I woke once again on my side in a dark place. Thankfully, it appeared I had found my way into conventional reality again, but I couldn't be sure. For now, I was at least grateful that it seemed that I wasn't falling through the Warp without any protection anymore.
The ground that I was laying on was of a smooth cold stone, and the air smelled of ozone and sulfur. In a daze, I blinked, and I could make out the shapes of strange runes, some of which were smoldering, surrounding me in a circle on the floor. A fresh breeze from behind me washed over my side, and the smell of electrical smoke permeated the air.
The runes, they were familiar... I blinked again, trying to understand.
Wait. No, that's impossible! I grasped at my neck, and discovered that I was now wearing the brightly glowing gem that the strange woman had been wearing, only now, its light was dim and fading by the moment. I staggered to my feet, and found that I was barefoot. I was wearing a blue silk slip embellished with more runes that had been invisible to me just earlier. I touched my face, my hair, my body, and found myself to be different once again. Cautiously, I stepped over the ring of runes I had been laying within, and into the rest of the room as my eyes adjusted to the pale half light. My toes immediately met a shard of sharp glass, and I pulled my foot away.
I was in a room of grey stone bricks that was about 15 feet square, with one sturdy reinforced door as an exit. The ceiling was short, and also made out of the same stone as the floor. A single bookshelf lay toppled against the left wall. Behind me, a large broken window in the shape of a star offered some illumination from outside, with no other torches, lights, or candles to speak of. The light streaming in from outside was bluish and pre-dawn, and the air wafting in between the pieces of broken glass was filled with smoke. The glass from the window had shattered all over the floor in what must have been an explosion of some sort. Gingerly, I picked my way between the shards on the floor, exploring the room that I had found myself. In one larger fragment of glass, I saw my reflection. It appeared I now inhabited the body of the woman I had seen in the Warp, with one exception: The lock of hair that Tzeentch had grabbed on my head was white, all the way down to the root. I touched my foreign face and the white section of hair, gritting my teeth. Where exactly was I? Who was I?
How would I get home from here? Was I really in the 40k universe?
My thinking was interrupted by a distinctive, squeaky bark. I searched for the origin of the noise in the strange room. Out from under the bookcase, I saw an animated shadow take shape. Wolfie had followed me! The little dog walked out, as happy as ever, wagging his tail.
"Wolfie! Oh, be careful, boy. There's broken glass everywhere," I said in my new voice. As much as I wanted to, I was hesitant to rush over to him due to all the glass. I noticed that my new voice was more resonant than how I normally sounded, and had a lick of power behind it, which I wasn't too sad about. Oblivious to any danger, Wolfie continued to walk toward me, ignoring the glass under his paws.
I let the terrier walk to me. Strangely, I noticed that his paws didn't make the usual dog-walking-claws-on-a-surface clicking sound. As he walked over pieces of sharp glass from across the room, he was silent save for his previous bark.
"Wolfie?" I kneeled down to him. He sat down on some sharp fragments, completely ignoring the hazard. Squinting my eyes at the dog, I noticed something off.
"Uh, you actually there, boy?" I said as I touched him, or tried to touch him. As my fingers met the black fur on his head, it felt like I was putting my hand on some cold viscous fluid. I pulled my fingers back, expecting some of the "liquid" to cling to me. Seeing nothing, I went to touch him again.
Wolfie wasn't quite substantial, I realized. It was as if he was only half in this reality. He seemed in good spirits, however, and was eager for me to pet him again. I hesitantly reached out, and scratched his left ear, feeling my fingers actually sink a little bit into his form. It was very creepy, but the little dog looked very happy and unharmed.
...HAPPY...
It wasn't so much as a word, but an emotion, and it jumped out from the dog to me. He barked again as I stood back up. Wolfie then vanished from where he was sitting, and instantly reappeared near the heavy door in the back of the room. He stood in the shadows, and from there, I could see that his body had a very slight glow around the contour of his form, like a dim halo. A ghost dog.
