I really like dreaming. Before Tzeentch decided that I was dreaming too hard and stealing from his realm, dreams were my escape. I could go to places where there wasn't any trouble. My ability to experience lucid dreams was an extra blessing, which I explored happily. My small vacations from reality were very welcome in difficult times, like when you're facing eviction from your apartment.
When I was a kid, I was incredibly imaginative, maybe even moreso than other children. I tended to have one foot in the dream world, and one foot in reality. It was escapism, really, but it definitely made me happier. It was no surprise to anyone that I would immerse myself in fantasy and fiction as I grew up. Windows into worlds that weren't trainwrecks were more comforting than a glass of good bourbon, so books and movies were definitely my thing. One of the movies had been the Wizard of Oz, where I got to see Dorothy be taken away into a magical land where there wasn't any trouble. As a small child, I would sing "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" in the bathtub until my family started making fun of me, so then I just switched to singing in my dreams instead.
In rare and awesome instances I would find myself in Oz, trotting down the Yellow Brick Road with all the showy colors and optimism of a late 1930s Technicolor film feature that was desperately trying to forget that Europe was being consumed by the horrors of war. The land itself would breathe optimism, and no one would tease me for singing there.
Here I was again, and I was so happy! Over the Rainbow and where troubles melted like lemon drops! Except I didn't want to leave and go back to my Aunt Em and Uncle Henry. Reality was for suckers; screw that shit, I thought as I skipped down a road made of golden yellow bricks.
The sky was brilliant shade of sapphire, and picturesque dales and farmlands painted a backdrop of bucolic perfection. This dream, when I had found myself inside of it, was simply the most comforting and wonderful place I could conjure from my subconscious. Here I was with Toto and the Scarecrow! We were off to see the Wizard! I was thinking about asking him for a motorcycle instead of going back home. Why not? Tearing ass like Doomrider around Oz sounded more like my style.
My Ruby Slippers looked great in the vivid unreality of the daytime light of Oz as I skipped around without a care in the world. Toto followed me cheerfully, my ever present little buddy. He wasn't dead or "living on a farm" somewhere like Wolfie. Death or misfortune only touched those who deserved it in this land.
"Golly gosh, I'm getting hungry!" I said.
The Scarecrow touched my shoulder, "Look over yonder. I believe I spy some apple trees!" We had a long way to go before the Emerald City, so some hyper real movie apples would be just swell!
A beautiful grove of gnarled apple trees stood before me. Apples! Oh yay, apples! I thought happily as I approached one of the trees. Usually the trees were grouchy, but they weren't too bright so you could be tricky and make them throw the apples at you which works as well!
I approached the first tree, and reached out to happily pick a huge ripe perfect apple. Something new happened this time, though. When I went to pick the fruit, the tree didn't scold me like a cantankerous old man. In fact, it made a noise that was something like a moan of pleasure. Maybe I just heard it wrong, I thought. I picked another apple, and the same thing occurred. The moan was something out of a bad BDSM porn flick. Like, this tree sounded like it was enjoying this too much. What? I stopped picking fruit and stood there, confused as to what I should do now.
The pause seemed to upset the tree, which moaned in a salacious manner. "What do you think you are doing?" Even worse, when it started talking, its voice was way too sultry. This tree sounded like it belonged in The Rocky Horror Picture Show instead of Oz.
"Beg your pardon? I..."
"Did I tell you to stop, you little whore?" This... wasn't how the dream was supposed to go. I didn't respond, and looked for the Scarecrow and Toto in confusion as to what I should do. Unfortunately, Toto had vanished, and the Scarecrow seemed to have transformed into a perfect golden statue wearing an expression of unimaginable horror. Before I could think about that, the tree began scolding me again, and I turned back around. "You have to be more vigorous in your motions, mistress. I want to experience cruelty. Break my branches like you mean it, mistress!" I saw that a devilish face had formed on the bark of the tree, and had opened its mouth, licking a tongue that looked way too human to be a part of a tree across its wooden lips.
When I didn't respond, the tree called out to its neighbors in the grove. "Mistress had a hunger, but she does not finish my punishment! I am not satisfied, and I deserve to be punished severely!"
"Take pieces off of me, you slut. Make me your bitch! I want to feel my roots quiver in fear at your cruel touch!"
More trees started moaning and screaming in the grove, demanding that I do things to them. This was definitely not right!
