AN: Sorry it took so long, between reading lore and editing this took ages. I'm on a much more steady path now, coming around to the next chapter and the moments after that. I keep delaying our big battles in order to do some more character building moments (especially while our hero's are at warp) just to lay the foundations for juicer moments later.
This was a testament to his own strength. A battle who's victory would be founded on raw strength and power.
Aethod found he never drew his bolt pistol.
It would be pointless.
This was not a foe that could be combated with conventional means. It's strength was to be found in Sorcery, and its control of the Warp. While he had trained as a Psyker for hundreds of years, refining his use of the Immaterium in combat and war, this opponent was crafted by the Warp. Moulded by it.
Aethod, by comparison, merely adopted the Warp. He was but a student in the presence of a natural master.
Yet even considering the Dreadnought-like size of his opponent and its inherent nature, Aethod could feel the righteous assurance of his impending victory.
Nothing, not even a formidable servant of Chaos, would stand between any loyal Space Marine and Horus Lupercal. And if anything did block the righteous vengeance a warrior of the Emperor of mankind wished to enact, it would find itself removed post haste.
The Lord of Change had done just that. It had singled the Librarian out. The immediate reason for such an action was unknowable, all Aethod knew was that this threat would need to be disposed of first.
Both he and Vownus had charged the more obvious target, but the sweeping strike from the larger entity had been what pulled his focus completely.
The Lord of Change had aggressively targeted the Librarian, leaving the Inquisitor to engage the Archtraitor by himself.
Sword and great staff clashed, blue fire coiling with the roiling waves of shadow that emanated from the Daemon's staff. The monster growled, its beak opening up to dispense the sickening language of Chaos. With its unholy speech uttered, the deck's grating began to shake, a tremor rushing through the steel that Aethod stood upon.
The metals of both the sword and staff screeched as Aethod forced his weapon to grind down the length of the blade.
Managing only half a garbled howl as the Force Sword sliced through the digits curled around the staff, the Lord of Change didn't get a second longer to complain as a strike from the Immaterium knocked it back.
Aethod's other hand had swung up to push the ethereal forces of the Warp at his opponent. A very successful strike against the Greater Daemon.
But even as it was flung back, it did not fail to retaliate in kind.
A swooping noise was Aethod's warning, and even with all of his super human senses, the gigantic wing of the falling beast still managed to clip him.
The power behind the strike was admittedly incredible.
Aethod found himself crashing into the door of the cargo hold before he could even blink. The metal warped, damaging the door permanently, perhaps even destroying its usability indefinitely.
His vision swam for only a moment, his mind pulling his focus back and his feet finding solid ground a moment later.
The Lord of Change was standing as well, its enormous leathery chest shredded by five long gashes from the Psychic flay that Aethod had sent at it. It's beady eyes, positioned in a skull that hung from the end of a long and winding neck, focused on the Space Marine Psyker.
"Buuuuuurrrrnnnn" it hissed, its tongue lapping out of the sharpened beak as its eyes began to glow with purple energy.
The staff was pointed toward Aethod, its surface now alight with the same inhuman tinge of purple, runes of a damned language now brightly highlighted on its length.
A spout of fire, flames fueled by the malevolent forces of the warp, spewed from the tip. This cone of destruction flashed toward Aethod, prompting the instinctual training of the Librarian to kick in.
The Force Sword was pushed up, Aethod's mind demanding power flow through it. His blue fire, the same flame which coated the sword, caught the brunt of the daemonic attack. The bulwark held under the constant roaring torrent.
A temporary stalemate. One that the super human Psyker planned to resolve.
Aethod, feeling the heat of his defensive shield lick against his face, wrapped a second hand around his sword's handle. His feet remained planted firmly.
With a herculean effort of both physical strength, psychic might and sheer will, Aethod took a step forward.
And then another.
The fire burned brighter, the flames buffeting against the Librarian's blue hued barricade. Aethod could hear the gurgling growl of the Daemon somehow discernable over the howling fire.
But it did not stop him.
His advance was picking up momentum. Soon he would be within striking range.
And the beast seemed to realise this.
It's spout of flames ceased, the staff which had cast it now twirling above its head into a descending strike upon Aethod's skull.
The Librarian, noticing the lack of daemonic flames, ceased the flow of fire which fueled his own shield. His dash to the left narrowly avoided death.
The ground shattered where the staff struck, the grates either breaking or bending to the force that had been applied to it.
Despite its gangly appearance, the Lord of Change was both agile and powerful. It's physical appearance was both unsightly and deceptive, a lesson Aethod was about to learn.
The head of the staff jerked up from the ground, swinging into the Space Marine's side. Jerking his arm left and bracing the flat side of his blade with his palm, Aethod's force sword took the strike. A burst of blue fire spit into the air from where the hit landed, but besides causing the Librarian to skid further away no damage was inflicted.
Keeping his blade and the staff locked with one another, Aethod attempted to run his weapon down the length of it.
He'd try and take an arm off the creature. Aethod doubted it would allow him such an easy shot at its chest or neck, so he'd resort to hacking away its body piece by piece.
The Lord of Change, obviously not wanting a repeat of its finger loss, pulled away. A mighty wing flew in swiftly from the left, as the retracted staff swung back in from the right.
Aethod saw an opportunity for a successful counter attack. He twisted the blade slightly, preparing himself for the moment.
But this would more than likely be a painful trade.
Flipping his sword over to his left hand, Aethod pulled the warp into his now empty right. As the staff collided with his waiting and open palm, the sword sliced into the descending wing.
As the wing was cleaved from the creature's body, its almighty screech of pain was matched by Aethod's roar of determination.
The corrosive energy of the warp that was being channeled by the warp creature's staff was nothing to simply disregard. Upon making physical contact with Aethod's Psychically protected palm, its destructive powers, the nature of change itself, bit into the Librarian's palm.
It turned Aethod's power against him.
Yet while the scorching agony was incredible, Aethod was an Astral Knight. A son of Dorn.
He was no stranger to pain. Even something as significant as a warp inflicted wound, by a greater being aligned with the forces of Chaos, was bearable.
His opponent's reaction, and the staggering step it took backward, presented Aethod with his opportunity.
Pain was temporary.
Victory however…
With a struggling push of power, he flung the staff away. The creature, who only had one good hand to hold the weapon, was destabilized further by the push.
It was wide open for an attack.
