Author's Note: Yes, this is the new chapter; sorry it took so long, but I've finished "Hunted" and "Victoria Primus" first. Now I can focus on this story, so finally it will be updated more regularly. And please review, just a sentence or two would be enough; it's just a simple fact that feedback motivates.
On "Pathfinders": As there has been a lot of confusion about the term "Pathfinder" in the past, here a little clarification. Eldar Pathfinders are Rangers that have been on the Path of the Outcast for centuries, yet do not wish to return to their craftworld, perhaps deciding never to stop wandering among the stars; one could say that what the Exarch is to the Aspect Warriors, a Farseer to the Seers, the Pathfinder is to the Ranger.
Now I have often heard that some believe Pathfinders are Rangers coming from Aliatoc; this is not true. Due to the strict lifestyle on that particular craftworld, a comparatively great number of its inhabitants become Rangers at some point in their lives in order to escape Aliatoc for a while. Naturally this means a large number, when compared to other craftworlds, also become Pathfinders.
So yes, many Pathfinders come in fact from Aliatoc, but not exclusively. Actually the Aliatoc's Pathfinders prefer to call themselves "Starstriders", the most influential and famous being Illiac Nightspear, just like Saim-Hann's Windriders(Guardian Jetbike Squadron) are known as Wild Riders.
Path 2
Dark Reaper
The Destroyer Part 1
"Maldorahn, six on your left. Ilthaldir, assist Felanwé in the centre; there are four more coming from above." Cadaith ordered his students. "Yaidev continue to cover the right, your brothers can handle their burdens. If your attention is diverted you leave them open to be flanked and slaughtered."
Yaidev gritted her teeth. The area she was observing was currently clear and she heard her brothers constantly firing at incoming enemies. What if one of them fell? What if she could prevent it by simply turning around and joining them? But she tried to listen to her Exarch; after all he had millennia of experience and how long had she been a Dark Reaper? Months? No, it had to be even longer.
The war-mask was agitating her, a lust for battle burning through her veins, setting every fibre on fire. Suddenly she heard Maldorahn snarl in pain, obviously hit. No longer able to hold herself back, Yaidev swirled around as fast as her armour allowed and fired, her targeting system finding victims as soon as her eyes swept the area.
Then something hit her from behind like a fist. Yaidev was tossed to the ground, next to a kneeling Maldorahn, who was holding his leg. The fire stopped almost immediately. Groaning quietly, the young eldar got back on her feet as the lights in the shooting gallery of her shrine brightened and Cadaith emerged from the shadows, a pistol still in hand. She knew he had shot her.
"You were told to watch the right flank." The Exarch told her calmly. "The enemy will take advantage if you give them such an opportunity in battle."
"Maldorahn had been wounded and there was an immediate threat on our left flank." She tried to defend herself, trying to keep her temper at bay, but Cadaith lifted a hand to stop her.
"I overview the situation, child. Unless I give word, the formation will not be changed. I was about to redirect Ilthaldir's fire before you made up your mind." He explained and his eyes narrowed. "You are to embrace your anger and shape it into a tool, but never let emotions sway you in battle. Other aspects may allow it, but not the disciples of Maugan Ra."
With her body and mind still agitated Yaidev took a deep, controlled breath before she answered. She needed to calm down. "Of course, Exarch." She finally replied and bowed her head, her heart beating slower already. Yaidev knew he spoke the truth, after all it was why she had come here; to control her anger, but so far she felt that she had only managed to contain the fire. It was not yet tamed.
He nodded. "This shall be enough for today; evening is already upon us. You may remove your armours and begin with your meditation. We shall meet here again in the morning."
His student bowed and Cadaith departed without another word. Felanwé kneeled down next to Maldorahn and helped him removed the hardened wraithbone coating his leg, Ilthaldir doing the same for Yaidev with the round that had hit her at the right shoulder. The training rounds contained a liquid form of wraithbone; upon impact it spread, formed a tight mesh and hardened, all within seconds. Thankfully the filaments were also comparatively brittle, allowing easy removal after a training session.
As Ilthaldir removed the last pieces from her armour and Felanwé helped Maldorahn back to his feet, Yaidev looked to the wraithbone dummies, humanoid in appearance and each with a shimmering gem on their chest. No souls rested in them and controlled the dummies however; with their psychic abilities, Seers had manipulated the gems, creating something of a rudimentary consciousness, enough to make them move, shoot and obey. Ultimately souls too were psychic imprints, if much more complex.
Together all four of them returned to the armoury, a small section there being reserved for the armours in use. Piece by piece they put them away, starting with the helmet. As Yaidev removed her boots Felanwé addressed her, having already finished. "Do not let his words bother you so greatly." He told her firmly. "We all have made very similar mistakes in the past."
Ilthaldir nodded, taking off the last of his gloves. "Indeed. Take comfort in thought that it only happened during training and not in battle."
"I'm glad that I have not caused you or myself harm in the few battles we've fought in, but I feel as if I've hardly progressed since my first donning of the war-mask." She admitted, hiding the touch of frustration that was flaring up within her.
Now Maldorahn joined in. "Most eldar spent decades, sometimes even more than a century on a Path before they are ready to move on to another and as you can see, we are all still here."
"More than a century?" No, she hadn't spent so much time on this Path yet. "It sometimes feels as if I've only just arrived."
"Emotions experienced as powerfully as our race does, are not easily subdued or changed." The oldest of the Reapers reminded her, removing the last few pieces of wraithbone from his armour.
"And time, at least our perception of it, passes differently here in this shrine than it does in the rest of the craftworld, due to our focused training." Felanwé continued to explain and tapped once with a finger against his temple. "And our state of mind."
"When I first left the Path of the Warrior centuries ago, I was astonished to learn that I had spent eighty years within the shrine."
Surprised Yaidev looked at Maldorahn, blinking rapidly briefly. "I wonder how long I've truly been here." She spoke, her voice barely more than a whisper as she was thinking aloud rather than addressing her fellow Reapers.
"You will know once you have finished this Path." Felanwé assured her, smiling for a moment. "But worry not about this; things change little while we are here and whatever friends and family wait for you out there will certainly be there regardless of how long you've been here."
