A/N: Thank you Nalka for taking a look through the Eldar portions of this side-story.
9 long eared, tall beautiful men and women stood around a holographic projection table made of polished bone-like material. A 10th sat, boredly, outside the circle they formed.
This is the Seer chamber of Craftworld Iyanden, the largest and most populated Craftworld created by the Aeldari. The populace now call themselves Eldar, dropping the first and last letters of their species name to symbolize the ending of all that they were and all that they could be, leaving their kind in limbo; unsure of which path to proceed as a species.
"Have all the others been accounted for?" Farseer Mehlendri Silversoul asked the Council of Seers, the current governing body of the Craftworld. She was one of the oldest Eldar aboard the Craftworld, having been there since before the first seed of its construction was laid. Despite her gender, she was one of the tallest among them, and her red hair flowed down her back like liquid fire.
The council was composed of 5 women and 4 men, including Mehlendri. They were the Seers in charge of steering the direction of the Craftworld, figuratively and literally.
"We were the last of the 5, Farseer Mehlendri." Farseer Aelondra sighed as she brushed her crimson hair over one ear. "The others have long since left before us."
"Though it seems that did not guarantee their safety." Farseer Thulor snorted irritably, rubbing his temples. "Ulthwé's course has led it on a damned path to our past." His smooth black hair flowed over his shoulders like silk.
Thousands of Craftworlds left the Aeldari empire before the Fall. Of all them, 5 were the largest and of particular note.
Where the average Craftworld may hold anywhere from a few thousand to a few hundred million, these held tens of billions of survivors from either entire planets, or several star systems. With time, they would be able to grow their capacity and size to house even more.
In the order of their departure:
Saim-Hann; the Craftworld that shared the name of the Void Serpent, the friend of Cegorach. It was one of the first Craftworlds to leave the rest of its species behind. Their chosen name being synonyms with enlightenment is evidence enough of what they think of themselves, but enlightenment is not equivalent to sophistry or civility. They are a wild society, sharing more with the Exodites and the Harlequin than the other Eldar Craftworlders. Their racial pride remains intact and untainted by She who Thirsts, allowing them to be unblinded by it.
Ulthwé; the damned Craftworld, the Craftworld which uses the Eye of Isha as their world-rune. Despite escaping the Fall, their flight did not take them far. Now, the Eye of Terror's gravitic tendrils cling to the Wraithbone of the ship itself. All it can do is orbit the hole where insanity spills forth, but it does not do so in vain. Ulthwé remembers its species duty to destroy the Necrons, and it is for that reason its path led it so close to the Eye of Terror. However, all that means for the Eldar aboard it is that both new horrors and old nightmares surround them in the blackness of space as they pass perilously close to Necron Tomb Worlds.
Biel-Tan; the most militaristic of the Craftworlds whose world-rune is a heart above a stylized chalice, the symbol of their ability to reincarnate. As can be seen by what they most miss in their world-rune, Biel-Tan's objective is to return to what the Eldar once were. The Fall to them is a battle that has been lost, and now they plan to wage war to take back what is rightfully theirs. Naturally, that involves violence, and as that is the sole solution they see to their predicament, every other problem is dealt with in the same way.
Alaitoc; the Craftworld with the world-rune of a sword piercing a red crescent moon; the symbol of Khaine slaying Eldanesh. Their symbol is a harsh reminder of the Aeldari's civil war, and the dangers of going against their gods. For despite Eldanesh's many gifts and blessings, it was his blood that coated Khaine's hands in the end. They are the most puritanical of the Craftworlds, but they are merciful with their methods of removing what they see as taint. Eldar unable to deal with the strict rules and regulations often enter self-imposed exile to prevent their temptations from tainting others. In addition to supplies and ships for their journey away from home, these exiles are guaranteed the opportunity to rejoin the Craftworld whenever they are ready to relinquish that which drove them away in the first place.
The last Craftworld is Iyanden, the largest and the last Craftworld to leave the Core Worlds. Their lateness was not born of laziness or a lack of foresight. They stayed as long as they could to take as many as possible before finally abandoning everything they could not carry. Their mission was the restoration of the Aeldari Empire, and that would require as many non-tainted Aeldari from as many expertises, specialties, and talents as possible. The selection process was slow, and required many revisions. Practicality and purity were both balanced against each other many times, and it was for that reason they continued to do what they could up to the last minute.
Now, the Farseers of Iyanden were inspecting the damage from the disaster they knew would come. However, even in their most depressing nightmares, they could not have imagined the diabolical nature of what came for them.
"Thulor, Aelondra." Another more senior brown haired male Farseer, Farseer Tyrios, called the names of the two who had just spoken in a cautionary tone. "Khaine's song rings in your voices. The Craftworlds all agreed during their inception to allow each to choose the path for their people, purpose, and politics. Mutual respect must be maintained."
The 9 Eldar on the Seer Council come from three different generations.
The three oldest came from the Core Worlds themselves, and are the ones who envisioned the Craftworlds in the beginning. Their role in the council is to serve as both teacher and mediator of the discussions of fate. They lead through example, as well as experience.
The middling three come from the generation that joined the Craftworlds during their construction, either through recruitment or due to becoming disillusioned from their activist activities after all their warnings and efforts fell on deaf ears. They were not yet ready to teach, but could see the future well enough to make concrete decisions.