He squeak-barked again, and pawed at the door, whining, reminding me of when he was a puppy and when I used to take him for walks. Looks like he wants want to go exploring, I thought nervously. I searched the room for any other exit, which there was none. Slowly and very cautiously, I stepped over the field of broken glass to where Wolfie was, watching the large door.
"I wonder if I'm still in the Warp? Not like I really have much of a choice here," I said aloud. My hand closed around the heavy ring where the doorknob would be, and I pulled. The door wouldn't budge, but then I noticed a latch, denoting that the door had been locked on the inside by whoever's body I was now inhabiting. With a static shock, I lifted the metal latch on the side of the door, and tried again.
Wolfie was eager to trot out into the new room, which appeared to be a study. A tiny overhead lamp bathed the space in pleasant, amber light, and another door lay securely closed a few paces away. To my right, there was finely carved wooden desk with a similarly decorated wooden chair. A little alien plant resembling a blue cactus sat on the desk corner. To my left, a bookshelf filled with various strange books. It was here that I saw an indication that I was in the 40k universe, since I recognized some of the chaotic symbols decorating the spines of the books (well, either that I was in some mega-nerd's basement). Very apparent were the symbols of Tzeentch and Chaos Undivided. I should probably avoid those books, I thought.
The records were of various names and subjects, which I could understand, for the most part. Apparently, Low Gothic was actually English, and High Gothic was Latin-esque. These eclectic titles offered additional confirmation that I was in the 40k universe with over the top grimdark names like "Maleficariaem Abyssus", "Tenebrous Eternai" and "Imperium Ex Infernis." There were more mundane names like "History of the Golwyn Belt", "Inquisitor's Guide to Lesser Daemons", and "Wartime Recipes from the Kitchens of Cadia", which made me smile. I stood perusing the books; maybe I could find a book that would solve the mystery of where exactly I ended up?
Wolfie found a spot under the desk, and curled up on an old book as I observed. One title stuck out at me, "Local History of Levant: The Hidden Frontier". The book didn't appear all that worn, nor old, so maybe this had been recently printed. There was something that made it stick out to me, but I wasn't exactly sure what it was. Perhaps this could solve some mysteries? I pulled this tome from the shelf took it to the desk, where I sat down.
The book was a hardback book about the size of a legal note pad. As I began to flip through the pages, a small envelope fluttered out from within, landing on the desk, face down. Curious, I went the envelope first. It was a small thing, about the size of an index card, and as I turned it over, I saw it was sealed with a stamped red wax seal depicting an eagle's head. It was addressed in a fine cursive "For the Traveler", which I had no clue as to what that meant. I touched the seal itself, briefly worried that this could also be trapped, but my curiosity got the best of me, and I broke the seal.
Inside, there was a small note written in the same hand. I began to read.
Welcome, Traveler, to our plane. If you are reading this, then my efforts have been successful, and my soul has been freed from this wretched Warp-poisoned reality. May my body prove a suitable vessel for you. I am certain you will have questions, and unfortunately, I cannot oblige you, for I am no longer here. I can only hope that through the Warp, fate will direct a suitable soul that will offer great hope to the beings here.
Behind the desk in my study, you will find some of my finest clothes, and a travel bag that you can fill with things you may find useful. Touch the stone with the Key you wear around your neck to the wall, and the passage will open for you. May the Key open many more doors for you, and bring you power and glory in this dying universe. It is yours, and yours alone. Let no one take it from you, for it is priceless. May your Retribution be swift, and may you take your fury across the stars and the immaterium alike, for the wrath of the Traveler has no peer. Be wary of the Others, and feast upon those who would subdue you.
May Hope Find Us,
Evanora of Levant, Scion of the East
I clutched the round pendant that hung from my neck. As I pulled it forward to observe it, I noticed that the chain had automatically lengthened so that I could easily study it.
