New chapter. As always, the next chapter is up on my P-a-t-r-e-o-n, here: h*t*t*p*s :/ w*w*w . p*a*t*r*e*o*n user - ? - u = 52718582 (remove the spaces and stars)
On a world almost ruined by war and sorcery, yet healing now at last, in the depths of a mountain fortress, two gods met to begin their work. One, ancient and primordial, much weakened from what she once was, but still mighty nonetheless. The other, a god who was old by the standards of his people, yet far younger than his peer, unwilling to accept his nature, but with grand ambitions that only the divine could hope to achieve.
And today, they met to find a way to teach mortals how to imitate them.
"I think that you are working on a stronger foundation than I am." Isha frowned. "I know a few divination techniques, but I am not a true seer. You are."
"I have techniques I can use to navigate the Warp, yes. But I have always had trouble teaching others to do the same as I." The Emperor admitted. "Even those of my abilities which are not primarily rooted in my power are…difficult to convey to ordinary humans. I have taught psykers how to navigate the Warp, but that was before the Age of Strife. Now…" He sighed. "It seems impossible."
"So the main issue is teaching human psykers the finesse needed to navigate the Warp, despite its current state." Isha mused. "Even my children would find such a thing challenging, and you would need to be a highly skilled seer to pull it off."
The Emperor scowled. "It cannot be done, then?"
"I didn't say that. I said it would be challenging." Isha replied as she mulled the matter over. "I believe it can be done, however, and at the very least, we have a model to begin working from, with the techniques you developed and those of my children. It will, as always, take time. But I do have something that will make the process easier."
"Oh?"
Isha paused for one moment, her aura swirling with a hint of uncertainty and hesitation before becoming resolute. She raised a hand, and power swirled in her palm in the form of a dazzling corona of rainbow light, before coalescing into a less bright but no less beautiful emerald gem.
"Dreamstones, my children called them, because I used them to speak to them through their dreams." Isha's teeth flashed in a smile, but there was no humour in it, only bitterness. "Sometimes, at least. More commonly, they called them the Tears of Isha."
"These are the gems you used to communicate with your people after Asuryan's Edict." The Emperor recalled the myth of how the Eldar and their gods had been separated. "But how will they help with our goal?"
"They are not only a method of communication." Isha corrected. "They can also be used to shield the minds of mortals psychics from the whispers of Daemons, to let them wield the Warp powers more safely and smoothly."
The Emperor processed that for a moment, his mind spinning through the possibilities. "That would be an incredible boon to all psykers, not merely the navigators." He murmured. The idea of being reliant on Isha for yet one more thing was not one he liked, but the benefits…
Isha nodded. "Indeed. And, I can teach you how to make them."
The Emperor's eyes widened and he examined Isha closely, looking for any hint of deceit. "Just like that?" He said slowly. If he could learn to replicate that process…dreamstones were just the beginning. The possibilities were endless.
Isha smiled thinly. "Not quite. I do have a price in mind, though I do not think it is anything you will find troublesome."
"And that is?"
"One favour," Isha said, raising a finger. "To be called in at a later date."
The Emperor considered it for a moment. "Within reason. I will not grant you a favour greater than the value of the dreamstones."
"Within reason." Isha agreed. "I will not ask for anything out of bounds when the time comes."
This was the first time Isha had demanded a price for her aid, a vague favour rather than clearly explaining what she desired, and truth be told, it made the Emperor a little uneasy…but Isha had earned at least this much. When she said she would not ask for anything excessive, he believed it.
"Very well, consider it done." The Emperor replied. "Now, show me how I can create these dreamstones."
Isha nodded. "The dreamstones are born of my love for my children, my desire to protect them, to allow them to flourish safely. There is more to their creation, of course, but if you wish to create dreamstones, you must pull on your love for humanity, and give it shape."
If the Emperor had been an ordinary human, he would have choked and gone bright red at Isha's words. Pull on his love for humanity?
He loved humanity, of course, he did. That was why he was doing all this. But he also had to be pragmatic, to measure the lives of ordinary humans and how much they are worth compared to the existence of humanity as a whole in the long run.
Why was he even surprised? Isha was perhaps the single most sentimental person he had ever known, and he knew the myth of her Tears. Of course, love was a factor.
Isha was waiting for his response, a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes. She knew exactly what she was asking of him.
