A/N: A few sentences regarding mutilation have been removed.

"We cannot hoard knowledge for ourselves." Mehlendri was almost shouting at the Seer council as Filimerthex entered the room.

'Thank goodness for the two sets of doors.' He thought to himself, giving thanks to the airlock style set of consecutive doors that kept the Seers' voices inside the council chamber.

"Farseer Mehlendri, there are not enough Psychomatons for every Craftworld, and we have no idea how long they will remain as sane as they are." One of the youngest, Thulor, retorted. "At worst, we may end up snubbing some only to anger the remaining if the Psychomatons turn out to be tainted."

"The reports from the boarding parties on the civilian ships show clear signs of the being that left them killing the Aeldari upon the civilian ships. No one was spared. Hence, we cannot be sure of the intentions of the being that left them to us." Aelondra replied grimly, bringing up images of the Aeldari corpses found on the ships. Most had been left to rest in a peaceful manner, lying on the ground with their eyes closed. However, not all the bodies had been left in a presentable state.

Idrineth grimaced as one corpse appeared that had been heavily disfigured.

Some had body parts missing; the evidence of trophy taking. Others had been shot several times with laser or projectile weaponry. A few had been incinerated, and even fewer had been obliterated, most likely by someone leaving a grenade right on top of the corpse.

"The signs of desecration upon their bodies were all applied after the Core Worlders' deaths, but they were desecrated nonetheless." He growled. "Even in death, they did not deserve to be treated like that."

"But to keep what we have found here a secret from the rest is as dangerous as keeping the knowledge of the Spirit Stones to ourselves." Mehlendri stated angrily. "We must share what we have learned."

"And what then, Farseer Mehlendri?" Ulrissor interjected. "Would you give Biel-Tan extra reasons to go on a crusade against the humans? Would you tell Alaitoc and the others knowing they will begin to search for her? We can foresee the effects of our actions, and the knowledge we have here is a dangerous thing."

Biel-Tan already bristled at the thought of lesser races taking the seat of power left vacant by the fall of the Aeldari empire. That was a place they intended their race to return to, and visions of a human empire already had their hackles raised. This evidence of humans encroaching and desecrating the Aeldari's pride would be enough for them to begin purging several human worlds in order to buy time for the Eldar to recoup and rebuild.

Alaitoc, on the other hand, was arguably even more problematic. Their world rune showed obvious deference to the ancient deities, and they would most likely follow this first hint of where one of them had gone. Other Craftworlds would no doubt join them, but that in itself was a danger. The being that had burned away all traces of the goddess was no doubt still with her, and it was hostile to the Eldar. Nothing good could come from finding the goddess, assuming she even wanted to be found. It had been determined that the sabotage of the civilian vessels had most likely been done by the missing deity's hand, as well as the euthanization of every Core Worlder upon them. If she still worked with the humans against the Eldar, the reunion between them would be disastrous.

"The Eldar CANNOT splinter apart!" Mehlendri suddenly snapped. "We are Iyanden! The Craftworld self-tasked to rebuild our original empire before the corruption that destroyed us all! We do so because we wish to give all those we love a place where they no longer have to fear War, Disease, Madness, and Depravity! That includes all the survivors on the Craftworlds!" The other Farseers balked for a moment, surprised by the sudden shattering of the oldest Farseer's calm. "It was the arrogance of our forebears that broke the original unity that kept us strong! The idea that there were lesser and greater Aeldari among us! Iyanden is not the decider of the fate of all Eldar! She is but one part of a whole that spins on the brink of shattering apart! The others must know what has happened here! They deserve that much!"

Mehlendri's passionate panting from her outburst was all that could be heard in the Seer council chamber for a few moments, allowing Filimerthex to sit down in his usual corner seat and whip out a nail file.

"Farseer Mehlendri." Tyrios said slowly and solemnly. "This is the Seer Council. Unless your foresight sees a path where telling the rest of the Craftworlds leads to a better outcome than keeping things hidden, you must remain silent."