This pendant was apparently called the "Key", although what it unlocked was a mystery. It had ceased glowing, and was now a simple opal-like stone encased in an unknown golden metal in an elaborate fillagree. It was somewhat smaller than my palm, and held an unexpected weight to it. I grazed my thumb across the surface of the stone; it felt strangely warm. The piece of jewelry felt as if it was extremely important for something, and that it held a great power, of which I had no idea.
The letter had been written by the previous owner of my current body, who had apparently shunted her soul off and away from this terrible reality. Good for her, honestly. Remembering the eight pointed stars of Chaos, and the marks of Tzeentch I had seen all over her little library, Evanora here had probably made a deal with the Architect of Fate himself, Tzeentch, which may explain why I saw him. Why my soul in particular was pulled instead of someone else's was beyond me. Tzeentch had said I was a "psyker", and maybe he hadn't been lying that time. In this reality, as a psyker (if I was one), I had an incredible risk of possession or being carted off to Terra to be fed to the Emperor, or just killed purged outright for knowing things that I shouldn't know. The concept of this being my life now hit me, and I began to hyperventilate, my right hand clutching my hair and scalp. I really hoped that I wasn't a psyker here! This had really been a rough few hours. First, my gallery opening is too slow, then someone poisons me, and now, I'm in the 40k universe in someone else's body while my real body lays dying in my apartment.
What sort of terrible joke is this? I screamed internally, clutching the Key with my left hand. Why? What the hell did I do wrong to deserve this fate? I slammed my right fist on the table. To make everything worse, the small potted plant sitting on the corner of the desk spontaneously burst into flames, reducing itself to ash in a matter of moments. Great, so the psyker thing is true, now I'm definitely screwed. I took a deep breath, and tried to relax in this body that wasn't really mine. I needed to get a grip here.
My self pity was cooled by feeling the little dog paws of Wolfie against my thigh as he stood on his hind legs, whining that I was crying. Real or not, he seemed like a good dog, whatever he was. "Well, you're stuck here with me too, huh boy?"
Wolfie vanished and then reappeared on my lap two seconds later, curling up in a small bun of half real dog on my lap. This was going to take some getting used to, I thought, scratching him behind his ears. I turned my attention back to digesting the letter, which was confusing on more than a few fronts. She had not only emphasized the word "Traveler" by capitalizing it, but also by writing it in red ink. She also addressed me as a "Traveler", which I wasn't certain what she had meant. There were also some oddly capitalized words, like "Others" and "Retribution", and my intuition suggested that there was a hidden meaning behind that. The letter also sounded like she wished for me to go on a war path, which wasn't really something I was interested in. I just wanted to go home. Any attention brought to me would immediately get the Inquisition on my tail, and wouldn't be smart at all. For now I would try to lay low and figure things out. I hoped that for me there actually was a way home, and that Tzeentch wasn't just being a liar for fun.
I finally got to opening the book, "Local History of Levant: The Hidden Frontier". I was able to glean from scanning a few pages that this planet (assuming this was Levant) had been conquered near the end of the Great Crusade, and that its strange "Towers" had been a subject for Imperial study for millennia. A crude illustration showed what appeared to be a tower ringed with clouds reaching into the sky. On an illustration of the planet, it showed where these towers were placed. Assuming this was indeed Levant, I didn't have a frame of reference on where I was since the book didn't have a "you are here" marker on the map.
I decided to see if the Key would open the wall behind the desk, which looked nearly featureless. Pulling out the pendant once again, and feeling the chain lengthen, I pressed it against the wall. I was both rewarded and amazed by seeing the stone wall turn to dust before me, revealing another windowless room. It wasn't much bigger than a closet, but at the back wall, there was a small chest and an empty rucksack. Opening the chest, I discovered useful items. There were clothes, shoes, a flask, a compass, and a bag of several gold coins of an unknown mint. What I assumed to be protein bars were wrapped in wax paper in a paper bag. Very useful was the discovery of a mostly empty black journal with a few star maps drawn across some pages. I was able to orient myself using this. I saw that I was indeed on a planet named "Levant", which was far off in somewhere in the Ghoul Stars. This place was apparently on the very edge of where the Astronomicon could be seen, and even then, only sometimes.