Aethod's sword burned brighter as he charged forward.
"For the Emperor!"
Vownus curtailed his fury, stamping it out as his mind slowly gained some manner of control over his bubbling rage. His foe, which he had previously believed to be Horus Lupercal… was no longer the hulking Primarch.
After the previous form had been consumed by darkened shadows, what had emerged was arguably far worse.
"Oh? Why the long face kiddo… I thought you would have been happy to see me!"
It was a familiar tone that was thrown at Vownus, a voice he had most recently heard outside of Vox recordings from his personal library. That was because the person it belonged to only existed in recordings and pict's.
But dressed to the nines in the blackened digs of a witch hunter's garb, and capped off with the hat identical to the one Vownus wore…
It was him.
The black brimmed hat dipped backward with an errant flick of the man's finger, his arms coming to rest across his chest. Vownus couldn't believe it.
The same black trenchcoat, wrapped around the burgundy vest that led to the darkened pants and armored greaves…
He could even see the small chain, looped from a breast pocket in the vest to some point inside the coat. Buried in the pocket, the small chain was attached to a chronometer. Vownus couldn't see the device, but he knew of this detail.
As well as the bare impossibility being presented to him.
Something that he saw fit to declare immediately.
His words were barren, barely echoing out into the room crammed with sounds such as screeching, roars and battle.
Even Aethod's duel with the Chaos Daemon was not enough to drown out Vownus' words, or distract the man from who was before him.
A figure from his past.
"You're dead"
The man grinned, his full cheeks pulling his smile wide across his five o'clock shadow. Facial scars lingered all over his face. All the aged wounds didn't detract from both of his green eyes twinkling with mirth.
Even as Vownus shakily pulled himself up right, his voice found the means to articulate the accusation he so desperately delivered.
"I killed you"
The man nodded, "you did"
"How…" Vownus' thoughts were moving faster than an Astartes Deep Strike, his neurons firing off information and conclusions as fast as they could manage. In his anger, he had failed to act with the calm rationality one of his station was required to utilise at times like this. His rage should not drive his decisions or mandate his purpose.
Vownus wasn't Rykehuss.
And it was because of that simple thought, that his mind pieced together everything he had so recently observed in ordered clarity.
Eventually he settled on the simplest informational prompt he could. A soft spoken demand that was coupled with the Inquisitor drawing upon the Warp once more.
His injuries could wait.
This situation demanded his immediate attention and focus, and nothing could detract him from that.
"What are you"
The thing chuckled, its borrowed eyes shifting to a calm confusion. Vownus' eyes narrowed, as the voice of his teacher replied so very calmly.
"Kiddo, you don't seem to-"
"Cease the charade, Daemon… Alvarion Naal is dead" Vownus snapped, his powers forming an invisible blade of warp energy. The deadly unseeable weapons extended from his tightly coiled fists. The length of it, elongated by Vownus' temperament, cut a fine line through the grated ground.
Green eyes glanced down at his hands, telling the Witch-hunter that the being could sense the deadly protrusions, even if the visual cue had not been enough.
"Horus Lupercal was slain by the Emperor" Vownus continued speaking, his anger simmering on the surface of his tongue, but the stride in his step remaining purposeful.
He approached his opponent, his words taking an edge of frost as each step left trails of ice in its wake.
"The very face that you wear so callously, Daemon, taught me everything I know. While you may have hoped my master's face would discourage me in some way…"
Vownus stopped two meters away, glancing up and down at the fake that stood so very calmly before him.
"The dead do not rise. You are not Horus Lupercal. You are not Alvarion Naal. You are an imposter, a servant of the Chaos God, the entity known as the Deceiver" Vownus raised his fists, his stance moving into a fighting posture, "name yourself, Daemon. Or die-"
"-Forgotten to history?" the being chuckled, cutting off Vownus' declaration with the tempered words. A savage smile, so out of place on the face of the charming man that Alvarion Naal had been…
Vownus' glare worsened. But he did not attack. Not yet.
The arms locked over its chest uncrossed, coming to rest at its sides as it spoke again.
"I am the Trickster, the Changeling of the mentioned 'Deceiver!'" he bowed forward slightly, his stolen green eyes never leaving the Inquisitor's face, "A humble Servant of the Great Architect, at your service"
As it straightened itself, Vownus' fingers twitched. The glint in its eye was malicious in nature, the smile only adding to its now noticeable inhuman presence.
Vownus no longer held back.
He had everything he needed. This being would make it into the official Imperial record. Inquisitor's of the Ordo Malleus would be informed of its capabilities. An old dog like Ahmazzi would make sure the word got out.
The Inquisitor sprung forward, his hand slicing forward to embed itself into the torso of his foe. And it did, parting the clothing, skin, flesh and bone without failure.
But even as his Psychic attack bit deeply into the figure, Vownus was taken aback as he was not greeted by blood.
Blackened smoke frothed up from around punctured holes created by the psychic blade.
With a savage twist and a drag, the torso of the being was neatly bisected.
It never stopped smiling, even as the two halves of its body fell apart. Black mist blossomed out from each gaping wound, tinges of purple and blue sparking in the clouds of its internal organs.
The head of Alvarion Naal turned to Vownus, its green eyes now alight with mischief.
"The boy will be ours. One way or another…. He cannot…" the two pieces of the body were beginning to disintegrate into the formless matter it was composed of. Like water eroding sand, pieces of it crumbled into black mist that dissipated into nothing.
"Better… hurry…" the head mocked, the destruction of its form slowly working up its neck.
Vownus watched the head dissolve, his control over the Immaterium stretched out as far as he could allow it within the confines of the ship.
When he was certain he could feel nothing of the presence that belonged to this 'Changeling', did his mind finally shift to his first priority.
"Lucian"
Turning around, Vownus waded through the destruction of the cargo deck with incredible speed, trying to quickly make his way toward where the body of the boy had been.
And all he would find…
A cold corpse, laying deathly still in a pool of its own blood.
Caius' boots pounded against the steel ground of deck six's hallways and paths. Armed and armored in his Inquisitorial gear, the humming energy of his drawn Las-pistols was drowned out by the pounding of his blood.
The Inquisitorial Agent was following in the wake of Lynwoods determined sprint, Bolt pistol sweeping and aimed before them. They had gotten the call from the Tempests Advance's Captain about Vownus' position.
