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/transition to realspace: success
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/supplication litany completed
/permissions granted; accessing the archive…
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/processing available information
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/relevant records accessed
+++location: Segmentum Obscurus; Scarus Sector+++
+++system: Carralos; planets: 4; moons: 7
+++/query: habitable planets
+++search results: 1 entry
++++planet: Carralos II
+++++designation: feudal world / last overridden in 772.M36; previous entry: mining world
+++++significance: negligible / last overridden in 772.M36; previous entry: high
+++++current population: 17 million
+++++characteristic: colonized in corrupted entry and designated as a mining world. Frequent interstellar movement introduced various exoplanetary flora and fauna. Exhausting natural resources and outbreak of redacted in 694.M36 led to a dramatic decrease in population, isolation and degradation of technological level. Frequently visited by Rogue Trader clans, profiting from salvaged industrial equipment and utilizing it as a staging post for expeditions into Calyx Expanse.
…
…
+++report 11a43 confirmed+++
+++evaluation: continued existence of the system is an affront to Omnissiah.
+++/deploying countermeasures
…
…
…
+++countermeasures inbound+++
"I'd pay you 10 thrones for the cat."
"Which one, my Lord?" the merchant answered, his face impassive, yet a sudden spike in emotions betrayed his hopes for a good deal with a naive young master.
"All of them, of course," the eldar answered with a hint of annoyance. His posture shifted, in mockery of the interlocutor's intelligence, not that the xeno noticed.
I cocked my head in amusement. The merchants of House Eldren were known for their efforts to subtly interact with lesser races. Most even made a point to learn their languages, instead of utilizing devices designed for automatic translation. Still, with the multitude of crude dialects used by humans, even if all of them were known collectively as a 'Low Gothic', it was hard, even for Asuryani, to communicate without misunderstandings.
The young noble was on his first trading foray and it showed. But even inexperienced, he was still a better company than the traders of House Praie, whom I had the misfortune to assist a few times. Not only arrogant to the extreme, they also forfeited usage of the holo-disguise, seeing it below themselves. And denying to everyone assisting them the satisfaction of fooling lesser races as well as causing needless conflicts.
As for our location, we were currently in one of the larger towns of the planet called Carralos II by the humans. A primitive village really, even when compared to cities of Exodites, but, as it was inhabited by xenos, its primitiveness could only be settled in its favor.
Carralos II wasn't as polluted as more 'advanced' worlds of the Imperium, it also lacked the general sense of oppression and hopelessness so common to them. Moreover, the density of the population made listening to the ruckus they caused somewhat manageable.
On the craftworld, voices formed the music, with each Asuryani instinctively changing his pitch and tone to not interfere with conversations of the others. The humans seemed obvious to this basic decency, able only to scream louder, trying to be on the forefront of the resulting cacophony.
Just one of the many things that I started to truly appreciate on Il'sariadh only after witnessing the wider universe first hand.
Moreover, on Carralos II, which lacked both the technology and actual interest from the administration of the Imperium, the possibility of encountering someone able to out us as the eldar despite the holo-disguise was abysmal.
Still, abysmal didn't mean none. Because of that our expedition was assisted by the usual group of warriors as a precaution. Despite being mostly backward, this part of the world was widely known as a meeting ground for various rogue traders (otherwise it wouldn't be to our interest either), so venturing there without such precaution would be ridiculous.
My musings about the humans were interrupted by me-botanist briefly wondering about the properties of the local flora I collected. I entertained the idea for a while, waiting for the merchants to finish their haggling.
It was obvious to me which animal caught the attention of the noble. Out of seven felines, only a single one had a faint psychic presence; a gyrinx. The eldar masked his interest, offering to buy all of them, trying to get a better price.
I would just ask the merchant, offer him half, and start haggling from there.
His tactic was probably better; it ought to be. After all, I wasn't the one who cared about the expanses made by the craftworld, nor about the vaults of his family. He was on the Path of the Merchant and I was on the Path of the Thought-Talker.
It was a discipline I have chosen out of desire to experience the outside world. Not a typical reasoning - to fulfill it my friends expected me to become an explorer, a mariner, even a wanderer. Some imagined me joining an Exodite World for a time.
However none of those Paths resonated with me.
They might have worked, yet the experiences they'd brought would remain dulled, not complete. How could they be, when one was still forced to ignore a part of his senses? I required a Path which would give me both a degree of independence, as well as the means to safely taste what was a stolen birthright of every eldar.
Becoming a thought-talker was the answer.