"Cut me down and step on me!"
"Strip me of my leaves! Make a cane to spank me!"
"Tear off my bark! Lick my naked trunk raw!"
"Bleed my sap until I am dry, oh mistress!"
I was still too stunned and confused to respond when I felt a vine wrap around my legs and torso. With a tug, I was pulled off my feet and into the air. The original tree had decided to take matters into its own branches. This wasn't how the dream was supposed to go, I thought again in alarm as more ambulatory vines started to bind me. I was then dangled helplessly upside down. As I was suspended, the first tree wore a thoughtful expression, and began talking again.
"We have been such awful trees, and we need to be punished! Her hesitation confuses us, for she plucked apples with exquisite agony. Perhaps we can help her? Maybe she does not know true pain, and cannot torment us in the manner we require, mmm? Perhaps if she experiences it though us, she will stay with us and become our cruel eternal mistress, and punish us forever for our naughty indiscretions!" Oh no.
A vine had wrapped itself around my throat, and it had started to strangle me. "It's okay," the tree said, it's expression twisted in a mocking, sympathetic manner. "I'm kind of a switch anyway. We'll learn together!" No, no, no, no!
As the other trees started to cheer and moan at my terrible fortune, I saw a blue blur race across the Yellow Brick Road. Faster than could be seen, the shape rushed past me, and severed the vines holding me aloft. Outraged wailing rang through my mind from the masochistic apple trees as I topped back to the ground. Before I struck the road headfirst, I was somewhere else.
I was laying in a bed bound with vines and branches. Around my neck, a vine was cutting off my breath, strangling me. I dimly registered a blue man with the head of a bird aggressively cutting and tearing all the branches away. He reached for the vines on my throat, and in a moment of terror and confusion, I recoiled.
"No, no! It's me!" Alberich said, hurriedly looking over his shoulder for more danger. I came to full awareness, and let the Tzaangor free me. His expression let me know that trouble was ongoing, as he continued looking over his shoulder as he extricated me. Once I was freed from the evil vines, I sat up, gasping and clutching at my throat in fright.
"They got into my dreams!" I said, my voice a strangled hiss.
"There are more nightmares outside!" Alberich yelled, using his shining glaive to slash at another aggressive vine coming through the opened window. He was much faster than I had even imagined, and in the pale red light that streamed in from outside, the metal of the glaive actually appeared to be glowing. In between deep breaths, the Tzaangor warned, "We are in danger! Magic lives again! Steel yourself!"
All hell had broken loose, and the landscape was alive! Unnatural red light from an unknown source spilled from the open window, bathing reality in a hellish cast. Coughing, I clutched my bruised throat as I struggled to get my bearings as even more vines snaked into the room, which I let the Tzaangor handle. Another sweep of his blade, the new vines were severed, falling heavily to the ground just inside the open window. From outside, in the direction of the front of the house, I heard strange hissing.
Without stopping, Alberich quickly turned around to confront whatever the noise was outside, leaving me. There wasn't time to put on my riding skirt as even more plants raced in from the window. It dawned on me that I only had that black dagger I had picked up back at the manor as a weapon. I scooped that up, and cut some more animated greenery that had decided to come in and be fresh with me in my bedroom. The dagger was at least razor-sharp, so it was very easy to slice these murderous plants. When no more vines came in through the window, I closed the shutter and locked it. Wolfie popped into existence again next to me with a crackle, and he was barking with excitement. If he was here, then the pylons were inactive!
From here, I could distantly hear Alberich prodigiously swearing outside, and the sounds of a confrontation. He had saved my life, so I had to help him! The Tzaangor sounded like he was holding his own, at least, so I hoped it was just more evil magic vines that I could chop up with my diamond dagger. I mean, if there were daemons we would've been killed already, right? "Come on, boy! Let's go help the bird man!" I said to Wolfie, who raced ahead of me to pounce on an intruding vine just outside the front doorway with major small dog energy. Pumping with adrenaline, I gripped my dagger, and readied myself to play monster gardener as I approached the front door.