Yaidev did not reply and merely nodded. The only other battle she had fought in since their defence of the Exodites, had hardly been a battle at all; it had been a slaughter. Many of the orks, which had survived and fled, had gathered on a nearby planet, their individual chieftains fighting for control over the entire horde. Of course Saim-Hann had not allowed this. A new Wild-Host had been assembled and sent to destroy the ilk before they could become a threat once again. The Dark Reapers had taken position at a ravine, just at a dead end, along with Guardians, most of which had been using anti-grav weapons platforms, while the Wild Riders had pushed the orks into the ravine, like a herder his flock to the slaughter.
Trapped like this, surrounded by eldar, the orkead had perished and so one ork clan after the other had been destroyed in much the same manner. At last Fire Dragons had burned their unfortunate victims, destroying as many spores as possible to prevent the orkead from returning. Still, the Rangers would have a vigilant eye on the world the orks had been hiding on.
Some time later there had almost been a conflict with eldar corsairs, only narrowly avoided by a last moment agreement, though like her fellow Reapers, Yaidev knew nothing more about it.
Could it be that she had already spent decades on this Path without realizing it? It seemed almost preposterous, but given other Path like the Dreamers, who lived like in trance for years or the Seer, who could spent cycles meditating without moving a single muscle, it was certainly not impossible. Yaidev pushed these thoughts aside for a moment. Her brothers were right. She would train and study the lessons of her Exarch until she was ready to leave the shrine forever.
The countless days that followed blurred together, each passing like the one before. After what her brothers had told her Yaidev tried to recall, but so far had failed to ascertain how long she'd been a Dark Reaper. In the end she had decided for herself that truly it mattered little and admittedly she was comfortable, even enjoyed her new life. Despite the constant training and fighting, there was something peaceful about the daily routine in the shrine. It brought balance to her. This was especially noticeable during the meditation in the morning and evening.
Aside from calming her down after the training, it provided Yaidev with time for contemplation. Her new found control over her rage, most of it having been forged into her war-mask, allowed her to consider matters, specifically about her family, in a more neutral light.
Saim-Hann was considered the most savage among the craftworlds, the perhaps first to have left the Crone Worlds behind, with a culture similar to that of the Exodites, who had turned their backs on their corrupted kin of ancient times even earlier.
Her craftworld had even gone to war against another, Kaelor, shortly after the Fall, which had been virtually rent apart in the conflict; ironically that craftworld had almost torn itself apart in bloody inner conflicts afterwards. There were also the clashes between Saim-Hann's own clans, though thankfully those were nowadays usually solved with honour-duels, which rarely proved lethal. Her aunt's fate had been an unfortunate, if not unheard of, exception.
Shadira's death still saddened the young eldar, but her anger had lessened; at least her anger towards her father and her clan. The honour-duel was a tradition older than Saim-Hann itself, a single fight instead of long lasting bloodshed and endless feuds. She had to admit that all her clan had done was to respect the rules.
Any sign of indignation at Shadira's death could have provoked further hostilities, exactly what the duel had been meant to prevent. It would have not only caused further bloodshed, but would have also dishonoured her, not only a fellow rider, but the sister of their clan's chief.
Perhaps the clan was correct; at least she'd died honourably. Yaidev shifted, a frown hushing over her features. Such thoughts were new to her. Of course she still regarded her aunt's death as unnecessary, but perhaps she'd come to accept it and see that there was more to it than it being merely a tragedy. It had not been pointless.
Yaidev smirked joylessly. Was she thinking more as a warrior? Was her life here influencing her opinions, her reasoning? Or perhaps she was only searching for meaning in what had happened.
Still, her father was not to blame; he did not deserve her hate, not even for his apparent indifference. Could her own sorrow have blinded her, made her overlook his? Yaidev knew that he had always been protective of his sister. Gods, she was beginning to feel like a fool.
The Wrathbringer clan had always been at odds with her's. By now Yaidev assumed that the duel had been a pretence, a means to undermine Thalduin; to have challenged him directly would have been crude and would have gained them the discontent of the other clans. But defeating his sister…
Yaidev felt her heart beginning to race and her fists clenching. No, these meditations were meant to calm her spirits. For the time being she should let go of these considerations. One step at a time.
…
Felanwé moved silently over the roots, angling his body in such a manner that it wouldn't brush against the many twigs and branches in his way. Yaidev followed him and while her body was certainly agile and slender enough, her modified Reaper Launcher proved to be burden in this environment. The helmets allowed their eyes to penetrate the darkness of the forest, the lenses colouring everything in shades of red.
Suddenly Felanwé lifted a hand, Yaidev stopped and listened. Maldorahn and Ilthaldir had to be close by; the woods in the shrine's garden and simultaneous training grounds were small if dense. All eldar forces needed to be able to move swiftly and without drawing attention on a moment's notice, even Dark Reapers. Though they often served as defenders or had the enemy droved to them for the slaughter, there could always arise situations that required them to shift position.
Exarch Cadaith had split his students into two groups and today Maldorahn and Ilthaldir needed to hunt their two siblings, while they crossed through the forest. It was Yaidev's and Felanwé's goal to make it through and take their hunters out if need be, without suffering losses.
Felanwé made a series of gestures. He believed that their brothers were waiting for them, instead of bothering to hunt them down. A wise move. The Reapers' targeting systems would not be able to find them if they gave no indication of their presence and remained as unmoving as their surroundings.
Yaidev quickly realised that they needed to draw them out. Quickly she gestured a reply, offering herself as bait. Felanwé hesitated for a moment but agreed and suggested a path she should take. Yaidev nodded and her brother-in-arms took his position. She looked to him over her shoulder, he gave a nod and she ran.
Branches bend and twigs snapped, the leaves rustling treacherously; as intended. And her brothers were eager for a kill. She heard the hissing of a weapon firing and swiftly lowered her head as she kept running. A projectile hit the tree next to her, Yaidev briefly looking over her shoulder to see white wraithbone coating part of its bark where it had been hit. Yaidev leaped over a high root, jumped again and kicked the trunk of a tree, thus suddenly switching direction.