I dug further in the chest, and discovered a long black-hilted dagger complete with a leather belt and scabbard. The blade of the dagger was exceedingly keen, and a few strange runes decorated the metal. The pommel was finished with a glittering transparent gem that almost appeared to be a diamond. This weapon would probably be worth a fortune back home, I thought, watching the light play across the fine jewel.
I stepped back into the study with the contents of the chest, and changed my clothes. I placed the useful things along with the history book and the Cadian cookbook in my small rucksack. This slip of a dress wouldn't be good at all for exploring. I chose a pair of rough trousers and a black shirt with riding boots, despite having a choice of wearing fine formal silk robes. Practicality wins out when you're trapped in a new universe. Munching on a protein bar which I truly hoped wasn't made out of reconstituted ground up people, I gathered my bravery, and pushed open the far door.
Ahead of me was a mess. It appeared as if a storm had torn through the interior of this building, as furniture was overturned and tapestries shredded. The study must have been protected, because everything else was ruined. I remembered the broken glass all over the back room with the circle of runes. Bits of morning light obscured by smoke peered down from holes in the roof, and the ever-present electrical burning smell was strong. This appeared to be a fine manor before whatever storm had hit here. Wolfie trotted behind me as I slowly took in my surroundings. Tables carved in strange wood and pieces of art lay strewn on the floor. This classy place would've been a perfect den for a 19th century nobleman in a wealthy part of London. Fresh red flowers which couldn't be more than a day old splayed from a toppled vase. Still observing, I noticed a hearth and two overturned blue velvet sofas and an ebony table. Above the hearth, a miraculously untouched portrait of a stately woman of indeterminate age stood watch over the whole scene. She was wearing a dark blue dress, and in her hand, she held a familiar black book in a fair hand. Resting on her collar, and a focal point for the entire piece, was the very pendant that rested against my skin. It was precious to her, apparently.
With recognition, I saw that this woman was the original owner of the body I held. "Wow, whoever you were, you sure had style. Sorry I'm in your body now, lady," I said to the portrait, who continued enigmatically smiling. The only thing that was different between her and I was that shock of white hair emerging from my crown. The book she held was naggingly familiar, and I tried to make out if there was a title painted on it, which there was not.
The journal! I slipped the rucksack off my shoulder, and reached inside. The black book was smaller than the others I carried, and opening it up, I searched for anything I had missed. It was obviously important to her, if she had included it in her formal portrait. I flipped through the first few pages, which contained the maps and star charts, but after that, there were only blank pages. On the inside back cover "Ad astra per aspera" was written in her hand, and underneath, she had signed her name, "Evanora of the East".
"Through adversity to the stars," I said, remembering the famous Latin quote. What secrets had this woman beheld, and why was this journal important enough to her to be painted with it? Not coming to any conclusion at the moment, I closed the book and placed it away in my bag.
I stepped away from the portrait, and back into the foyer. I noticed then that my hair was standing on end. The air felt energetic, thick, and tense. Something felt strange, odd. It felt as if the air was charged.
...Come... I felt the word suggest to me as I stepped toward what appeared to be the front door, which was limply hanging from its hinges. As I touched it, it fell, and I could finally see outside. Maybe I would do a little local exploring first, I thought, leaving my rucksack inside the manor. I took the compass and strapped the dagger with its scabbard to my hip.
