Constance Curze. Night Haunter. Lady of the 8th Legion. Regent of Nostramo. She did not prowl as much as she did lurk and stealth through shadows both real and imaginative. Stories of her brutality to keep her homeworld in check shuddered through mankind across various systems, and the mere mention of her name was enough to keep rebellious planets in compliance during the Great Crusade.
And she was currently weeping.
Artistry and great works of luxury were rent and torn throughout her chambers. Gifts from planetary governors-more akin to bribes to keep their worst nightmares in check-littered the floor. Precious golds and fabrics, relics from bygone eras; all made so much the same in the primarch's hands. Curled on a couch oversized for her transhuman frame, Constance covered her face in a futile attempt to stop various visions that kept tormenting her.
Her father, her true father, blinding her and evaporating her into shadowy mists.
Sister primarchs dead and gutting each other with horribly twisted features. Some grinning, others yelling in vicious hatred.
Humanity itself devoured by yawning mouths made of stars, teeth as tall as mountains and sharper than any blade. Viscera and terror blended together as physical space joined with the unreal.
The sun. Her Sun, wiped out in a supernova.
The weeping turned briefly into screaming, the pitch building to a crescendo that would shatter souls and echo into eternity. But then a hand gripped hers. Smaller than her, more tender than her, but firm in its anchoring grip. "Constance," a voice whispered. "Constance, I'm here. Come back." It was a familiar voice, one that led her back from the roiling madness of her sight.
Intaking a sharp breath, Constance opened her eyes and peered into those of her Sunshine, her soul. "You…you're here," she whispered, ragged breath scraping across a throat burned by acidic bile.
He leaned in to kiss her brow and pulled her head into his embrace. "Always my angel, always."
Angel. That name. It made Constance squirm at times, thinking to be compared to her sister-the true angel among all others. Her and her sons were the dark shadows for the Imperium, monsters made flesh to keep all others in check. She did not need to understand her sisters, the legions, or any others to know that their fear kept the eighth legion at arms' reach. Mankind hated what they feared, but that was fine for Constance. It gave her a dark satisfaction to be treated in such a way.
Yet her Sunshine never seemed to fear her. His devotion to her was a constant source of warmth. Security. Comfort.
It was almost as strong as her devotion for him. As much as a mortal could compete with a primarch at least.
"Breath in and out with me," he said. He was cradling her head in both of his hands. Constance took in his scars and pale complexion, a true native of Nostramo when paired with his dark hair. Though his eyes were dark they held no comparison to hers. Inky pools of midnight stared at his face as he closed his and started their breathing routine in an attempt to calm her. She did not see the benefit to simply breathing, but still enjoyed being close to him. Repeating his pattern of slow intakes and outtakes gave her greater joy simply by sharing the moment.
A small grin crested his features, ones that she could carve out of stone with her eyes closed. The thought strayed to the back of her mind where she started to conceive of where to put a statue dedicated to the moment. The idols and disgusting pantomimes of obeisance she received from planets they subjugated meant nothing to her. But a statue of her light? Her Sun? That would demand a great amount of attention. Perfection even. Perhaps she would contact Circe for a commission.
"What are you thinking of?" he whispered.
"You," she whispered back. Grabbing onto him and bringing him close, her Sun let out a surprised breath as she drew him in deeper. Thankfully, the Sigilite had given them both the gift of augmenting him. A small amount of strength was allowed as she embraced him tighter. Muscles strained and ligaments creaked slightly under the pressure. Her Sun simply hugged tighter.
"I will always be so lucky," he replied. Or murmured, as his head was buried into her shoulder. Constance's dark length of hair covered him as if trying to claim him. His hands drew small circles on her back.
"No one is lucky in my thoughts," Constance said bitterly. It was a simple truth. All of her visions, her future sights, gave her no peace.
"Few times as they may be, you are wrong my angel," he replied immediately.
"Why do you insist on calling me that? I am the Night Haunter. I am no spirit of beauty or redemption like my sister."
"You saved us on Nostramo," he said. He sat up then and looked into her face. Constance looked away, the fresh memory of a sun bursting into light enough to bring a shiver in the small of her back. "Nothing would have given our lives meaning there. But you brought order. Justice."
"Through the pain and subjugation. Men are weak," she growled. "The threat of justice is needed with me. I cannot inspire others to do what is meant to be best for them."
"Connie…" he said. The Sunshine in her life looked on with empathy, but she turned from the light and latched onto the bitterness.
"I am a flayer of men, the threat by my father to bring others to heel. Isis, Circe-they can bring men and astartes together with ease. My sons follow my heels to satiate their hunger for slaughter."
"You bring justice Constance," he returned. "You have the greatest mind for law and know every facet of it across every sector we come across. When you study it, you internalize the law of mankind in seconds despite every world you visit,"
"Feh, law," she snarled. "There is little so much to bring as there is terror in our wake. Would you have us all judge? Abandon our strength in the shadows and the words that come before our arrivals?"
