AN: A repeat of the last chapter, but with the assumption that the audience knows what the Primarchs really are. I wrote this first before realizing the story would be more interesting if it had a twist.

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Once upon a time-

(Are we really doing this? Are you really trying to fit your life into a narrative like neat little boxes?)

ONCE UPON A TIME. There was a golden king, who had many lands and many subjects. He was the strongest being in the world, and none could stand against him for long. His power was infinite.

He was cold.

One day, he decided he wanted more. He wanted someone- several someone's- to help him rule. Someone who could stand near him without being overcome by his power. But not someone who could overcome him. He wanted children.

But there was a price to his strength, and that was that every woman he lay with died or came near death. But the king was so cold, he never knew any of his lovers lived past their night with him. He knew naught of his natural children, and thought the only way for him to have children was to create them on his own.

And it was here that the king searched the lands, questioned all his wise men and sorcerers, and studied the universe itself. He looked into the void, and in time, the void looked back.

Four beings noticed him. All but one older than the King, all stronger than him, and all infinitely more dangerous. Though the four hated each other they were curious enough to put aside their differences for one day, just long enough to meet with the King.

"What do you want?" The beings said.

"Children of my own. Beings such as I, but without my years of experience and open to my teachings." The King said.

"In that case, I have a proposition." Said the first being. It reached out and up, between worlds, and it grasped a bird's egg, one that had never been lain by any parent.

"Take this," the creature said, "and within a year it will hatch into a babe you may teach to follow in your footsteps."

The being did not tell the King that this child would also stray from any path the King lain, and forget the King's teachings by spite alone.

It did not matter. The king was wise, and he knew these things to be true.

"No, take my flower bud," the second creature said. "It will bloom and release a babe who will bring joy and wonder to your life."

The second being did not tell the king that the child would forsake any who did not contribute to this wondrous life of theirs, and would turn against those who did if they thought they could do better.

It did not matter. The king was wise, and he knew these things to be true.

"Take this," the third creature said. It held forth a cauldron with a simmering liquid inside. "Take it, and within a year a babe will emerge to love you and be loved by you."

The being did not say that the child would never forget any break the king's love held, and would turn bitter for the ills of the past.

It did not matter. The king was wise, and he knew these things to be true.

"Accept my gift," the fourth creature said as it held out a bronze urn, "and within a year the top will break open and a child will emerge, strong enough to weather any trouble you should face."

This being did not lie, for unlike the others, it had honor.

It did not matter. The king was wise, and he knew any child from the bronze urn would grow stronger than he, and become too wild to be controlled.

The king looked at these gifts and said, "You have all described to me wonderful children, so much that I cannot pick one. Might I be allowed to inspect each of them and ask questions, so as to find the one gift most precious?"

"Go ahead," the beings said. For in truth, each had come to compete with the others. The kings approval was not the reward they sought, but having his approval over the other three was. The king knew this, and knew he could use it.

To the first being the King said, "This gift is grand, but I need to know. Will the child love me so?"

Before the first being began to speak, the third one interrupted. "No!" It cried. "That child will not. It will follow your footsteps only so long no other path distracts it."

"No!" Said the fourth being. "It won't prove itself!"

"No!" Said the second. "It will not laugh to light your life!"

To the second being, the King now turned. "This gift is sweet, but I must be careful. Will the child take up my mantel?"

"No!" Said the fourth being. "It will not have the strength to rule as you do."

"No!" Said the third being. "It will care nothing for the ways of its elders."

"No!" Said the first being. "It will not heed your wisdom."

To the third being, the King now asked. "This gift is kind, but I hesitate. Will the child, my life elate?"

(That's a terrible excuse for a rhyme.)

"No!" Said the first being. "It will not enlighten your life."

"No!" Said the second being. "It will not care for the beauty around it."

"No!" Said the fourth being. "It will falter and collapse under pressure."

To the fourth being, the King now spoke. "This gift is sound, but I am no fool. Will the child improve my rule?"

"No!" Said the second being. "It will not sharpen your skills."

"No!" Said the first being. "It will not show you what you do not already know."

"No!" Said the third being. "It will uproot any stability your life now has."

"Well then." The King said. "Of each gift I have one reason to take it, and three reasons not to. Which then, should I pick?"

"Take mine!" The four beings cried at once. "For mine is-"

But their words could not be heard over the others, each professing why their gift was the best and the others the worst. To the King in his wisdom, it was clear each entity was truly arguing over which of them was superior. The one thing that could undo creatures such as these.

As the beings argued and fought, the king seized his chance. While none were looking, the king grabbed each of the gifts and swallowed them whole.

The four being stopped fighting, turning in horror and shock at the king.