She heard another modified Reaper Launcher fired and Ilthaldir's voice as he snarled; apparently he'd been hit. One less, she thought excitedly. Yet another weapon joined in and it became quickly clear that Felanwé and Maldorahn were caught up in a firefight. Yaidev stopped and turned around, now moving towards the sound of Maldorahn's weapon, though now more slowly and carefully.
Suddenly something moved to her left, her weapon swung around. She found Ilthaldir still on the ground, wraithbone covering his chest and right arm where Felanwé had hit him. He gave her a curt nod and she moved on.
She was getting closer, the sounds grew louder and Yaidev was passing wraithbone-marked trees now. For a moment she held in, body pressed against a tree and scanned her surroundings. She knew where Felanwé was, a small rune indicating his position left beyond a few trees. It was simple enough to see whereto he was shooting and soon enough fire was returned from a location in front and slightly to the left of her. It would be relatively easy to get behind Maldorahn.
Cautiously Yaidev moved even closer, mindful not to make any further treacherous sounds and from tree to tree. Suddenly a new rune appeared on her display, only a few meters in front of her and her own modified launcher locked on. Yaidev smiled; it would be over in a matter of seconds.
Maldorahn dodged sideways, avoiding narrowly Felanwé's rounds and it was just what she had been hoping for. She opened fire herself and her brother was tossed forward by three rounds that hit his back, coating it with wraithbone. He fell, his body disappearing between roots and shrubs and the rune vanished again from her display.
Felanwé stopped firing and once again it became quiet in the woods, except for Maldorahn, who was trying to get back on his feet, though due to the hardened wraithbone could not bend his back any longer. He turned around, spotting Yaidev for the first time and like Ilthaldir the older eldar nodded once, affirming her 'kill'. Felanwé approached moments later, naturally no longer bothering to hide.
Briefly the Reaper stopped beside their brother and checked on him, before helping him back on his feet. As Maldorahn headed towards the border of the forest, Felanwé joined Yaidev and without speaking to each other they continued on, with no obstacle between them and their destination any more. "Well then." He began nonetheless after a while, sounding quite pleased, just as Yaidev was feeling . "It would seem we were victorious this time."
…
"Yaidev and Ilthaldir."
As Cadaith named them, both Reapers rose and walked upon the circle made of black and white sand. Here she had met the Exarch upon first entering the shrine. Now after the duel between Felanwé and Maldorahn, the two intertwining drops were somewhat blurred, as they were after every training session. Sometimes when Yaidev walked through the garden in the evening following her meditation, she could watch Cadaith fix the sands and restore the intended shape again. With graceful, slow and very precise movements and the help of a broom or rake of sorts would he sweep the grains back into place; it was almost a form of meditation in itself.
At first both Reapers bowed to their Exarch and then to one another, each standing at opposite sides of the circle, Yaidev on the black drop, Ilthaldir on the white. Only now did they draw their long training-knives, blunt, but nonetheless capable of inflicting injuries.
Yaidev took her fighting stance, knees slightly bend, her muscles at ease. Tensed up she would only restrain herself, but her heart was beating faster with joy. It was Ilthaldir who moved first, not fast, but slow and cautious like a hunter circling prey, waiting for the right moment to strike. She had fought him before, she had seen him fight and Yaidev knew that it was not only tactic. If one watched closely enough, one could even detect the slightest hint of hesitation in his movements. He was uncertain of how to approach her; he waited for her.
And she did him the favour. Yaidev leaped forth like a feline predator, the blade in her left hand coming for his head. Quickly he brought his own up, blocking the attack. She was already moving and beside him, pushing his arm towards his chest, forcing his blade closer to his body. As her knife came down again, Ilthaldir let himself fall, dodging the blade. He rolled, getting back on his feet behind her and wheeled around at the same time, not wanting to present her his back for any longer than necessary.
This time he attacked, trying a stab, but she swept his arm aside with her free hand, the back of her hand against his wrist. She instead attempted a slash, diagonal from his neck across his chest. He stepped aside blocking her again, the back of his arm against hers.
Suddenly she lowered herself, moved behind him and landed a kick in the back of his left knee. Ilthaldir snarled and went down as she rose, the pain spreading along his entire leg. Yaidev took the advantage grabbed the hand holding the knife by the wrist and twisted it around. The swift and powerful move, involving her whole body, threw her opponent onto his back and the weapon escaped his grasp.
Yaidev kneeled down beside his head, still holding the wrist, his arm over her leg. Depending on the pressure she exerted, she could inflict pain or even break it with a simple motion. It was merely a precaution, as her own knife was now across his throat.
She looked up at Cadaith. The Exarch did not speak, she hadn't expected him to and only gave her a single nod.
…
When Yaidev joined her brothers some time later, they were already dining and like each evening she sat down on one of the pillows around the low table. As she took some pita, Ilthaldir spoke to her. "I must say, after today I'm almost certain you were trained in the way of the blade before you became Cadaith's student."
"I can assure you that this is my first time on the Path of the Warrior. My family taught me the basics of melee combat, but I believe I've learned more here." Yaidev smiled mildly, though feeling a little flattered. "Perhaps I merely have a talent for it, dear brother."
Ilthaldir chuckled and nodded; as usual he took his defeat very well, something she liked about him. "I shall keep it in mind."
Yaidev smiled and began to eat, feeling hungry after the long day and the physical exercises. As it had become silent among the warriors and her mind became more active again, her thoughts racing, debating numerous question, considering various issues, though they all were, in one way or the other, related to her current Path.
After a while she began to speak. "There is something I've been wondering for a while now." Yaidev already knew why they were not meant to discuss what had brought them to the Path of the Warrior, but there was something else. "Why do we not speak of our pasts in general?"
It was the oldest of the Reapers, who answered her. "Because there is the possibility that two of us belong to rivalling clans. If we were to know, we could not function as well as a unit, as our sentiments would impair our judgment and our shrine would be weakened."
"In turn this could prove devastating for each deployment that we are on. The Host needs us to fulfil our duties without fail; infighting cannot be allowed or tolerated." Felanwé added sternly and Yaidev got the impression that he had seen it happening before.
Maldorahn saw that it was not the only question on her mind and he smiled kindly at her. "There is another question you have?" He inquired and she nodded. "Ask it."