The Path could be trodden two-folds; less commonly, it would be a specialization of a Seer's Path, with such eldar being a powerful telepath, able to detect, interpret and emulate the minute variations in the mind of every living being.
More often however, thought-talkers were eldar of more mundane background, who were only taking their first, reluctant steps in the direction leading them to understand their psychic abilities.
Such as myself.
In a controlled environment of the craftworld's Dome of Crystal Seers, where the Infinity Circuit and the individual souls of past farseers could offer a measure of protection, I was taught to drop the outermost layer of suppression every eldar learned as a child. In time, I managed to access a slightly larger part of the innate psychic potential which existed to some degree in every eldar, using it to a greater degree than a bare minimum required to operate most of the psychoactive devices used daily.
Under the guidance of an experienced seer, I also learned the thought-patterns associated with a handful of basic runes provided to me; 'reach-to-kin', 'open-yet-closed', 'scorpion-concealment' and most importantly 'self-as-now'.
This kind of training was always undertaken by eldar trying to delve deeper into their psychic abilities - thought-talkers, healers, various wraithbone artisans and engineers being the most common examples - varying by the runes learned.
Only the final rune - self-as-now - was always the same and taught the last, not only allowing the remaining runes to be utilized, but also limiting the psychic abilities of an eldar to those he had already learned when binding it to himself.
By design, after such ritual the eldar would avoid drawing the extra power from the skein, remaining safe from the attention of beings residing here - at least as safe as any Aeldari was since the Fall.
Only after completing that training - which often took passes - the thought-talkers were allowed to leave the craftworld.
As for their abilities, they mainly focused on utilizing ubiquitous wraithbone psychoactive matrixes to communicate on a greater range with fellow craftworlders, often navigating approaching spacecraft to the docks of the worldship, projecting and receiving messages through the webway, or overseeing the tasks requiring minute coordination. The most renowned conductors were usually thought-talkers at some point of their lives, similarly to lead dancers or other group performers.
While most thought-talkers lacked the power and range of a full fledged seer-telepath, they could still fulfill a role of a diplomat or a trader, their training allowing them to better sense emotions and moods of those they interacted with.
The more martially inclined often filled the role of communication officers on the battlefield. On one hand they served as a failsafe when there were other, hostile psykers on the field - instead of projecting the messages in a wide area, where they could be overheard or even maliciously distorted, utilizing thought-talkers as nodes reduced such chances.
On the other hand, when fully focused, they could feed Autarchs with a real time vision of numerous combatants, freeing the seers to perform other tasks. Alternatively, they could assist the combatants by sharing the vision between squad members - letting them perceive things outside their scope of view. A good thought-talker massively increased the capabilities of the squad he supported, a bad one could easily overwhelm them with needless information.
Absentmindedly I reached towards the pouch attached to my mesh armor, feeling the runes between my fingers. Closing eyes for a moment, I focused on myself, hidden by the scorpion, and reached forward. Immediately my senses expanded to nearby wraithbone receivers embedded in everyone's armors.
In another village, a different Asuryani merchant radiated satisfaction, observing locals loading ores on the grav-cart. This one was disguised as the 'man of the sky', the natives' name for visiting rogue traders; a more sensible choice than pretending to be a local like the merchant standing near myself. His ores would probably be exchanged for dragon meat, or some other delicacy, from a nearby exodite world.
The guardians seemed mostly bored as they operated the cart, allowing themselves to be distracted by their main Paths. Their presence was in stark opposition to the attentiveness and tightly leashed anger of the concealed Aspect Warriors spreaded around the area.
Curiously, the imprint left by one of the Dire Avengers was different - more agitated and annoyed. Touching another rune, I projected my mind closer to him. There was no resistance; the warrior was allowing me to experience what he witnessed, albeit I had to maintain my focus on the 'open-yet-closed' rune to not become tainted by his anger.
He was an inexperienced warrior, easily swayed by the urges of his war mask. It was a miracle that he decided to engage in an attempt to trade with a local jewelcrafter, even if his persuasive attempts felt more like an attempt at extortion.
With a mental sigh, I remembered words of my father; that we were often seen by xenos as an oppressively arrogant and haughty, or outright hostile, race.
Ha, their nerve to judge us, to mistake the simple truth that we are better for arrogance.
The Dominion we've created lasted for more than 500000 arcs, none of their civilisations managed even a fraction of that. We were never defeated by xenos, our fall was by our hands solely. Even a shadow of what we were, we have every right to our pride. Even broken, we remain unbowed and undefeated.