Mehlendri Silversoul bit her lip for a moment, then bowed her head and whispered. "I… understand."

This time, it was her side that fate had forsaken.

"By majority decision, Iyanden shall keep the Psychomatons in stasis while we investigate the nature of the arrow left behind." Tyrios continued moving the discussion along. "However, what we have found here will remain secret. We cannot afford to deviate from the path we have already predicted."

There was a snort from the corner of the room, followed by some aggressive nail filing.

Tyrios cast a glance at the Autarch, only to see him observing his long pointed thumbnail. The Commorraghite was being more obnoxious and crass than usual, but despite his obvious disdain for the Seer council's decision Filimerthex made no remark or interruption.

"Milethea…" Tyrios continued, deciding to ignore the Autarch. "Share with us what our Bonesingers have found regarding the arrow."

Farseer Milethea produced a knowledge crystal hidden in the sleeve of her robe, and sent it to the center of the holographic projector table with its embedded miniature gravitic generators. Space dimpled around the crystal holding it in place as light was shot through it from below displaying a report of what the Bonesingers of Iyanden had found

"The voice reported by Guardian leader Seridin did not make itself heard to our Bonesingers." Milethea reported. "The material appears to be a very complicated composition of Wraithbone, which has given our Bonesingers insight into reinforcing their own compositions. However, the truly valuable part is the golden tip." The image magnified itself, focussing on the point of the arrow.

"As you all know, all children born since the Fall have their psychic senses bound and their souls blinded. All parents who cannot do this to their own child must forfeit the young soul to the nurturers. To not do so invites damnation, as the daemons may smell an unguarded soul even beneath all our wards."

'And the primary reason for our devolution.' Filimerthex thought to himself darkly. All future Eldar would be stunted in their psychic development compared to the Aeldari because of this. The lack of early experimentation with their psychic abilities would slow their growth, and the strongest potential psykers that could not be blinded or held down by the nutritionist in their infancy might even have to be put in stasis lock or culled in order to protect the Craftworld.

He had accepted that as the cost of survival, as the rest of the Eldar upon Iyanden and almost all of the other Craftworlds.

However…

"This golden material offers an alternative to this." Milethea continued, voice as warm as the golden glow of the arrow tip. "Its mere existence acts as a deterrent against things from the immaterium. I propose we use this to protect our nurseries, to allow the young souls to develop their talents at an earlier age, and spare their parents the pain of separation."

The golden Wraithbone naturally repelled the touch of the Warp, and all other creatures from it. If replicated, even a thin layer coating the nursing chambers of the Craftworld could improve the quality of life for Iyanden's children and parents.

"Is it safe?" Serapharielle asked nervously. "I understand that all the Guardian squads felt discomfort in that thing's presence."

"Although painful to our psychic senses, so long as it does not breach the skin, any damage taken from it is merely temporary." Milethea answered. "If anything, it shall teach the young souls not to touch things with their psychic senses without permission, knowledge, or caution."

"Then that is good… How long until we can replicate it." There was an edge of desperation in Serapharielle's voice. This was the first truly good news they had had ever since Mehlendri's success with the Spirit Stones, but even that was tinged with the grim reminder that there were nowhere enough Spirit Stones for all the Eldar of Iyanden. This golden material was made from Wraithbone, and could theoretically be produced as many times as necessary so long as the song for it was learned.

"Our Bonesingers work as we speak, but no promises can be made." Milethea said glumly. "The concepts imbued in it are familiar yet alien, and its paradoxical nature burns the vocal cords of our Bonesingers."

"Can we not use the Psychomatons to assist us in this regard?" Eluriane asked. "The material already coats their nails. Surely they know how to sing it into existence."

