At 10:00PM, on November 17th, 2011, I posted the first chapter to Suffer not the Xenos to Live onto this website. My faithful, beloved readers, it has been one year since then. I would like to personally thank WolfPaladin, lazylegionspark, and Imperial warlord, who have been with me from the very beginning, Wolf and Lazy literally from Day 1. I have no idea when I'm going to end this, but don't expect it to be anytime soon. Here's to another year of Suffer not the Xenos to Live!
So, it's been nearly a month-and-a-half since I last updated, and I don't want to seem overapologetic. I don't want to make excuses, either, but I have said before what's needed to be said. My life is quite full now, but I certainly have not forgotten about this.
Aaaanyway I decided to combine chapter's 21 and 22, I hope you don't mind. 22 begins right after the line break about halfway down. It'll seem like filler, I know, but there is some character development in there. Next chapter will either be the boys in the guard, or Aureleth and Andron finally getting some time to talk together (thanks to Eruwen conveniently passing out :P ) So, here's 21/22, and I hope you enjoy it. Next chapter will come up whenever. Who knows what awaits our 3 wanderers as they approach an Eldar city? War? Death? Happiness? Sexytimes? I don't know. Why? I haven't planned that far yet (piss off ;) )
Andron was trying not to lose his composure in his frantic contemplation of what had happened in the preceding hour. Right in front of Aureleth, he had killed one of her kind. Right in front of Eruwen, he had shot the warrior numerous times. Each life he took weighed on him heavily, though he felt that the single warrior he had slain would have a significance in his life more powerful than any other. He angled his eyes down to look into the relaxed mask of Eruwen's unconscious form. He pitied her so horribly. He looked up to Aureleth again, her footsteps echoing throughout the halls. She maintained her pace, passively trying to avoid him as if she herself did not even know what she was doing. He wanted to call out to her, to ask her what was wrong, but there were in fact more important issues at hand. They would have to wait.
"You have a duty." Aureleth suddenly found herself standing in blackness. She did not panic, however. It was a familiar world. She took several steps in a direction that beckoned her, and in the distance the galaxy of feelings, memories, and thoughts that constituted her as a being manifested itself. It glowed enough so that its brilliance and beauty was something to behold, yet it was soft enough to not be painful to her eyes. She approached it, intrigued by where she so suddenly found herself. As she approached the edge, the stars separated, singing on the edge of her hearing in ethereal chimes. She continued towards the core, and towards what she held most precious to her. Even amid the intense light which was approaching the point of being uncomfortable from so close up, one star shined more brightly than all of the others. It had been dim and neglected for nearly two centuries, but a single human had changed that forever. She reached out and cradled it in her hands, its warmth bringing her immense comfort. She stood smiling for a moment before returning it to its place.
Aureleth still felt that she had not fulfilled her purpose in going on the journey into herself, and so continued to search. She walked around the core, examining it carefully. She passed familiar stars, and constellations that comprised important facets of her being. They seemed different, however, and she returned to them. Duty, discipline, and the parts of her that had made her a warrior were all located in a single constellation of being. The chain was broken, however, with one critical piece missing. That one piece that had maintained its stability had disappeared, and in its place was darkness. It was a small spot, smaller than her palm amongst the tens of thousands of other stars and shining orbs that made her. From it, however, grew wispy tendrils of the same blackness that had crept outwards from its origin. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of it.
She was snapped back to reality by the sound of footsteps. That would not have been an issue, however Andron had stopped walking shortly before she did. The sounds continued to echo ominously through the halls. Immediately, she began to search for a place to hide. There were several small passageways that led off in other directions, and from the way the sound was coming, retreating into one of them would conceal them from whoever was approaching. She slinked into the cover of darkness down the nearly black path, followed by Andron, the unconscious girl still in his arms. Andron positioned himself behind her, farther away from the main hall down which they had been travelling. After several moments, they heard the distinct sound of human voices.