Moreover, contrary to what those xenos might have believed, or could have read in their helplessly tampered and badly maintained records, such impression stemmed from their ignorance, for they might have interacted with an eldar many times, only to never find out.
When they have known they encountered us, it usually meant contact with Aspect Warriors or Warlocks. The eldar trained to spill the blood of the xenos to protect their craftworld. Soldiers embracing their hate, anger and dark passions, venting them into war masks to swiftly respond to any hostility that might ensue.
Of course it wasn't pleasant to interact with an annoying xeno in such a state of mind. Hence the groundless stigma; not that many Asuryani would actually care.
Not even a heartbeat passed during my musings.
I delicately urged the Aspect Warrior - Ylirr - communicating my desire to show me what caught his attention. He turned his head slightly, and I felt a cold fury.
It wasn't his - the rune isolating us still held strong. I swiftly quashed the emotion, storing it in the recess of the mind, amongst numerous memories and feelings that would have to be addressed later; ventures with House Praie being a huge part of the pile.
Immediately, I cast my thoughts towards the merchant who just finished buying ores - he was the closest one. I projected the location of Ylirr - a crude building with anachronistic scope of jewelry - surely the influence of rogue traders - ranging from designs primitive for even the mon-keigh to baubles which might have caught the eye of an eccentric Aeldari. And between those trashes the filthy ape placed three spirit stones, fashioned for a set of necklace and earrings.
I ensured Ylirr that help was on the way.
Breaking the connection I saw Eldren finally managed to buy the gyrinx. There was a visible smile on his face, both illusory and real, the youth radiating with pride.
"You've found a magnificent creature, all the more impressive for it being your first trading foray," I told him as we walked through the town, his Path urging him to search for more trading opportunities. "Maybe it won't be the most important gain for the craftworld, but surely a valuable one."
I stopped, feeling a sudden tug on my mind. It wasn't any of the eldar from our expedition, but someone I wasn't attuned to. Taking a breath to center myself, I shielded myself with runes and cautiously probed the presence.
A seer from Il'sariadh.
Many on the craftworld looked at seers with a mixture of reverence and fear. Unfathomable Asuryani, reading the fate and bending it for the good of the worldship.
I was like them, once, yet with my training as a thought-talker, their mystery wore down a bit. Some still remained inapprehensible and distant, but in many I learned to see just another eldar, influenced by trials and boons of the Path he follows.
Still, despite my demystification of them, the fact remains: there is no such thing as an accidental meeting with a seer. And when one tries to contact you unexpectedly, they won't bear good news.
His message was frantic - an image of grave danger approaching, a vision of four Wave Serpents already inbound from the webway portal. We quickly assigned the pickup points for the whole expedition. It took only seconds from the initial contact to passing the coordinates to the whole expedition; something that couldn't have been achieved by relying on crude communication methods used by other races.
+Do we have time to retrieve the spirit stones?+ I projected the question along with the location of Ylirr and the merchant who was still quite far from the warrior.
The answer came tinted with anger - either due to mon-keigh sacrilege or directed towards me for belittling the urgency of the warning.
+No time, you have to leave now, all else is irrelevant,+ the message was reinforced with a vision of raging flames encompassing the whole city, leaving only churned remains.
I was halfway through conveying the answer to Ylirr when the warrior had his shuriken catapult readied.
Through the sensors of his helmet I watched silvery mist leaving the weapon's barrel.
Me-botanist marveled briefly at the fleeting artistry of thin, monofilament blades crossing the air in thousands, reminiscing feathered seeds of dandelion on the wind.
Me-composer admired the brief overture of whistles, emotiveness of a barely audible and immediately severed yelp, replaced with a terrifying thud finishing the brief story that was the mon-keigh's life.
A silvery mist turned into a beautiful red haze that was suspended in the air for a moment, forming artful patterns before fading away to reveal ugly, lying chunks of meat.
Me-dreamer was already burning this image into my mind, saving it amongst the other memories ready to be used as a meme-dream.
Me-awakened urged me to create such artistry with my own hands.
Such thoughts were unbecoming for someone of my Paths. Lacking prior experience as a warrior, dwelling on them for too long was bound to be dangerous. With a quick mnemonic chant learned by every Asuryani when they first took their guardian training, I severed the stream of thoughts and pushed it into the growing pit in the recess of my mind, sensing that the time to confront Khaine's legacy was approaching fast, lest I become consumed by it.
In realspace, I rushed through the town, my mind aware of Ylirr leaving the jewelry store with the spirit stones, sprinting towards his own pick-up point.