I felt pretty dumb when I ran barefoot outside in a long nightshirt while holding my stupid little knife. The bloody light outside was like that of a sleazy underground club, and the evil activity wasn't limited to enchanted plants. Me stepping outside only served to attract the attention of the daemonette that wasn't fighting Alberich. I noped out of that and tried to turn around and run right back inside and shut the door, but the black crab-clawed daemon lady wasn't having her quarry hide that easily, and stuck one of her snippers in the gap of the door before I could close it. She hissed viciously as we struggled, her crab claw ripping a hole in my nice new nightshirt.
"Little pig, little pig, let me in!" The daemonette mocked as I desperately struggled to close the door. What the fuck was I going to do now? I don't have a spear, and I'm really useless in a fight! I took my dagger, and tried to stab at the claw holding the door open. It was then that both of us realized that the windows were both wide open, and the daemon immediately withdrew her claw, laughing evilly, and in a near instant, she had crawled inside the parlor area of the home, knocking aside and breaking the central wooden table, sending the meat and pickle jar flying across the room.
Once inside, she didn't seem like she was in any hurry to feed me my own guts. From what I knew (and had now experienced) about daemons, they really enjoyed seeing mortals in fear, so she probably wanted to savor my hopeless situation before she killed me. I got a chance to study the monster as she leered, savoring my fear. The one inside about to end me was about my height, and had two glossy black scythe-like crab claws. Her skin was pale blue, and she wore a revealing black strappy suit thing that left one breast revealed. Her long silver hair that floated behind her in a tangle of dreadlocks, and a perpetual wicked sneer on her alien face made her look like some kind of banshee. Her eyes were saucer-like, unnaturally wide, and looked to be a faint glowing crimson. The daemonette shook her head, and made a "tsk, tsk," noise. She wasn't going after me yet, and was probably just enjoying my fear for now.
"And here she is, the one known to us as Amnaich's little problem. She has the Key, but refuses to share it with us! Sad! Low energy, people are saying! The little bitch is naked and afraid instead of a great psyker! Perhaps this one will send her soul back to the trees, no? They miss her so! I can hear them call for their mistress! They sing so sweetly!" When she opened her mouth to speak, I spied two rows of piranha teeth.
I took a swipe with my dagger which the daemonette easily dodged, laughing. She also wanted the Key which hung around my neck, but I wasn't giving that up. Anything that daemons wanted that badly wasn't going to end up in their claws, I thought defiantly. "She has expected more! Amnaich has seen into her fears, and witnessed her dreams!" She made a revolting sound like she was Hannibal Lecter craving liver and fava beans.
I took another swipe at her, which she easily ducked again. Fuck, I was dead here if I couldn't find a way out of this! These daemons had violated my dreamworld, and they would now haunt me with it. I couldn't even escape through dreams anymore! The violation of it all disgusted me. This daemonette wasn't even killing me; she was just laughing about how much of a loser I was. I kept my dagger pointed at her, and she resumed mocking me.
She laughed melodiously, clearly enjoying my dismay. "The great Amnaich has seen into the full depths of her soul, and he has seen that she takes refuge in silly children's things! Such a foolish performance of -what was it?- ah, yes, "The Wizard of Oz"! Amnaich is creating a special place for her, one which she has glimpsed already! It will mirror her Heaven and make it a Hell! The only songs will be her eternal screams! Perhaps if she gives the Key to us willingly, we can show her pleasure as well as pain?"
For fuck's sake, I can't have anything can I? I thought with fury, jumping forward with another swipe, this one actually nearly slicing the daemonette's cheek. I began to feel rage boiling under my skin. This was literally Hell. I had died and gone to Hell! These daemons were tormenting me by invading my private dreamscapes!
With that thought as I rushed forward again with my dagger, the daemonette once again dodged my strike, but this time, she was thrown back as if by a wall of force, slamming into the front door with her back and breaking it right off the hinges. The daemonette landed unceremoniously on her rear on the broken door outside. The expression on the daemonette's face let me know that she had been surprised at that. She wore a mask of utter hatred as she sprung back up on sharp hooves and began to make a run for me, clearly looking to kill me now as I stood just inside the doorway, rippling with fury.
"NO!" I shouted, and again, the creature was thrown back, this time all the way to the road. The daemonette sparring with Alberich was momentarily distracted by this, and I saw Alberich take advantage of her diverted attention, enabling him to land a severe blow on her torso with a sickening crunch. His daemonette scream-moaned, while mine actually struggled a bit to right herself. More vines had appeared from a looming tree, and had begun to snake their way over to me as I began to walk toward the road. Wolfie, having dispatched his earlier opponent, was now barking and racing around the grass, savaging and biting more animated vines.