She'd briefed the two of them on the situation, as well as the reason for the general alert that had been issued across the vessel.
Daemon incursion.
And Lucian had been taken.
Lynwood had been at the Gym, having been introduced to the interesting machines and training devices by Caius, his unofficial subordinate. Said Subordinate had been… busy, with a certain Imperial Guard. A Sergeant, to be precise.
Their late night dalliances had resulted in them being figuratively late to the party. However they were currently in a high speed endeavour to make up for this lack of foresight.
"Captain" Lynwood barked into his Vox Caster, barely breaking a sweat at the dead sprint he was moving at
"We are approaching the starboard Cargo Bay. Has the Inquisitor hailed you yet"
Caius' own earpiece crackled as Captain Olivina replied.
"We've only been able to triangulate his position so far, Agents… Vownus has yet to establish contact..."
Caius didn't need to see Lynwood's face to know that the man was grimacing at the decidedly negative news. He himself did not have the most hopeful of expressions.
It was only natural for him to follow up on that disturbing revelation.
Caius clicked on his Vox caster, relaying his own orders to Olivina.
"Captain, if we are to also lose contact with you, contain the area. I recommend you inform the Astral Knights as well. The Emperor protects"
Caius was aware of the Astartes presence on the rest of the floor due to the Guardsmen chatter on the Vox. If anyone would be needed to reinforce whatever shit show they were walking into, it would be the Space Marines.
A beat of silence, before; "Confirmed Agent. The Emperor protects"
The channel clicked off.
Silence returned.
Only Caius' deep breathing and the pounding of his and Lynwood's boots against steel echoed out.
Another twist and turn, and they were at the destination.
Caius grit his teeth at the sight before him. Twisted and warped, the large diagonally sealed doors to the Cargo deck did little to alleviate the building tension in the Agent's gut. It seemed as if a great mass had been flung against the metal, nearly ripping the sheets of steel from their holdings.
It was a miracle in itself that the door still managed to keep the other compartment sealed.
Lynwood tisked as the two slowed their approach, taking stock of the situation before them.
"This may be difficult to remove-"
A colossal groan of steel boomed toward them, cutting off the older man's words. They steeled their grips on their own weapons, pointing them toward the now screeching metal.
It was a tense moment.
If one strained hard enough they might have been able to hear the mechanical whine of Lynwood's bionic hand attempting to crush his Bolter.
Caius couldn't help but glance between the door and his friend.
He wasn't sure what they would do, especially if something exceedingly dangerous came through the-
With a gigantic bash of force, the doors exploded outward.
The two heavy sets of metal crashed down, scraping across the floor for a few feet before coming to a dead stop, revealing the figure that had battered them away.
While Caius and Lynwood recognised the figure, they did not lower their weapons.
Aethod was in a sorry state.
The Librarian's armor was covered in scuffs and scratches, blemishes on the sanctity of his colossal form. His hood was down, revealing tired eyes as he surveyed the men before him.
Caius noticed how he favoured one side of his body, as well as how his right arm hung limply at his side. Tiny wisps of grey smoke, corroded by an unnatural black and white, rose from his damaged hand.
"My Lord" Lynwood began, calmly stepping forward, "is everything alright?"
Aethod didn't respond for a few moments. His eyes moved between the two agents, before slowly resting upon the space above them.
A forlorn tone took the Space Marine's cadence, and with it, that gnawing pit of worry expanding forever more within Caius' belly.
"I am afraid, we were too late"
His obviously wounded limb swung limply as he stepped to the side, barely able to move his bulk out of the way for the person behind him.
The black hat identified him, even if his customary garb was somewhat mangled and damaged. Vownus' face was hidden by the tip of his hat, coming low over his features. The gesture of it pointed to the figure he carried in his-
Caius' gasp was unintentional, but he couldn't help it from slipping out.
Lynwood charged forward just as Caius lowered his gun.
"Boy!" Lynwood barked, rushing toward the figure in Vownus' arms.
Held by the back of his knees and his upper back, Lucian's head was cradled into Vownus' side, the youth's oddly still figure seeming so peaceful.
Before Lynwood could reach Vownus, the arm of the Astartes reached out and braced the old man, keeping him from fully reaching the figure.
Aethod shook his head slowly at Lynwood.
Caius approached taking in the blood soaked figure of Lucian.
The young boy…. The one he and Lynwood had rescued… the little twerp that he had tutored relentlessly… their arguments over obscure topics and minor details rang in his mind, his eyes meeting the empty gaze of the corpse Vownus cradled.
He didn't see a dangerous Psyker anymore.
Nor did he see a threat to his personal well being.
He saw a boy, with a hole in his chest...
Caius saw an innocent dead child.
"My Lord" he nearly whispered. The hat did not move.
He looked at the strikken face of the boy, held so carefully by his boss, almost as if the figure might shatter should he be mishandled.
"Vownus" he tried, and the brim tilted upward slowly. Furious yet sorrowful eyes glanced back at him, the Inquisitor's emotions so blatantly obvious that Caius was nearly taken aback by how open the man currently was.
He stepped forward, into the Witch-hunter's path, carefully reaching for the bo- the corpse…
With a gentle hand, and under the watchful gaze of the others, Caius reached forward and slid the boy's blue eyes shut.
"Master of Mankind" Caius whispered, his eyes closed and his gloved hand gently touching the boy's cold cheek as he began the prayer
"A light has been extinguished, long before its duty be done. We know not why, but can only hope You shall receive their soul safely"
A hand clamped on Caius' shoulder, before Lynwood continued the prayer.
"Father of Humanity" the old man grumbled, "though we are far, and surrounded by danger, we have not forsaken You, Your care and Your Light. Our duty holds firm, our resolve, now ever stronger"
As Lynwood released Caius' shoulder, the younger Inquisitorial Agent stepped away from his boss.
Vownus was watching the two of them with a stern eye, his previous fury now replaced solely by stoic sorrow. He nodded, offering no words to the two men as he stepped past them.
In sync with one another, Caius and Lynwood moved to follow, stepping on either flank of Vownus as they departed.
The large figure of Aethod marched behind them.
What had initially been backup for an impromptu recovery mission….
….Had ended in a small and somber funeral procession.
With a scream of fright, Lucian clasped both hands to his chest and directly above where his heart lay in his breast.
There was… no wound.
The hole which should have been located on his left pectoral, the one inflicted by the giant talons of the black armored monstrosity, was missing.