"No, I would have you happier."
She paused. "My Sun, how-"
"You gave me a name," the mortal love of the Night Haunt interrupted. None others would dare do so, yet he alone enjoyed the privilege. "I was nothing, and no one besides a gutter rat in a pit. Yet you call me your Sunshine, something I thought was only a fairy tale back home. And on every world I get to see a sun, and see its light? I understand the beauty of that name. And I get to see how you feel for me by calling me that. So I will see you happy, as your name and every sun bring me joy so too shall I bring it to you."
"You will die if you are with me," Constance said with no amount of fear in her voice. "I have seen it. Multiple times." She turned on him with the preternatural speed of her kind. "Sometimes I am the one to do it. Other times at the hands of those I know of. Then many times I do not." She shuddered as a tear down one cheek. "How do I protect you from that? From the universe that wishes to steal you away?"
"They can try," he said as he cleared away her cheek. "They can try as hard as they can, but I know my angel will always save me." He chuckled ruefully. "And besides, your sons have some form of affection for me as I can tell."
"What?" Constance said, off guard.
"Jago said as such. Though he mentioned it as 'if anyone fool enough to block the light from our matriarch makes such a mistake, there would be no lack of volunteers of us to make them into a coat'." He paused for a moment. "A bit gruesome Jago can be, but I understand the sentiment at least."
"They know without you I would become unmoored," Constance chuckled darkly. A leer broke across her face, but not with the joy her Sunshine gave. He saw it immediately and patted her hands together.
"Or," he offered, "they care like I do how you gave them purpose off of Nostramo and seek to make the universe better. The exact methods may be…unagreeable? But their hearts are in the right place." A smile crested his as he brought his lips to her forehead. "They get that quality from their mother."
Shudders racked her. Thoughts lacking self-hatred or doubt focused simply on love for the man in front of her. "I'll never leave you. Time itself will never keep you from me."
"Sounds like a poem," her Sunshine chuckled. The mirth floundered as he saw the serious look in her eyes. "Or…thank you. Connie, thank you," he said. He moved to get up from the couch, but the long reach of the Night Haunter pulled him close. Legs wrapped around his waist while arms entrenched themselves across his back like bands of cold iron.
Her Sunshine blinked in surprise as she pulled him on top of her, with eyes half lidded in contentment. "Stay here," she said. Not a command, but something far from a request. There was a brief play struggle as he attempted to squirm his way through her grip, but she simply kept him tighter. Again enjoying the briefly tighter grip that she could use thanks to his augmented frame, Constance Kurze relished the body heat of her ray of light and hope in a dark universe. "Stay and keep me here, please" she pleaded.
Her Sunshine stopped his struggles, but managed to get one arm free to cup her chin. "Always," he said. His voice deepened in timbre, and his kiss sealed his fate. For the night. For the future. For her.
Sunshine enjoyed the brief walk away from his and Constance's chambers. His love was sleeping peacefully, for what little time she needed, as they traveled through subspace to their next destination. He felt his hips and back creak with strain, but enjoyed the discomfort for what it meant. Being with a primarch had its benefits. Yet there was also a distinct caution to be aware of. At least his transhuman physiology granted him better recovery. The bleeding had stopped along his back, but he was acutely aware now of the stink of blood he left behind in his wake.
Odd how I notice so much now he thought. Sunshine-a man born of nothing, owned of nothing, and belonging to nothing on Nostramo-was grateful every day to be aboard the Nightfall. Silence was the default status of the flagship. The occasional drip of mechanicum oil, hiss of a pipe, and his clanging footsteps were his only companion. Constance's sons were often elsewhere on the ship. He noticed that though they did not interact with him directly as often as Constance that they gave him something approximating respect. It was only the first captain Jago Sevatar that seemed to talk to him with anything besides a grunt or nod of greeting. The lords of midnight seemed a taciturn lot at times.
"Careful of how your thoughts wander, father," a voice called from what seemed to be centimeters behind his ear. Sunshine cursed and leaped forward into a roll. Turning, he came across the power armored figure of Jago Sevatarian as if the man stepped out of his thoughts and into reality. With a blink, Sunshine noticed a second figure standing in Jago's shadow. His armor bore the adornments of the Librarius and the dour marine carried his staff of his office as Chief Librarian. The two were an odd pair, no love lost between them, and Sunshine had to wonder how the eighth were so gifted at appearing out of shadows and when least expected.
Jago grinned as if sensing his thoughts. "How fares our esteemed mother, dear father?"
Sunshine grimaced. "I ask that you refrain from that title First Captain. You know how it has no place in the Legion."
"I disagree," Jago replied. "All of us in the Legion know what you mean to her. And we can all sense her change with you around."
"Only because it is joy I bring, little else. Constance is still capable without me."