"And put the ears of our young souls next to the mouths of the slaves of Khaine?" Milethea snorted. "I have seen them and heard their thoughts. They think only of violence and the method to conduct it. To them, we are merely chattel for the grinder of war. The risk is too great. Khaine's shard has been calm, ever since the vision, but we know not for how long it will wait or whether it is waiting at all."

Khaine's shard had been eerily silent ever since the Eldar witnessed the vision of death, destruction, and an imperfect miracle. However, what was once relief was gradually growing into suspicion.

"Bonesingers of sufficient strength can retain control of the Wraithbone they make." Milethea spoke cautiously. "The message Seridin heard is most likely one usage of that ability. The Psychomatons and the Shard of Khaine may be merely biding their time, waiting to speak to the children of Iyanden when they are most vulnerable."

"That is an unwarranted accusation, Milethea." Eluriane warned. "Horrible he may be, but Kaela Mensha Khaine is Asuryan's brother and our spiritual father. It is his strength we borrow in order to protect ourselves from the daemons, and his Path that the Asuryani tread." There was a tinge of anger in her voice, even though she used the Blood Handed God's full title.

As the Farseer who was once enamored by the Harlequin, she knew all the legends and folktales of their deities. The admission of his murder of Eldanesh juxtaposed to his importance as their god of war was made as a stark reminder that although he was horrid, he was necessary to them in more ways than one. As a Craftworld that had already decided to start the Aspect Shrines, it was hypocritical to hate Khaine while using him for their salvation.

"Is it, Farseer Eluriane?" Milethea retorted, shrugging aside the poetically veiled message. "Was it not Khaine who attempted to kill us all in the ancient legends? Was it not Khaine that slew fair Eldanesh? Was it not Khaine that whispered to us for the past several decades, driving us all to war with the other Craftworlds and ourselves?"

"Do you have a vision to support this conjecture, Milethea?" Tyrios interrupted before Eluriane could retort.

Khaine may not be whispering to them at the moment, but the pre-existing tensions had not disappeared. Milethea was still distrustful of the gods, the Harlequin, and anything else that was not the Eldar of Iyanden. However, that distrust was not based on mere prejudice but her own personal lived experience with her gift of empathy.

"... I do not." Milethea admitted. "But what guarantee is there that whatever vision will not come too late? Can we allow ourselves the possibility of exposing the young of Iyanden to Khaine's song? We cannot risk relying on the Psychomatons. Even if it takes time. we should wait for our Bonesingers to master this new song."

"May I?" Filimerthex interrupted from the corner, flicking aside the corner of his robe to put the nail file into a pouch on his belt.

"Autarch, this is most improper." Idrineth warned as the man sauntered up to the table.

Mehlendri watched him cautiously, and her right hand moved to the opening of her left sleeve.

Filimerthex observed this from his peripheral vision as he moved up to the holographic projector table.

"On the contrary, Farseer." He said as he joined the Farseers in their circle. "As the Psychomatons are weapons of war, discussion regarding them and their nature are a military matter. Thus, by your own rules they fall under my purview, giving me enough reason to provide insight on this matter." His long nailed hand placed itself on Idrineth's shoulder, who immediately shrugged it off, pointed ears pulling back in outrage like a Gyrinx.

"The Psychomatons are our shared past, and the most ancient of our truly public servants." Filimerthex continued as he pulled out a knowledge crystal of his own from beneath his robe, and sent it to the center of the table, knocking Milethea's crystal into an orbit around it. "They do not lead, nor do they strategize. They exist only to kill, and hence are obedient to the Aeldari's will. Even if we ordered them to go on a suicidal charge into the immaterium, they would obey us as long as we are unanimous in our call. If we ask them to provide the golden material, they shall sing it into existence for us to use."

"How gracious of them to respect the will of the people." Milethea's voice was heavy with sarcasm. "Does that remain true even if Khaela Mensha Khaine calls for them?"

