting them on fire, before waving them over the cheering eldar as they turned to ash, the sparks falling everywhere like little stars. Some threw entire ork heads into the flames, while like vultures other Riders circled over the fire, chanting hymns to Khaine, thanking him for his favour
Meanwhile Falcons and other transport vehicles already returned to the webway and Yaidev assumed that they brought the wounded to the ships. The Saim-Hannian host would not stay for long and celebrate the victory on the craftworld. Yaidev removed her gaze from the activities, when the Reapers reached the top of the palisade, where Cadaith was waiting, his eyes fixed on his youngest student. "Are you alright, Yaidev?" There was almost something fatherly in her Exarch's voice, as he studied her, warming her heart though his expression remained hidden behind the helmet.
She nodded. "I am well; a sprained foot, but otherwise nothing more than bruises and cuts, hardly worth mentioning."
"Good news indeed." Cadaith turned to the others, addressing all his students. "It fills my heart with joy and pride to see that you all have survived. We shall return to the shrine and properly celebrate our victory tonight."
The House of Healing was filled with long white halls, the wraithbone creating dozens of arches above their heads, holding the high ceiling, while each hall held hundreds of benches in straight rows for the injured, sometimes separated from one another with silky curtains of blood red color. Yaidev had been brought to the hall where the lightly injured were taken to, her eyes regarding a massive and very detailed painting on the ceiling itself, depicting how the gods had taught their children to cure each other. She almost expected the figures to start moving; truly only the most skilled of Saim-Hann's artists had worked on this project.
"I thought Dark Reapers stood aside from the battle." The healer taking care of her noted, just as he pulled out the metal bullet in her thigh.
Yaidev looked back down at him, not judging him to be much older than her, his long black hair braided to be kept at bay. "If war were to bend to our rules, our kin would have never lost a battle, healer." She answered him calmly, her war-mask having already been removed. Still she watched him keenly, studying his posture as if she was subconsciously searching for weak spots.
He was undoubtedly uncomfortable around her, his eyes meeting her sometimes briefly, only to turn back down again, his body language betraying his tension. "I meant no offense." He quickly assured her, afraid to have said something wrong.
"None has been taken, healer. Simply continue with your task." His fright amused her, going so far as to give her a certain sense of pride; she was being recognized as a warrior of Saim-Hann.
In silence the healer continued, covering the wound with bindings before psychic energies mended the bones and ligaments, as he sang an incantation; as Bonesingers changed wraithbone with their music and Exodites formed the dragon bone with theirs, so did the healer repair hers, the psychic energies stimulating her cells, after he had manually brought the bones into the correct positions again.
As soon as he had finished his task, his mentor called for him. "Naverhan, your aid is required in operating theatre."
"I come at once." The young healer assured him, before turning back to Yaidev. "Your injuries are healed, but you must allow yourself as much rest as possible for your body to fully recover."
"I shall inform my Exarch about your recommendation, healer. Go to your mentor; I'm certain more require your help."
"Elith, Dark Reaper. May fortune favour you." He bowed politely and left Yaidev on her bench, who put on her armour again, knowing one of her bothers was waiting outside to escort her back to the shrine.
…
The wine was refreshing, spreading warmth through Yaidev's body, only this time it calmed her, dulling her senses comfortably; including what remained of her pain. Only after the battle, when a healer had taken care of her wounds, had she learned that more than her foot had been sprained. Several ribs had taken damage, two having been cracked, though now healed and a few ligaments had almost been torn. Her armour had, due to its structure, supported her so well that Yaidev hadn't notice these injuries until she'd taken it off again. Had her foot not constantly been burdened with carrying her weight, she likely wouldn't have taken notice of its injury as well.
Now, a few hours later the Dark Reapers sat together in their garden and training ground, a few lightstones in their midst, along with food and drinks. The Exarch was quiet as his students frolicsomely talked. Yaidev had noticed how they did not speak of the battle, at least not of their own experiences and admittedly, Yaidev herself didn't remember much of it. She knew they had taken position on a palisade, she knew she had killed and fallen, that she had met a Dragon Knight and returned with him to the settlement, but when she tried to remember more details, no pictures came to her mind, no emotions, as if she herself had not truly lived through it, but had only heard of the events. No, the only thing she did remember clearly was how she had woken up in the forest, after falling from the palisade.
Suddenly Ilthaldir turned to her, a broad smile on his lips. "I suppose it is time our sister receives her full recognition for her deeds this day."
"Of what are you speaking?" She asked him, her one eyebrows raised suspiciously.
Felanwé put down his glass. "As you know, every warrior has the sigil of Saim-Hann tattooed somewhere on his or her body." Her other brother reminded her. "And now that you have proven yourself as one and slain the enemies of our craftworld, you have earned the right to receive yours."
"You say I can leave the temple again?" Yaidev was surprised how little joy this news gave her, her question having been asked with a factual tone. She felt with heart and soul that her place was in this shrine, her training having become the center of her life.
Maldorahn smiled mildly and nodded. "Indeed, now that you have your anger fairly well under control, you no longer pose an immediate threat to others. However, most warriors remain within their shrines or at the very least this district of Saim-Hann until they are ready to leave for a new Path."
"There are wonderful artists at the Plaza of Everlasting Victories." Ilthaldir suggested, bringing them back to the original topic of conversation. "Most warriors will be too busy celebrating tonight, so I assume the artists will have time tonight."