Smooth skin was all that greeted his worried fingers.
As his panic subsided just a small amount, his eyes keyed him into the oddity of the space around him.
He was laying in a field of incredible familiarity.
'Not this again' Lucian grumbled, scrambling to his feet and pushing aside the golden stalks of wheat and grain. While taking a personal inventory, the youth failed to find any significant wounds to himself. He was wearing grey pajamas… the shirt was torn open, but the pants seemed fine. Empty pockets.
Not much to work with.
Mildly frustrated, his bare feet curled into the dusty earth as he spun around, his eyes searching over the endless fields.
The same golden fields of Helios… the ones where he'd seen Alena. They were dream-like and rather flawless in their appearance, waving calmly in a wind that Lucian could not feel.
The sun was low in the clear blue sky, dipping beyond a horizon Lucian could not look at directly. Even peeking around a careful hand in front of his face, the light was far too bright for him to stare at.
He wondered if someone would make an appearance, as that was what usually happened… but after minutes of silence and the calm waves of audible wind, Lucian decided to just explore.
Heat on his back and eyes open wide, Lucian began his walk away from the light. While the sun was still in the sky, he need not worry about shadows.
Hopefully he'd find something.
Or someone.
...Lucian just hoped they wouldn't be weird or scary.
He'd had enough of those kinds of people.
Vownus had stormed away only moments ago, the tails of his trench coat flapping behind him as he vanished from sight. Caius had watched him go out of the corner of his eye, a pounding anger composing the inquisitors march out of the cordoned off area of the Medicae.
He hadn't said a word to either Lynwood or Caius.
Or Gideon.
The man's words and verdict had obviously unsettled the Inquisitor.
Not that the two of them would have noticed, as focused as they were upon Lucian's now blanketed form. The boy had been stripped bare and examined ten minutes ago by the Inquisitorial Chiurgeon, Gideon Lestimo.
Vownus' personal medic and capable interrogator.
Only a small number of divisions within the Imperium possessed the detailed anatomical knowledge as a man such as Gideon did.
His age was expressed by the long and thin grey mustache, its vibrant color bled out across his aeons of service. Gideon, like most of the older set of men within the Imperium of Man, had been of the kind to opt for a complete shave of his head. Even mankind could tell when a situation was beyond recovery. But even though his likeness was similar to those he served beside, a face weathered by stern features and grim situations, a look that made him akin to so many of those devoted to their service….
Gideon could be differentiated by his inherently cold presence.
Not a frost generated by that of a Psyker or any being of the Warp, but this sheer lack of empathy and concern.
The man was clinical, professional, and inherently ordered by factual and objective information.
The dower old man, in his high collar white robes and short pointed cap, hadn't looked at any of them as he had spoken.
A tone of honesty was interwoven in his speech, and was something that must have irked Vownus by a great deal.
Caius couldn't shake the man's words from his memory, as he carefully detailed what Lucian's final moments would likely have been.
It was a prettier picture than what some Guardsmen had amounted to… but still...
"Minor bruising around the neck, scratches here and there" the elder man said as he peered down his large and thick glasses, analysing the boy's body carefully.
The Inquisitorial Chiurgeon briefly touched the scarred mark on the boy's cheek with a gloved finger, mumbling something to himself before continuing down the body.
He stopped almost immediately at the neck, tilting the head up to examine it more thoroughly.
"Powerful grip" he deduced, before trailing his attention down the boy's side and lifting a limp arm. Gideon slowly worked his way up the limb, ending at an up close examination of the fingers "...the calluses are old, these knicks are not. The child scratched his fingers on whatever held him"
Gideon dropped the limb without another word, unceremoniously letting it bang against the table.
He didn't seem to mind Vownus' livid stare as he examined the chest. A moment later he lifted the boy- the corpse, he lifted the corpse onto its side.
Staring at the back for a moment, his eyes glancing up and down Lucian's spine before finding whatever he was looking for.
The corpse flopped down as Gideon caught the elbow of his right arm, the same hand coming up to stroke his own chin.
"Bruises would indicate he fell from a significant height improperly, combined with the marks on his throat…" Gideon looked up toward Vownus, the Inquisitor failing to stare back at him "something bigger than a Space Marine was holding him. Humanoid, by any definition, going by the marks on the neck..."
Vownus' shoulders tightened, and Caius knew the man's face was positively boiling even if he couldn't see it at the time.
Gideon seemed to recognise his tone was generating rage, so he proceeded. Caius had noted the plain curiosity in the man's eye.
Larger than a Space Marine… Vownus didn't dispute the claim, but neither did he elaborate on what had occured.
All Caius and Lynwood had known was Lucian had entered the now cordoned off Cargo Bay. Aethod and Vownus had pursued. They exited the space with Lucian's body.
"An interesting wound. Perfectly placed above the boy's heart, some kind of bladed weapon pierced the precise center of the organ. Catastrophic damage occurred, and the boy bled out naturally"
Gideon gestured to the hole on the boy's chest, coming in closer to observe the oddity he had noticed and was acknowledging.
"What confuses me is the cauterization of the internals. All throughout the wound there's obvious signs of it, but without knowing what weapon was involved I couldn't-"
Vownus snapped at that point.
"Just-" he barked, before calming himself a moment, his hands clenching by his sides.
"Yes my Lord?" Gideon prompted neutrally, taking a step back again.
His attitude and tone did not waiver before Vownus' anger.
The man held no fear of the powerful Psyker. Caius supposed it had to do with the fact that he was simply doing his job. Even from this brief interaction with him, Caius figured that Gideon didn't seem like a man with many underlining plans or motivations.
He did his job, and he did it damn well.
"How… how fast was it…" Vownus couldn't bring himself to finish the question.
But everyone in the room got the gist. The Inquisitor wanted to know how long it had taken Lucian to die. Vownus wanted to know if it was a slow death. He wanted to know if he would have had enough time to save Lucian.
Gideon contemplated the question, his eyes once again drawn to the wound.
"This is approximate, but with normal human physiology, and for being so young… Less than a minute for loss of consciousness, and…hmmm... two minutes before irreversible brain damage and the shut down of his nervous system."
Vownus' shoulders slumped.
And Caius felt that he knew why the Inquisitor suddenly seemed so dejected, if even only for a moment.