"What's going on? Why the haste?" the young Eldren asked me, already out of breath, a caged gyrinx loudly proclaiming his dissatisfaction for the treatment it received, as the youth struggled to carry it.
Guess nobility comes without the need to maintain the bare minimum of physical fitness.
The town was calm. Actually, it was our mad dash through pedestrians and carriages that was the most disturbing element.
"We'll find out soon. Or not. Depends on the seer. Keep up, the plaza is just around that corner."
I already felt the presence of two eldar there. Both chose to hide between the buildings, wary of the vague nature of the danger predicted by the seer. A disciplined mind of a Dire Avenger and the other one.
I internally grimaced.
Of course it had to be her. I knew it; after all I told her to take this gathering point. It was the only one she'd make in time.
I just really disliked working with the outcasts. Touching their minds was a far different experience than of a regular, Path-abiding Asuryani; thoughts they projected outwards were more erratic and dangerous. Yes, frivolity when idle was a trait deeply ingrained in the nature of Aeldari, yet we maintained a clear purpose of the task whenever it was required. Outcasts lacked such focus, being prone to distraction and irresponsibility.
Only Harlequins were worse… or at least it was said so amongst the thought-talkers.
Hah. They just never met Fia. That, or she's a Troupe Master in hiding.
+I'm disappointed. When I received your transmission I hoped it was a ploy for us to spend some time together.+
The moment she felt my focus on her, Fia already projected her thoughts back.
+Or at least set up with that guy here. But a silent warrior is not really my type. A stealthy one, yes; playing the game of hide-and-seek, it could be alluring, but silent? Nah. A pity that too many people mistake one for another. Better remember it.+
I've learned that the best way to deal with her remarks was to ignore them.
"Another merchant and two guardians will join us in a moment. That'll be everyone for our transport," I said aloud when we reached them, receiving a nod of affirmation from the Aspect Warrior and Fia's mock-hurtful expression, making me smirk against my will.
"Khaine's fiery balls, it's getting awfully hot there," Eldren complained, panting.
I looked at him quizzically.
"The youth is right," Fia said. "I've been to this world a few times. A dozen degrees rise in temperature within a few minutes is abnormal."
I briefly glanced up towards the sky. I recalled the view of the horizon as it was when we left the webway portal and frowned.
"The sun seems much bigger than before. And brighter. Even accounting for the planet's orbit, such a thing shouldn't be possible."
The ranger examined the star.
+Do you know that exodites of Triwath consider stargazing an important bonding experience for young couples? Should I take it as an invitation?+ she projected to me before saying aloud: "Yes, I can see it too. The change is from the activity of the solar flares around the corona…"
She hesitated.
"Though there is a faint, irregular halo, as if a spike protruding far on the one side. That is curious…"
Her musings were interrupted by the arrival of the remaining Asuryani, soon followed by panicked cries of xenos coming from the other side of the plaza.
"At ease," I gestured for the warriors to lower their weapons. "It's just our transport."
A Wave Serpent whisked along the town's main artery, the vehicle's anti-grav engines propelling it at speeds otherwise impossible on badly maintained cobblestone roads, its pilot unheeding to the throngs of the humans on its way.
Some managed to vacate the space for its passage, stragglers were met with a rippling wave of energy projected just in front of the vehicle's bow, the graceful wraithbone transport leaving a bloody trail in its wake.
"Move, now," I called as the vehicle drifted and made a swift 180 degree turn, opening its rear ramp for us to enter.
As soon as it closed behind us the Wave Serpent immediately sped again.
"At least a respite from that perpetual racket," one of the guardians sighed.
Most of our group relaxed, but I was not ready to simply sink in a seat and enjoy the relative comfort of the travel in the half-filled twelve person craft.
I grabbed a small crystal dome of the vehicle's matrix, my senses attaching themselves to its various systems. I felt vague impacts of primitive weapons harmlessly dispersing on the Serpent Shield focused at the vehicle's front. A few stray shots ringed on layers of its protective wraithbone, unable to even scratch the surface.
I could have directed its turret mounted Sierbahn cannon against attackers, but they weren't even a threat worth using the weapon. Within seconds we'll leave their city behind.
There was a solid presence of the pilot, less ephemeral than the rest of the eldar to whom I could reach by utilizing runes as a conduit. All were onboard their transports, heading for the webway portal.
From the entrance, the seer constantly projected both urgency and hope; he believed we still had some time. His feelings were muted now; he must have turned his focus to something else.
Another presence became solid; Fia also attached herself to the transport's matrix.