For a moment Yaidev hesitated and when she finally spoke, her voice was low at first. "Our war-masks are forged by our emotions; it allows us to control our anger, our need for destruction and bloodshed. Is it possible that the war-mask can take over?" She bit her lower lip, briefly uncertain as to how she should proceed, but her brothers gave her time. "I do not mean how the Exarchs cannot release themselves of it, but that it fails in its purpose and the bloodlust overcomes one still, without chance of overcoming or controlling it."
Ilthaldir looked at the glass in his hand, while Maldorahn and Felanwé looked at one another, as if silently communicating. It was the latter who replied this time. "Was it not like this for Arhra?"
Yaidev knew this name, like all eldar. "The original Phoenix Lord of the Striking Scorpions?"
Maldorahn nodded, his expression having become grimmer, his voice now sounding significantly cooler. "Like all of the Phoenixes and Exarchs, he could no longer release himself of the war-mask. But unlike the others it controlled not his anger or bloodlust, it came to control him; instead of a tool, it became his damnation. His murderous nature ultimately overwhelmed him and so his soul was claimed by Chaos, essentially making him like our cousins." He paused to take a deep breath and calm himself down; something about mentioning the dark eldar had clearly agitated him. "All Asurya, all Exarch feel the constant need to seek battle and fight in Khaine's name, but they can control these urges, even if they will never be free of them."
"But not the fallen one."
He shook his head. "No; at least tis what I've heard." Maldorahn looked to their brother but neither wished to add anything to what he had told their newest sister. "I cannot say if it is the truth."
Yaidev let his words sink in. She did not fear to suffer the same fate as Arhra; it seemed to be a very rare event and she could feel that the anger, which had brought her here in the first place, was lessening and letting go of her war-mask was rather simple. Never had she encountered problems and whenever she did release it, her emotional landscape changed significantly. But her curiosity was satisfied. For now.
It was rare for Yaidev these days to leave the shrine of the Singing Scythe and to wander among her people. Today however she and Felanwé were walking in one of Saim-Hann's many domes, as Cadaith had been called away to attend to a gathering. He had shared no details with his students and in his absence they all used this time to disrupt the daily routine for once, if just for a few hours.
The two Reapers followed the boulevard, which went across the entire dome, bordered by high trees and lawn. Occasionally pathways led away from the main street to the buildings beyond the vegetation, many of which were towers that served additionally as pillars, supporting the dome itself as they merged with it at the top.
Beyond the mostly transparent roof Yaidev saw vessels flying across the craftworld and spires, though due to the light within the structure and the sun Saim-Hann was currently orbiting, the stars were hidden from her sight. Still it was pleasant to see it all again after a long time in the shrine.
They continued to walk some distance, both ignoring the other eldar, who kept a respectful distance to the Aspect Warriors, neither speaking. At a fountain, its central piece crafted into a dragon spitting water instead of fire and a warrior only armed with a sword at its feet, the two stopped, Yaidev sitting down at the rim. As she regarded the fountain, the young warrior remembered a story she had read a long time ago, back when she had walked the Path of the Poet, a fable of sorts. It had told the story of an eldar, who had sought a treasure hidden away by a dragon, though in the end it had been revealed that the dragon had not guarded the hoard, but the eldar from the accursed valuables.
"Have you ever wondered if such beasts have truly roamed our worlds in ancient times?" Felanwé asked after a while, gazing upon the fountain as well.
"The 'dragons' of the Exodites are remarkably similar, wouldn't you agree?"
He smiled mildly. "They are, but I have yet to see one spit fire."
"Perhaps some did." She suggested quietly and only now looked at him. "When our people lived on the crone worlds. Or maybe some still do."
He nodded slowly. "Then I suggest we should visit our planet-dwelling cousins some time to learn the truth." He paused and met her gaze. "Once this Path is behind us."
Thoughtfully Yaidev regarded him; other than during battle itself, when his war-mask was donned, she could never see anger in him. "You seem already at peace." She told him.
"My battle rages inside." Felanwé admitted. "Not all anger, not all need for destruction is aimed at those around one." He placed a hand on his chest. "But sometimes at oneself."
Yaidev merely nodded in understanding and decided not to inquire further. He deserved privacy and they were not meant to discuss these things. It was a personal journey and any lasting realization could only come from oneself. At least such was their way. Perhaps other shrines had a different approach.
"I believe we are about to receive company."
Yaidev looked over her shoulder and spotted another eldar, clearly heading their direction. She immediately recognized the colouring pattern of her clan, dominated by red and green with the two intertwined, golden snakes on the hem of his robe. His blonde hair was bound together into a high pony-tail and from his green eyes Yaidev could already read that he was greatly uncomfortable, even nervous.
The eldar bowed respectfully to her when he reached them, keeping a little more than a meter between him and the warriors. "I have searched for you, Yaidev Baharothaís." Stormrider; she hadn't been called this in a long time.
"Of what service can I be, fellow rider?" She asked him politely, her features betraying no emotion.
He shifted his shoulder, as if he was trying to make himself more comfortable. "Your father requests your presence at a celebration in two cycles. He would appreciate it, if you attended the Nua-Haras."
"Nua-Haras?" Eldar children were rare compared to other species of the galaxy. Given this and their dwindling number, each child was considered a great blessing. The Nua-Haras was a celebration, during which the parents-to- be, especially the pregnant mother received the first blessings of their family, friends and on Saim-Hann those of the entire clan. "Who of the Bharothaíes do we congratulate on this fortune?"
"Celwen and Nuadir. The first child in some time for our clan." Her reaction had obviously eased him; her little spat with her father was apparently no secret. Perhaps he had feared a more aggressive response from her.
Yaidev nodded. "Inform my father that if the Exarch permits it, I will attend."
Once more he bowed. "I shall, honoured warrior. Elith." Her relative seemed eager to leave their presence again, his pace quick, a flicker of relief in his expression as he turned around.
"Chiefs of Wild Rider clans usually do not ask." Felanwé began after the Stormrider had disappeared in the crowd.
Thoughtfully Yaidev gazed at the waters. "It is surprising, considering the way we parted." She noted, but decided not to reveal more.