...there wouldn't have been enough time to save Lucian, even if he hadn't been waylaid by whatever had inflicted the mortal wound.
The Witch Hunter, even after coming to terms with ath understanding, obviously had no care for it. Failure was not tolerated by the Imperium, less so the Inquisition.
The boy was dead, and Vownus had been able to do nothing.
His anger had re-emerged as Gideon laid a cloth over the body, and after taking an abrupt 180 degree turn, blazed off.
Silence blanketed the small room.
Gideon departed shortly after, having not been ordered to dissect the body or anything further. He had other duties to attend to.
And then Lynwood left, a soft pat on Caius' shoulder. Naturally the elder of the two Helios natives was more adjusted to death and tragedy. His grief, if there even was any, manifested simply in a dour expression.
Caius often joked at how Lynwood didn't have a positive bone in his body. The grim reality that Caius was now waking up to, was there was a reason for his elder colleague's temperament.
A damn good one as well.
People died all the time, and most of the time there was next to nothing you could do about it.
He quietly mulled that over as his friend turned away and left.
In the next second Lynwood was gone.
Leaving Caius standing by the pale corpse of the boy he had agreed to protect. The body of a boy that had gotten him involved with the Inquisitor in the first place… gotten him into this damn mess...
Caius could not do anything but think helplessly to himself, 'what now?'
With Lucian dead, Caius was now an unnecessary bodyguard and teacher onboard an Imperial vessel trillions of miles away from his home.
His purpose for being here was gone.
'What a hollow thought'
A child, even as powerful and incredibly dangerous as he had been, was dead. And the first thing in his thoughts was 'I might be out of a job'
In a moment of somber consideration, Caius chastised himself.
A moment of penance, and another prayer managed to ease his mind.
Eventually, Caius finally found the strength to turn away.
When the Inquisitor calmed down, he would ask Vownus for his new orders. This was likely what Lynwood was also considering at this very moment.
Caius managed a step away from the mortuary table before the temperature of the room dropped.
As he turned, it spiked.
Caius brought a hand to his face, to shield himself from the radiant light.
….
It… it wasn't possible.
He couldn't believe what he was seeing.
"For the sake of the Emperor!" Lucian growled aloud to the endless field, swatting at the heads of the grains petulantly, "is anyone out there!" he yelled into the distance.
Only the light wind, and the dust gathered by its waving presence, responded to him.
With a snarl and an immature stamp of his foot, he turned back to glance at the Horizon.
More accurately, he turned back to gaze into the brilliant golden glow that the sun casted upon the endless fields. Lucian still guarded his gaze with a hand, protecting his eyes from the oppressive light.
He'd been wandering for… awhile. To be perfectly honest, Lucian had no clue how long he'd been stuck in this never ending field. Besides the obviously setting sun, the passage of time was unknowable.
Caius had told him how different words had different Solar cycles, so while the dipping ball of fire was a great indicator as to time passing, Lucian had no clue exactly how much time had passed.
But all of this was instantly forgotten by the quite sudden voice echoing out from behind him.
"Finally!"
Like the crack of a whip, Lucian spun around to face the exclamation and by extension, the exclamer.
It was a man.
That had seemingly appeared out of nowhere.
A very… unique was the only word to describe this man.
Over the last few months of his life, Lucian had been subjected to a myriad of different and varied people. The rich, servants of the rich, soldiers, guards, the Emperor's finest, Inquisitors… yet somehow this man was different from all of them.
Firstly he was incredibly tall, nearly as tall as the monstrosity that had stabbed Lucian.
'That felt as if it happened days ago'
Secondly, while he was covered from neck to toe in ragged blue robes, his red face, hands and long hair were exposed.
He had red skin.
Thirdly, he had only one eye.
One.
Uno.
His visual impairment was quite clear to Lucian, considering his scarlet hair was held back by a brown ornate headpiece. Something that the boy only noticed when the giant tilted its head down, looking at him with its keen, singular, eye.
A bright grin settled on his features.
It's arms crossed over its chest.
And with a voice that seemed far more amicable than such a gargantuan man deserved to have, he addressed Lucian.
"You wouldn't believe how hard it was to organise this"
As eloquently as ever, the boy replied.
"What?"
The giant hummed as it nodded, completely unperturbed by the boy's confusion.
"Mhhmmm. Really! I thought we'd be speaking with one another in a few months at least" his arms uncrossed as he reached a massive hand down toward the boy, "The name's Red, pleased to finally meet you, Lucian"
Completely struck by the cheery and sunny disposition, Lucian dumbly reached out, and placed his minuscule hand in the giant's grip.
They shook.
Lucian's jaw worked for a few moments, then he spoke.
"I'm so confused"
The giant, who had identified himself as 'Red', barked out a booming laugh.
"I can only imagine. Let us be clear, however" he gestured around them, his hands pointing out toward the large and infinite fields, "we are currently two souls, having as private a conversation as I could manage"
One particular word stuck with Lucian, something that made his stomach drop out.
"Souls?" he replied, repeating the word 'Red' had chosen.
He didn't care about the need for such a private conversation, or how Red had 'organised this'. What did he mean by 'souls?'
The giant's eye refocused on him, his face sadly shifting.
"You're uh…." he looked up, sighed and then shrugged sheepishly, "you're dead. Stabbed through the heart if I'm correct"
Lucian felt his body grow cold. His expression froze as his fingers tightened.
He took a deep, calming breath, even as Red continued speaking.
Lynwood had taught him better than this.
'Fear is the mind killer. Once it is gone, only you shall remain'
He would not be brought down by such fearful thinking. Not anymore.
Lucian failed to catch the appreciative glance of Red, who clearly saw the boy steel himself.
"But as your soul left your body before it got fixed up, I managed to catch it here" Red explained, taking a large step back as he waved a singular hand at the space between them.
"This was the most secure way I could think of, speaking to you" as his hand traced the air, a table rose from the earth, cast in marble and white.
Gold trimmed the edges of the table.
The look of it tugged at something in Lucian's mind, and the obviously magical nature of 'Red' only furthered his unsettled thoughts.
But he was not scared.
In fact, if anything he was painfully curious.
"I was killed, so we could talk?" Lucian settled for. In his young head, he concluded that this 'Red' had some kind of ulterior motive. While he had no proof of this… no one did anything for free. Not in the Imperium. Not in this galaxy. It was not a kind place, nor was it charitable.