The youngest three were born within the sequestered enclaves of the original activists. They had not experienced their first death, nor were they allowed to experience the decadence of the rest of their kind. Their role here was the same as it is in any society, to question the older generations as well as introduce new concepts and ideas to ensure conservative tendencies do not hamper their collective vision.
Thulor and Aelondra are 2 of the 3 youngest Eldar Farseers, and although ancient by human standards they are still occasionally chastised by the older Fareers like newly promoted general managers receiving a lecture from even more experienced executives.
"... My apologies Farseer Tyrios." Thulor bowed his head after a moment of silence. "The portents of Kher-Ys and the Shard of Khaine have been taking much from me."
"I share the same worries." Aelondra stated, also bowing her head in apology. "My heart breaks every day Kher-Ys fate remains unchanged despite all we do. I blotted them and all the other minor Craftworlds from my mind so I would be temporarily blind to their suffering."
"I feel your pain." Tyrios nodded. "The future is bleak for us. Many of the minor Craftworlds may not make it, no matter what we do. Even so, we must See their fate. There is much we can learn from their loss, and even if there is nothing we can do and nothing we can learn, at least we can keep them with us in our memories."
Besides the 5 major Craftworlds, thousands of minor Craftworlds also exist. Smaller than the main 5, these Craftworlds vary greatly in shape, size, and societal norms.
Kher-Ys is one of these minor Craftworlds, and the prophecies around it are grim.
"The Seers of Kher-Ys saw the same thing as us, last time we spoke using the Webway." A masked male Farseer with silver hair, the last of the oldest group of Seers, Farseer Ulrissor, said with a shrug. "The Wailing Doom raised high by a pink-purple hand as the screams of an entire Craftworld go silent."
That was the prophecy currently being discussed, and the second cause for sleepless nights for the Farseers of Iyanden.
Prophecy predicted She who Thirsts would take every soul on board Kher-Ys, and she would do it using Khaine's sword.
That led into the first reason for the Farseer's exhaustion; the Shards of Khaine.
It was shortly after they had escaped the tendrils of the Eye of Terror that they all began to feel angrier and angrier for no reason at all.
Sensing something was amiss, the Craftworld was checked for infiltration by a daemon or other psychic creature.
To their horror, they found the cause right in the heart of their new home; a Shard of Khaela Mensha Khaine, the god who had once tried to exterminate them all.
Bonesingers were hastily conscripted to seal off the Shard from the rest of the ship, but even now they could feel it calling to them.
How and why the Shard had been placed there was a mystery that should have been more important. Such a breach of their security wards without their noticing was an existential danger to them all. However, with the sheer number of daily disasters they predicted and averted, investigating who was responsible was quickly becoming less and less of a priority.
All the other Craftworlds they could contact reported finding a Shard of Khaine at the heart of their Craftworld, and their Bonesingers shared as much as they could regarding how to counteract the Shard. The glowing orange pieces of metallic Warp flesh constantly agitated the populace aboard each of the Craftworlds; both by its sudden appearance and psychic call.
And now, just when they had finally organized an internal mediatory force to arbitrate and adjudicate between the increasingly easily aggravated Eldar aboard Craftworld Iyanden, the prophecy of Kher-Ys came at them like a swarm of angry Warp Spiders.
"Kher-Ys has reinforced their Webway gates with runic wardings, sealed off their Shard, reinspected their entire populace for signs of She who Thirsts, and is currently militarizing as we speak." Farseer Milethea spoke bitterly as she psychically summoned an image of the Craftworld being discussed via the holographic projector in the table. The third of the youngest group of Seers had dark hair the color of the ocean at night. "Yet, the prophecy remains the same."
"If they have done as they have said, the Wraithbone and Webway shall provide no entry." Farseer Ulrissor sighed, scratching behind his ear as he did so. "The door to doom shall be opened from within; treachery from the Eldar, or the Shard."
A grim silence descended upon all of them. This was the reason for their worry.
Kher-Ys was not especially lenient in the way they gathered people to their cause. If anything, Iyanden was more liberal with who they let aboard. If a traitor from within was the cause of the doom of Kher-Ys, there was a good chance that a similar thing could happen to Iyanden.
If it was the Shards of Khaine that was responsible, then every Craftworld was already doomed.
"Does our war god hate us so much he would work with She who Thirsts to slay us?" Farseer Serapharielle asked no one in a defeated tone. Dark red locks of hair were bound in a long ponytail that reached the middle of her back.
"The legends say it was we who destroyed him and our gods." Farseer Eluriane chuckled mirthlessly as she folded her arms in front of her; light blue hair slightly curled swaying as she did so. "But, the irony of the situation seems unlike what Khaela Mensha Khaine is. If anything, that sounds more like a joke told by the Laughing God."
"How would you know, Eluriane?" Farseer Idrineth snorted, voice muffled by his mask. "It has been tens of thousands of years since the gods have spoken to any of us." The proud man was only from the middling group, despite his white hair. However, he often spoke as if he knew what their species represented as well as what they were supposed to be.
"I used to watch the Harlequins perform, when I was still a child." Eluriane shrugged. "I even asked whether I could join them, but they told me it was not yet my time to stand on their stage."
"Then is it them that did this to all of us?" Farseer Milethea asked icily as she glared at Eluriane.
"Perhaps." Eluriane shrugged again. "They are blessed most by Saim-Hann. No one knows the Webway better than them, and it would not be surprising that they can hide from all our sensors and senses. After all, their patron deity did hide from She who Thirsts."
"Even if it is them, we cannot be relieved." Idrineth snapped "The Harlequin act according to their own agenda, and we know not what that is."