"The respect our kin pays their Aspect Warriors."
Did he truly respect her? Saim-Hann valued honour and warriors were more highly-esteemed than those, who chose not to fight. Had her time with the Dark Reapers been enough to satisfy her father's, her family's expectations? "I suppose he got what he wished for." Yaidev finally told her brother. "He always wanted me to fight."
"Perhaps, but you didn't act on his wishes." Felanwé reminded her; he had been the one to lead her to the shrine. He knew how she had felt that evening. "Your own emotions brought you to this Path."
She nodded and tore her gaze from the waves and back to him, the corners of her mouth pulled up for a ghost of a smile. "And they shall lead me away again one day."
The black-haired Reaper did not dispute this and remained silent for a moment. "I assume Celwen and Nuadir are 'bonded'?" Apparently he had decided to change to topic of their conversation.
"No, neither by the Aonaidril nor the eternal bond but they have been together for several decades. It is all I know about them." Their kin knew two form of matrimony, the most common being the Aonaidril, literally 'the bond' between two eldar. It was however not necessarily eternal.
Eldar lived long lives, so it was quite possible that one could outlive their beloved, their Cheritari or Cheritaris by centuries, or that other factors drove them apart again one day. It was something many eldar feared and so the Aonaidril could be undone if there was ever need. It however didn't mean that the eldar bounded by this ritual desired or expected to part ways. Eldar experienced emotion very strongly and with that came a desire to express such emotions. And this ceremony was perhaps one of the strongest expressions, one never done lightly.
"May I ask if your parents have performed the bonding ritual?" Felanwé asked her more carefully, his eyes studying her features.
She smiled; no, the thought of her parents didn't enrage her. Not much. "The Aonaidril." Yaidev explained. "My mother is his second wife."
"May I be so bold as to ask what happened to his first?"
The crimsoned-haired eldar sighed; it was not a happy tale. "They had a son and like all of the clans he soon rode into battle with them. He fell and his mother despaired; she was overcome by anger and became once more an Aspect Warrior. Today she leads the Swooping Hawks of the Soaring Blades shrine into battle." She let a finger touch the water surface, creating a disturbance in the waves. For a moment she watched them until those her finger had created were overcome. "My father was long in mourning after the loss of his first son and wife. Only after many years did he allow himself to end his loneliness and met my mother. Ever since he's been with her and sometime after my birth they performed the Aonaidril. I believe since what happened to his first beloved, he feels somewhat uneasy concerning the eternal bound."
The Saraonaidril was like the 'bond', but unbreakable and thus as the name implied eternal. Once performed, two eldar were bonded for all times, even beyond death. Comparatively few eldar did this, mostly those trapped on their Paths and those who had already lived long lives, which reduced the risk of them estranging over the centuries and millennia. Those who had performed the ritual were considered especially blessed.
Finally Felanwé sat down next to her. "It is somewhat similar with mine; my mother's first Cheritari died centuries ago, actually it must be a millennia by now. They had been bonded by the Aonaidril and she mourned his demise for a long time. It was only by meeting my father that she truly recovered, though she still fondly remembers her late Cheritari."
"And your father is not envious?"
He shrugged and smiled. "Why should he be? They met centuries later and now they are inseparable."
Yaidev closed her eyes and smiled as well. Of course. Such relationships were alien to her; she was only a little over a century old and by the traditions of her clan not even full adult yet. She had never performed the necessary coming-of-age ritual, one of many for which Saim-Hann was known for. So many things left to be done, so many experiences to be had; her journey was truly just beginning.
Unlike during her last visit, the entire clan had gathered in the Stormriders' dome for the Nua-Haras, but the atmosphere was utterly different. There was no apprehension or hidden anger; instead there was a sense of elation that could not escape the young warrior's fine senses. Everywhere groups of eldar were conversing, some quite exuberantly.
After leaving the glider that had brought her from the shrine, Yaidev looked about. The dome, relatively small compared to other structures of the craftworld, was deeply imbedded into the structure around it, like an organ in flesh, but through the top of the dome, she could still see the surrounding spires and greater domes reaching up into the void, looming over them. No one was bothered by this however, as the primary purpose of the Stormriders' dome was to provide a place for gatherings and training. Most of the clan-members lived in the towers surrounding it, or where their chosen Paths needed them to be. Today however the dome almost seemed too small for the hundreds of eldar, who had come for the Nua-Haras.
In the black robes of her shrine Yaidev truly stood out among her brethren, whose clothing was dominated by the red, though most eldar sensed her presence before they saw her. As Yaidev began to walk towards the centre of the dome, the great plaza dominating the structure, the other eldar moved aside, a fair number falling silent when she passed them. The cold aura of Khaine was likely especially unwelcomed during a festivity like this.
For the occasion tables had been set up everywhere throughout the dome, the dishes already distributed, though there were no meals served yet, only various beverages. It was then that she spotted an eldar in sky-blue clothes, his white hair similar to hers only a little more than chin-long. He was approaching her, his expression unreadable, but stern compared to those of the eldar around them. Politely he bowed his head as a greeting once he had reached her, a hand placed upon his heart. "I welcome you, sister. I'm delighted to have found yet another fellow warrior."
"The pleasure is mine, brother." She replied friendly.
"I am Étain of the Plunging Doom." He introduced himself, his attire making it obvious that he was a Swooping Hawk.
"Yaidev of the Singing Scythe."
Étain smiled. "Come, let me introduce you to another sister of ours." Without waiting for an answer he turned around and started to walk towards the centre of the dome, Yaidev following him with no objections. Her fellow Aspect Warriors were likely the only ones, who would be willing to interact with her.
The Swooping Hawk led her to one of the tree-like pillars made of white wraithbone, crimson banners hanging from their branches. Five of them surrounded a podium at the dome's very centre, each covered with runes, blessings and spells meant to protect the new family. At the pillar the two Warriors approached stood a woman in bone-coloured robes, a green belt around her waist, her black hair, which was bound together into a top-knot was shimmering purple when she moved her head.
"Ètain, I was wondering if you would return." She greeted him, though her blue eyes were studying Yaidev. "But I see you've been successful. I'm known as Noreia of the Blades of Woe. You are one of the Dark Reapers?"