Utter devastation would be an understatement as a descriptor to the area. Outside, I found myself standing on blackened ground, as if it had been struck multiple times by lightning, burning everything. Some twisted gnarls of what I assumed were trees still burned, scorched all the way through, filling the air with smoke. Maybe when I had come through, this storm had happened? Wolfie followed me underfoot. The smoggy clouds irritated my lungs and obscured my vision. Through the heavy smoke, I could not see too far, but I could barely make out a cobbled path, covered in ash. What had happened here? Not having anything better to do, I walked down the path, looking for any sort recognizable thing. Bits of burning ground and broken masonry littered the ashy ground a good fifty paces away from the front of the manor. It was as if I was on a grey path to nowhere.
To orient myself in this new place, I took out the compass. Unfortunately, the compass was spinning madly and refused to be of any help, so I just put it back in my pocket. That wasn't not a good sign, I thought.
As I walked forward, I had the annoying feeling that I was being watched. My instincts were on high alert. This land seemed abandoned, but I knew somehow that it wasn't.
"I don't think we're in Jersey anymore, but I guess this does look like parts of Atlantic City," I said to Wolfie, picking him up as I stopped next to a garishly painted stucco building in the smoke. The dog had almost no weight, and felt as if I was holding a loose pile of snow. Maybe this was all a weird prank and I had woken up somewhere in Atlantic City after an epic bender? I laughed at the absurdity of the situation so I wouldn't start crying.
...Look... Another felt word, and this one pointed to a direction in the sky, where I turned to face.
Through the smoke, I could see a slowly growing multicolored bubble settling downward. As I watched, it grew bigger, and bigger, until at last, it popped, revealing some kind of strange gnashing jumble of limbs, teeth, and colors. I stepped back, but it didn't feel as if this thing, whatever it was, was hostile. I'm not sure how I knew that, probably the I'm-a-psyker-now thing, but I trusted the feeling. It was honestly probably dangerous to trust anything here, I thought, but this time, I went with my gut. I watched the impossible shape shift into a more humanoid form.
As I watched, spindly, insectoid limbs shifted into graceful arms and long legs under a diaphanous pink skirt which grew and became a proper torso. With the sound of a raw chicken being torn to pieces, the skirt became an elaborate baby pink and silver dress, which covered the creature as it continued to contort and transform, as if it was trying to settle on what it should be. I was strangely fixated by this odd sight and couldn't look away. A wand, terminating in an eight pointed silver star appeared in one hand, and with that arm, the creature (who was now a she) made a motion over her head, which appeared and locked into place with a sickening wet pop. She had long red hair, and horns that almost looked like a crown rose up from her scalp. Two saucer like red eyes painted a surreal portrait of unnatural debasement. Holy shit.
"Well, now I know I'm not in Jersey anymore," I said, clutching Wolfie nervously. Well, maybe not.
The strange creature resembled something, or someone familiar to me as she smoothed the folds of her dress, checking her manifestation. It bothered me, and clawed at my subconscious. And then, I knew...
Glinda! The Wizard of Oz! My jaw dropped in surprise, and I also dropped Wolfie, who simply vanished and reappeared on the ground, happy as ever. T-this, this can't... I stood sputtering as the entity glided over to me, smiling beatifically.
"Are you a good sorceress, or a bad sorceress?" she asked me, because of course she did. With a few marked differences (like horns and the large red glowing eyes), this thing looked just like Glinda, the Good Witch of the North. She was all brightness and smiles aside from the obviously daemonic horns and eyes. I really just can't even. This was impossible. This was the 40k universe, right? Maybe this was just a bad part of Oz?
The creature expected an answer and leaned in.
"W-who, me?" I asked, despite there being nothing but charred trees and ash all around me.
The pink lady Glinda daemon smiled and nodded. I saw the slits of its serpentine red eyes dilate in interest.
"I'm not a sorceress at all! I'm- I'm Erika Romanov, from New Jersey," I managed to sputter out in a terrible butchering of the iconic scene in the classic movie. I wanted to curse God himself for putting me in such a terrible position.