"Enough." Mehlendri said, stilling the slowly heating air of the council chamber with a raised hand. Tempers were beginning to flare amongst the middling and youngest groups, and it was beginning to direct itself at the other, the unknown.
Mehlendri took in a deep breath to steady her own growing irritation as she turned to Idrineth from the middling group of the council. "Idrineth, I know Khaine whispers in your ear, but do not join its chorus. We cannot escalate matters with our own kin after having lost so many."
"You accuse me of prejudice, Farseer Mehlendri?" Idrineth answered back as he shot a glance at Milethea, the last of the youngest group of the Seer council. She was far more antagonistic to the Harlequin than anyone else on the council.
"Milethea's dislike of the Harlequin comes from personal experience." Mehlendri replied in a placating tone. "You have yet to meet them in person, and thus must reserve your judgment until you do so."
"I shall remain silent on this matter then." Idrineth retorted before clamping his mouth shut.
Mehlendri cast a look at Tyrios, the second oldest after her. Tyrios gave a slow blink in affirmation, agreeing to talk with Idrineth in private so Mehlendri's scolding would not leave bad blood between them.
This was the reason for having three of each age group. With a species as prideful as themselves, special care was needed when differences of opinion could arise.
Ulrissor was also part of the oldest group, and would have been theoretically responsible for keeping the peace between them, but that man had the emotional intelligence and sensibilities of a Jokaero. If it wasn't interesting to him, he didn't bother with it, and other people's emotions were somewhere between doing his laundry and washing the dishes on his list of priorities.
As for how far down those were on his list… If the psychic drones didn't do most of his housework for him, Mehlendri wouldn't have been surprised if he'd accidentally entombed himself in his own room with discarded clothes, bottles, and bowls.
Still, even Ulrissor had his uses in this system. He was the blunt instrument that bulldozed all doubt by stating only the harshest and coldest facts to the middling and youngest groups in the event they did not wish to see what was blatantly obvious. During those times, it was useful to have someone who didn't care whether they were hated or loved.
"Thulor. Aelondra." Mehlendri called to the two youngest Farseers. "We have done all we can for Kher-Ys, and the prophecy of their doom has not yet spread to us. We serve Craftworld Iyanden. Let us take solace in that fact, even as we shed tears for all those on Kher-Ys."
"Yes, Farseer Mehlendri." The two said in unison, bowing their heads as they did so.
Mehlendri sighed internally as she gave them a gentle smile. They were supposed to be the future of the Craftworld, yet they worried her the most. Being a Farseer required one to keep one's-self separate from what they saw. To become too emotionally attached to what-ifs could lead down a path that may be possible, but in truth was astronomically improbable.
A holistic view of everything was required, for to take one step forward on the tightrope of fate meant a step not taken back, and changing the future always required sacrifice from one's own self or someone else.
'Perhaps educating them with only what was defined as pure was not the wisest of choices.' she thought to herself as she turned to Ulrissor.
"Farseer Ulrissor, show us what we have seen for our sister Craftworlds, and what we individually know of their immediate path."
"As you wish, Farseer Mehlendri." The silver haired Eldar said under his mask, and the holographic projectors morphed into a list of all the other Craftworlds, and what each individual Seer had reported on it.
Perspective changed the vision seen, so it was necessary to have several Seers working in unison to see the far future. Overlapping those visions and predictions could lay out points of commonality between events, revealing key players or occurrences that might provide a clue as to how to ensure things proceeded in their favor.
"Craftworld Lanimayesh is currently besieged by Khorne and their losses grow daily. None of our visions see them turning the tide against the Blood God, but I see a hand with the world-rune of Biel-Tan knocking the prize from the brass giant's grip." Ulrissor reported bluntly. "Craftworld Taial'shara and Zu'lasais are lost to us. They left too late, and the voice of She who Thirsts has rendered them empty husks. They shall drift towards the worlds of the human federation."
"Do they pose a risk to us?" Serapharielle asked tiredly. "Will we have to destroy more of ourselves to keep it out of the hands of the aliens?"
"No." Tyrios grunted. "Although I have seen some of their gene-sculpted weapons walking through the remains in several hundred to several thousand years from now, the humans shall remain as ignorant of our technology as they will always be."
"Then Theminarae poses a matter of greater concern." Serapharielle sighed. "They have escaped the Fall, but I foresee a storm in its path." The dark red-haired Eldar's fist clenched as her voice grew pained. "The impure may have managed to get onboard, allowing the forces of Chaos to track its position."
"We cannot order them to purge their own populace." Tyrios immediately shot back. "And we have no idea what the nature of the impurity within them is."
"Is merely watching more of our family wither and die all we can do?" Serapharielle said bitterly. "I see their doom, but not how to prevent it. Will greater reinforcements allow them to push through their fate?"
"No." Ulrissor interjected. "If we send our own, they will share Theminarae's fate."
"The only thing we can give them is knowledge." Tyrios cut in before Serapharielle could retort.
The dark red-haired Eldar woman was from the middling group of the Seer's council, and was originally an activist on the Core Worlds. She had gone down the path of the Seer path hoping to see a better future. Instead, all she saw was death and dead ends. Still, she strove to see a way through the darkness, but it made her reactions to rejection more volatile.
"How go the preparations for our new afterlife?" Tyrios said as he turned to Mehlendri. A more hopeful topic was required to calm the atmosphere, and this was one of the few topics that showed some progress.
