As always, there are three advance chapters are up on my P-atreon: p-atreon /SkySage24
With every sobbing gasp that left her throat, Isha felt her rage and despair deepen rather than abate.
For years, she had bottled it all up, repressed it. Even before the Fall, as she watched her children spiral into madness and decadence, she could not truly speak her mind to those she blamed for it, could not lash out at Khaine or Asuryan, or punish her children.
How dare the Emperor demand so much of her? How dare her children even think to blame her for not saving them?
She had done everything she could. She had offered the Emperor a hundred secrets for which lesser gods would have killed worlds. She had endured ages of torment for daring to try to help her children at the hands of the monster that was her father and had watched her brother sacrifice himself for it.
And what had she gotten for it all? To become the Emperor's prisoner and slave? For her children to remember her for nothing except her tears? To reject her guidance because she did not approve of the rape, murder, and mutilation of innocent people?
The Dominion had damned itself, and in her darkest moments, Isha could not help but think they had deserved it. That they deserved worse for destroying her family, for dragging the galaxy to the brink of ruin.
And the Emperor. This, this insufferable child who dared to dictate to her as if he understood even a fraction of what she had been through. Who thought he could hold her leash and use her as an attack dog.
How dare they.
A part of her just wanted to let go. A part of her that was stronger than it had been since the War in Heaven, the part that just wanted to stop caring because it hurt too much. For countless ages, everyone had berated her for her kindness, for her compassion, for daring to care and hold every life sacred. The Emperor was just another in a long line of them.
Perhaps she should have listened to them. Perhaps if she had just let go, been her father's daughter, been the weapon of the Old Ones, she could have stopped all this. Usurped Asuryan, brought her children to heel, and slain the Chaos Gods.
She still could. If she so desired, she could conjure forth new weapon races the likes of which the galaxy had not seen since the War in Heaven, and send them to march into the realms of Chaos. She could subvert every super soldier the Emperor had crafted, turn Terra itself against him. She could unite her children by force, and bind them to her will so that they might never defy her.
Even the Four would know to fear her legions and would be reminded that they were parasites who could never comprehend or understand what the War that had birthed them had truly been like.
Even if she did not win, even if she died as she most likely would, at least she would have her revenge and would have made her enemies feel some fraction of the pain and sorrow that had haunted her for so long.
Hate and despair and rage bubbled in her chest, curdling into a poison that threatened to burst out and consume the world.
But one thing kept it at bay.
The memory of those small children on Iyanden, on Terra. Those innocents who had done nothing deserved no harm or blame for the crimes of their elders and masters.
Yet, even as she reminded herself of that, Isha could not restrain the bitterness in her entirely. It was too much, it had been held within for too long.
The Emperor was watching her like a mortal might watch a wounded animal that might lash out at him, and something dark and ugly bubbled inside her, dictating her next words.
"Why should I believe a word you say?" She asked derisively. "Yes, you have created a dreamstone, good for you. But that means nothing to me. Whatever emotion you drew upon to create that thing was certainly not affection for me or my people."
"I will not deny that," The Emperor acknowledged quietly, looking at her with an infuriatingly calm expression. "But the creation of the dreamstone did truly lead me to a realization; that I should have treated you better, that we can accomplish more as allies than as master and servant."
This was the moment Isha had been working towards ever since she had landed on Terra, the very thing she had invested so much effort in, what she had pinned all her hopes on.
And yet, now that it was here, she could not bring herself to believe it.
"I don't believe you," She said coldly. "You have made it abundantly clear in how little regard you hold my life or my wishes. You promised me that you would not harm any of my children who came looking for me unless they attacked first, and you were perfectly willing to destroy Iyanden, to murder every last man, woman, and child on board, no matter how little a threat they posed to you. You have held their lives hostage to demand that I craft slave soldiers for you and give up yet more of my secrets."
The Emperor winced, but Isha refused to believe that was anything other than temporary. Whatever flash of guilt or remorse he was feeling right now would fade away and ultimately be irrelevant, just like every moment of camaraderie and empathy they had shared before Iyanden's arrival.
She had been a naive fool to ever think she could trust the Emperor. By coming here, she had placed more of her children at risk than she ever would have by seeking a Webway Gate and fleeing through it.