For once she wasn't being playful, but instead focused her attention on the multiple sensors of the craft; they were steadily reporting an increase of temperature.
I accessed the sensor looking towards the sky and gasped. I shared the thought with her; what she had seen earlier as a faint spike protruding from the sun, was now a white rod of light covered by moving, sickly-green arcs of energy.
+Is it trying to penetrate the star, or rather something is sucking it?+
By the time we passed another human village, the sky was covered with bright red, orange and green streaks of light, a potent aurora dancing in the bright daylight. Panicked humans were searching for shelter, some were collapsing on the ground, covered in sunburns, screaming. I turned off the audio feed.
The Wave Serpent's temperature and radiation sensors were sending multiple alerts. There was tangible haze in the air outside, and soon the planetary flora was visibly withering before catching fire.
A soft hum reverberated inside the transport; it was Fia's. She must have been a fine singer on one of her earlier Paths.
It took me a moment to recognise the piece. An ancient one, but fitting. Dirge for Teloran.
I nodded with approval.
I listened to the song, watching the world burn, ignoring the increasingly worrying status reports from our craft.
For a brief moment I felt as if hearing a thunderous chorus of thousands dying and joining the song through the skeins. I immediately retreated my mind back towards the Wave Serpent, not daring to cast it back to the skeins in face of such a grand catastrophe.
Fiery inferno was raging everywhere around us by now. I felt a pity for all the Paths that I had yet to take, all the experiences that I never had. I thought about my family, my friends.
I didn't have to look down to feel my spirit stone, taking the form of an intricate, almost lavish pendant adorned with multiple runes of protection.
It seemed so fragile now.
When the vehicle would inevitably fail and we follow the dying planet, would the gem persist and offer my soul protection? Granting an eternity of oblivion on the molten rock, unless a chance encounter with my kin returns it to the craftworld? Or will it simply fail, and I'll join the damned taken by She Who Thrists…
Why even struggle and not accept her loving embrace now? It would be so easy, and what it offers would make all my life seem pale in comparison to the experiences awaiting…
+No!+
There was a faint voice always whispering at the edge of the mind, pretending to be one's own thoughts. Now, it gained a vile clarity, a malevolent focus. The connection to the Great Enemy, becoming only more tangible to those Asuryani who pursued psychic talents, was now actively used against me.
I quickly visualized rune patterns, reinforcing defenses of my mind.
+Begone, foul creature, my mind is my own!+
+It is better that you choose to spend eternity with me,+ the voice answered, all pretenses of subtlety abandoned.
In my mind's eye I could see a barely solid figure at the precipice of crossing the weakened barrier between material and immaterial. Its appearance was confounding and impossibly twisted, its hermaphroditic, clawed form both repulsive and intriguing.
+I can make your existence into unending pleasure. Love me, and so would I, you'll never know fear nor sadness again. Surrender yourself, partake in an infinity of ecstasies. Experience everything there is, from depths of pain to passions beyond your comprehension.+
The mind-voice was sweet and persuasive. It saw my hopes and ambitions, and encouraged them. Despite myself, I felt a surge of pleasure from the intimate understanding that this being offered.
+They lie about us. Shackled you in terror, afraid of sensation, of life, of yourself. Powerless, small, worshiping chains binding you. Give yourself to me, and reach the birthright that awaits you…+
+I know what awaits me, and that is why I never surrender!+ I mentally screamed at the thing, using all my willpower to break off the stupor induced by its honey-laced lies.
Immediately, I put another layer of protective barriers between the daemonette and my mind, severing the connection. I was painfully aware of its tries to subvert the meaning of the Self rune, immaterial throbbing within my mind as the defenses shook against the attacks, but as I erected more firm barriers her tries became solely annoying.
Suddenly the attacks stopped; had the fickle creature moved to torment other, less protected targets, trying to use them to gain a foothold in reality? Or is it stalling, trying to get me to lower my guard?
I spent the last minutes of the journey with that thought, until finally came a moment I thought would never happen - the Wave Serpent crossed the entrance to the webway. Immediately, I summoned the image of the Scorpion rune to hide myself once again.
The fiery inferno that was a planet turned into calming, shimmering yellows of a tunnel. The psychic field enclosing the corridor moved constantly, swirling like a kaleidoscope of rainbow colors whenever it crashed with the energies of the warp it held at bay.
Miraculously all transports made it there.
As soon as our vehicle crossed the gate's threshold, the seer activated the runic array he had been preparing while we were evacuating. The portal shut down, and out of many arcane symbols encircling the entrance I could recognise a meaning of the few more mundane - death by fire.
