Domus Discordia Chapter 49

The sun blazed down the Fortress-Monastery, blanketing the island with waves of heat. Everywhere teams of serfs laboured to make good the damage wrought in the civil war, to unmake the scars left behind. Already much of the destruction had been repaired and soon the rest would be undone. Unlike the last time war had come to the home of the Storm Heralds, this time the physical damage was slight, sadly the wounds to the Chapter's spirit were much more grievous.

Toran reflected upon this as he looked out over the island. He was currently waiting outside a temple on the surface, taking in the activity. With him was his command squad, all joining him to reflect upon recent events. They had seen betrayal, they had seen kin-strife and loss and yet here they were, ready and willing to fight again. Furion in particular seemed eager to be headed out to the stars. Toran didn't know what the Chaplain had experienced during his investiture but it seemed to have had a profound effect on him. Never before had he seemed so fervent in his zeal, in his dedication to the Emperor's will.

Novak was looking at the new Chaplain with a thoughtful expression upon his scarred face. Furion glanced over and said, "What?"

"I'm just wondering," Novak mused, "Do we have to call you Father Furion from now on?"

"That depends," Furion stated.

"On what?" Novak asked.

"On whether you desire to have me break your jaw," Furion stated in a deadpan tone.

Everybody chuckled at that and Toran said, "I think we can dispense with all those ritual titles, elevating our Chaplain's arrogance so played no small part in their fall."

Persion changed the subject saying, "So when do we deploy?"

"Before the sun sets," Toran answered, "We cannot linger, many worlds cry out for aid and we will answer."

Novak asked, "Where are we going?"

Toran thought about it and then replied, "The worlds of the Angle's Run tributary are our highest priority. Those worlds feed the munition factories of Angle's Redoubt and the Imperium desperately needs those guns. Then the worlds leading to the Herculan Deeps require our aid. Beyond that, I do not want to speculate."

Persion mused, "We will not be home again for a long time."

"Good," Jediah snarled, "I've had my fill of intrigue and civil strife. I want a straight forward war to get whet my blade's edge; I yearn for a righteous slaughter to clear my head."

"This has been harrowing," Furion commented, "We have seen strife and miracles in equal measure."

"Speaking of which," Novak said, "Here comes one now."

Toran peered into the distance and saw a strange sight. Coming towards him was the mighty form of Honourable Ajax, the Dreadnought was headed right at them without deviation but he wasn't alone. With him came the forms of the Honour Guard in his refurbished armour and Terminator Sergeant Orath, in pale blue robes. It was odd to see the egotistic warrior out of his armour, the Tactical Dreadnought plate lending him a bulk and weight beyond his frame. Yet the ancient plate needed constant maintenance and care, its belligerent spirit more demanding than conventional power armour.

The trio pulled up short and then Ajax rumbled, "FINALLY, THIS IS WHERE YOU HAVE BEEN HIDING."

Toran bowed and replied, "Honourable Ajax, how may we assist you?"

Ajax looked down at them and intoned, "MY KIND ARE RETURNING TO OUR STASIS-CRYPTS, OUR ANGER EBBS AND WITHOUT IT OUR ABILITY TO HOLD THE BURDEN OF THE AGES AT BAY DWINDLES. YOUNG TONNANT FLAMESWORD INTENDS TO KEEP AN EYE UPON SECOND COMPANY FOR A TIME, BUT AS FOR THE REST OF US, WE MUST SLEEP."

Toran replied, "We thank you for your aid, your power and wisdom saved us."

"YOU DID THAT," Ajax replied, "YOU GAVE US THE FIRE TO RISE ONCE MORE, YET NEVER DID WE EXPECT TO SEE SUCH MIRACLES. ROBOUTE GUILLIMAN WALKS THE STARS… IT IS A NEW AGE. I HAVEN'T EXPERIENCED SUCH A SENSE OF WONDER SINCE I WAS A MERE THOUSAND YEARS OLD."

Toran replied, "We are privileged to have fought beside you. Sleep well and know that you have our gratitude."

Ajax turned and stomped away but after two steps he paused, his waist gimbal turned slightly and he said, "ROBOUTE GUILLIMAN WALKS THE STARS… you will wake me should he come this way, won't you? I would hate to miss a chance to see him ."

Toran noted the shift in tone and reassured his ancient Brother, "You have my word."

With that Ajax stomped away and as they watched him go Novak wondered, "When we will see him again?"

"When we need him most," Furion replied confidently.

At that the Honour Guard spoke up, "I too must take my leave, I have much to do. My order requires rebuilding and such a labour cannot be rushed."

Furion inquired, "Do you have any candidates in mind?"

The Honour Guard nodded, "Several First Company warriors are suitable."

"The strongest?" Jediah queried.

The Honour Guard shook his eagle-masked helm and replied, "There is more to my order than strength, one must have unblemished honour and a total dedication to the principles of the Chapter."

Toran commented, "May the Emperor smile upon your endeavours, we are confident that you shall succeed."

The Honour Guard looked upon the Captain and said, "I wish to thank you for your trust in me, you saved me from making a terrible mistake. I nearly handed victory to Lessall and his scum."