"All of you had good points," said the king, "both about the benefits of your gifts and the downfalls of the others. So I decided to take them all and see what comes from it."

After all, there had been no rule stating the king could only have one child. Nor was there a rule saying he had to accept the gifts as they were given.

With the egg, flower, pot, and urn within the king himself, he could sift through their contents and pick out pieces he didn't like. The king had been wise, to know better than to let these beings take sole control over the creation of his progeny.

Four beings watched in amazement, but one hid a smile. For it had foreseen the king's plan, and knew this would come to pass.

Unbeknownst to all five of them, another being was watching from beyond the reaches of space and time. This being looked into the meeting between King and God with jealously, for it could not attend. It could not give the king a gift of a child, but it could touch the gifts already given.

This being reached into the swirling mess inside of the king, and as the king returned to his home and searched for a way to bring his offspring into this world, the being stirred and multiplied the gifts. Instead of four children, one from each gift, the king would have twenty babes, five for each swallowed offering. Five pieces of the mixed essence of the king and a god.

The others did not know this. The King returned to his kingdom and for a while turned to his other goals, ruling his kingdom and serving his people. But all the while he molded the gifts from inside of him. He changed the children they would have become and designed himself what the children he intended to become his heirs would grow to be.

The years passed, and the king finished working on the gifts. They were now newborn souls, powerful and strong from his own power, and they were as he was. The king had twenty bodies made for each child, as the only way he could birth the children was to put the souls into these bodies.

Only now did the four beings return. They snuck past the king's men and crept into the nursery while the king slept. Our children, They said, Should be raised by their parents. They should be raised by our hands.

They stole the babes in the night.

By all rights the children should've been raised by the beings. Perhaps the beings wanted to keep the children, perhaps they intended to give them to their servants to be raised out of infancy and brought up in the beings' light. No one knows why they did not.

But it is known that the beings scattered the children across the galaxy, letting foster parents raise the babes.

One of these children was a ps-

...Was a witch. Through his own natural power he could weave worlds out of words and hear whispers in the moonlight.

He was left with a coven of good witches who sought to better their lives and the lives of others with their gifts.

They took the babe in, and gave him to one of their best teachers in the ways of magic. A man with no lover nor desire for one, but who was glad to have a child to raise.

(That was important, wasn't it?)

…

(Why?)

The babe was beautiful, as all the King's children were. As he grew into a boy, many saw beauty in the form of a child and assumed weakness. Those who would pursue… selfish goals at the detriment of a child had always been identified before they could act, thanks to the magic of the witches.

While this boy grew, the number of people arrested for this reason tripled.

Some did not care and saw the boy as naught but a boy, strength and beauty aside. Some were envious. Some fought the violence the boy invoked in them, out of a sense of morality. Some hid their hunger, because they knew they would be caught before they got what they sought. And some looked upon him with pity, because they knew the boy could perceive these things around him.

(So even when the city accepted him, the boy was alone.)

It- he wasn't the only one. The other children of the King were also as beautiful as they were strong, at least at birth. Barring the one who grew where no men walk, each of them had to slay at least one monster when they were young enough to be thought weak.

(Mmm, you know, that's not true. I can think of one who couldn't 'slay his monster,' as you put it.)

Regardless, the boy grew. He outstripped his teachers, mentors, idols, all in quick succession. Soon the boy became-
…

(What did he become?)

…

Soon the boy was strong enough to become independent, and to lead in his own right. He wondered what was out there, beyond the coven's home, and he set off to see the world. He faced challenges and trials that the coven protected him from, now strong enough to survive the world.

He explored, he discovered the world was filled with beauty and pain, and he discovered his own powers were stronger than he'd ever dreamed.

He brought these things back to his people, and soon after a swarm of death came in. He stopped the swarm, and saved them.

When the swarm attacked, the boy reached within himself and discovered that the sea of magic could be moved. He became the moon that created the tides.

Or so he thought. He was- he was brash, foolish, and he didn't understand what he was doing, but thought he knew all. He didn't understand that the power he'd tapped was a gift from his parent. It didn't belong to him.

The only good thing that came from this transformation was the attention of the King, but even that was tainted. Both of the boy's parents had observed his transformation. The being merely waited and schemed while the King approached their son outright.

The King's lands had grown from conquests and wars waged at his command. The King never forgot his lost sons, and he searched for them with every newly conquered land. In time, he found each and every one of his children.

But he was afraid that their other parents would still seek their children, and he did not want them to be found. He feared his children would come to love the beings he had deceived all those years ago if they knew them as their parents. And so he lied to them. The King told his children that he was their only parent. He told them that there was no higher power than man.