I was really fucking tired of all of this! This really was Hell, I thought again as I stomped barefoot across the grass to where the daemonette was faltering. Even the weird red sky made it look like Hell! "Why...am...I...here?" I gnashed between clenched teeth. Animated hissing vines slithered to entangle me as I stormed down toward the daemonette, but the plants turned to flaming ash when they met my skin. Fuck you, evil plants! What the fuck did I do to deserve this rotten fate? Lost in the fucking 40k universe of all places! Seeing a fucking Keeper of Secrets in the first two hours of being here! I can't even enjoy my own private dreams anymore! My fury was so much that I actually felt it bleeding out of me. There were ashes and embers at my feet, and retribution enflamed my heart. It almost felt as if my blood was made of liquid fire. I had felt something like this briefly when I was hyperventilating in the study back in Evanora's manor, and I had been able to burn up that little desk plant. I smiled evilly, and fixed my eyes on that stupid fucking daemonette, who had dusted herself off, and had started running her dumb mouth again as she straightened back up on her hooves.
"A fluke, a lucky hit from a foolish girl with no magic Ruby Slippers to save her. That's all that th-"
The daemonette was now engulfed in blue flames. "How about a little fire, scarecrow?!" I screamed at her, my voice keening like I was the wickedest witch there ever was. Distantly, I was aware that Alberich's daemonette was wailing in agony and stumbling back while trying to escape from him. He had beaten that bitch. Good for him.
The flaming daemonette actually began to scream in pleasure from the fire. This made me even more upset. Her long hair wasn't igniting so it made a nice easy target for me to grab with whatever psyker energy I was hurling around. I wasn't really thinking here; I was just acting, and I felt myself reach for her hair despite being at least ten feet away. Multiple low hanging vines reached for me from a nearby tree, only to instantly burn when they met my body. Stupid evil plants weren't going to distract me from slaughtering this thot.
With ease, I yanked the creature off her hooves and into the air as she continued to scream and moan. As her hair grappled in my invisible fist, I struck her entire body flat against the ground with a sickening crack. She felt like a Barbie doll in the hands of an angry child to me. I lifted her back up. She was gurgling something from between broken teeth and crisping skin. I laughed at her. "What was that? I'm sorry I didn't catch...that!" I smashed her against the road again, shattering her nasty face against the stones. I did it again. This was really fun! I was finally enjoying myself! Maybe being a psyker wasn't so bad? The moment was ruined when I brought her back up a third time when the daemonette moaned while choking out "Beautiful agony! Destroy me, cruel mistress!" Which reminded me of the trees again. I violently shook her, and on the daemonette's fourth super slam close encounter with the road, the creature actually broke up into a handful of burning chunks which vanished into pink fire. I killed her so completely, and I did it very sweetly! I was left staring at an empty road, hearing Alberich yell, "behind you!" as a vine came snaking up behind me, gripping me by the waist.
Briefly, I was snared and thrown off balance before grabbing the vine and turning it into flaming ash. When I felt a vague touch of mental fatigue hit me, I realized that I probably couldn't keep this psyker rampage up. Alberich ran to me, and he held his glaive out in front of him, protectively. "Stand back to back! We shall slaughter all!" the Tzaangor said, bloodlust creeping into his voice. Wolfie appeared again at my side, and Alberich snarled a challenge at the dog.
"No! That's Wolfie! He's my dog! He's on our side!" I frantically informed the Tzaangor before he could chop the dog in half. The astral hound began madly barking in the direction of the southern road before vanishing again. There was more trouble coming!
In the red light, I got a good look at the landscape. Now I could see where the sickening glare was coming from. It wasn't a moon. There was a small tear in the sky in the area near Amnaich's statue! It writhed like a sickening wound over the settlement and the manor, and distantly, I could see flashes of movement dropping out of it like maggots. Were daemons spilling out of the Warp over there?