This 'Red', had orchestrated a clandestine meeting between the two of them, and just to talk?
Lucian wasn't buying that.
The giant obviously wanted something.
Whether or not Lucian would be able to figure it out…
In fact, he could be lying about anything and everything he'd said so far, or would continue to say. But… what other options were there? Just keep walking and try to ignore the huge figure of Red?
Red could probably walk and keep pace with a running Lucian, so there was no feasible way to escape the conversation.
Not responding would just be childish and unproductive…
Lucian pushed these thoughts aside.
What harm ever came from a conversation?
Regardless.
As the two of them seated themselves on either side of the white marble table, surrounded by the golden swaying fields, Lucian vowed to not be fooled.
The giant began their little talk.
"I called in a favour, so we could talk privately" Red explained, "too many nosy eyes and ears if we did this the traditional way"
"A favour…" Lucian whispered incredulously, "that shape shifting mons- that was a Daemon!" the youth gestured with an accusing finger as he declared, "You called in a favour with Daemons! You-! You're a traitor!"
Red frowned, his eye shifting into a glare, his jovial tone vanishing with the expression.
"I am a Scholar and a Sorcerer, boy. The pursuit of knowledge and understanding, both within real space and the Immaterium, is my only goal"
He snorted at Lucian's returning glare, "you are an ignorant child, so I shall forgive you for your insult this time"
Lucian narrowed his eyes as he continued to glare up at the giant, "My teachers-"
Red cut across him instantly.
"Your teachers. By that you mean Vownus Kaede, Lynwood Deculus and Caius Helix… correct?"
Lucian flinched, but nodded.
Red leaned forward over the table, his form dwarfing the structure as he peered empirically down at Lucian. His tone remained both dismissive and derisive.
"Your teachers. Perhaps I should give you a clear summary, so we are both on the same page with who you were about to so callously defend"
A stacked deck of cards appeared in his hands as he spoke.
"Vownus Kaede. The Inquisitor who threatened to kill you if you did not come with him, and fails to teach you anything truly important about your gifts. Lynwood Deculus, who thought you weak and immature, and now trains your body for Kaede's purposes. Caius Helix, who fears your power and what you can do, yet educates you in the Imperial dogma"
Red shuffled the deck of strange cards as Lucian's expression stiffened.
"Vownus taught me the dangers of the warp, and how to handle it" Lucian attempted to defend.
Red chuckled, and the boy grit his teeth.
Lucian wished he could just call the giant a liar.
However, he could not refute what Red had said regarding Lynwood and Caius. Even Lucian could feel the layer of detachment between himself and Caius, the little looks that the man gave him only confirming Red's words.
"You seem to be mistaken. The Inquisitor has not taught you anything about the true dangers of the warp. Nor has he shown you how to properly... 'handle it', as you say"
Lucian's mouth was twisted shut, but his eyes gave away his steaming want to cuss out at Red.
"For now, they seek to make a weapon out of you"
Lucian watched Red carefully, and his expression slackened slightly. His silence was only held by the cocksure words that the cloaked giant continued to deliver.
"And eventually, months or years from now, they will unleash you upon battlefield after battlefield, galvanizing your will and soul so that you may be their tool" Red rolled his shoulders, splitting the deck as he shut his eye in apparent concentration.
"Had you been anyone else, your gifts would be used to exclusively smite the enemies of Mankind, killing and butchering until you are nothing but a hollow and burnt out husk" the eye opened, gazing into Lucian's own, somehow snatching both of his in the pointed gaze.
"Through training they will break you. Through war they will make you. And when you are at your lowest, lost of all hope and the future you so readily strode toward… that is when they will take you. All of you. And you will serve their purposes and missions, consigned to a fate you had no hand in choosing, merely the one you were dealt"
Red's eye flicked up to look Lucian in the face, even as he spread the deck of cards between both his hands.
"But there's a few things you can do to avoid that destiny"
Red dealt a card toward Lucian.
"You could tell Vownus about the 'dreams' you had when those cultists were attempting to have you possessed. Do you recall those?" Red's tone was mocking, enough that Lucian actually bowed his head.
His mind could recall the moments. Not-Vanella, the monster on the throne of skulls… and the maze with the tentacle box...
Something about his expressions must have given away his thoughts, because Red snorted a laugh again.
"Of course you do," he dealt another card toward the fuming Lucian, "go ahead and explain those 'dreams' in detail to the Inquisitor. I will warn you however, he will attempt to kill you immediately afterward. So whether you die to Vownus, or those under his command or associated with him is of no concern. When your dead you won't be stuck under his tyrannical control any longer"
Red paused with the next card, his silence getting Lucian to look up at the curious eye.
The giant peered at the youth with an acute focus, his eye shifting across Lucian's face. The scrutiny seemed to uncover what Red was looking for, and he softly exclaimed his discovery.
"...but you already guessed that… didn't you? You've wanted to tell him… but you never did" his features shifted to a smile, "Hmm. Maybe you're not completely idiotic"
Before he could respond to the insult, Red plowed over him, continuing to speak.
"Another way to avoid a pointless death on a lonely road is to give yourself to the gods of Chaos. That would mean opening your mind to the warp and being-" Red stopped talking at the utter fury emanating from Lucian.
Such a suggestion was not well received.
"Hey" Red shrugged, "I never suggested it was a good idea. But you certainly wouldn't die without a purpose, or alone for that matter. Whatever daemon would inhabit your body would gladly work alongside your power. And even if you'd probably be killed by Vownus and the one you call 'Creepy', it's a far better alternative than being a slave to another's misguided ideals"
Ignoring the boy's simmering anger, Red continued to deal.
"Or, lastly, we could keep talking. Even after you return to the real world"
Six black cards with a soft red edge lay in front of Lucian.
"A dialogue between you and me would mean I could help you watch out for the things you're missing… I can cover for the fact that you don't know any better"
Three were closely beside one another.
"I can also teach you what your missing, inform you of the small details and problems that Kaede will seemingly forget to inform you of"
One lay on top of another.
"You've got great potential, Lucian. I would hate to see it wasted"
And the last was alone, far from the other five cards.
But the cards could wait. Whatever their purpose was. Lucian's attention was still tied to Red. The giant said some of the strangest things...
"I'm dead" the boy declared flatly, "unless you've lied about that, which I believe to be quite possible… I won't be returning to the real world"
Red winced.