Mehlendri pulled out a burgundy crystal from a pouch on her belt, and lifted it with her telekinesis till it came to a rest at the center of the table where miniature gravitic tendrils dimpled the space above it so the crystal would fall upwards and downwards at the same speed, bobbing up and down in mid-air. "The samples provided by Asurmen's student Maugan Ra have been helpful, but they will be useless to us if we cannot create or collect more."
"You mean the bribe." Milethea interjected. "Iliathin's companion gave those to you in private and asked for assistance." The other Seers frowned at her use of Asurmen's old name, and her refusal to recognize him as a teacher. However, they did not chastise her. Although rude, there was reason for the Seer to find the new name distasteful. Afterall, it was a blatant plagiarism of the Phoenix King's true name.
Mehlendri sighed again internally. Milethea and her had butted heads several times recently, and although there was no hate between them, the last of the youngest group was taking her role in the Seer council as the questioner of the old a little too aggressively as of late.
"He sought our assistance to save his Craftworld." Mehlendri answered calmly. "Altansar sinks into the Warp even as we speak. But, as we last discussed at this council, my decision regarding the fate of Altansar is unswayed."
Altansar was doomed, and they could do nothing for it. That was the decision reached by the council, and it was Mehlendri's own mouth that made the prophecy.
"That is not all he wished to convince us of." Milethea continued.
"You fear my acceptance of Asurmen's proposed Path system is made of impure thoughts?" Mehlendri asked with an arched eyebrow.
"Many of your decisions past and present have me questioning you, Farseer Mehlendri." Milethea said grimly as she shot a look at the tenth person in the room who was currently stifling a yawn. He was here on Mehlendri's request, and he was not a Seer.
"Milethea…" Mehlendri said tiredly, allowing her age to seep into her voice. "The Seer council is a purely meritocratic body that values only the strength of our foresight. Even if I was bought or swayed by material gain, so long as the result of our foresight ends in the most positive outcome, the bribe itself is meaningless. The council is composed of only Seers for that sole reason. Should I try to utilize my visions for selfish gains, you would all see through me. I would have to leave the Craftworld without my eyes for attempting to lead the Eldar of Iyanden astray."
"That is another part of the council's purpose." Tyrios continued where Mehlendri left off, reminding all of them of the basic rules of the council of Seers. "To keep an eye on each other so the best collective future can be pulled towards Iyanden by tugging at the strings of fate. If an illegitimate political motivation is thought to pervert our sight, then work with the others to see through the ruse Farseer Mehlendri has made. Prove through foresight that her acts work only for her favor."
"I understand the council's purpose, Farseer Tyrios, Farseer Mehlendri." Milethea said as she bowed her head, but the two older Eldar both sighed when she raised it again as they saw an angry spark in her eyes.
"But, even if it has already been decided in the last council session I must protest again. Why must the Commorraghite remain in our midst?"
All the middling and youngest Eldar of the council besides Milethea shot a look at the Commorraghite in the chair in the room, currently looking over his nails. The wide sleeves of his shirt and robe had slipped from his wrist, revealing a black gauntlet that reflected light like a beetle's carapace.
"The Autarch," Mehlendri emphasized the title of the tenth Eldar. "is here on my request. The matters we discuss daily have a military aspect to them. He is here as an advisor and advisor alone." She shot a look at the Autarch with the last word, silenting commanding him to keep his lips sealed. The Autarch only snorted once in return, keeping his gaze fixated on his nails.
The Autarch was originally from Commorragh, that much was true. It was also true that it was Mehlendri who had recommended him to that position. She had faced much resistance from the council that time. Thankfully, the True Guardians had accepted him as their de-facto leader since their time on the Core Worlds, so the other Farseers were the only ones who required convincing.
Quite frankly, it was only because the Autarch had proved himself efficient in dealing with the various aliens they were now exposed to that the council had begrudgingly allowed him to take the post and stay during their meetings.
"There is something inside him, Farseer Mehlendri." Milethea hissed. "I know it just as I know that there is nothing in the Harlequin."
Milethea was the most psychically empathetic of the group. She could feel what others felt, and resonated with their emotions. It was for that reason she hated both the Harlequins and the Autarch. Just as the Harlequins had their personality removed, leaving nothing but a disturbing hole for Milethea to feel, there was something inside the Autarch that disgusted her just as much.
"Be that as it may…" Mehlendri spoke slowly, attempting to calm the youngest of the Seers. "If you do not have a prophecy that works against the Autarch, then you cannot sway this council's decision."
"We understand there is a tendency to over focus among our race." Tyrios spoke reassuringly to Milethea. "However, prophecy is the only thing that matters here. Your other gifts may be greater than ours, but unless they hone your foresight, they cannot sway what we have decided."
"How can you say that, Farseer Tyrios." Milethea said as she shook her head. "His plans have put us at risk already."
"If you're talking about what I did with the Orks and Mon-keigh, I thought I already explained myself." The Autarch suddenly quipped from his chair. "But, if you want another explanation then I am happy to oblige."
"Autarch Filimerthex, please remain silent." Mehlendri ordered.
The man, Filimerthex, brought results, but she did not like him anymore than the rest of them. Quite frankly, there were times she regretted letting this beggar into the group that would eventually form the Craftworld Iyanden. It was only because she knew what was most valuable to him that she could sleep without worrying whether he posed a threat to them all.
"Milethea, if you have no prophecy that finds the Autarch to be a danger to Iyanden, then you must remain silent regarding this matter." Ulrissor ended the argument abruptly.