The Emperor was exactly like the Old Ones, exactly like Asuryan, like Khaine. His interests, his ideals, and his beliefs came first and anyone who dared to disagree was, at best, a tool to be discarded when they became inconvenient.
And damn if it didn't feel good to just let her rage run loose for once, the consequences be damned.
"I do regret what I did upon Iyanden," The Emperor insisted. "That was unworthy of me, especially after all that you have done for me. I should not have broken my word, and I should not have threatened the children upon the vessel. And I retract all the demands I made, truly. I will not force you to create slave soldiers, nor to act as my weapon."
Isha let out another mocking laugh, another distorted howl that sounded more like Cegorach than anything else, a sound that made the room tremble and the Immaterium ripple and twist. "How convenient that you have found remorse after doing all those things, after threatening me and wrapping chains around me to show my subservience to you for all to see."
It was not the wisest thing to say, perhaps. But what did she have to lose? At worst, her words would mean that the illusion of civility, the false hope of alliance and friendship, would be torn away.
And Isha would rather live with the bitter truth; that the Emperor would never see her as anything except a tool, than continue to cling to the idea that something more was possible.
It was not as if her attempts to appeal to his better nature, to convince him of the value of compassion and cooperation, had accomplished anything so far.
But the Emperor only looked pained at her words, no hint of anger or frustration upon his face.
"I know," He said quietly, still frustratingly calm. "I have given you no reason to believe I will treat you as an equal, as an ally. Which is why I have devised a solution to both of your problems."
"And what solution is that?" Isha scoffed. "Another agreement where I give you something you greatly desire, and you make a promise that you will break the next time it is inconvenient."
"An agreement, yes," The Emperor said, dipping his head. He hesitated for a single moment before forging ahead, and this time, his words truly shocked Isha. "But more than that. A pact, a binding covenant to ensure both of us keep our word."
For a moment, Isha was truly speechless, but she quickly recovered. "And what would the conditions of the pact be? That I be your faithful servant and you will be a gentle master?" Isha sneered.
While even gods could form binding pacts, Isha had never raised or even considered the idea because she had believed the Emperor would never consent to have any restrictions upon him, to have any force other than his power enforcing the agreement.
And even now, she could not believe he would consent to any sort of binding that would restrict him in any way.
But the Emperor's words were firm and clear, ringing with sincerity. "No. I would have us be equals, entering a binding agreement that affects us both equally. Please, look at it."
With a snap of his fingers, a glowing golden tablet roughly twice the size of his head appeared in front of Isha, and she took it warily, her eyes scanning the words, inscribed in the script of some ancient human language she did not know.
But the meaning was clear in the Warp, the thought, intent, and emotion behind them resonating in her mind. No ordinary mortal would be able to comprehend this, even if they knew the language the Emperor had written it in, for there were far more words on the tablet than were visible through sight alone, a million golden runes shimmering in the Dreaming. Even a powerful psyker like Malcador would have struggled to comprehend the sheer breadth and details the Emperor had inscribed upon the contract he prepared.
But the essentials were clear. Isha would have to abide by the same conditions she had already agreed to, supplying food, medicine, and knowledge, and not lie to the Emperor or do anything that would harm the humans under his rule. Under the conditions of the contract, some of her previous actions, such as the message she had sent out to her children, would not be possible, but…it was nothing new.
The truly astonishing parts were the conditions the Emperor had imposed upon himself. A promise to treat her as an equal, to never ask her for slave soldiers again, to not harm any of Iyanden's people as long as they remained in Alpha Centauri, to not eradicate or enslave the entire populace even if they did attack…
And to not cast her aside, even if she was no longer useful. That she would have his protection and aid no matter what.
In essence, they were the same terms he had always demanded of her, in how she should act towards him and humanity, but now he was willing to impose them on himself as well.
Isha scanned the words as hard as she could. Sought any loophole, any gap, anything the Emperor could exploit to use against her.
But she found nothing. She was not Lileath or Cegorach or Asuryan. Sorcerous pacts and laws had never been her area of specialty.
Yet, she was still Mother of the Eldar, an Incarnate Goddess with a mind that no mortal or mortal creation could ever hope to match. To fool her was a difficult task indeed.
And nothing she could see in the contract was deceptive or cruel, meant to exploit her or leave the Emperor with the ability to violate it. It had been meticulously crafted, and its sincerity was painfully obvious.