"Shall we go right away?"
Yaidev felt a little uncomfortable with all eyes resting upon her, but finally nodded to her brothers. "Excellent." Ilthaldir rejoiced, and they all rose from their cushions, except for Cadaith, who took another sip from his glass. "Now where should you wear it?
"It is not uncommon to place the first tattoo at the spot where you've killed your first enemy." Maldorahn noted; unfortunately none of them could remember such a detail.
That was except for their Exarch. Still seated, his eyes closed as if he was meditating Cadaith spoke, his low voice well audible to them all. "Her first enemy died from a shot that entered its skull behind the right ear. A small snake there should be suitable."
Felanwé turned back to his sister. "Ultimately it is still your decision." He reminded her.
She smiled at him and nodded. "I know, but the spot will do just fine." Yaidev turned back to her Exarch. "A black snake to remember with whom I stood on that day."
Now even Cadaith smiled, if only very subtly and he gave a single appreciative nod, as the small group departed.
…
The Plaza of Everlasting Victories was one of the greatest public spaces on Saim-Hann, capable of holding hundreds of thousands. Located under a dome at the center of the craftworld, several streets broad and small led the circular square, a tall statue of a snake in its centre, the myriads of wraithbone scales shimmering in all shades of emerald, presenting its white fangs proudly as it towered over a dead demon. Saim-Hann had been one of the very first craftworlds to leave the elder empire, the home worlds of their kin, listening to the warnings of their Farseers; it was a fact the Saim-Hannian were proud of.
Statues of the gods surrounded the plaza, along with trees and pillars of wraithbone. The latter were actually made of several, intertwining tubes, creating elegant shapes and knots, ending in tree-like branches as they reached the top, merging with the wraitbone network of the ceiling. At the square's borders were also several buildings, a few storeys high, with restaurants, the greatest theatre on the craftworld and of course the tattoo shop, among others. Such body decoration was very common on Saim-Hann and several of these shops could be found everywhere; the individual clans even had their own artists, exclusively for their families.
The four Dark Reapers kept away from the busy centre of the plaza, the Saim-Hannian still celebrating their great victory over the orks. Wonderful music was playing, joyous and exciting and the smell of wine and other drinks hung lightly in the air. Eldar talked and danced, warriors, especially Wild Riders, boasted about their deeds in battle, describing daring moves and difficult kills to all who would listen. Other than Aspect Warriors, the Riders not always wore their masks, though most young Riders would only fight once without, soon disgusted with the true viciousness of war and its horrors.
Besides, even Wild Riders, with all their pride and bravery, were not foolish enough to abandoned the war-mask altogether. Not all were disgusted by war, some finding themselves enjoying the bloodshed, but to invite such feeling without mental protection, such as the mask, meant allowing She-Who-Thirst to tear at one's soul; such depravity attracted Her attention and that of her minions. Few would risk damnation for the thrill of a battle without the war-mask. Yes, tonight they boasted, drunk, still full with adrenaline, but soon enough they would wish to forget the sight of death, its stench, the screaming of wounded echoing in their ears; Yaidev had heard plenty of stories about war from her fellow clan members, tales of the horrors most poets liked to leave out, when writing of some heroic battle. War wasn't clean and rarely heroic; and to Yaidev it was her duty, despite the momentary joy she'd felt today.
Yaidev stopped her line of thoughts as they reached the tattoo shop. Similar to the House of Healing, there were two rows of benches, though only offering room for about twenty eldar. As the Reapers entered, two artists were already at work and a third came down the spiral staircase from the second floor, his long red coat fluttering behind him. The front of his blond hair had been tied into a high pony-tail, while his bare arms were covered with black ink, same as his neck, the longest lines framing his slender face. He approached them with a smile, his arms opened welcomingly. "Cerka, honored warriors. I congratulate you on your victory on Nal'shadar." He bowed, though different from other citizens, he seemed not intimidated by the Aspect Warrior's, or Khaine's touch upon them. "How may I serve you on this fine evening?"
It was Felanwé who spoke. "Our sister has fought for the craftworld for the first time on the Maiden World. She requires the sigil of our beloved home."
"Nothing easier." The artist assured them. "Are there any specifications?"
…
Ten minutes later Yaidev relaxed as she laid there on one of the comfortable benches, the fine needles delivering the colour beneath her skin. Pain had become a well-known acquaintance, even in her short time as an Aspect Warrior and the pain of getting a tattoo was comparatively comfortable, while she continued to listen to the music outside. There were a few moments, like when the needles got close to bone that almost had her flinch, but patiently she waited unmoving, letting the artist complete his work. Besides, her brothers were watching. On other craftworlds the warriors adored their armours with gems or elaborate designs; on Saim-Hann they got tattoos. And now, Yaidev was truly one of them.
Author's note:
For all of you who are interested, there is now a portrait of Yaidev on my deviant art account; a link can be found on my profile page.
I will add more eldar vocabulary to the story, based on the list on "the dark city" wikia, composed of words used in the codices, Black Library books and other materials published by Games Workshop. Just in case I will add the translation at the end of every chapter.
Cerka: "greetings"
Sierann: term for the Exodite Dragon Knight
Orkead: "orks"
Elith: "Farewell"