When he found his son-turned-moon, it was no different. The Emperor came to the lands where the coven had settled, bringing prosperity and gifts beyond measure. He named his child a Prince of his empire, and brought him into his fold.

But of the moon and the sea, all he told the Prince was: "Do not pull the tides, for this power is greater than you can imagine. It is beyond your ability to understand, or to control."

He didn't say, "The water itself of the Ocean loves you dearly, but it cannot understand altruism. It will pull you in and drag you under because it wants to keep you more than it wants your happiness."

The prince listened, and thought his father foolish for this. The King had not told him that as a moon, he shone light farther than he could see. That there was a greater creature than he that wanted him just as badly as the Emperor did.

It was ironic. As a child, he learned that beauty attracts monsters, even from places where no monsters could be found. But he never realized that the same is true of power.

No.

He knew that power invites monsters. He'd never realized that there were monsters stronger than him. Everything he met was either a friend or prey.

So the Prince ignored his father's warnings and continued as he always had.

Then one day

…

(This part hurts, doesn't it?)

One day something went wrong. The Prince learned of a threat that could destroy everything he loved, but he was too far to fight it. He tried to warn the Emperor, but he arrived to find the kingdom in shambles.

He realized that the destruction had come from within. In trying to save his father, the Prince had destroyed him.

He returned home, horrified and confused. He didn't know what had gone wrong, didn't know where he'd failed.

He looked through his life, through his spellwork and sorcery, his old explorations and experiments, and slowly he started to put the pieces together. With growing horror, grief and disgust he realized that the trap had been lain for him years ago.

Innocent actions he thought too small for care, sacrifices that had not seemed in vain, deals that had always been honored- all were built on lies. The prince had destroyed himself before he even began to fight. Recalling his father's warnings, realizing their truth, the Prince decided to accept his fate.

Then he decided that his fate and that of his home were one.

He told himself that his people would protest if he was arrested- executed, even- and that the only way to limit bloodshed was to surrender. That he alone would take punishment for his crimes.

But even then, he wasn't alone. Armies who obeyed his command, the witches whose ancestors had raised him, all were there. He didn't warn the people or evacuate the planet. He didn't make his legion vow not to take revenge. He just waited where he was, deciding the fate of those who followed him- who trusted him.

He didn't realize how selfish and egotistical he was being, not then. The sounds of destruction and chaos wore down his will until he finally, finally decided to fight for his home. To protect his world.

It was too late. The land burned, and the Prince was broken.

Unable to save his people, unable to fix his mistakes, unable to even accept that he'd been a fool, he turned back to his magic. He stepped into the Ocean, where the first entity waited for him.

"You seem to be in trouble." The entity said. "What is wrong, child? Did my advice lead you astray? Did my gift not help?"

"I am lost." Said the Prince. "Betrayed by the one who I betrayed first."

"Indeed." Said the being. "And you come here in the midst of battle."

"I need your help." Said the Prince. "Please, save my people. They only burn because of me, but I cannot bear to hear them cry any more."

"This I could do." It said. "But there will be a price."

"Please." The Prince said. "Whatever you ask, I will give it, for I know now I have already-"

"You? No." The creature laughed. "For all I and my servants have done for you, we have never asked anything because we never needed it. You are not in my debt, I have given all freely to you as a gift."

This confused the Prince, even with disaster at his door he couldn't help but ask, "Then why?"

"The debt I want repaid is not yours, but your father's." It said. "Years ago, I and three others asked him to judge a competition between us. We each provided a gift, and the one he chose to take home would win.

"But your father tricked us. He set us arguing against each other, and while we fought, he swallowed each of our gifts. We were to trade with him, a gift in return for being named superior to the others, but none of us got this victory from him.

"He cheated us, and I want my egg back. But alas, those gifts cannot simply be returned anymore. Slaanesh's flower bloomed. Nurgle's potion condensed. Khorne's urn broke. And my egg hatched."

"Your father took the children we'd made, and re-created them in his own image."

And the Prince realized that he'd been trapped from the start.

"Yes." Tzeentch said. "I want my egg back, but the Anathema contaminated it. Hid it from me until it hatched. Now of my five sons, I only ask that one of them be returned. He can keep the other four, I just want one to claim as my own."

I was speechless. What could I say, what could I do, when everything I'd ever known turned into a lie?

But then, for the first time in my long list of stupid decisions, I remembered Prospero. I remembered the Rout. I remembered all the innocent who burned because of my mistakes.

I remembered Russ.

I took Tzeentch's claw and said, "I will do it, father."

The changer of ways had no mouth at that time, but it smiled at me. "I'm glad, my son."