Mehlendri watched the young woman take in a deep breath and lose all emotion on her face as she put on her Seer's mask.
"My apologies, Farseer Mehlendri." She spoke in the emotionally devoid monotone of one who saw only everything that would be, and not what they wanted. "The Autarch, Spirit Stones, and Asurmen's Path system pose no threat greater than any other to the Craftworld."
Mehlendri nodded, accepting the apology.
Milethea's anger was not entirely her own, and she was still young for an Eldar. Her empathetic nature was also causing her to act out, for the emotions of others were beginning to crowd out her own. Mehlendri told herself that to quell her own growing anger, excusing the younger Eldar in her mind for her tresspasses, even as Khaine growled inside her at the arrogance of this upstart.
"My work with the Spirit Stones provided by Maugan-Ra confirmed our theories." Mehlendri continued, hiding the heat that was growing inside her. "The Tears of Isha can act as a psychoactive data matrix, allowing the storage of both information and psychic energy. With the right wardings, we can ensnare a soul inside it before it falls into the Othersea. Our Bonesingers can adapt them to this purpose, but we will need many more to save everyone aboard Iyanden and prepare the Infinity Circuit that shall be the final resting place for us all."
Spirit Stones, also known as the Tears of Isha by the Craftworld Eldar. Each one is a clot of pure suffering and sorrow; the physical reaction of reality when the anguish of soul bearing creatures grows so large that it threatens to tear apart the veil with its pain. The crystalline material acts as a natural barrier to psychic energies, and as such energies are made from thoughts and dreams, the crystal also serves as a medium to store information.
The Eldar had theorized that they would be able to save their souls with these crystals since before the Fall, but the emotional trauma necessary to create the Tears of Isha was not something they could attempt to replicate. However, after the Fall, the Crone Worlds of the Aeldari empire provided ample supply of the burgundy crystals.
"The Path system is necessary for this endeavor as well." Mehlendri continued. "The Asuryani are the only ones to have returned from the Crone Worlds uncorrupted. Their usage of our species ability to focus on singular aspects protects from the temptations of She who Thirsts. Their martial strength shall also allow them to survive the conditions there."
"The Path system will protect us, but I see much suffering with its introduction." Serapharielle said sadly. "I see our kin struggling to remove a face that isn't theirs, and staring into mirrors unable to recognize themselves without it."
"Farseer Mehlendri" Idrineth suddenly spoke up, breaking his silence. "I too see dangers with the Path, although they are political rather than prophecy."
Mehlendri looked at him with a raised eyebrow, and Idrineth returned the look with a slight bow of his head to apologize for his earlier outburst. Apparently he had managed to take control of himself with sufficient time to reflect, and had rejoined their debate now that it had moved on from the Harlequin, allowing him to speak without taking back his words.
"The Aspect Shrines of the Path of the Asuryani demand autonomy from the Craftworlds." Idrineth continued. "Allowing them to establish themselves on Iyanden would allow a different political and theological entity to enter our home."
"The Aspect Shrines swear to remain neutral regarding any conflict within the Craftworld." Mehlendri answered, acknowledging Idrineth's comment, accepting his apology without acknowledging it. "Their warriors shall take no side. If anything, it will keep all those who follow the Path out of any strife we should sow amongst ourselves."
"Can we believe what they say?" Idrineth countered. "I have seen Eldar take up arms against Eldar. The introduction of Aspect warriors could cause blood to flow more efficiently."
"The students of Asurmen are selected for their ability to focus. Any who cannot obsess over their values to the point of near blindness will not be able to step onto the Path to begin with. All those who cannot follow his teachings will be the weakest of them, and shall pose little threat to us." Mehlendri continued sharing what she had learned from both Asurmen and Maugan Ra as well as her own foresight. "I have seen the Aspect shrines close their gates to those on Craftworld Kaelor, even as the great houses who rule it burn."
There was a moment of silence as the other Seers reviewed the vision Mehlendri shared, but Serapharielle suddenly growled angrily, overtaken by emotion.
"Iyanden was grown to restore what we once were. We did not save so many just to turn them into soldiers obsessed with one form of slaughter." She spat. "Not all of those who walk down to the end of the Path do so with the intention to remain there. My sight has shown many stories of pain and regret for those upon it."
Mehlendri waited for Serapharielle's breathing to return to normal as the middling Seer struggled to reign in her emotions.
"Asurmen has offered to teach methods to remove the War Mask." She said reassuringly. "He too does not wish to convert the Eldar into a species of Exarchs. The Asuryani are supposed to wander from Path to Path according to him. Only when obsession is the only salvation should an Eldar follow the Path to its ultimate end, and step into the unknown to lengthen it."
"Will we save more than we will lose, Farseer Mehlendri?" Serapharielle asked slowly.
"We will lose all without a way forward and a way back."
Serapharielle bowed her head at the double-meaning of the Path; both in its symbolistic sense as the way their kind would better themselves before starting over on a new one, and the practical sense in that only Aspect warriors would be able to make the journey to the Crone Worlds and return with the Tears of Isha necessary for their soul's salvation.
"I see the same sight as Farseer Mehlendri." Serapharielle said.
The other Seers gave their own affirmations, and the Seer Council of Iyanden finally agreed to allow Asurmen and his students to set-up their Aspect shrines.
—-
(PoV: Farseer Idrineth)
As the Seer council began to disperse, I sighed and swallowed my pride. I had spoken harshly to both Farseer Mehlendri and Milethea regarding the Harlequin, and my actions bordered on arrogance.
