Summary:
Last chapter our heroes finally had their first interaction after a grueling fight. Thrown inside a cramped cell they all have now to learn how to share their new reality if not risk it dying at the hands of their cellmates. Thalindra was almost consumed by guilt but a Spirit within her helps the Farseer to find her ground once again, while Marcus struggles with himself amidst the new horrible reality they live in.
The Archon of the Obsidian Fang makes his first real appearance, displaying his total lack of moral boundaries and obsession with defeating those who tread the path of Seer. His confrontation with Thalindra marks the Farseer by his cold unbridled nihilism towards not only reality but with her kind. Now that they are all property of Elyria a Succubus for the Cult of Strife, they have to be twice careful to what the Queen of Thrice blade is planning...
Shadows of the Dark City 4
Since the Farseer got back, she lay in the corner, holding her legs to her chest, completely still. Aside from the movements of her slow breathing, Thalindra was completely immobile, even managing to scare her fellow Xeno who was staring at her through his mask.
Marcus would be lying if he said he did not pity the poor Eldar woman. He didn't have any clue what they had done to her, but judging from her reaction, it was probably something horrible.
'If they managed to scare her into this, what would become of us?' The Captain thought with despair. They were just simple humans compared to Thalindra. They were far more limited than her, in every sense of the word, so how could he hope to survive this hell?
How many of them could hope for survival if someone as mighty as this Xeno Witch was broken by these sadistic frakkers?
"What do you think happened?" Ellias asked beside him, his voice riddled with curiosity.
"I don't have the slightest idea..." Marcus replied, keeping his stare on her form.
"She doesn't appear to be physically hurt, at least from what I can see," Darius interjected, maintaining his eyes on the Seer.
"I think they hurt her in a different way, probably emotionally?" Janessa pondered out loud.
"Probably, if it were physical, we would see traces of that. The real question is how?" Marcus replied to the Private's loud musings.
"Hey Doc, you seem to know these Xenos, why are they so cruel to each other? Are they not the same kind as those frakkers who put us here?"
Darius simply scoffed at Ellias's blunt ignorance on the subject. But before he could explain the differences between the Dark Eldar and Eldar, Arandur spoke in an accented Low Gothic, cutting the Specialist off.
"If any of you suggest one more time that we are the same as the Dark Kin, I'll punch your faces until your skulls turn to dust."
The Dire Avenger said this while not taking his eyes off his colleague. Ellias did not like the Eldar's attitude.
"Look, if you want us to believe that, your attitude is not helping."
The Xeno Warrior, in a fluid movement, was on his feet, walking in a threatening way toward the Corporal.
"Oh really? I dare you to remark about my attitude once more, you filthy Mon-keigh."
Arandur was now towering above Ellias, but even this failed to intimidate the Guardsman, who simply stared back with determination. Neither would back down. However, soon the Dire Avenger had enough and pushed the Corporal against the cold wall of the cell. This, in turn, pushed everyone to the ground due to the cramped space they were in. In a matter of instants, he was standing above the soldier, fist drawn, ready to pummel Ellias.
But one thing surprised them all: just as his fist was millimeters from connecting with the Corporal's nose, Arandur was groaning as if struggling with something, and then all eyes turned towards Thalindra, who was now standing, her hand in the air, the energy emanating from her eyes.
"Enough, Arandur Swiftblade." Her voice carried an ethereal echo, void of any emotion. This was enough to break the fight as Arandur released the human, walked back to his place, and sat with his back against the metal bars.
And just as she intervened, Thalindra was back in her same spot, in the same position. Marcus was thankful for her intervention, not knowing what he'd do if the enraged Eldar warrior decided to kill them. In their situation, such an outcome meant certain death.
With this attitude, this Eldar woman managed to gather his sympathy. She could have just let her friend end them; for all he knew, maybe what Ellias said was a huge offense, and in his eyes, they were deserving of retaliation. Even though he failed to understand that such an innocent question could have warranted such a violent response. But hey, they were Xenos, so everything about them made little to no sense.
Especially the woman called Thalindra, who was one of the biggest mysteries of his life. She tried to approach them in a friendly manner, introduced herself, and seemed cordial enough to not be outright considered a threat, but Marcus knew better. Most of the time on the battlefield, if someone was too kind or gentle, that meant this individual was a "schemer," trying to win people over with affection and camaraderie so that once you turn your back to them, they step in to finish the job.
And this weirdly beautiful Xenos rang every alarm bell in his head. For him, Thalindra was one of those, until this very moment. She could have just let Arandur kill them or used the fact she saved them to retry her peaceful approach, but no. The Witch just saved them, turned her back, and started to shut herself off once again, as if this was a Commissar separating a casual brawl between soldiers.
She had his compassion, but still, Thalindra was a Xenos, one very powerful and dangerous. The Farseer may have saved them from her partner's wrath, but this did not excuse the fact that Marcus felt unnerved by her presence. 'A powerful being such as this should never exist,' was all he could think of when pondering her. But just as he was haunted by her powers and abilities, her appearance was another thing that highly confused him.