"There is no need to thank me," Toran said, "You were there for us when the time was right, it is I who should be thanking you."

"Fight well and when you return the Chapter shall be well on its way to recovery," The Honour Guard stated. Then he nodded and took his leave. Toran was glad that he had survived the war, it reassured him to know that such paragons of honour yet remained at the heart of their Chapter.

However at that point Orath spoke up to say, "Amazing, you really do take ten words to say what can be put into one."

Toran turned to face the Terminator Sergeant and said, "Have you come to say goodbye too?"

Orath smirked and replied, "Quite the opposite, in fact I am here to inform you Chapter Master Phalros has assigned my squad to your command. I am coming with you."

There was a surprised intake of breath behind Toran and he well understood why. He wasn't sure he would welcome the brash and arrogant Sergeant amongst their close-knit ranks, he'd had more than enough of that from the late and unlamented Mylos. Toran almost thought of asking Phalros to assign another squad but then he chided himself. Orath was a veteran warrior, as lauded as any in the First Company and after seeing him in combat it was quite obvious that he had good reason to be arrogant.

Toran brushed off his moment of angst and stated, "We shall be glad of your company, your presence will be welcome among us."

Orath chuckled, "See if you can keep up with me. In combat I wait for nobody, not even that slovenly Assault Sergeant Lorath."

"Oh?" Novak asked, "You've met?"

Orath explained "He shot at me, I am not about to let that go. An honour duel would not suit in the current climate so we have agreed to a friendly competition to settle the matter. He has this laughable notion that he can match my kill tally in battle, I am relishing the chance to put him in his place."

Toran glossed over the matter saying, "I look forward to seeing you at the front, not to mention the faces of the enemy when they see you bearing down on them."

"We shall teach the scum to know fear," Orath stated confidently, "Until then I need to tend to get my weapons blessed."

Orath bowed slightly then strode off, ever impatient to be back in combat. As he departed Novak muttered, "Great Lorath and Orath, twins in soul, twins in name. Two of them; just what we need."

Furion admonished him saying, "Give credit where it's due, we shall be glad of such fiery spirits when we march to war."

Toran was about to agree with him but then he saw Persion was staring upwards and inquired, "What is it?"

Persion replied absently, "I was just thinking… where do you think Roboute Guilliman is right now?"

"Somewhere blood-soaked no doubt," Jediah said with relish, "Mark my words; he'll be right in the thick of the worst fighting."

Toran disagreed, "I am not so sure; he never had a reputation as a berserker. The legends paint him as the perfect statesman, a world-builder, not a ravager."

Novak grinned and said, "You do realise this means you need a new war-cry."

"Oh?" Toran asked not following his point.

"That one about the memory of Guilliman" Novak quipped, "Hard to memorialise somebody when they're not dead."

That provoked chuckles from all and Toran sighed, "I'll think of something just as soon as you start being serious."

Furion exhaled loudly and changed the subject, "Ajax was right, this is a new age, nothing is the same as it was."

Persion frowned and said, "When I think of him I feel odd, there's this slight quiver to my pulses and my thoughts go light."

Toran knew exactly what he meant and he said, "It is like my spirit responds to the very thought, my gene-seed feels the call of its source and yearns to be united with it. I've never felt the like."

Furion drew in a breath and said, "It is the sensation of hope, pure unadulterated hope. For ten thousand years our hope has been limited, our only ambition being to hold off the inevitable end, to fend off Chaos for one more day. We have been restricted to the idea that we can only keep things as they are, that tomorrow will be the same as today or worse. Yet with the Primarch's return there is genuine hope at last, that the future will not be dark and bloody, that tomorrow might be better than today."

"A better tomorrow," Jediah mused, "What a peculiar notion, I don't think I've ever heard anyone say that before. It's so aberrant that it's never even occurred to me."

Novak jested, "I think that skull-helm is too tight, it's done something funny to Furion's brain."

Toran however agreed with the Chaplain, "It is indeed a new age, a fresh chance for us and all humanity. The past is done and the future is a blank page, we can write a new saga upon it."

"Not quite," Furion commented, "First we must close this book; first we must honour our dead."

Toran bowed his head in acknowledgement and turned to face the temple behind them. The squad came with him as he ascended a short flight of steps and entered the shrine. Within they were confronted by the black wall of marble that was the Rock of Heroes, the memorial to all those who died with true valour.

Toran stepped forward and pulled a short chisel from his belt as he said, "We must honour the fallen, all those who died to save the spirit of the Storm Heralds."

Furion declared, "They laid down their lives to safeguard our principles and ideals and they died for their Brothers. So long as the Chapter survives each and every one of them shall be commemorated."

Jediah affirmed, "They were strong and resolute, not like a sharp dagger but as a stalwart shield

Serious for once Novak stated, "They died in the service of a noble cause, may we all be so fortunate."

Persion looked sad as he said, "They shall be missed, the Chapter is poorer without them."

Then Toran declared, "We thank them for their service and swear that we shall always remember them."

Then he placed the chisel to the black surface and began to carve. He would inscribe the names of each one of the fallen Primarch's Own but the first name he carved was the greatest and most mourned of all: Bylan.

The Storm Heralds will return in Cinere Tempestas