I would need to make amends with both in private, so it would not affect our next council.
Although Farseer Mehlendri did a good job at hiding it, I saw the fire that burned in her eyes. She too was affected by Khaela Mensha Khaine like the rest of us. Everyday fights and arguments erupted over the smallest things across the Craftworld. Even though all of us knew that the instigator for our anger was the fragment of the god of murder and violence, it was starting to matter less and less.
Inter-Craftworld communications were beginning to be affected as well. The tone of the other political bodies leading their respective Craftworlds grew harsher every day, and they would no doubt grow even worse with Farseer Mehlendri's proposed method of salvation.
They would be grateful for the knowledge, but knowing how to use the Tears of Isha didn't change the fact that they were in short supply. Although Asurmen and his disciples traveled through the Webway, visiting every Craftworld they could while spreading Spirit Stones as gifts and bargaining chips to gain permission to start their Aspect shrines, the numbers provided were too few to satisfy even the smallest Craftworld.
If Farseer Mehlendri shared her findings with the other Craftworlds, as well as the spells necessary to allow the Tears to automatically save our souls, the demand for Spirit Stones would grow even more.
That was where the seed of death and destruction lay.
There were only two places Spirit Stones could be found. The Crone Worlds of our empire, and the other Craftworlds. If Khaine continued to call to us, there was a real chance a war between the Eldar could erupt in order to safely acquire more Tears without risk of corruption.
Iyanden would probably be safe, protected by its sheer size and the fact that it was Farseer Mehlendri who had shared the knowledge of salvation with the other Craftworlds. However, there was no telling what the minor Craftworlds might do to each other.
I saw Kaelor appearing from the Webway in Saim-Hann's path with Pulsars, Starcannons, and Disruption blasters blazing. Meanwhile, the shattered husk of Aon'tai was left behind by Biel-Tan. If the minor Craftworlds could become desperate enough to attack one of the major ones, that only meant they had run out of easier targets.
But, jealously guarding this secret would be even more dangerous. The vision I saw showed the other Craftworlds tearing into each other, but to do the opposite would be to invite them all to attack Iyanden in order to steal the secrets of the Spirit Stones, both real and imaginary.
Keeping one secret suggested more were hidden, and the conspiracies would grow to the point Iyanden would be accused of hiding things it did not have.
Damned if we do, damned if we don't. That was where we were as a species.
I shook my head, throwing off the depressing thoughts that had begun to overcome me. I had begun to lose myself in visions of what could be, even though we had already averted that fate with our decisions.
My eyes looked up at the table, only to find the others still standing where they were.
Odd. I had thought that at least one or two would have left while I was over focused on my visions of the inter-Craftworld wars, but everyone else hadn't moved.
I turned towards Farseer Mehlendri, only to see a bloody neck stump where her head was supposed to be.
My eyes turned from one Farseer to the next, only to see each with a different mortal wound. Some were blown open from the inside, as if a bomb had buried itself inside them before blowing them apart. Others were burnt almost cinders, still crackling with psychic energy from a battle of psychic blows. Eluriane had been turned into a mummified husk with only a small cut on her wrist.
All of them turned towards me, even though some were missing their head or face. All 8 of the other dead Farseers were looking at me with non-existant or vacant eyes.
My feet stumbled backwards as I felt my heart palpitate painfully in my chest. Then, a bout of vertigo struck, knocking my sense of balance from my head as surely as a bludgeon would have done, causing everything I saw to swim and ripple like a reflection on a pond disturbed by a dropping stone.
Suddenly, I felt a presence behind me. I could feel the arms of something extended towards me, and the hairs on the back of my neck rose as its chilling touch brushed against my skin. I swayed, trying to prevent myself from falling backwards, but the corpses of the other Seers continued to stare at me. Behind them were the ruined walls of the Seer chamber of Iyanden that overlooked the Craftworld. The polished white Wraithbone was cracked and charred, revealing the ruins that remained of our new home. Entire sections were gone, melted or vaporized by some bomb or torpedo. I could hear the faint mourning cries of all those that survived, only a few thousand of what should have been tens of billions.
All of the dead and those that survived were looking at me, staring at me, driving me back with their gaze.
I took the final step backwards into the extended arms of whatever was behind me, and they thrust themselves towards me as if to push me away.
But it was too late. I was falling through the immaterial touch of whatever was behind me, falling through a sea of information and psychic energy. It seeped into every pore and every cell of my body, impregnating every nucleus it passed through.
There was a thump as I landed on my back, and I was alone in the ruins of Iyanden.
Then the nausea struck.
I vomited immediately, retching over the floor before gasping for air like a drowning man. Fatigue robbed my limbs of their strength and I became both hungry and thirsty at the same time.
Groaning, I started to roll to the side to get up, but as I turned I felt something move in my stomach. Reaching for my midriff, I felt it start to swell, stretching my clothing and the skin underneath it.
Another bout of nausea struck, but I could only dry retch noisily as I felt my stomach distend another couple centimeters. My fingers grew thin and withered, and I felt my cheeks sink into themselves as the thing in my belly drank the nutrients from my blood and flesh as my lungs worked like a pair of bellows in a forge, drawing in fresh air to supply the being within me with more oxygen.
But, despite all this, I did not feel fear or despair. The only thing I could feel was love. Love for the thing eating my body from the inside out. Love for the unborn creatures growing amongst my intestines, shoving them aside as their limbs and head elongated and swelled.