He did not have many experiences with Xenos, and when he did, they were usually very alien-like beings who looked nothing like humans. So when she took her mask off and what greeted him was a very human-like face with almond-shaped eyes, this deeply shocked him. But the worst part was the fact that she was beautiful; everything about her portrayed elegance, finesse, and power. Also, her eyes...the aquamarine of her irises was hypnotic, the perfect blend of green and blue, both working in perfect harmony, giving her gaze an aspect of calm and mystery.
All of this situation was beyond confusing. Marcus was not supposed to find any type of Xeno attractive. This went against all his beliefs. The mere thought of delving into such a dangerous line of thinking could brand him as a traitor in the Emperor's eyes.
Then a very sudden movement caught his attention as her right ear twitched. It was very quick and almost imperceptible, but he saw her pointy knife ear wiggle a little as if hearing something in the distance.
Marcus tried looking around to see what she was hearing. He turned to the right and then left, failing to spot anything of relevance aside from the Fire Warrior who was sitting still with his head hung low as if in meditation.
'The focus of this guy is insane. Not once after we arrived here did he stop praying and meditating, even with the fight,' the Officer thought with respect towards the Tau, noting the discipline and will to sit still, unmoving for so much time.
Kais lost it all in this damned city. The Fire Warrior was beyond furious about losing his brothers-in-arms in such a brutal and barbaric way. He had certainly heard from the Ethereals about the danger the Dark Eldar posed to the galaxy, but never once did he believe he would face them in combat.
Their forces were already far too occupied fighting off the Orks to consider a new enemy coming from the flanks. The entire defense line was broken by those maniacs, making their efforts null. The Greenskins soon overran their positions and destroyed the cities they were tasked to defend.
His entire squad had been captured before the line fell; they could only helplessly hear their comrades being torn apart by the hordes of Orks. The next thing Kais knew, they were being taken to fight in this hellhole. Back to back, they tried to hold them off; they even managed to fight off the horde of poorly clad Drukhari, but nothing had prepared them for the next contestants.
They were eliminated one by one, their deaths only serving as entertainment for these vermin. They had trained so hard and fought so hard throughout their lives to advance the Greater Good, only to be captured and die for the petty amusement of these fools.
Fio'el T'au'keth, Shas'vre Kais'ro, Aun'o Vior'la'rai, Por'ui Sa'cea'dem, and Shas'ui Dal'yth'ka were the names of some of his brothers and sisters who died in the grounds of this damned arena. They were supposed to have a warrior's death that would further the purpose of their species, the purpose of their existence—not like this...
Kais's fury rang through his thoughts. Hell would freeze over twice before the Fire Warrior would forget what these bastards had done to them. He would, till his last breath, make them pay; their deaths would be honored by his pulse gun as he tore them apart with precision.
His goal was simple: to kill as many of these bastards as he could before finally dying. This was his purpose as a warrior now. The might of the Tau would be represented by his devotion and strength to this purpose.
For that, Kais of the Fire caste swore that until the last moment he drew breath, he would spend it calculating and preparing for the Drukhari's demise.
Marcus could only wonder what went through this Xeno warrior's head, but his face betrayed no emotion aside from the focus which was outlined on every crevice of his face.
He turned his attention to Arandur, the Eldar warrior, whose stare was now on the ground. The Guardsman tried to absorb as much information as possible, from his armor to his fancy helmet. Marcus stared hard, trying to understand who this guy was.
Very differently from Thalindra, he was the embodiment of arrogance and cockiness, his attention solely on them the moment they woke up in this place. While his gaze wasn't on them, Marcus was certain he still kept close attention towards him and his battle brothers.
From his overall demeanor, he was certain this Xeno was an experienced fighter, his movements and precision being great indications of that. To be honest, the Captain could not understand how Ellias dared to face him.
The Dire Avenger was staring at him now, his gaze through the lenses of the helmet impassive, betraying no emotion.
"Why are you staring at me, Mon-keigh?"
He said, his voice sounding unamused as if bored from having to talk to him.
"Learning," was all Marcus replied to Arandur's question. The Eldar turned his gaze towards the Guardsman.
"What is there to learn, human? Is it not bad enough that we are stuck here together?"
The Captain just raised his shoulders at the Eldar's hostile questions. Tired of this charade, even he had limits when it came to attitude, so if he could try to proverbially punch some sense into this arrogant Xenos, he would, even if it cost him his teeth...or skull.
"Learn why you're so different from her. From the moment we reached this cell, you've been nothing beyond an ass, while she was kind and gentle."
His words hurt the Xeno's ego as he once again prepared to raise himself from the ground, but before he could, a hand caught him. Thalindra did not change positions, aside from her right hand that was holding the Dire Avenger's wrist.