Fine. He had done far more difficult and terrible things in his life than this. Tapping into his…love for humanity and forging into a shield was hardly a sacrifice.
"Very well. How do we begin?"
"Let's start with the simplest method. In time, you will be able to simply will the dreamstones into existence, as I can, and I do not think it will take you long. But to begin with, a medium will be required."
"A medium?" The Emperor queried. "A device to help me forge the dreamstones?"
Isha seemed to reconsider her words. "A medium is perhaps not the most accurate way to describe it. Consider it more…a forging technique, Vaul would have said. A method of shaping energy into the form you desire, until it is second nature. The most common method that my people have used is music."
Bonesinging. Ruthlessly suppressing his excitement, the Emperor replied as calmly as he could. "A demonstration then, if you will?"
"Of course." Taking a deep breath, Isha began to sing.
It was a melody that the Emperor had never heard before. It resonated in both the Materium and the Immaterium as if two people were singing at once, and yet, it was undeniable that it came from the same source. It was perhaps the most beautiful music he had ever heard.
And above all, it was sad. It was beautiful, yes, but haunting. In his mind's eye, he could see the images conjured by the song, of children screaming in pain and agony, their cries echoing across the stars. And a mother's desperation as she was unable to answer their calls, her tears flowing endlessly even as they turned to ice amidst the winter conjured by grief.
Until, at last, a silvery figure with a hammer in hand appeared to lend her his aid.
The love and sorrow that was contained in the music would have brought any human to their knees, leaving them filled with such unbearable, agonizing despair that they might never know happiness again.
But to the Emperor, the sorrow in the melody was all too familiar. How many times had he felt these same emotions over the ages, watching humanity rise to the highest peaks and then fall because of their folly? Consumed with anger, a desperate wish that people would just stop hurting themselves, and yet an inability to let go of his attachment to mankind no matter how great his disappointment and bitterness.
But there was a clear pattern to the music as well. It was shaping the currents of the Warp, purifying the taint and bending the power into a shield, small yet immensely potent. Countless daemons shrieked impotently with rage as the melody drove them away, effortlessly repelling their attempts to disrupt it, banishing them far, far away.
A dreamstone took shape in Isha's palm once more, more slowly and deliberately this time, letting him analyze the process.
At last, the dreamstone was forged and the melody ended.
The Emperor maintained a calm expression, though he knew it was likely pointless. Isha was uncannily good at reading him.
"That was…interesting." The Emperor said finally. He regretted it even as he said it, but he could think of nothing else.
Isha nodded, and to his secret relief, said nothing about his turmoil. "You need not replicate the melody precisely. It would likely be counterproductive to do so since the personal touch is important. But it should give you an idea of where to start. Shall we begin?"
"Yes, let's." The Emperor steeled himself.
He could do this.
He couldn't do this.
The Emperor glowered down at the golden crystal in the palm of his hand. Aesthetically, it was perfect. Beautiful and gleaming, with a perfect atomic structure, it was valuable enough to have elevated a common family in the Imperium to the wealth of the highest nobles.
It was also entirely useless. Unlike Isha's dreamstones, it was entirely incapable of driving away daemons and shielding the minds of ordinary psykers. It could store small amounts of psychic energy, but not for long.
Despite his best efforts, all he was doing was crafting ordinary physical matter from the Warp, as he had done for centuries, with only a few minor improvements. Nothing like a dreamstone or wraithbone.
With a scowl, the Emperor tossed the crystal aside, and it landed in the growing pile on the table, where several dozen of his previous attempts lay.
"What," He nearly snarled. "Am I doing wrong?"
Isha's expression was one of poorly concealed amusement as she replied. "You are doing nothing wrong. You are learning at an incredible rate."
"I am learning nothing. These crystals are all useless." The Emperor said sourly. "I could have made them without anything you've taught me."
"Perhaps. But the practice for the melody is still important." Isha said patiently. "You will learn. We have been at this for less than an hour. It would take even the most talented of my children days to achieve this much progress. Do not be so impatient."
Her words made sense, but they still grated. It had been a very long time since the Emperor had found any new subject matter which he could not pick apart in a matter of moments.
Perhaps sensing his mood, Isha changed the subject. "We can work on the dreamstones later, there is no particular rush. In the meantime, perhaps we should return to the subject of divination techniques."