Immediately, Aureleth's hands darted to her weapons, and she felt that same hatred well up in her again. It was still not anything that would consume her, but it was by no means unnoticeable. A part of her began to strain against its mental and moral chains, and her hands unconsciously squeezed and relaxed their grips in rhythmic cycles as she silently dealt with her slowly awakening inner demon. It stirred, beckoning her to leap out at them and to slay them with every bit of hatred she could muster. She fought it, however, maintaining her composure in the delicate situation in which they found themselves. She could not lose herself, for it would mean the death of all of them. She also could not even begin to predict what exactly the consequences would be for her, spiritually and emotionally. She had never been faced with such a challenge before, one that required her to carefully monitor and control a core part of her being that had been made unstable. If it collapsed, she could be capable of anything, and would have no control over it. Such was the nature of her people. Even if she would rather die than commit some of the acts that could result from her loss of self, there would be nothing stopping her from doing so. Aureleth knew that she would have to come to understand what she was feeling, and what power it held in order to ensure that she would not hurt anyone close to her. She remained where she was, teeth clenched, hands tightly clasped around her weapons, and silent as death itself. She turned to look back at Andron, who was still holding Eruwen's light, unconscious form. They were concealed enough so that unless one of the passing guardsmen shined a flashlight directly at them, they would not be seen.
"Hey, Rin." The man's voice echoed down the hallways.
The man, Rin, simply grunted his response.
"Any word on Thunderhead?"
"It's a total clusterbang. We have a foothold, but the place is crawling with the bastards. It's mostly patrols against patrols while we try to set up more permanent bases from what I've heard. Why?"
"Just kinda wishing we were in the thick of it up there. Sounds like fun. Besides I haven't even seen a rat around,"
"Well, Dorn, we're here. Besides, if they're using this place as a checkpoint for transporting supplies, we need to deal with it. No sense letting them throw more and more at us when we can just cut it off at the source… or at least closer to the source. And why in the Warp would there be rats here?"
"It was a joke, and Rin that almost sounded like a solid plan. Are you sure command told us to do this?"
"Shut up."
"I could probably throw all of my frag grenades right now and nobody would hear but us."
"You don't know that, Dorn. We don't know how many they have here. I mean this is an entire frigging world after all. I think it's a bad idea that they split us up. We're fragged if these guys show up…"
"Here's to hoping for more rats," Dorn replied, the nervous edge pushing its way into the threshold of being noticeable.
"The rendezvous point is up ahead. We'll take the next left."
Without any more conversation from the two passersby, they made their way towards their destination, unaware that the encounter that could end their lives was mere yards away.
They entered Aureleth's field of vision, no longer obscured by the walls on either side of the branching hallway in which they hid, though she had heard them coming long before. The one in the front appeared to be again of Andron's age. He, too, had a thin layer of stubble on his face, though it was patchy in distribution. A smattering of tiny scars, marks, and nicks covered what exposed skin on his face there was, giving him an almost feral and abused appearance. The man behind him was similar in complexion. They had both seen combat, and had had little to no time to maintain themselves. They were deep within the grips of war, it having already taken much toll on them physically. She noted that there was not much variation in age among guardsmen when compared to the vast difference in seniority that was found in Eldar forces. She almost felt something bordering on sympathy for the young men. They had been tossed by their superiors into war, and furthermore into uncharted territory where death lay around every corner. Those thoughts were quickly forced out of her mind by the recent memory of what else she had witnessed. Her hands twitched, reflections of her inner desires. She questioned whether they were something she should, or even could think of as desires. She would not let it control her, however, and remained where she was, even if it was difficult to do so.
Andron, with Eruwen still in his arms, watched as the two humans walked by. He found it strange how he regarded them so differently after the events of the preceding week. He no longer saw them as like him, or at least not in the same sense he once did. He did not feel as much of the attachment that had once bound him to them. As they drew closer, and came fully within the cone of visibility allowed by the narrow branching corridor in which they hid, he heard every bit of their movement. The faint sounds of the metal buckles on their vests tinkling against the gunmetal of their lasrifles and their sweat-logged feet shifting within their boots as they stepped suddenly grew louder as the sounds were funneled towards them louder. From the two breaths the men took, to the swiping sound of their leggings rubbing against themselves, he could hear everything. All else was deathly silent save for the two intruders within that silence. They were utterly fixated upon by his mind. He held his breath as they walked by, not daring to move even his diaphragm. A painful few seconds passed during which time all that was between them was darkness before the guardsmen were again out of their field of vision.