Fel Zharost frowned, a crag bourn deeper into an already mountainous surface. He stood apart as the terran compared to the two Nostramans in front of him, yet there were enough similarities to name him a Night Lord. "With respect, lord consort," Fel intoned. Both Nostramans groaned at the name, reeling from the sheer formality reminiscent of other legions. Fel continued on. "You may give her the joy you claim, but our gene mother is balanced by your actions. Bloodshed and destruction are less evident in our chapter when reclaiming worlds under His name. And you have directly challenged her edicts when coming to judgements."
"Still bloody enough I would hope," Jago said with a sharp grin. Fel shot him a withering look that the First Captain brushed off. "Regardless, you have brought our mother peace and guidance. And we, as her sons-"with a small glance at the terran marine-"have enjoyed her prospects as our liege and mother alike. Yet we are not here solely to sing your praises."
The Sunshine of Constance Kurze nodded with apprehension. "I would guess as much, you always have intent when you speak Jago. And Fel, you wouldn't be here without good reason."
Both men nodded, the former with a sneer that seemed content and the latter with a frown that could have been its equal echo. "Truth. Fel here has had a vision we must share with you."
"Me?" Sunshine asked. "Not with Constance?"
"You," Fel Zharost confirmed. "This vision pertains to you."
"The Chief Librarian has a gift for the future sight unlike any other, save our mother. Yet he has found a new pathway that may interest you," Jago added. The dislike each men carried was overruled by this vision. Sunshine paused before nodding his head.
Fel Zharost closed his eyes and sighed deeply. Frost immediately formed on the hairs of Sunshine and the armor of both space marines. "You are at a crossways, and are the crossways," Fel's voice echoed dourly. It came from every direction at once, and as he opened his eyes black pools of eternity peered deep into Sunshine's. "Every labyrinthine path leads to a new future. Your death, your sacrifice, your disappearance, your everything comes to you from every angle. Black hands of hatred reach out to you through the defense of our Legion, built on a mound of bodies higher than mountain peaks. The Night Haunt crawls and swims through this mountain, unable to adapt to its stream as that of an ocean." The Chief Librarian intakes another breath, and the temperature spikes lower. Both marines are unaffected, motionless as the both of them weather the psychic storm. Sunshine maintains his composure but still feels the icy bite of dread worm its way through. "On the mountain you will lie, on the mountain she will rise. Death in one hand, light in the other. Light blinding, perfect, and spreading to all of us. Death reaching, bottomless, a pit to fall through eternity." With that, the psychic trance broke and Fel breathed sharply as he banished the static clinging around them. Jago flexed and shattered ice crystals around him.
"What," Sunshine croaked then cleared his throat. "What does that mean?"
"We are never much for the positives," Jago grumbled. Fel nodded in agreeance, but there was a new look on his face that was reflected in his brother's. "But our Chief Librarian has given us something we have never had. A potential hope."
"That sounded far from hopeful," Sunshine muttered. "A mountain of corpses does little to ease the mind."
"Father," Jago said as he looked into the mortal's eyes. "You have given our mother hope. A light. Before you, all was dark and death. The usual doom and gloom that every Nostraman knows."
"And now," Fel joined in, "we have seen a small ray peek out in that vision. Within our mother's grasp. We may not know when, but you have given us something no Night Lord has seen before."
Sunshine felt his legs stir in the stare of both astartes. They were always intense, but now there was something new. Something fervent. It was too reminiscent of the times Constance was especially attached. "I see," he finally said. "What does this mean then going forward?"
Jago inclined his head. "It means that all our brothers will have more invested in you and our mother, dear father." There seemed to be no sarcastic tone to the title, or even a tease at Sunshine's discomfort at it. "If our gene mother announces a new plan or tactic in your name, the Legion will move as one to accomplish it."
"Oh. Oh I am not sure-"
"And as I said to you before, any fool enough to raise a hand to you will become a fine trophy. As well as a demonstration as to what will happen to anyone who crosses you. Our revered mother will have her ways above us all, but in your name we will enact great prejudice against anyone in your path." There was definitely a light in Jago's eyes that reminded him of Constance. With worry, Sunshine noticed the same in Fel's.
"Men, I am flattered, but I cannot command a legion. I am no astartes, and I don't have an official title."
"With respect, lord consort, you do," Fel replied.
"I am unsure about that," Jago drawled. "But perhaps we can find a compromise, brother mine? What of Lord Solar?"
Fel pursed his lips. "Not unwise in fact. But what of 'The Beacon'? He brings the light to our mother, and would be a good contrast. Perhaps even a dignitary for the mortal world."
Jago's sharpened teeth peeked in a grin as he turned with Fel down the corridor. "The Beacon will work indeed. Now, we should make sure the men understand what is to be done. When mother is not with him, our lord will need an entourage to ensure his safety at all times. What of the Atramentar?" Their conversation echoed down the corridor as Sunshine was left shocked and standing still.
"Oh hells. Oh hells this won't end well." With a new unsettling feeling in his stomach, the Sun left the darkened bowels of the Nightfall's decks and brought light back to the chambers of the Night Haunter.