The Emperor nodded a little sourly.
"Do you have any students currently living who have any grasp of your techniques?"
"A few." The Emperor said, frowning. Truthfully, the only person alive whom he had ever taught in depth was Malcador. He had taught some basic techniques and impressed warnings upon the founders of the Battle Psyker division almost a century ago, and more recently, given some lessons to the psykers that had popped up among the Space Marines, particularly the Fifteenth Legion. "Why do you ask?"
"I would like to speak to them, to see how they handle the Warp and how my knowledge might be useful to them," Isha answered. "As it is, I have only ever seen you and Malcador wield such power, and you two are not exactly representatives of what normal humans are capable of."
The Emperor's lips thinned. "Must you speak to them directly? If they realize what you are capable of and become curious as to where your knowledge comes from, then they might realize that you are not human."
"If you wish, I can observe from a remote distance while you or Malcador ask the questions, but I do need these questions answered."
The Emperor considered it. It was a valid point, and if he was going to develop warp navigation techniques to teach to mortal psykers, it might not be a bad idea.
"...very well, I will give the orders. However, I must insist we consult Malcador first. He was not always as he is now, and will have greater insight into such than either of us. Once we have discussed things with him, then we will move on to others."
"Of course," Isha said, nodding her acceptance. "I have to ask, however, I am somewhat curious as to why it is so difficult for you to teach mortals when you spent so much of your youth as a mortal yourself."
The Emperor stiffened at her words. "You saw much of my youth?" He had known the Pantheon had known he existed and had observed him, but he had been unsure of exactly how much they knew.
"Some of it," Isha replied. "The battle with the Yngir shard was hard to miss. It was an impressive battle, especially given how young you were at the time."
The Emperor scowled at the memory. The battle with the dragon had been the hardest and most humiliating of his life. The dragon had been wounded, worn down from millions of years of imprisonment, and had not even fully escaped its cage when he had gone to Mars to fight it.
But it was still a shard of a star god, and he had been young and foolish and drunk on his power, believing himself invincible even though he had not even begun to comprehend his potential at the time, much less master it.
He had never fought such an opponent again. He had beaten the creature and repaired the prison, but the wounds it had inflicted on him had been such that in the aftermath of the battle, he had died. For the first and only time, the injuries he had suffered in a battle had been too much for him to endure.
But that wasn't what he had been asking about.
"I am aware you saw my battle with the dragon. But how much else did you see?" The Emperor ventured warily. For all that Asuryan's Edict would have prevented any actual interference, the Emperor did not particularly care for the idea of alien warp-entities watching humanity from the cradle.
"Not very much," Isha assured him dryly. "We were rather preoccupied with other things. But we did check in every other millennium or some, and saw some of your exploits and slow recovery."
The Emperor crossed his arms, considering it. The wounds the Dragon had inflicted on his soul had left him broken and reincarnating as a normal human for more than ten thousand years. He had died, been reborn, and died again as a mere mortal countless times. In some lives, he had awakened a portion of his true strength and insight, but very rarely, and only ever a portion. As Gilgamesh, he had been superhumanly strong and durable, but little else. As Merlin, he had been a mighty mage and seer, but his body had been fragile.
It hadn't been until more than halfway through the Third Millennium that he had awakened any real amount of power, regaining his psychic gifts and immortality. Even then, it hadn't been well into the Fourth Millennium, after centuries of travel and study, that he had truly reclaimed all his strength and memories.
The idea that the Eldar Pantheon had seen any of that wasn't…surprising. But it was disquieting.
At the same time, what was there to say about it? Most of the Pantheon was dead, and it was hardly as if the misadventures of his youth mattered now.
"During my mortal lives, I rarely awakened any psychic abilities," The Emperor answered Isha's question. "And even when I did, I was stronger than all but the mightiest of other human psykers and had my immunity to the dangers of the Warp. Though as I said before, I had students before the Age of Strife whom I taught to navigate the Warp and other things. But refining my techniques even to that level took a long time, and ever since your children drove the Immaterium into madness…" The Emperor shook his head. "Malcador alone is the only one I have ever had any success with since."
A pained expression crossed Isha's face. "I understand."
"I will summon Malcador," The Emperor said, not particularly wanting to discuss his wasted youth any further. "And then we can continue our work."