For reasons that Andron would never be able to comprehend, the man in the rear turned and looked directly at him. Through a blanket of near absolute darkness, Andron felt their eyes connect. The only moving muscle he had left seemed to seize in his chest as he prayed to whoever would listen that he was the only one who knew he was staring into someone's eyes. He absorbed every detail of the soldier's dimly lit face, the information being seared into his memory unwarranted, likely because he thought he was going to have to kill the man. His hazel eyes, set recessed under a pronounced brow, dimly reflected what light there was in the hallways. He, like Andron, had all of the ailments of an infantryman, from his worn appearance to his tired gait still making itself known through his otherwise standard stance. The soldier's brow furrowed ever so slightly as he subconsciously registered a presence, that he was in fact being watched. The realization was lost amongst other thoughts, however, and merely faded into oblivion as he turned forward once again as he continued to walk. The sounds of their footsteps faded, and the three waited for several minutes until there was not a sound left save for their own constrained breathing.
"He looked right at me," Andron barely whispered before sighing away the near state of panic that had been building up in his chest.
Aureleth, who had been leaning around the corner watching them, simply looking into the direction they had gone long after they'd disappeared, peered over her shoulder at him.
"What do you mean?" They had been utterly hidden. There was no way he could have seen them, which was evidenced by nothing having happened.
"I mean he stared right into my eyes. I don't even know what happened, but he looked right at me and kept walking. Emperor's blood…"
Aureleth only nodded in response, obviously distracted by other thoughts as was indicated by her pensive frown. "Come, it is only a few minutes away." She entered the larger hallway once again, and beckoned for him to follow.
Andron hefted Eruwen once more, shifting her back into a more stable position in his embrace. Her legs dangled over his arm, while her head lay against his opposite shoulder. Ahead of them, the hall opened into a hub in which several sleek, elegant looking vehicles were stored. He found it interesting that public transportation was piloted by the individual and not, say, someone paid to do so as it were in the Imperium. Aureleth strode across the massive expanse of the area, their footsteps echoing endlessly throughout. Directly across from where they had entered was another hallway, almost two hundred yards away. In directions roughly perpendicular to them were tunnels that ran off into absolute blackness. He assumed that they would be taking one of them, and hoped that they would have a source of light as it seemed that those in the tunnels themselves were no longer functioning.
Aureleth inspected a speeder, one of many neatly aligned in rows, suspended several inches off of the floor by grav stabilizers mounted into the floor that allowed it to fully deactivate without coming into contact with the ground when its own disengaged. A soft blue light emanated from each of the stabilizers, and as she approached the light grew in intensity as those on the craft itself engaged. A soft hum reverberated throughout the hub, and the craft rose another inch off of the ground before the stabilizers in the floor went dark.
"Come, we need to hurry." Her voice was saturated with suppressed stress and confusion, and she could only hope that Andron would not notice it, but she doubted that would be the case. She stepped into the left seat, and beckoned Andron to enter on the other side. He turned around, Eruwen still in his arms, and jumped backwards into the seat before pivoting himself around to face forward. The girl remained dormant as he adjusted his grip on her again.
"Where are we even going? Do we know?" Andron realized that the goal of nearly the past week had been attained; they were at the hub. He had, however, no idea what to do next.
"No, we do not. I think, however, that it would be best to go sternward. The only docks that were attacked were towards the bow as far as I know. Hopefully we will be able to avoid this longer…"
Without another word, the uncertainty of their perilous situation enough to silence her, Aureleth set out for the farthest away place that she knew of, their destination completely under her judgment. The journey would take several hours, most likely. She almost wished that the respite would be shorter, for it would not allow her to ponder the events of the past several hours as deeply as she knew she could not help but do. Her mind flashed back to the discovery she had made within her soul, the small black blight that she saw on her soul seeming to glow ominously as light escaped from around its edges. She gritted her teeth, her grip tightening on the controls.