Swiftly, another daemonette appeared on the road, riding a strange creature that resembled a pink horse and a velociraptor. I assumed that was a steed of Slaanesh. Its sickening mauve skin looked almost plastic in the evil light, and a long lurid tongue tasted the air ahead of it as it trotted eagerly forward. Before it could reach us, Wolfie materialized in front of us and charged the two daemons, causing the steed to spook and rear up, bucking the daemonette off her mount. Wow! Good boy! Alberich did not waste any time, and leapt to the fallen mount, decapitating it with a mighty overhead blow from his glaive. The dismounted daemonette ignored the Tzaangor, and decided that she wanted to be roasted just like her sister and charged me with manic glee. I heard her cry out, "Hurt me, oh wicked witch!" as she raced to me. Creepy, but I can help you with that, sis. With a backhand and a yell, the charging daemonette was happily set aflame and thrown back, but I now definitely noticed that the incredible energy I had was waning. The daemonette was laughing as Alberich cut her flaming corpse in half.
"What's wrong with the sky? What is that?" the beastman yelled to me standing over a cloud of pink mist. He was pointing to the colorful mess in the stars as a pair of daemonettes began running down the road toward us.
"I don't know! I think its a Warp rift!" I answered while struggling to telekinetically throttle these new daemonettes. Luckily, I was able to pin one to the ground after throwing her on her back, while Alberich rushed the second one. Moving impossibly quickly, Tzaangor managed to brutally impale the daemonette before it burst screaming into pink fire. I stomped my heel barefoot on another intrusive vine as it tried to wrap around my leg. This one didn't turn to ash, but I heard Wolfie snarling behind me, and that vine didn't bother me again. Fed up, I held the daemonette pinned on her back on the ground while I ran to her. Delirious red eyes whirled in excitement as they watched my dagger pierce the pinned daemonette's sternum, and tear into her black innards over and over again. She was soon a shape of pink mist, and I stood up to watch Alberich dodging another steed of Slaanesh, this one riderless. The steed gained a lucky hit with its tongue, and it wrapped around the Tzaangor's torso, who roared in pain. I raced over to cut the appendage binding him, and the tongue snapped like taut rubber band. The abomination fell back, yowling in distress. It began to wildly run about in a panic as Wolfie harried it underfoot it like a border collie from hell. Alberich appeared to be dazed, and was reeling on the ground as the tongue around him disintegrated. He staggered to his feet again, heavily breathing. It appeared that the Tzaangor was also getting tired now. I kept my distance from the panicked daemon mount, who was now trying to stomp on the astral hound, who effortlessly disappeared and reappeared in another place, undaunted. Forcing my lingering energy reserves to obey, I was able to snap one of its legs while Alberich trotted over to the thing and dispatched it.
Alberich lurched back over to me, and aligned himself so that we stood back to back again, watching the road for more running daemonic shapes. The Tzaangor was not doing well, and I could see that he had a large wound on his arm that appeared to be actively bleeding. Wolfie also materialized at my feet, ever ready for more action. The astral hound looked like he was having the time of his life, his little ghost dog halo almost vibrating with excitement. I looked back up at the red sky again. If we were indeed looking at a Warp Rift, then we were in big trouble! Depending on how big it was, Amnaich could squeeze through and be on his way to have the rest of me for lunch. It was taking time for the daemons to reach us from the rift, but they kept coming.
"The fiends spill from the sky! They come from hell itself!" Alberich shouted hoarsely behind me, coming to the same realization.
I studied the road, and it wasn't good. Distantly, there were now several more daemonettes cavorting down the southern road, and a handful of them were on mounts. They would be here any any moment. Behind them, I thought I could see the outlines of a few larger daemons that were advancing more slowly, and I tried not to think about what those things were. This was at least 500 points of Slaanesh on the field and not balanced at all on our end! In a few moments they would be upon us. The wound in the sky was growing larger by the minute, shot through with glowing magentas and violets. Not good at all.
"It was a pleasure to know you in this short time," Alberich rumbled solemnly. "I will see you on the other side!" Well, great.
The lead daemonettes began shouting with feral joy as they charged on their mounts, but when they were nearly on top of us, I felt a terrible ringing in my ear as I was hit by the world's worst migraine. I was brought to my knees kneeling with my left hand clutching my head, and my right hand dropping my dagger. Before I could be eaten by daemons, I became aware that all the monsters had started shrieking, and the ones that had leaped our way literally dissolved like cinders being thrown into the air from a fire. Reeling from my sudden agony, I looked and only saw numerous smears of pink fire where the nearest daemons had been running. My explosive headache still remained, but I was able to see that the sky was now perfectly normal, as if none of that had ever happened. The rift was... gone? Dizzy, I felt Alberich reach around my shoulders, supporting my weight. Both of us were near collapse when led me back inside the house and laid me on the parlor sofa. I heard him closing and latching all the windows after he had leaned his mighty weapon against a corner of the room. With some effort, he picked up the broken door and leaned it against the frame, which was better than nothing I supposed. Squinting, I tried to find where Wolfie had gone, but was not successful.