"That's where you're wrong Lucian. Unlike most Mortal's… you're a unique case. You don't die so easily. It would take some very specific conditions, or excruciatingly rare armaments to truly kill you"
The rest of the deck was placed in the corner as Red rested his elbows on the white marbled table.
"That is the whole reason we're able to speak here in the first place. While most souls would be consumed by the entities that exist within the Immatierium, both your soul and body are safeguarded by your… Father"
The youth's word shifted at the last word from Red's lips.
His mind drew a blank as he tried to react, to respond to such a statement.
But it was hard.
Lucian was floored. Even if this had been one of the more one sided conversations he'd ever had… the trade off of information Red was giving him, if credible…
"You… you know my dad… you know who he is?"
Red's face made an odd expression, his gaze tightening before he grimaced. His head tilted slightly before he sighed, harshly.
"I do"
Lucian didn't hesitate to reply as he shot up from his seat "who is he!? Where is he?! Why didn't he-"
A hand, large and red, was held up into his face. Lucian slowly sank back into his chair as the giant's unfortunate reply depressed him.
"I can't answer any of that, not yet" Red solemnly shook his head, "not until you trust the words that come from my mouth"
Lucian's mouth opened then abruptly shut.
He was right. Lucian didn't trust Red.
Not at all.
"Which is why, after I do a touch of fortune telling" Red gestured at the covered cards, "we organise a way for us to build some trust in one another"
Lucian wanted to ask about the second half of Red's statement, but the curiosity he had for the cards seeped in first.
"Fortune telling" he flatly declared, "I thought you said you were a scholar?"
"And a Sorcerer" Red declared hotly, "one a fair bit more skilled than you are!"
Lucian just glared, but his eyes fixed down to the cards.
"How does it work?"
"The Emperor's tarot is quite simple… for a Psyker. Do you know how to draw upon the powers of the warp?"
"Uhh" Lucian answered, remembering the three rules that Vownus had instilled upon him, in order to remain protected "I know how to do it safely"
Red's eye dropped in half lidded exasperation and disappointment.
"I just said-!" he sighed, muttering as he hissed out "Damned Inquisitor".
Red reached forward at Lucian's face "Hold still"
Even though he twitched initially, about to fling himself away from the Red hand that approached his skull, Lucian remained still.
Red's gigantic palm closed on the youth's head.
Lucian shivered as a tight coldness passed from his toes to his head, shooting out the tips of his fingers and causing the hairs at the back of his neck to stand on end.
"Close your eyes," Red said calmly "Track this feeling, recall where it is coming from"
Lucian obeyed, his mind settling on the odd sensation.
He recalled feeling this before… in the jail cell in Helios. The metal box of a room he had been kept in before the old Inquisitor had angered him…
Red's hand retracted, and the feeling fell away.
Lucian opened his eyes as the giant said to him, "that is what it feels like to draw upon the Warp. That is the only way to know you are doing it right"
Red gestured to the cards, "and if you want to know your fortunes, pull the warp through yourself, and through these cards"
Lucian blinked up at the giant, for a second, lost at whatever he was supposed to do.
Red smiled slightly at the blatant confusion.
"Consider this your first ever, useful, practical lesson"
In the next second, Lucian had his eyes closed and his mind searching for the odd feeling of intentional control over the Immaterium.
In a moment, he found it, pulling on the cold expanse that lay beyond rational comprehension. This was the same feeling that Red had just allowed him to grasp an understanding of.
"Good. Now, guide the feeling through the cards… slowly…"
But now Lucian knew how to do it.
He commanded the warp. And by his will, the youth forced it through the cards with but a thought.
The cards shuddered a second before they flipped over.
"Well done," Red exclaimed softly.
Lucian ceased pulling upon the Warp, opening his eyes to the now displayed cards and the contemplative giant. Red was gazing upon the cards, his chiseled and defined face morphing into a look that could only suggest he was deep in thought.
They shared a moment or two in silence.
Lucian was the one who broke it.
"So…. what do these mean?"
Red blinked, his gaze finally stepping away from the cards and to Lucian's befuddled features.
"Well" he gestured to the group of three, starting on the card on the far left, "this is The Young Warrior"
Lucian looked down at the card, studying it and its depiction of a young man covered in woven cloth, a short silver sword in his hand. This young man had short blond hair and determined eyes, something that really stood out against the forest like background the image was impressed upon.
"This card is you. It signals not only your potential to war, but of a natural predilection to strive outward into the unknown. The card also suggests innate bravery, an aspect of you I've yet to witness"
"Hey!"
Red ignored the outcry, instead raising a finger and denoting in a wise tone "you are young, and have just started on the path you are destined to walk. There are many directions you may take, many challenges you may have to overcome… but know that when the time comes to make a decision, you will stand tall against any and all adversity"
The giant swept his articulating hand down to the card on the right of the trio, ignoring the lightly twinkling dots of the middle card.
This one depicted a beast.
A monster.
A creature with a cackling mouth of razor sharp teeth, red flame dancing upon its form and within its eyes. Clawed hands held a skull and a crumbled Imperial Aquila, prostrating them high into the air under a bright light.
Somehow, the very image of the card managed to create Nausea within Lucian.
"The Daemon…" Red declared, naming the evil card for Lucian's benefit, "the discourse of the universe. The hatred, agony, deception and corruption at the base of everything… this card, and how it is positioned would be your foe. At every fork in the road, young Lucian… you will be beset by all these things, hounded by them in order to deliver failure upon you. The inherent nature of both The Young Warrior and The Daemon will put you at odds with those captured by such ideals, regardless of what Faith or Justification they may have for these attributes"
The sharpened nail of his index finger tapped the card between them.
Made of many sparkling dots and celestial bodies, Lucian figured out the name of the card before Red even spoke it.
"The Galaxy. Seemingly straightforward, but quite serious when pitted between yourself and your adversary. This card is everything, and everyone. It is the total summation of everything in existence. And with the card in this configuration… These are the stakes. The battle between yourself and your foes will determine the being which controls the universe"
Definitions and explanations delivered, Red swiped the cards up, pulling the two that were stacked together.
"The silver door" was on top of, "the Pilgrim"
Red frowned.
"Not a good pair to get… not good at all" he shook his head.
"You dealt them!" Lucian snapped hotly.
Immediately, Red grabbed the deck, flipped it over and spread out all the cards in front of him.