Cool, but stale-smelling air whipped past the open sides of the vehicle as Andron kept Eruwen secure in his arms. Some of the forceful current reached into their compartment and flicked the ends of the child's hair that hung over her face. Andron looked down at her, and found himself lost studying her face. She looked so incredibly fragile, even more so than Aureleth. He knew that unlike, or possibly like the woman he loved, she in fact was a very delicate soul. Eruwen was but a child, having seen nothing save for peace throughout her entire life up until the week before that had shattered that world right before her eyes. He carefully kept a watch on her breathing, though he suspected that there was little reason to worry that she could lose her life from whatever she had suffered. It was likely simply the result of the immense amounts of stress that had been building up within her, ripping through her body and soul to the point where she was unable to fight the horrors she had been witnessing, and fell unconscious in a vain attempt to escape it. Andron was surprised that she had made it as far as she had, given that even he himself felt the effects of the preceding week wearing away at his composure. He squeezed her shoulder where his arm wrapped around her.
He pitied her so horribly. Even he could say that his childhood would easily be considered incomparably happier than hers given what had been wrought upon her… by his own people. He supposed that that again was something that pained him as well. Again he was reminded by his memories of the past week that the atrocities inflicted upon her were the result of the actions of his own kind. Andron wondered if it was selfish to feel the way he did, if it was wrong to feel what he thought might be self-pity due to something he had no way of controlling when his only pain was being biologically related to those that had utterly obliterated the life of a child. Looking down at her, he again was reminded that they were in reality not too terribly different from one another. He had seen some humans who looked more alien than Eruwen. That did not matter though, he supposed. Regardless of who he was, he had been given her life to take into his hands, and he would do everything he could to protect it.
Though she would almost certainly recover as fully as was possible given their circumstances, he was just so horrified at the prospect of losing her that the mere thought of it threatened to compromise his resolve, and as a result he found himself checking her pulse again. It was becoming a repetitive ritual that he found some odd sort of comfort in. He leaned down and placed his cheek near her face, barely feeling her warm breath before it was whisked away by the air circulating within the cabin. She was alive; a fact he was very well aware of and had been aware of. Still, he felt a compulsive need to be sure that she was okay.
Andron leaned his head back against the head cushion on the panel behind him, sighing deeply. The memory of her face as she looked at him after he had shot that Eldar soldier in front of her burned in his eyes. It was like nothing he had seen before; nearly devoid of expression, stunned as Eruwen herself was, yet able to convey through her ever so slightly wide-eyed stare that something she had been holding onto had been greatly shaken if not utterly shattered. He was at a loss as to how he would explain his actions to her or if it were even possible for him to do so. He had worked his hardest to earn the trust of the scared, timid child, and had finally achieved that goal. Now he was likely to have lost all of it, if not even more. The sickening irony of what he'd done was that he had killed someone that would have likely helped her to protect himself, so that he could then protect her. He almost huffed a half-hearted laugh at the thought. Was that even justifiable? Why not let them take her? Why not leave her where she belonged, among her own? Certainly, given her significance, there would be some place that would have been prepared for children in the event of a war erupting on the craftworld. He asked why several times to himself, but each time he had no answer. Each time, he was left with a void in his thoughts. Was he somehow better than them to protect her? What had he that they did not? He was unsure, and that uncertainty bothered him.
He glanced over at Aureleth who remained intent on getting them to their destination. He would have to talk with her later, he thought. They would discuss a lot, he felt. A split second in time replayed through his head. She stood over a dying guardsman, her sword embedded in his chest. He had told her that they should have run, that they could have avoided their human pursuers, but she simply leapt into their midst and killed them. He had been forced to add another life taken to his conscience, though it was in her defense. What she had done to the last man to die, however, had alarmed him. It was a tiny gesture, something that one paying anything less than very close attention might not have caught. Its significance, however, was quite heavy in his eyes.