Yaidev nodded. "Yes, of the Singing Scythe; I am Yaidev."
The Banshee's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Thalduin's lost daughter returns? I'm surprised to see you here." She admitted, now regarding her with great curiosity, though it reminded more of the curiosity a gyrinx displayed for a rodent.
"I assume the dissent between me and my father is known to some."
"Frankly the entire clan knows about it." Étain told her and Yaidev stiffened; this she had not quite expected.
Noreia nodded and smiled amused. "Indeed; when the chief's daughter challenges him and disappears, people take notice."
With two fingers, Yaidev began to massage her left temple, her eyes closed. "I suppose it did not benefit my reputation."
"Yes and no." The Hawk admitted. "While your open display of your displeasure of the duel's outcome was not well received, your willingness to challenge your father was seen as a good sign in a way."
Her fingers stopped moving and her eyes opened again. "How so?"
"It proved that you are not a coward." Noreia mentioned, almost cheerfully so. "That you have the spirit to become a warrior of the Stormriders."
Yaidev shook her head and chuckled. Well, at least some good had come from it; hadn't even her mother told her to stand up for herself...if perhaps not quite in that manner. Another thought occurred to her. Did her parents even know that she was a Dark Reaper? Surely that had at some point tried to find out what had happened to her and the messenger they had sent to inform her of the Nua-Haras hadn't seemed surprised to find her an Aspect Warrior, so they were not entirely oblivious to her new Path.
Suddenly Étain looked at something that was obviously happening behind her and Yaidev noticed that everyone's attention was being caught by that something there. Yaidev and Noreia turned around, just as the gathered eldar began to cheer.
A lane opened up and for the first time Yaidev saw the merry couple. Celwen and Nuadir were both dressed in clean white robes, the borders embellished with golden embroidery. They walked through the crowd while holding hands, which additionally were wrapped with a crimson ribbon. Runes had been drawn on the bare arms of the mother-to-be, mostly ones associated with protection.
Some eldar were tossing flower pedals, many of the red blossoms now adoring Celwen's blonde and Nuadir's earthy-brown hair. The two were smiling happily as they walked to the podium and ascended the handful of stairs, which were covered by a red carpet and more blossoms. They stopped in front of the two throne-like chairs standing upon the podium, turned around and kneeled down, still holding hands.
Three more eldar emerged from the crowd, those representing the Baharothaíes today, walked up the stairs and immediately Yaidev recognized her father among them. With him were a Farseer and a senior healer with the rune of Isha across his back, the latter holding a steaming bowl in his hands. While Thalduin took his place in front of the couple, the other two stepped to the side, waiting their turn.
When Yaidev's father spoke the entire dome became silent, as he spoke for all of their clan. "Dark are the days in which we live. All the more should we celebrate the moments of light and for this purpose we have all gathered here today." He paused for a moment and spread his arms. "Celwen and Nuadir, you have received the rare blessing of a child. What we can offer you this day are our sincerest felicitations and as your family and clan our everlasting support and protection. May your lives and that of your child be long and prosperous. May you overcome all burdens and your love outlast the centuries." Thalduin lowered his arms and bowed, the couple thanking him, though the audience could not hear their voices.
The clan chief stepped aside and the Farseer took his place, his long, red robes swaying with each step he took, his blond hair falling open over his shoulders. "Our thoughts and blessings are with you this day. Each child is not only a benison for our clan but for all of Saim-Hann. It is hope. May fortune ever favour you and this child. May it wander many Paths and each be fulfilling." He went down on his knee and fastened a wristband around Celwen's arm. Having attended a Nua-Haras before, Yaidev knew that it consisted of several runes, merging with one another.
With his blessings given the Farseer now stepped aside as well after they had thank him, offering room for the third eldar. The healer immediately kneeled down and handed Celwen the bowl, which she took with her free hand. As she drank, he got back on his feet and spoke. "May Isha bless this new life. May it know love and wonder, may it receive comfort in pain and joy in peace. I wish you happiness and the strength to overcome all challenges as parents. I wish you good fortune from this day to the end of your days."
Celwen had finished the tea the healer had given her and handed him the bowl back. He took it and bowed, before he descended down the stairs with the Farseer and Thalduin. Yaidev's father turned his head to look across the crowd, finally spotting her. He met her gaze and for a second she could see surprise in his eyes, but it was swiftly replaced by another emotion. Was it relief? Delight even?
He disappeared from sight, when he took his place at a table close by the foot of the stairs, but Yaidev could not deny that she felt somewhat eased.
Nuadir and Celwen now rose from their kneeling position, looking just as happy as upon their arrival. "We thank you all for attending to our Nua-Haras." The father-to-be began, bowing his head along with his beloved to convey his gratitude. "We thank you for the blessings you all have given us, today and the days before. Hopefully we all shall gather here again upon our child's birth, to celebrate anew and welcome our son or daughter."
Now Celwen took over for him. "And today sing and be merry; for this is a rare occasion and shall be celebrated as such. Today Isha has blessed us all."
The crowd cheered again, the last of the blossoms were tossed into the air, as Nuadir and Celwen finally took their seats. The other eldar followed their example, sitting down at the numerous tables throughout the dome and somewhere the musicians began to perform, their music dominated by flutes and bowed instruments. The three Aspect Warriors took their seats next to each other, the other eldar keeping some space between them and the disciples of Khaine.
Meals were being served to all and soon the tables were laid with spiced meat, fruits, vegetables and bread. Yaidev ate with restraint, yet not because of the quality of the food, for everything was truly flavoursome. No, she just could not help but feel out of place. Noreia and Étain's presence was welcomed, but the merriment was so opposite to her war, or at least conflict-focused lifestyle that it was almost uncomfortable. Like other eldar could feel the touch of Khaine upon her, the prominence of the dark aspect of her nature, she felt the lack of it with them. She felt apart.
Over the course of the next two hours, Yaidev discussed with her fellow Aspect Warriors their individual training. Quickly the young Reaper noticed that their daily routines hardly differed from one another, a similar mix of practice and meditation, other than the focus of the training. Instead of learning to handle the Reaper Launchers, the Swooping Hawks spent much time practising their control of the specialised jet packs they used, while the Banshees constantly improved their agility and skill with the blade.