"No." Filimerthex admitted with a shrug. "But, the god of war is but a god. He is our will made manifest, and our rage made reality. We hear his song because we wish to listen to it, and because we need it."

"Then what do you propose we do with them, Autarch?" Ulrissor asked.

Filimerthex waved a hand at the information now being displayed above the table before them. "The Psychomatons we found have been reinforced by the being we all saw. You can feel her touch within them, binding them here as living beings. I wish to see them restored, and deployed upon the Core Worlds."

The other Eldar balked at his statement.

"Have you lost your mind, Autarch?!" Aelondra shouted. "They are the avatars of excessive violence and carnage! How long do you think they'd last so close to She who Thirsts?!"

"Why would you even deploy them on the Core Worlds?" Thulor asked, tone aggressive and angry. "Any ship used to deliver them there would be at grave risk, and I do not see what is to be gained by leaving them there."

"Our recent problems all center around the lack of Spirit Stones…" Filimerthex continued, ignoring both of them. "And the reason for that is the difficulty of returning to our Core Worlds to reap the harvest of our species' suffering and sorrow. At the moment, only the Asuryani can do so. However, they can only provide a certain amount of supply for the demands of billions of souls."

Filimerthex sent another knowledge crystal to the center of the table, knocking the one with the information on the Psychomatons, replacing it with a list of every Craftworld they had contacted and their known population.

"But, to die without one is to mean eternal damnation…" He said grimly. "Making them more precious than food, minerals, or any other item imaginable. Under such circumstances, the only easy way to acquire more is to take them from another Craftworld. That is, until sufficient numbers of Aspect Shrines can be set up and the method of raiding the Core Worlds can be perfected."

The Autarch made a swiping gesture with his hand, highlighting several of the Craftworlds in red, and a graph next to each one showing a steady decrease in their populations over time.

"However, we are already at war with Chaos. Even now Eldar fall in battle against the daemons on these embattled Craftworlds, and their souls are claimed by She who Thirsts. These Craftworlds are the most desperate, and the ones with the least warriors to spare in order to collect their own Spirit Stones. No matter how quickly we move, it will never be enough for them, for they are already losing loved ones. They will take what they think is necessary to survive from those they believe to have more, or are less deserving in their eyes. Hence, whatever we do, war between the Eldar is inevitable even without Khaine's song until this problem of economics is solved."

There was a grim silence amongst the Farseers, for they had known of this problem for some time, but had no way to prevent it. They had tried to buy time by fostering friendly relations between Craftworlds, showing signs of genuine care and compassion for the plight of others, but emotions and well wishes could only go so far. In the end, there was only so much they could do, and it was not enough to stop the coming war; only survive it.

"The Psychomatons provide one-half of this solution of increasing the supply of Spirit Stones." Filimerthex said with a slight bit of forced mirth, breaking the silence. "They will provide the violence necessary to carve a path open so those we send to collect the Spirit Stones can do so unmolested and thus collect greater yields."

"And the other half, Autarch." Idrineth asked, having already seen the war with his own two eyes in the future. He was still unsure, but was willing to listen since the Autarch's words followed his vision.

"The problem with the Core Worlds is their proximity to the Warp." Filimerthex said as he tossed another knowledge crystal into the center of the table. "Daemons can manifest upon them endlessly, meaning any operation upon them deals with an infinite amount of reinforcements." An image of a ruined planet covered by pink purple clouds streaked with neon lightning appeared. "Thus, any operation upon their surface can only succeed with stealth. Yet, with stealth comes a reduction in the number of forces we can carry, and a proportional reduction in the probability of survival should our forces be discovered. Add to that the constant whispers of She who Thirsts, and the Asuryani's Aspect warriors are our only option of safely recovering the Spirit Stones. Their specialized military tactics and unflinching focus will provide the martial and spiritual strength to make the journey to and from the Core Worlds, or at least give them a fighting chance where all others would fail." A list of the projected maximum carrying capacity of the stealth ships that could get close enough to the planet without being noticed appeared. It was enough to host a small army, complete with tanks, Wraith Knights, and flyers. However, in the face of being surrounded by endless daemons, it was nowhere near enough.