An aura of malice had seemed to form around her an instant before it happened, and though it was so, so subtle, he'd felt a change in her from where he had been standing. A gurgling, wretched scream erupted from the dying man's chest before it was cut short in a wet splatter of blood as he was finally killed, the blades of the chainsword scooping vital fluids and shredded tissue and bone debris into its blades before flinging it onto its wielder. His eye had focused on her, as she twisted her sword inside of his chest. It was something he had never observed in her combat before, which from what he had seen was fast and efficient, wasting no time and rendering every strike as deadly as possible, thereby eliminating the need for such crude tactics. Still, she had done it, and at the time that would have least required something of the nature. There was only one reason he could have seen for doing such a thing, and a pit formed in his stomach that he felt likely resembled the one that was probably residing in hers as well as she dwelled on it.
He certainly knew the effects of her losing herself to war; he had experienced it first hand, and almost at the cost of his life. He inwardly grimaced at the memory of the pain she had experienced at recalling what she had done those years before. It had hurt her deeply that she had done such a thing, and then the realization that it had been him had only compounded that. That night, when they had sought shelter together… she had broken down in his arms at the revelation. He frowned. He could not, and would not let her be hurt… even if it was by something that lay within her. Aureleth's failed attempt to hide her troubled expression as she guided them to their destination was also an indication to him that something important had changed, and it was certainly not for the better.
Andron resumed looking ahead, down the seemingly endless tunnel through which they advanced at high speed towards their destination. He could only pray that they would find somewhere safe. While he knew well that he and Aureleth were more than capable of the stresses of prolonged combat, Eruwen was not by any stretch of the imagination of the same preparedness for such a thing. She would not last long at all, and it was already showing. He looked down and, without thinking, plucked a lock of hair that had been resting on her eyelashes away, releasing it and letting it fall with the rest of her hair that dangled over his arm. It no longer shined as it used to, he noticed. Like her soul, her outward appearance was also being tarnished by war and suffering. He frowned, sighing.
Aureleth blinked, not realizing that she hadn't done so in quite some time. The tears that had been pooling in her eyes in a vain attempt to keep them moist against the wind were quivering at the edges. One was finally overpowered by the wind, unable to cling to her any longer, and broke away before sliding down her face and being cast against the seat head behind her on which her hair lay, being soaked into the innumerable strands and causing them to stick to the head rest behind her while the others flowed freely next to them.
The face of the man she had killed with so much hatred in her heart flashed before her again. His panicked eyes, his gaping mouth as he tried to scream, only to eject not sound but the shredded remnants of the contents of his chest cavity from it, burned brightly in her memory. The feelings she had felt towards him flashed through her veins once again, causing her grip to tighten considerably on the controls to the speeder. She sighed, coming back from the slight deviation her mood had taken from its normal smooth and collected manner. She reflected on what had happened. She had killed him with malice, hatred, and a want to see him suffer. It had not only been in the name of duty. What about duty then, she thought? Had she abandoned it? What did her duty even call for at the point at which she found herself? She had acted in defense of her homeworld, she had killed the humans that would have done the same or worse to her, Eruwen, and Andron. What else was there that she had not done? Or had she not acted in defense? Was her hatred a result of their trying to kill Andron? She searched within herself for what had triggered such hatred in an attempt to understand the roiling storm of thoughts and feelings of obligation and others that whirled within her. Andron's mention so closely adjacent to that of duty sparked a connection in her mind that was snuffed out before it could come to full fruition. In her subconscious, though it had lived and died in an instant, its remnants lingered, vying to become whole again.
She looked over to Andron as he cradled one of the few children alive on the craftworld. She smiled for the first time in nearly a day, which was one of the first times she had smiled in decades, if not longer. He had brought unthinkable things into her life. He had brought her happiness. She noted again the manner in which he held the child. It was not the way one would hold something they were simply carrying, or even the way he or she would have held a fallen comrade. Andron cradled her like she was his own life. It was clear to her, as it had been since very shortly after they had found the girl that he greatly cared for her. As Eruwen had shown, she loved Andron back. It had taken time and great effort on his part, but he had finally won the little girl's trust. That may have very well been ruined by the events of the preceding hour, however.