"Oh, but I'm sure someone here is a sorceress," she said. "I know that isn't a sorceress," she pointed her wand at Wolfie, who stood up and wagged his tail, oblivious of any daemon danger. "Glinda" looked back to me, and gave me a knowing smile. "I happen to know that ordinary humans don't make friends of astral hounds, which you have done here. He obviously likes you, since has neglected to drag you into the Warp and consume you. Maybe he's just waiting for the right moment?" She smiled sadistically. "Ah, I'm joking, human. Relax. I asked you this question, "Are you a good sorceress or a bad sorceress" because the mortals here have cried into the Warp that their troublesome Tzeentchian wicked witch has seen her manor destroyed by magic, and they wonder what has happened!" The entity waved her wand in the direction of the smoking stone manor behind me.
"I'm not a sorceress at all, I just said, Really! I have no idea what's going on here," I said honestly, despite seeing a lot of evidence that I was indeed a sorceress.
Strange choked laughter blossomed from beyond the smoke, all around me. I couldn't see where it had come from. "What was that?"
"Those are the curious humans. Their senses have been enhanced, so they can see us here; they hide and watch. They laugh because you wear the skin of their tormentress, their troublesome neighbor who did not play in their fleshy games. But now, she is gone, and you dwell within her! You have come out from the Warp and you have stolen her skin!" She laughed and gestured to me with her wand. "The little ones are also likely very curious as to why I am able to easily manifest here. Magic breathes again on this world when the towers fail to light," She clapped her hands, and twirled about in a whimsical circle. "The little mortals here have prayed that their deliverance has come. It is so strong that I..." she closed her eyes and inhaled through her nose, smiling. "...I can smell their hope!" Her eyes flashed luridly with strange crimson light.
"You're a daemon," I was able to sputter out as she continued to prance madly through the bits of ash and what appeared to be charred bone on the ground. I realized that I could now hear very quiet chatter just beyond my field of vision in the smoke. I could even almost feel them as they waited. Being a psyker was going to take some getting used to, it really was.
"Neverborn is the term I prefer, but whatever you like," she said as she came too close to me and I stepped back. She stopped, and smiled. Her eyes like red stars in the smoke. "No need to be frightened. We've met before! I helped you when you were lost!" This was like, the third scary thing that had said it had "met me before", and I wasn't liking this trend.
I then remembered back to when I had seen another twisting multicolored limbed daemon. I had been in the Warp. It was the one who had guided me to the woman whose skin I was now wearing. Glinda was still smiling as she transfigured her hand into the twisted pink claw that I remembered holding me. "See?" She nodded, and the claw returned to a human hand. Oh...
"W-who are you?"
"Ah, I am called many things, but since you are in high esteem to my master, I shall give you one of my names!" In my mind, I heard the words I am called The Changeling clang like a bell. It then curtsied, and physically introduced itself in voice as "Glinda, Herald of Slaanesh."
Of course it was calling itself Glinda, I shook my head, but smiled at the same time because this was pretty ridiculous. Maybe Oz was in the 40k universe? Around me, I heard subdued gasps of awe. What I knew about the Changeling was that it was a daemon of Tzeentch that had a habit of deception and trickery, and for whatever reason, it was pretending to be a Slaaneshi daemon instead. I wanted to let it know that I wouldn't betray it, so I tried my hand (or brain, I should say) at astrotelepathy. I didn't know how psykers did this stuff, or if it was safe at all, but I tried anyway.
I won't tell the people who watch us here, I "thought" to the daemon, hoping it would hear me and also not kill or possess me.
They're fools! The daemon said back whimsically, extending a tongue that had no business being that long in a human head. She gave me a sly wink, then opened her arms in a gesture of welcome all around her.
"Alright my perfect little mortals, you can come out now! I shall clear the air for you, sweetlings!" With a wave of its wand, the smoke began to dissipate, and I saw that I was standing on a path on the outskirts of a village. Slowly, people emerged from the shadows to see me and the lying daemon of Tzeentch. I swear, if they started singing, I would scream.