Filimerthex allowed the simulations loaded into the crystal to play, showing the predicted amount of time each combination of forces could hold out against the daemons until they were overrun. Then, he smiled and said, "However, what if we did not have to sneak back into our ancestral homes like vermin?"

"A fanciful notion." Serapharielle snorted. "Our forces struggle with the forces of Chaos even far away from the Warp. To fight it head on is folly."

A larger ship might be able to bring more forces, but it increased the odds of being noticed by the Chaos. With the walls between real and unreal so thin near the Core Worlds, any number of daemons could simply manifest themselves near or upon whatever vessel ventured nearby, and begin attacking those aboard before they even reached the planet.

"If we approach the Core Worlds from orbit, or the Warp you are correct." Filimerthex nodded. "But, there is a third option. An option that still allows the going, even if the way back has been reduced to rubble."

All the Farseers balked at what he implied.

"You…" Milethea sputtered. "You dare suggest we work with the Dark City, again!"

"The Webway gates that lead to the Core Worlds still remain intact. Commorraghite suicide squads have destroyed the gateways on the Core Worlds. However, all that did was close the door that leads to Commorragh. The door that leads away from the Dark City still remains. Using them, we can assault the Core Worlds undetected. We will need to send ships through to leave the planet. But, with only the escape to worry about, we can send far more forces in a much shorter time. More Eldar means more hands and minds to gather Spirit Stones, reducing the time we need to stay there, and by extension the time of exposure." His words were rushed, coming before the other Farseers could recover from the shock of his suggestion. "Add the Psychomatons to this, and our people have all the ground forces necessary. They will keep us safe until it is time to blast our way through the converging daemons, and escape into the void."

Mouths opened and closed as the other Farseers processed the Autarchs words, even peeking into the future to see if such a thing was viable. But, before they could finish, Filimerthex spoke up again.

"Of course, Commorragh will need to be compensated for their services, no matter how small. A single Psychomaton will be needed to be gifted to them at the very least, simply to restore trade relations between Iyanden and Commorragh."

"Madness!" Milethea cried out instinctively. "What good could possibly come from giving the Dark City one of the Psychomatons!"

"The Psychomatons do not belong only to Iyanden, or Biel-Tan, or Saim-Hann or any of the Craftworlds. They do not only belong to the Exodites, and they are not the sole possession of those on Commorragh." Filimerthex retorted firmly. "They are the soldiers of the Aeldari, and that includes all of us. The return of at least one will act as a reminder to all that we were one species."

"What else do you need for your plan to work, Autarch." Mehlendri interjected before a shouting match could ensue. Her voice was extremely tired, but there was a glimmer of hope in her eyes.

"For starters, I will need permission to contact the K'nib for a Clawed Fiend or two and some accessories for them, and perhaps a few other of our ex-client races. Then I will need two Guardian volunteers in order to gain an audience with an acquaintance of mine as well as…"

"I have heard enough!" There was a thunder clap as a bolt of psychic lightning erupted from Serapharielle and scorched the ceiling. "You tell us to sell our kin into slavery in order to deal with the Dark City!" She snarled. "Have you forgotten what She who Thirsts is? Have you forgotten how she came into being?"

"I too thought running from our more abhorrent past was the only way to survive, but I see now the cost of living in denial for eternity." Filimerthex shrugged.

Purity and the aversion of all that could be associated with She who Thirsts dominated the decision making of the Eldar. Everything was done in order to avoid damnation, but that meant only the purest and ironically most perfect path could ever be taken. The Autarch could see the uncompromising unrepentant way they would wander down into danger, and until recently he had accepted it as the cost of survival.