Dry laughter escaped my thinning lips as I stroked the now exposed skin of my stomach that had torn its way through my shirt and robes.
I should be afraid. I should hate the thing robbing me of my life. Yet, I knew that if anything or anyone dared to kill the creature inside me, I would throw myself over it to buy it a few more seconds so it could be born.
There was a snap, and I felt my left side lighten as my arm fell off. Tree roots grew out from the cross-section that should have revealed blood and bone, latching onto the Wraithbone and digesting it in order to provide fruits and nuts for the coming child. I could feel other things growing inside me as well. Other life forms that would emerge from my skin in order to take care of the children I would leave behind. Every part of me would be repurposed to form their cradle.
As the last bit of moisture drained out of my skin, leaving it hard and dry as bark, I stared upwards as an Aeldari woman with gold hair and silver eyes looked down at me sadly.
This was an incomplete miracle I'd activated by accident; spurred on by my survivor's guilt and pride.
"Mother…" I finally managed to mouth as the world dimmed then disappeared in darkness.
…
I tore off my helmet and retched onto the holographic projector table as I returned from the realm of dreams and visions back to reality. All the other men except one followed suit, either collapsing onto the table or trying in vain to hold their mouth closed before finally vomiting into their hand.
The one exception was the Autarch, who had a pensive look on his face while he stroked his chin.
The women either stumbled or put a hand to their stomach, shaken but not violently ill like the rest of us.
"What…" I stammered out. "was that?"
"Motherhood." Farseer Mehlendri replied as she massaged her stomach. "That was an extremely concentrated and visceral form of it. However, the emotions and reactions are very much the same."
That was motherhood? Farseer Mehlendri caught the disgusted look on my face and snorted.
"You and the others don't have the required organs, nor have you the experience of bringing life into this world, but that is what your own mothers felt when she bore you for the first time."
I grimaced then cleared my throat as several psychic drones flew in to clean up the mess.
"How would you know? You were dead in my foresight."
"That was your own personal vision, Idrineth." Farseer Mehlendri sighed. "In mine, only Milithea and I survived the Mon-keigh assault."
"What does this mean, Farseer Mehlendri?" Farseer Tyrios spoke up, shaking his hand to throw off the sick that was still on it before a psychic drone floated up to him in order to wash off the remaining mucus and pungent acids that clung to his fingers.
"I do not know, but we have more pressing matters to address." Farseer Mehlendri said with a shake of her head. "The rest of Iyanden no doubt felt that as well. We must take charge of the situation before things get out of hand. I will deal with our people. Meanwhile, contact the other Craftworlds. A choice has been made somewhere in this galaxy. A choice that affects all of our lives. We must know how far its effects reach, and what to do with it."
Writer notes: Craftworld Iyanden 1: The Seer's Council
A/N I'm not going to be putting as much effort in these sections (they are all on Space Battles forums, but the odd one might appear on other sites.), because I want to prioritise the main story. My story makes a lot of references to other real world events or mythology, so I've made these to elaborate since some of the symbolism and references are hard to get for some non-native speakers as well as younger native speakers.
Title: The first part in a 4 or 5 part series of side-stories regarding Craftworld Iyanden, and their reaction to Isha's choice. Some people might be worried that this story is going to be taken over by what might be classified as "omake" stories, but rest assured, the next parts of Isha's story are already drafted and plotted, so I know where the story is supposed to go and we do not risk running into a dead end.
Main Part: This side-story is mostly here to clarify some of the dates of Warhammer canon regarding the Eldar, and modify some of the canon dates so that they make sense.
Currently, the canon timeline of the Eldar has them discovering Spirit Stones and modifying them into soul containers between M31 and M33. i.e. They spent the entire Great Crusade, Horus Heresy, and the Reforging without Spirit Stones. As the more passionate fans might have guessed, this creatively idiotic decision was made by Mat Ward.
To accentuate just how idiotic this creative decision was, Lorgar committed Exterminatus on one living Craftworld in canon before he fell to Chaos, and the Eldar on that Craftworld had Spirit Stones and an Infinity Circuit. Although GW may be notorious for contradicting themselves, this particular lack of internal consistency is especially stupid in my opinion. What is the point of leaving Eldar souls defenseless for 3000 years?
The timeline for Spirit Stones has been accelerated in this story. If Isha never escaped, they would have completed the Infinity Circuit within M30, possibly within only a hundred or so years after the Fall.
The events that involve Asurmen are left untouched, which includes his travels from the Core Worlds and gathering the Eldar who would become the Phoenix Lords. The canon events of Maugan Ra being the one who provided Mehlendri Silversoul with the Spirit Stones, and Mehlendri being the first Eldar to discover how to store their souls in them, as well as the one who designed the schematics for the Infinity Circuit are unchanged.
Isha's Tears being made of suffering also ties into this, because the emotional trauma necessary to create them nicely explains why the Craftworlders couldn't complete the Infinity Circuit and had to re-discover Spirit Stones from the Asuryani (Asurmen and his followers).
On the topic of the Asuryani, the Path system is also a post-Fall invention, so this side-story also describes how the Eldar accepted the Path system provided by Asurmen, especially with all its drawbacks.
There are multiple references to canon Craftworlds, as well as their fates. Some of them appear only in Eldar codices, but one of these was important during the Fall of Cadia, so they are hardly irrelevant.