At some point Yaidev saw several Stormriders preparing themselves for combat, putting on light armour and choosing melee weapons. Duels were among the many traditions performed during almost any celebration. Thankfully, other than the honour-duels, these were mostly show only, including many elaborate moves no combatant would do in a real fight, as they took too much time or left one near defenceless for a moment. She'd always loved these, even as a child.
And they were only the next event of the day. Later in the evening, following the duels, the parents would plant a tree in the Stormriders' own garden in the neighbouring dome; it was said that each eldar born into the clan had a tree representing him or herself in that garden. Banners, ribbons and such were attached to the branches of those trees, runes sometimes carved into the wood, as an account of an eldar's life. Once Yaidev had seen the tree of her father and the dozens of banners proclaiming the wars he had fought in, the battles in which he had led the clan to victory.
Yaidev wasn't sure if other clans had the same or similar traditions, as despite many shared customs, the details varied between the kindreds.
The riders chosen to perform today began to gather around the open space left close to the centre and the podium. The music grew quieter and the eldar began to turn their attentions towards the performers.
"This should be amusing." Noreia noted, leaning slightly forward for a better view.
Yaidev smiled and now fully turned around on the cushion she was sitting on, silently agreeing with the Banshee.
The flutes and bowed instruments stopped playing and two men stepped into the open space, one holding a lance and wearing a long, black cloak, the other carrying a sword with a curved blade. Both were wearing their guardian armour, though instead of helmets, they wore white masks with stylized expressions, the swordsman's mask showing a taunting grin, the other's one of grim determination.
After they had bowed to the Nuadir and Celwen, the drums began like the heartbeat of a great beast awakening, adding to the atmosphere. Yaidev found it…enticing. Both warriors took their fighting stance. The drums quickened their pace. The grim warrior made his move.
The lance came forth like a striking snake, but the swordsman ducked, the blade passing just over his head. Swiftly he leaped forth while the polearm was still in motion, trying to bring his sword down from above his own head, now guiding it with both hands.
The other eldar quickly pulled back his weapon, managing just in time to block the blade with the staff, holding it horizontally like a barrier. Using his staff the grim warrior pushed up his opponent's weapon and arms, opening up the swordsman's defences. The following kick hit the taunting warrior in the gut and pushed him backwards.
The lance came after him in an arch, just as the swordsman rose from his crouching position and with a somersault leaped over the blade. He landed back on his feet, his opponent bringing his weapon around once more, so he retreated further by performing a few front handsprings.
The swordsman deflected a following stab with his own blade and kept it between himself and the staff as he moved towards the grim warrior, who stepped aside and brought his weapon around, the flat side of the lance's blade hitting the other's back.
With another somersault, this time on the ground, the swordsman got away again. He quickly was back on his feet, but when he turned around, the lance hit his weapon with such force that the sword flew out of the taunting warrior's hand. It also caused the grim warrior to whirl around once, his cloak once again billowing elegantly.
The swordsman used this to launch himself at his opponent, taking hold of the staff now as well, his hands between those of the other rider. The grim warrior reacted immediately, turned around, moving the lance over his head. This lifted the taunting one from his feet, throwing him over the other's shoulder. He landed on the ground on his back, in front of the grim warrior's feet. The lance came down, stopping only as it touched the swordsman's chest.
The drums stopped and the eldar cheered, applauding their performance. Both warriors rose, bowing now to the audience, before the swordsman retrieved his weapon and they disappeared back into crowd.
The three Aspect Warriors applauded as well; it had been delightful, even if it hadn't been a true fight. Yaidev knew that there would be more duels with different riders and weapons before they all would return to dance, sing and enjoy the feast. Sadly the time she had been permitted to stay was limited. "I fear I must already depart again; my Exarch does not approve of distraction such as this."
"Most do not; we ourselves will soon take our leave as well." The Hawk explained, placing his chalice back on the table and turned to her. "Best of fortune to you, young sister."
Yaidev smiled. "And to you Étain." She gave him a respectful nod, which he returned, another to the Banshee, Yaidev's right hand upon her heart. "Noreia."
The female eldar bowed her head now as well. "May your aim be true, Yaidev."
The young Reaper rose from her seat and headed straight for one of the dome's exits, searching her way through the crowd, the other eldar continuing to avoid her automatically, most focused on the next duel, which had just begun. Close to the exit the crowd grew sparser, but she spotted a curious figure standing at one of the many trees. Her robes were of a grey-blue, covered with numerous white runes, a red spirit stone glowing dimly on her chest.
As Yaidev was about to pass by, the stranger spoke, still watching the ongoing fight. "You leave the festivities early; do the duels bore you?" Only now did she turn to look at the Aspect Warrior. "Yaidev, is it?" She asked, her voice sounding friendly.
Yaidev frowned. "Actually it is spoken 'Djai-deaf'" She corrected the woman politely, if somewhat coolly as well. "The Saim-Hannian dialect, you understand."
"A little harsher than my native Iybraesilii, I must admit. I am Farseer Illanweh." The Seer introduced herself. "I was told that you are Thalduin's daughter."
"I am." Yaidev replied and bowed her head briefly. "It is rare that a Farseer of another Craftworld comes to visit our halls. May I asked why you have come to Saim-Hann?"
Illanweh sighed. "You will learn soon enough I suspect, young warrior, but our Craftworlds are discussing an alliance for a coming battle. Steel your mind; Kaela Mensha Khaine might soon wake from his slumber again."
"What enemy poses such a threat that it bring us together?"
"Your Exarch will tell you, should Saim-Hann help us."
Briefly Yaidev's eyes narrows a little, once again raising an eyebrow. Farseers rarely shared their knowledge generously; it almost seemed as if they truly relish the air of mystery that surrounded them. While slightly vexed, Yaidev decided not to dig deeper. "Saim-Hann is not a craftworld that shies away from battle."
Illanweh nodded. "Not always a virtue." She noted sombrely, once again watching the duel.