Lucian blinked.
"...huh?"
The cards were all blank. An empty white slate when faced up and to the sky.
"The true form of the Emperor's Tarot, not that gimmick grox shit some of the Ecclesiarchy would have you believe, is a Psyker's tool" Red explained, "only when the Immaterium reacts with it, does it gain form. Anything else is just manipulative card mechanics designed to convince and deceive"
In further explanation, Red drew one of the cards and pointed its blank face side at Lucian.
A frosty channel of the warp sparked in the space between the two of them, and Lucian watched as the card began to take form.
It showed a-
Red snapped it down.
"Hey!" Lucian complained, unable to get a good look at the card. It had people in it, two children and two-
The giant tapped down at the cards again, attempting to redirect Lucian's attention.
"We can talk about my own future another time. But for now, I'd like to finish telling you yours before I go"
Lucian grumbled, but finally said, "fine. So the Pilgrim and the Silver Door..."
Red nodded, "the Pilgrim is a representation of a journey; a great distance that must be crossed physically, mentally, or even spiritually. It is a sign of a beginning, the first step taken toward something larger than one's self… however, with the Silver Door on top of it…"
His sudden hesitance was recognised by the youth. Red obviously didn't know how best to say this.
"Just spit it out" Lucian huffed, "I'm not a child"
Red's eyebrow twitched upward in skepticism.
"I'm not" Lucian doubled down, "I can handle it"
"Very well" Red conceded, "the Silver Door is the veil between life and death, the invisible passage to the afterlife, if you believe in such a thing. When placed upon the Pilgrim, it means that this journey you have undertaken… you will not return from it"
Red and Lucian gazed at one another.
Silence held the space between them for a handful of minutes.
"I thought you said I couldn't die"
"I said you couldn't die so easily. There's a distinct difference" Red tapped the card, the Silver Door, "the end of this journey, will seemingly be the end of you"
Lucian looked down to the cards.
The Pilgrim was an image of a bandaged and tattered person, marching across a desert. Blistered hands clutched a staff as wind pelted at him. His stance and gaze were locked in a rigour of determination, battling nature itself in order to proceed.
The other card, which partly obscured that image, was the Silver Door.
As it's name decreed, the image depicted a simple door, cast of a bright silver against a black background.
The door however, was partially cracked open. It was revealing a sliver of bright light, emanating from beyond its surface.
'These two supposedly doom my future' Lucian thought to himself.
"And lastly… a card I haven't seen in a long time" Red pushed the other cards away, and picked up the last one, placing it before Lucian in its flipped orientation.
"I last saw this card when I read one of my Brother's fortunes" Red explained, "it is The Despoiler"
A shiver ran up Lucian's spine as he gazed upon the card. Not at the concept that there were more people like 'Red', but merely at the content depicted by the card.
Even upside down, its image was clear.
An armored figure, placed against the backdrop of a burning universe, a sneer of cold command and malignant malice plastered across his face… surrounding him, the screaming faces of billions of souls are connected into a fine mist. In one viciously powerful hand, the image of a planet is crumbling between strained fingers. Blood drips from his other clawed hand, claws that Lucian knows quite well.
"Inverted"
Lucian looked up at Red's audible note.
"This would mean that you are the very antithesis of this being… you, Lucian, are to be his rival and adversary. You are to be the one to stop this monster's mad rampage"
Lucian blinked.
"So uh… who exactly is The Despoiler?"
Red pinched the brow of his nose as he closed his eye with a sigh.
"You'll know"
"But-"
"You will know"
Just like that, the light of the sun seemed to triple in intensity, washing across the both of them with a bright glare.
While Lucian gripped at his face, Red declared with some grim finality.
"Time for me to go"
Looking to the boy, he reached out with his hand, the simple gesture gaining a far stronger meaning as he spoke, the light continuing to increase in its brightness.
"If you want to speak more Lucian… if you want to hear from me again, to learn and to improve… all you have to do is shake my hand"
The table melted away.
As Lucian stood, he saw how the world around him began to disappear and dissolve, vanishing under the brightness of the sun.
The golden grains, shredded by the light.
The brown and crumbling dirt, swallowed by the iridescent glow
Yet Red remained, his hand outstretched and a soft smile on his face.
It was that look alone which pushed Lucian's decision.
Against half of his brain shouting warnings, and the other half supporting him, against everything he'd learnt up until this very moment…
Lucian decided to make a choice for himself.
For once in his life, he made a decision based on his own conclusions, his own thoughts, and his own rationale.
As he gripped the giant's hand, the world disappeared.
A deal was struck.
"See you soon, Lucian"
The blinding light subsided, and Caius slowly lowered his hand to gaze upon Lucian's body.
An eerie quiet settled for a moment, the sudden lack of radiance driving a wedge of fear into Caius' mind. He couldn't help the sudden wave of nervousness that prompted an immediate desire to retrieve Vownus or Lynwood, especially when-
Lucian's body sat upright with a violent gasp.
"HUUAAAAAAAAA!"
"AHHHH!"
Caius couldn't help the brief scream that came from his lips at the former corpse's loud intake of air and sudden movement.
Naked and panting, the previously dead body of Lucian shook its head, glanced around the cold Mortuary table it had been resting upon.
It's eyes, no longer the calm verdant blue they had been, slowly settled on Caius.
The Agent's heart was pounding within his chest.
He dare not take a breath as the now golden eyed dead body looked him up and down. It's mouth slowly dropped open as it uttered its first words.
"Caius?"
In the end, the Helios native called for backup.
What else would he have done?
The boy had seemingly risen from the grave.
AN: Thank you all for the reviews! I'm sorry it's taking so long, but this isn't exactly the shortest story I've ever tackled, nor is it one that will rush over things. I've grown a little disconnect with the tales that have time skips in them (and I am especially guilty of that), so if there is to be character development, it will not be touched upon in flashbacks or that kinda bs. You will see them change, you will see them develop.
Orks have been locked in, so prepare yourself for as lore accurate as I can get with the green scourge. Also, I know loads of light hearted stuff has occured, and it serves to break from the doom and gloom... but I do believe that the nature of 40k cannot be truly expressed without the grimdark. So for every positive, there will be double as many negatives... things may seem good now, but I won't apologise for what happens later. Consider this a warning for those of you that are light hearted.
All the love and thanks in the world!
-Freedom