Kher-Ys, the Craftworld talked about the most, is a canon Craftworld that was destroyed by Slaanesh. The daughter of the Craftworld's leader was seduced by a Keeper of Secrets who disguised themself as an attractive Eldar youth who had accidentally gotten trapped in the Webway. (Yes, daemons can infiltrate the Webway, although it is a dangerous environment for them. If the Druhkari do not kill them upon entering, the Warp Spiders might devour them. (Yes, even Commorragh is not totally evil. It is because Dysjunctions occur in Commorragh that daemons do not spill into the Webway unmolested.)) This Keeper of Secrets managed to sneak aboard the Craftworld, undid the wardings of the Webway, and brought swarms of Slaaneshi daemons onto the Craftworld before heading to the Avatar of Khaine. Through several long hours of ritual and conversation, the Keeper of Secrets possessed the Avatar of Khaine, slaying the Eldar with the sword of their War god while empowering the other daemons in the same way the Avatar should have empowered the Eldar. Thus, every soul aboard Kher-Ys was claimed by She who Thirsts.
This future was foreseen by the Seers of Kher-Ys, but they could not decipher its full meaning. The events described here by the Seers of Iyanden allude to that fate. The reason they cannot decipher it is that in reality, it did not have to be the daughter of the leader. Any of the Eldar upon Kher-Ys could have fallen to the Keeper of Secret's deception, and eventually lead to their doom. Hence, the key person of the prophecy was forever malleable. (Thankfully, there are now Aeldari who can sniff out the taint of Slaanesh on their kin, and who else knows the Webway better than the Harlequin?)
As for why the Craftworlds are so open to conversation at this time, the War between the Craftworlds alluded to by Jain Zar in the novel "Jain Zar: The Storm of Silence" has not yet happened. In the novel, Jain Zar argues with an Avatar of Khaine, accusing her 'father' of instigating a civil war between the Craftworlds after the Fall, and there are other references in Eldar codices of Craftworlds attacking each other such as Saim-Hann and Kaelor.
Because the civil war has not yet happened, Craftworlds are less insular and more open to cooperation immediately after the Fall.
One thing to note about the Craftworlds in canon is that they do not have a uniform system of government, nor overarching cultural norms. Some Craftworlds are extremely draconian, culling anyone who shows even the slightest hint of Slaaneshi corruption, while others are borderline Core Worlders who enjoy the boons of their psychic physiology, and advanced technology. Kaelor and Aon'tai are two examples of Craftworlds who are explicitly stated to have attacked or been attacked by other Craftworlds, Saim-hann and Biel-Tan respectively.
Aon'tai in particular was utterly destroyed during a period of time called "The Era of Tears." This period of time is alluded to be when the Eldar waged civil war against one another. This is the canon source for the vision seen by Idrineth. In this story it is an age where Craftworlds raided one another for the Tears of Isha, as the method of collecting them from the Crone Worlds had yet to be perfected. Therefore, the only easy way to accumulate Spirit Stones was to steal them from their brethren.
Although it would be interesting to depict a fight with Eldar against Eldar, it would be a narrative step backwards that Isha would not allow, so the Era of Tears will be averted, although in a very convoluted manner.
On a more positive note, Iyanden is described as the largest and one of the last Craftworlds to escape the Fall. Although it was decimated when it ran into the Tyrannids, it was originally patrolling the sector of space that would later be known as the Ultramar sector, destroying Chaos aligned aliens as well as any daemons that tried to corrupt real-space directly. This is hinted to be the reason why Ultramar is so prosperous and 'good' when compared to the other regions of the Imperium.
As the Craftworld who originally wished to reestablish the Aeldari Empire, but who still have to remain culturally distinct from Biel-Tan, their culture is a mixture of pragmatism and puritanism. Although they are only known for their usage of Wraithguards due to taking so many losses from the Tyrannids in 40K, their supplemental codices does have several interesting passages and items that have been incorporated into this story.
Although most of my readers might think that Mehlendri is the only Eldar from canon, with all the other characters being OCs, there is actually another character here who is from the Iyanden Supplement Codex. Although he or she has no name in the codex, the description of what this individual was should be enough to figure out who is also from canon. Then again, it should be painfully obvious with the focus placed on this other character.
To quote the Iyanden Supplement Codex this "should have been sealed in a stasis vault or destroyed long ago, so that its evil may be contained or dispersed, but alas, times are so dire that every weapon must be pressed into service, whatever the risks."
But, to be quite honest, I only read the Supplement Codex until after I had finished the character profiles. I always wanted a Commorraghite to be included in the story. People think the Dark City as only a source of pain and suffering, but just as one of Slaanesh's functions is to make sure the Othersea does not dry up, Commorragh has its own uses even though they may be done with only evil or selfish intents.
It was a happy coincidence I could introduce this character aboard Iyanden without an overly contrived back-story.
Other things I would like to point out is the importance of pride in all the Eldar's interactions. Just as Isha talked about pride in a previous chapter, these side-stories explore what it means to be part of a race and society that is as proud as the Eldar. The Craftworlders deal with it by reinforcing ideals of humility, and allowing alternative ways of saving face through professional and private channels.
The Commorraghites have an entirely different way of dealing with this problem, and they are quite ridiculous. Lihilitu was a noble in this story, so some of the societal norms of her background have leached into the psyche of Commorragh. Even in canon 40K, the nobility of Commorragh are described to lounge on giant palanquins carried by crowds of slaves when they travel through the streets. Talking with them on equal footing while saving face requires some equally outlandish social rules that you'd find in any aristocracy.