The Tzaangor entered my field of view as he lit the lantern, and placed it on the ground near the ruins of the table. He was carrying two containers; one was my water flask, and the other was a small glass bottle of a bluish clear liquid. He held my head as he gave me a drink of tepid water, helping me to sit up. "Are you alright?" Alberich asked, his bird face contorted in worry. "What happened out there?"
"I guess the pylons are online again..." I said, trying to bring myself to the present with relief.
"No, I mean, when you burned the woman things. How did you do that?"
"Oh, I'm not sure," I said, in a fugue. My head was killing me, and I could barely keep my eyes open. I began to feel the trickle of a nosebleed running down my lip.
"You are not well; I will help," the Tzaangor nodded and walked of to the kitchen. There, I heard him rifling through what sounded like ceramic cups and plates. I sat mutely staring at his glaive, my energy nearly exhausted. It almost felt like the weapon was staring back at me.
Alberich appeared again holding two small clay cups. Setting them both on the ground, he poured water into both. He then uncorked the small glass bottle, and carefully placed several drops in one cup, and only a couple drops in another. He took the first cup in a shaking bloody clawed hand, and drank it in one draught. He then offered me the second cup.
"What is it?" I asked him as I took the cup, my head throbbing.
"Medicine," he said, flatly.
"What kind of medicine?"
"Do you trust me?" Alberich said, heavily sitting next to me. He also appeared to be exhausted from the encounter. Parts of his shirt had been torn, and I could see numerous small scrapes and wounds over his blue skin. A considerable wound on his right arm that looked like a bite mark from a wild animal was slowly weeping blood.
"Yes?"
"Good. Drink up."
"Just tell me what it is. Last time I drank something from someone without knowing I got poisoned."
There was a short pause. "I found it in the kitchen. The label says "laudanum", and it smells of laudanum. It is a painkiller," he explained.
"Huh, laudanum," I said, looking blearily into the cup. I knew what laudanum was. It was an archaic analgesic tincture made from opium poppies, used before modern times for nearly everything that caused pain. It contained morphine, so if you took too much, you could die. My eyes could barely focus. I really was in a lot of pain, but would I die if I drank this too? Did he pour me too much? I wasn't a Tzaangor. Maybe if I did die, I would end up someplace better? Fuck it, life can't get any worse, I thought. I downed the liquid in one gulp. It was bitter.
"Stay here. I will return," he said. Not like I could really move anyway.
The Tzaangor stood up, and walked to the master bedroom. I heard the sounds of cloth tearing, and shortly afterward, he returned holding a few strips of cloth. He walked to the kitchen again, and I heard the sounds of pouring and splashing. It sounded as if he was cleaning his wounds.
After a short time, Alberich returned and sat down next to me, and I saw that he had cleaned and bandaged his more serious wounds, of which there were two that I could see. He had bandaged the bite mark on his arm, and another smaller wound on his lower leg. By then, my pain was starting to lessen. I had also begun to feel warm and fuzzy, and that everything was going to be alright. Yeah, that's definitely laudanum, I thought. I stretched.
The intense migraine was losing its grip, and I was beginning to feel like I could finally think again. The Tzaangor broke the silence, and asked me again,"Now tell me. What happened out there? The devilesses. You set them aflame."
Oh, that. "I did a good job, didn't I?" I said, reaching for more water and feeling a little intoxicated. It felt nice to feel both my terror and pain melt away. I really didn't want to get into the whole psyker thing because I still didn't really understand it, but Alberich had really saved my life here, so I guessed that a little trust was in order. After taking a drink, I began. "Well, I told you that I came from another world, right?" The Tzaangor nodded. "So, the body I have here, it isn't actually my body, like I said. But, since the woman who owned this body was a serious psyker witch, I'm taking a wild guess that I'm psyker now too. I'm still trying to get a hang of this since I've only been here for about a day. I know it doesn't really make sense, but it happened, and here I am."