It truly would restrain the Emperor's actions, much as Asuryan's Edict had restrained the entire Pantheon, if in a very different way.
Her rage doused, Isha could only shake her head helplessly. "I…"
"If you wish to take time to consider the matter, that is alright," The Emperor said, watching her closely. "I realize that this is quite a shock and that you have every reason to doubt my words."
Isha struggled to think of what to say. The contract did mean a great deal and was a greater sign of the Emperor's sincerity than she could have dared to hope for.
But at the same time, it did not erase his previous actions. Could she truly afford to take the time to consider, and not seize upon their opportunity? The Emperor had proven himself mercurial, and while she believed now that his remorse and desire to make amends was sincere, there was no guarantee of how long it would last.
No.
She had to seize this opportunity now, while it was there and before it faded away.
"No," She said finally. "I am willing to agree to the pact now. Let us do it."
The Emperor smiled, and his expression was more open and visibly relieved than she had ever seen it before, save when she had given him the confirmation that Horus was untainted. "Thank you."
Isha gave a curt nod, not trusting herself to speak.
The Emperor rose to his feet, circling around his giant chessboard to stand in front of her.
Isha briefly let go of the tablet, letting it rise back into the air, before placing her hand on it again at the same time as the Emperor did.
For a long, awkward moment, the two of them stared at each other, and then they both channeled their power into it.
No words were required to bind themselves, no verbal declarations or written signatures that meant less than nothing.
All that was required, was intent and power.
A storm of golden and emerald light erupted, swirling and crackling around them as their power poured into the tablet, initiating the contract, the ritual.
The surge of power echoed in both worlds and in the distance, Isha could hear the shrieking of the Dark Gods. A good sign, she hoped.
And as the contract was established, the storm shrank and coalesced, bands of golden energy wrapping around Isha's arm from fingertip to shoulder, the same happening to the Emperor, save the bands around his arm were a verdant green instead. If either of them dared to violate the contract, the price would be dire indeed.
A weight settled upon Isha's essence in the Immaterium, and she could see the same happening to the Emperor, the golden sun…not dimmed, but restrained, albeit willingly.
And with a final flare of power, the contract was made.
With that flare, came one last piece of understanding.
The Emperor's name.
Not his True Name, not the one that would give others power over him, but a name he considered his own nevertheless, one sufficient for the contract.
George.
The name was so ordinary that Isha didn't know what to make of it. It didn't seem to suit the Emperor at all.
The two of them stared at each other for a long moment as the last traces of power faded away, both unsure of what to say.
And it was only as they stood in silence that Isha realized her physical avatar had changed without her notice.
Large sections of her skin had hardened and shifted to crystal, as it did for those of her children who lived too long without reincarnating. Her nails had turned to iron, and her red hair now had streaks of white-blue.
What in the world?
For her avatar to shift without her notice was impossible. Such a thing had not happened since…
A spark of alarm ignited in Isha's heart, but she ignored it for now, hastily shifting her form back to normal.
She could see the curiosity in the Emperor's eyes, but Isha could not say she particularly felt like indulging it, so she said nothing.
At last, the Emperor cleared his throat and spoke. "I, ah, suppose you're wondering how I created the dreamstone at last."
"...yes," Isha admitted. She guessed, of course, but she was curious about the details.
"I finally heeded your advice," The Emperor said, his tone wry and self-deprecating in a way Isha had never heard from him before. "I used my love for Horus, for those of my children long dead. You may examine it if you wish."
The dreamstone floated forward, and hesitating only for a moment, Isha reached out to grasp it.
And yes, what the Emperor said was true. This dreamstone was inextricably bound to Horus, the Emperor's love and affection for his son crystallized into a single, perfect gem.
"Well done," She said finally, passing the dreamstone back. She paused to consider her next words, before speaking again. "If I may, I believe this first dreamstone should go to Horus himself. It is strongly attuned to him, to your affection for him, and would serve him well. And as the very first of your dreamstones…well, it has a certain significance and power in the Warp."
The Emperor's eyebrows knitted together in thought. "A good point," He acknowledged.
That awkward silence fell once more as the two of them regarded each other uneasily, both of them conscious of the weight of the contract upon them.
Isha could only hope she would not regret this decision.
And for anyone interested, here's an invite code to my Discord server: mnM2zvsQ