Eruwen had witnessed Andron shooting one of her own people right in front of her, bringing to light a hideous reality that the child had likely not even considered in her innocence. Eruwen loved him, and trusted him, but she had also failed to realize that he was technically the enemy, at least to the rest of their people. That soldier would have killed him, and Andron had acted in self-defense, but would she be able to see it that way? Was Eruwen capable of understanding that even though she had formed a bond with Andron, and that he would give his life for her, he was a hated enemy of their people who would have to kill hers in order to survive? She was so young, so naïve, so fragile that there was a good chance that her image of Andron had died with the Eldar he had killed. Aureleth had even seen the wild-eyed fear of herself in Eruwen. She was in the company of two people who, regardless of whether or not her mind allowed her to believe it, were soldiers, warriors… killers. Andron's pained, gentle soul, merely seeking peace for itself and others, and her own being, full of turmoil, were blackened and corrupted by the horror of war. Worse yet, she realized, Eruwen's loss of innocence was coming from them as well. Their mere presence, their efforts to care for her, regardless of what they did, and how hard they tried, would only add yet more to the darkness filling the child's fragile soul.
And what of the Eldar soldier, she thought? His hurt expression, his frantic pleas for her to answer for her actions, they all whirled at the forefront of her mind. He had said it was treacherous. He had called Andron the enemy. She had objected, of course, but what he said after haunted her.
He looked her straight in the eyes "Will there not be more to come that he will not spare?"
Aureleth attempted to shake the thought away, shuddering slightly as she did so.
"How many of us will die for your little delusion of peace while the rest of us fight for our lives?"
Aureleth gritted her teeth, trying to crush the memory into oblivion. It remained, however, defiant and determined to chip away at her. Insidiously it tried to permeate every facet of her thoughts, reaching out to make itself all she could think of. She knew what it wanted to do, her deep subconscious understanding what it was trying to tell her, to force her to see. She would have none of it, though. She had made a vow, and she would have fought for him if she had been forced to those several days before when they encountered the rangers. Aureleth knew that Andron would have done the same for her, and he had. They were all they had, and she would do anything to protect that, even if… she could think no further, that one thought suppressed to the point where she was unable to retrieve it.
Her thoughts returned to the contorted face of the man she killed. What about him, though? She, Andron, and Eruwen could have easily run away. Andron had wanted to run away. But she didn't; instead she leapt into their midst, what self-restraint she'd had being cast into the flames of war as she gave into the hatred that had been permeating her. She could not be sure. Obviously it was to save her own life in a way, but simply running would have probably been safer, and they could have avoided the situation in which they currently found themselves. She thought back, bringing up as best she could the state of emotions in which she had found herself at that exact moment. She felt the hatred, the anger, the want to defend herself, the child she swore to protect, and the man she loved. But amid that was something she had not noticed at the time, something that she felt was out of place with her normal self. It was dark indeed, seating itself firmly within the hatred and rage she had felt. She had wanted revenge. For what, she was too afraid of her newfound feelings to discern.
Her mind wandered away from the thought of losing herself to battle lust. Something like that would ruin her. She was unsure what to think, having never had to deal with such issues before. She desperately wanted to talk to Andron, and the silence, though short, between them was hurting her more and more with each passing second. She just couldn't bring herself to speak to him, knowing that he had surely understood what had gone through her mind as she had killed those soldiers. It was one of a number of reasons, but others seemed simply impossible to bring into focus for one reason or another.
A soft chime brought her back to reality. They were approaching a turn. Hopefully they would be able to find someplace to hide, and rest… and talk. Aureleth found herself missing the sound of Andron's voice, even if it had only been on the order of hours. She bit her lower lip, and glanced over at him. Andron had fallen asleep, his chin resting on top of Eruwen's head as it slowly rose and fell in tempo with his deep, relaxed breaths. Aureleth smiled, clutching onto the moment as best she could. She could tell, though, that it was not the soundest of sleep. His soul was rife with concern as well, and she knew it was as much for her as Eruwen. She wondered if, in a way, she was like the child he held so tightly. She needed him, too. They all needed each other. It would not be long before they would have to walk again, but there would hopefully be rest and some sense of comfort at the end of it.