"Then will you blacken Iyanden's soul with the taint of the Commorraghites?" Serapharielle hissed, sparks flying from her eyes.

The Autarch shook his head. "It is not my intention to mimic them, but even evil has its use."

He remembered the reason he had been allowed on Iyanden, and the conclusion he had arrived at only a few hundred years ago.

"Besides, they are also Aeldari." He countered. "Ignoring them for any longer will truly split our species apart. As an ex-activisist, surely you can understand the tragedy of that?"

"Let them fall! They had their chance, just like any Core Worlder!" Serapharielle cried out. "It was because I was on the front lines with all those who tried to turn our people from evil that I know the futility of trying to convince them!" She spent several moments panting, reclaiming her breath and calm back from her outburst. "There is no salvation, no alternative, no placation, no message they will listen to." She finished quietly. "The only method to run from Hir call is to remain pure."

"Perhaps." The Autarch nodded, unperturbed by the sudden outburst of rage intense enough to bring about a psychic effect. "Regardless, the utility of Commorragh and its remaining Webway gates are unquestionable. The issue is only how much it will cost." He leaned forwards to Serapharielle, gazing straight into her eyes. "You say two of Iyanden's souls are too much, but I guarantee you they will do far more and be much safer in my hands than if they were sent to die fighting the daemons."

Serapharielle grit her teeth. She had agreed to allow the Path system aboard Iyanden. Thus, she had already decided that there was an acceptable level of sacrifice for Iyanden's salvation. The end result of both proposals was that Eldar lives would be spent to save the Craftworld. How was a trivial matter in comparison.

"Then again, this plan is all predicated on the Psychomatons being in fighting condition." Filimerthex smiled, turning to each Farseer with a placative expression. "You may take your time to foresee the results of my actions while I contact the other Craftworlds."

"The Seer council deemed what we found was to be bound to secrecy." Tyrios warned. "Revealing what we found here invites disaster."

"It invites disaster because a secret is shared, and not used." Filimerthex sighed. "Craftworld Il-Kaithe has the most talented Bonesingers of all the Craftworlds, and has the world-rune of Eldanesh's all-seeing helm. They know the price of knowledge, and what it can do. They can be sworn to secrecy, should we ask for it. In return, we may have to share a Psychomaton and include them in the bargain for Commorragh's Webway gates. Varantha may be another willing to bargain with us. They may have the most artisans, but they too hate Chaos for the way it stifles their creativity. Their assistance may be valuable in swaying the other Craftworlds to our side."

A chill went down Mehlendri's spine.

"How do you know this, Filimerthex?"

This information was not common knowledge, and it came too fluently to be a spur of the moment thing. It was as if he was remembering something he had memorized long ago, like reciting the answers to a test he had already passed.

"Do you think it was chance that brought me to the doors of Iyanden?" Filimerthex answered.

Mehlendri's hand twitched, inching towards the opening of her sleeve. She had suspected it wasn't, but they had both pretended it was only happenstance that brought him before her. But, now he admitted it. He had chosen Iyanden, just as he had chosen the name for his granddaughter in front of her.

Iyanden.

Iyandra.

The reference was an obvious, almost unabashed flattery towards the Craftworld. But, the name that had brought a small bit of joy and hope in her heart when she first heard it, when she was still ignorant of Filimerthex's age and origin.

She took a small step back from him.

He had admitted to her that he had chosen Iyanden. He was giving up the pretense of happenstance and misfortune that had existed between them, revealing the cold calculating pre-meditations and planning of the ancient thing that she knew he was.

"Enough!" Tyrios's voice boomed. "You overstep yourself, Commorraghite. The rank you hold was given to you by Farseer Mehlendri with the council's permission. It can be removed by us as well. It is the Seer council that decides what path Iyanden follows, not you."

Filimerthex chuckled, then turned towards Mehlendri.

"And just what do you see with your foresight, Farseer? What happens when you throw me out of here with my rank taken, and words ignored."