In the moments of silence between them that followed, Yaidev regarded the Farseer more closely. She was obviously not entire comfortable, she even seemed to dislike what she was seeing here today. "Why are you attending my clan's celebration?" The young Reaper finally asked.
"I was invited by a Farseer of your clan to watch." Illanweh simply stated.
"Is the Nua-Haras not celebrated on Iybraesil?"
The Iybraesili Farseer chuckled with a touch of amusement. "Oh it is, but on a much smaller circle. Our families tend to be not as large as Wild Rider clans." Her expression grew stern again and her eyes narrowed as she met Yaidev's gaze. "And we do not celebrate by fighting one another."
Now it was the Reaper's turn to chuckle. "It is more show than fight, tis harmless entertainment. On this day of joy, no one is to be dishonoured by defeat, so much of it is staged." She looked back to her clan and smiled. "Keep watching, honoured Farseer; you might learn something about us."
Illanweh seemed surprised by her words, but Yaidev departed before she could speak again. Honestly, her words had even surprised herself.
Cadaith gathered his students merely a cycle later, following the morning meditation. They all knew what this meant, they all had felt the Avatar of Kaela Mensha Khaine stirring last night. Saim-Hann was preparing for war. Yaidev remembered the words of Farseer Illanweh; apparently the craftworlds would soon fight alongside each other. She still wondered what enemy had motivated this alliance and something told her that it were not the orkead.
Their Exarch showed none of the excitement his students felt in anticipation of battle, though Yaidev had to admit that she felt it felt less than the previous times. "I trust you all are aware of the Avatar's awakening." He began calmly. "Saim-Hann will once more go to war, this time alongside our siblings of the craftworld Iybraesil. This alliance was forged in response to certain developments on a human controlled world not far from our craftworld. It has been invaded by the servants of the Ruinous Powers assisted by a warband, which calls itself 'Company of Misery', yet the war still rages between them and the Imperials."
Humans. Yaidev had wondered when she would encounter them, though she assumed that this time they would not be fighting the servants of the dead Emperor. This would be more interesting than orks.
"The Cresistauead are incapable of defeating their own twisted brethren?" Maldorhan asked, his arms folded in front of his chest, frowning disapprovingly.
Cadaith still showed no emotion but nodded once. "Indeed; what reinforcement they'll receive will come too late. The Seers are certain that the foul sorcerers of the Company are preparing a ritual for summoning a great daemon lord, which would not only result in their victory over the Imperials, but also mark the beginning of a crusade and a long lasting conflict between the eldar and the Mon'Keigh. This cannot be allowed." He opened his left hand, a gem in the palm of his hand. With his thumb he stroke it once, causing it to lit up and a sky-blue hologram appeared, showing a city along a river as well as the surrounding landscape. A rune shimmered in the mountains. "Fortunately there is webway-portal on the world the humans call Avenio. Both warhosts will use it for deployment, while a small force stays behind to protect it."
The corner of Ilthaldir's mouth twitched. "Are we honoured with this task?" It was obvious that he was not too delighted about that particular prospect.
"Worry not, Ilthaldir." Cadaith reassured him. "The host will split and while Iybraesil strikes from the west, Saim-Hann shall assault from the east before dawn. Striking Scorpions, Warp Spiders and Rangers will take out turrets along with initial defences and open up a path, allowing the clans and our other vehicles to enter. We ourselves are going to be deployed by a Falcon." With a finger he moved along the image, through the forest and into the city, drawing a white line. "The host will cut through the city straight to the central plaza to disrupt the ritual and remove our enemy's head." His fingers spread apart and the hologram changed, now showing a great plaza at the centre of the city. A rune hovered over one of the rectangular buildings surrounding it. "Our assigned position is this roof, overlooking the entire plaza. Once the sorcerers are slain, if possible their Chaos Lord as well and the ritual is stopped, our forces will depart again, leaving the rest of the Mon'Keigh to the Imperial Cresistauead."
Maldorahn studied the hologram thoughtfully, stroking his chin with a few fingers. "Will it be enough?" He finally asked.
"Without sorcerers only a few cultists may be able to sustain minor rift, allowing them to receive further reinforcements, but that cannot be compared to what without our intervention would be summoned from the warp. It will buy the time necessary for the humans to gather their forces and reclaim their world."
Daemons. Yaidev had never encountered one, only heard and read stories about those creatures and she felt a touch of fear sneak into her heart. Many wanted more than to kill the eldar; they wanted their very essence. Like all eldar she knew what happened to them if their souls were not secured by a spirit stone. To be devoured. To be tortured. She-Who-Thirsts…
Felanwé nodded, his words tearing her from her thoughts. "When will we leave for the webway?"
"Very soon." Their Exarch promised them, for the first time looking somewhat pleased. "Retrieve your armour; if there are no further questions, we shall begin with the donning immediately."
Eldar Language:
There has been a bit more vocabulary in this chapter. As mentioned in the previous one, I've taken most from an existing list of known vocabulary, but I've found it lacking in the end. Therefor I've invented new words, based either on existing ones or on the Gaelic languages, seeing as the existing language is partially inspired by it already. Besides the eldar are very much based on the works of the British author J.R. .
Inspiration for the eldar as a whole is drawn from Celtic cultures as well. We have Banshees, the god Kurnous inspired by the Celtic god Cernunnos, Saim-Hann's name is based on the Celtic holiday Samhain, runes and so on. If you look at the name Macha, the Biel-Tan Farseer, it's taken from the ancient Irish goddess Macha and several other women in Irish mythology with that name.
Baharothaís=(female)Storm/Wind(based on the Eldar) Rider(based on the Gaelic)
Baharothaíes= Stormriders
Cheritari= (a male) beloved; Cheritaris= (a female) beloved (based on the eldar word Cherital=love)
Nua-Haras=New(Gaelic) Blood(Eldar)
Cresistauead=Human(Eldar)
Mon'Keigh=those who must be eliminated: can apply to any alien species, but they love to use it for humans as we've taken their place as dominant species in the galaxy.
Aonaidril=the Bond(based on the Gaelic for bond)
Saraonaidril=the eternal Bond(based on the High Elven(Warhammer Fantasy) for eternity and the Gaelic for bond)