"What is a 'psyker'?" Alberich asked, also drinking more water. My tongue felt somewhat loosened by the potion, and I tried to explain myself.
"A psyker is a term for someone with powerful psychic abilities. I actually came from some other reality where there were no psykers or anything like that. This is all new to me. The place I came from had no real magic. Or, I think it had no real magic. But the lady who owned this body before me, she could do magic, so now I can do it. That's my best guess."
The Tzaangor appeared very thoughtful. He nodded, and seemed to be contemplating carefully on how to respond. "I have told you that I came from another place as well," he said. I saw his fists close and open while his jaw clenched. Something was causing him anxiety. "I apologize, but I did not tell you the entire truth. Your story rings similar to my experience. I don't know how or why, but I am not from this strange place also. I feel as if I do not belong here." Alberich turned to me again, touching his face and tracing a claw along the lines of his beak. "You see this face, this bird's head I wear? I was once a human man. The world I lived in had little true magic. My government was doing research into psychotronics to tease every bit of magic out from the unknown, for it would ensure us victory in the ongoing war. I was captured and died in the custody of an enemy, but that was not the end of me. I woke in another man's mutating body on the other side of the continent here. Maddened warlocks were attempting something unholy with this body as the subject, but somehow, their ritual was corrupted, and I was pulled into this form. I was able to escape, the ritual only partly complete, and now, here I am."
"So, you traveled here from another place?" I asked him.
"Yes," he said. "But that isn't all. I had a-"
There was a sudden noise in the general direction of the bedroom. It sounded like a moan of pain. I stood up, my head still swimming. I realized that I had dropped my dagger outside. Alberich was instantly on his feet, rushing to grab his glaive. His expression was half maddened as he held his weapon in front of him in the direction of the bedroom. "Stay behind me," he whispered, beginning to walk into the bedroom. Not wanting to be alone, I picked up the lantern and fell in behind him as he cautiously stepped. Had the pylons deactivated so soonly?
The Tzaangor and I cautiously walked down the short hall to the bedroom, and just as we had reached the doorway, the noise repeated itself. It sounded almost like a word, repeated over and over in a guttural voice.
"Danger... danger... danger..." it said.
Alberich's ears swiveled, pinpointing the sound. In two strides, he walked to the trap door, hooked his glaive under the ring, and opened the entryway into the cellar.
"Danger... danger... danger..."
"Are we really going down there?" I asked the beastman as he looked down into the dark below. His expression was inflamed with exhausted anxiety. None of us were in the mood for this.
"Danger... danger... danger..."
Alberich didn't respond, and I could see his ears were moving as if trying to pinpoint whatever was saying "danger" downstairs.
"Oh," I said, remembering the desiccated corpse we had found.
"The man..." the Tzaangor was still listening. "The dead man. He speaks."
"Danger... danger... danger..."
"But the pylons, they're on. Right?"
Alberich didn't respond. He kneeled down on the ground in preparation for stepping down on the ladder.
"You're going down there?"
"Do you have a better solution?" He asked me, his voice impatient.
"Danger... danger... danger..."
"Yeah, don't go down there," I said. The Tzaangor ignored me, and began stepping down the ladder into the gloom, leaving his glaive on the bedroom floor.
"Give me my weapon and the lantern, please," he said when he reached the cellar floor. His tone wasn't fearful, but it wasn't exactly disarming. His tired face was illuminated by the lantern as I handed it to him. When my hand reached around the haft of his weapon, I got another chill that caused goosebumps to crawl across my skin. There was definitely something up with his glaive, I concluded, as he took it in hand below. I would have to ask him about it later.
From where I was watching from above, I saw Alberich holding his glaive protectively out in front of him, facing where the dead farmer was sitting. I heard the muttered repetition of "Danger... danger... danger..."
"You should come down here," he said, looking up at me. "There's something you should see. There is no danger. The man is dead. Something else speaks."
"Danger... danger... danger... traveler..."
That last word caused alarm, but I then remembered the dead villagers speaking in the village at the base of Amnaich's statue. They had spoken an instruction for me to go to the pylon, and I wondered if the same animating force was at work here.
"I'll probably regret this," I growled, stepping down the ladder to join Alberich.
The Tzaangor didn't move, and was still facing where he was when I stepped into the small, dimly lit cellar space. I looked where he was staring, and saw that the corpse was indeed still there. It hadn't spoken since I started descending the ladder. This time, I noticed a glint of shining metal in the dried mummy's left eye. Startling me, I then saw the bit of metal move, adjusting itself. This dead farmer, just like the cultists, had been mechanically modified. It just hadn't been overtly visible.
"Traveler," it said, clearly; its lips did not move, but the voice still spoke. The artificial nature of the voice became apparent now that I was very close to it. It was as if it was vocalizing out of the dead man's throat instead of him actually speaking. Alberich turned to gauge my reaction to this, but I was as clueless as he.
"Traveler," it repeated once again with a guttural voice of rotted metal, "You must make haste to the tower. You are in danger." It spoke very quickly, as if harried by something.
"Who are you? How... how are you speaking here?"
"I am the one who warned you of danger at Alys. I speak through the technology implanted in the masses. I can explain all when you arrive," the artificial voice had an edge of desperation to it. "You must listen; there is not much time. I cannot stabilize the network forever. I am sending a messenger south to you to meet you along the road. I can help you. I can h-"
The last words were rattled off under increasing distortion before a slight crackle in the throat of the corpse silenced it like the sound of a light bulb shorting out. A vague burning scent filled the air as I felt a peculiar chill wash over me. The Tzaangor looked at me again, questioningly. "I do not understand," Alberich said, standing nearly as still as the dead man seated before us.
Once again, I tried delving into my knowledge of 40k lore to help me out here. I had never been that into Imperial planet lore, and the most I knew about the Cadian pylons was that they stopped magic, nothing more. This planet and its peculiarities were entirely new to me. From what I could see, the mechanical implants that the locals all had here appeared to be able to be remotely accessed by someone, or something. Unfortunately, this didn't narrow much down, since this sort of technology in this universe probably wasn't all that far fetched, used by many different cultures, xenos, and alignments all around the galaxy. I just hoped that whoever was trying to communicate with me wasn't some kind of homicidal xeno.
I honestly did not feel like thinking too much about this because the laudanum was slightly intoxicating me. I cleared my throat and began to attempt an explanation, "So, listen, I think there's someone over at the tower messing around with it, trying to shut the Warp out. When all the people died up next to the statue, some of them started talking to me. Or, I guess their implants did. I don't really know."
"So this has happened before, the speaking dead. Why didn't you say something?" Alberich growled at me while he poked the dead farmer's body with his glaive.
"I don't know, really," I shrugged, apathetic and mildly intoxicated. The light of the lantern made this little dark space appear extra sinister, and I really wanted to go upstairs again. "These cultists, they all committed suicide for that golden god daemon, but when whoever this was shut the Warp down, it saved me. I don't get it, and if I stop to think, I'll lose my mind. Someone is over at that pylon, and that someone prevented me from being killed."
"So someone lures you through the mechanical implants on these people after they die?" Alberich sounded very skeptical. To be fair, I also became skeptical when he put it that way.
"Look man, don't have anywhere else to go. Where else am I going to go after what I've been through? What else do I have left to lose?" I retorted, rubbing my temples. It was the sad truth.
The Tzaangor was still investigating the mummified farmer when I began climbing up the ladder while I muttered "screw this". It was very dark up here without the lantern, so I just sat on the bed and waited for Alberich to get bored with examining the corpse. I could dimly make out some of the severed vines sprawling on the wooden floor like black snakes. The laudanum was diverting my ongoing existential terror into a sort of gallows humor. Internally laughing at the absurdity of it all, I laid down on my back on the bed and closed my eyes, willing reality to go away. This feels like I'm stuck in a bad fanfiction. In some of the other fics I had read, people got to be primarchs or sassy rogue traders. Why couldn't I be a primarch, huh? Being an unstable neurotic rage psyker had way too many drawbacks. Why couldn't the writer of my fanfiction give me some manageable Mary Sue powers to make this a little easier?
"Because this is far more interesting, dearest."
Despite only hearing it once before, I recognized that unearthly polyphonic voice. My eyes snapped open, and I sat up. He was right there, leaning against the door frame, holding a small porcelain coffee cup. He wore a mischievous grin.
"Are you enjoying my Hell? Let's have a chat!" Tzeentch cooed, demurely sipping his drink as the shadows leapt out from every corner of the room to devour me.