In an instant, he was on the ground again, this time in a lotus position. His demeanor pacified. Silence permeated the environment as everything settled into monotony once again.
Marcus sighed, still staring at the immobile woman in the corner of the cell.
"Hey...Lady Thalindra?" the Captain tried in his most gentle tone possible, which was a very strange mix of his stoic self and awkwardness.
Her ear twitched once again as if signaling him to continue.
"What happened?" He tried to sound as empathetic as he could.
"Nothing. Don't worry about me, I'll be fine." Her answer was short and devoid of emotion, said in such a way that it appeared almost mechanical, her back still turned to him.
Well, one thing he was certain of was that whatever happened deeply affected her, but Marcus opted to simply let her be. Supporting his back on the wall behind him, the Imperial tried to think of other things while rolling his prized book into his pocket.
Thalindra was back in the gardens of Ulthwe staring at the Spirit wearing Kaelaith's face.
"Why am I here again?" The Farseer asked frustration on her face, wanting to be left alone in her own thoughts.
"I've already answered this in our first conversation. Maintaining you whole..." The Entity remarked in a gentle tone.
"Well you don't need to pull me here every time I face suffering or trauma, I can meditate you know?" The Farseer was annoyed now, she was happy for the help of this spirit, but she did not want it to intervene in any small step she took on her path. Thalindra has been a Farseer for more than two thousand years, faced many enemies, and brought victory to her people and home so many times, she was no stranger to trauma or loss.
"You used to be this Thalindra, but not anymore." It answered in a serious tone interjecting into her thoughts.
There it was that same implication that something had changed in her. Deciding to be direct with this Warp Being Thalindra asks something she had on her mind since their first conversation.
"What do you mean by "I used to be this Thalindra"? Last time I checked I am still me."
A small smile adorned the being's face as it stopped to think.
"Your path diverged as I said before. Have you ever heard about the "Path of the Soul"?"
Thalindra was aware of many aspects of her culture taught directly by Eldrad, but this one while she did know by mention was a very obscure subject to her.
"I heard about it, but I didn't study this enough to understand it."
"Don't blame you, this path was far more common before the fall when She-Who-Thirsts was not awake. But some still tread it." The Spirit answered while staring at her eyes.
"Okay, what of it?" Thalindra asked directly wanting to better understand what the Entity was getting at.
"Thalindra you changed your path the moment you saved those humans. You decided to change the course of your life right there at that moment."
Its answer confused her even more, not understanding the meaning of this spirit's words.
"I'm still a Farseer of Ulthwe nothing has changed," Thalindra answered angrily now, tired of this whole debacle that made no sense to her.
"Are you certain of that though? When was the last time the innate desire to peer the threads of fate took hold of you?" The answer was gentle and disarming, nudging her to reach a conclusion.
"Well just before arriving here..." The Seer answered confused.
"Why didn't you feel inclined to do that in the arena?"
"The suppression field cripples my powers and you know that..."
"All of them?" The reply was quick and precise.
"Yes all of them," Thalindra answered matter of factly as if it were the most obvious thing in existence.
"Try to read the thread of what the next fight will be like." The spirit commanded leaving no room for an argument.
The Farseer rolled her eyes in annoyance but still complied with the entity's will, summoning the runes of vision she started moving them around in a pattern searching for the one who would bring forth the next battle destiny.
Then it came to her a vision, it was extremely chaotic a bunch of Orks running past her in a frenetic haze. Then when she looked behind her she could see trenches, the humans and Tau firing upon the incoming hordes of green skins. Arandur stood amongst many of them slicing through them as if they were made of clay, she was beside her friend fending multiple of the green warriors.
The vision appeared to be fuzzy and unfocused, lacking the usual cohesion and clarity she experienced when peering at fate. Then came the spirit's voice in her head 'The suppression field can meddle into your visions and distort them, but you're still able to peer at the threads'.
Then just as she entered this vision she was pulled back to the gardens once again.
"You still can see into future time, it isn't the same due to where you are. But still, it works enough to not hinder your path as a Seer. So why are you not trying to see the threads to have an advantage in this fight? Why do you seem far more keen on the well-being of others than see the "end of the road"?"
All of the Spirit's words just helped her to be more lost in this situation, it was right she still could look into their futures and help them in the battle, but she had not tried once to do that since arriving at this place. The urge and obsession with navigating the flow of time was far more tame than usual.
It appeared as if she was not lost to the path of Seer, with this weird development. Never once had Thalindra heard of someone on her path who could simply switch to another due to the very nature of the path system.
" I sincerely don't know." It was all she could muster in response to the inquiry of the Entity. Being lost in this situation eludes her understanding of the Craftworld philosophy.
"Don't fret Mistress! I'll show you what I mean!" With that, it disappeared turning the entire garden into a black void.
Then it showed a planet, in her mind the name of said planet burst forth Haikk. Soon they were upon its surface and at the speed of sound broke off flying toward a mountain that was filled with many lights a great wall door laid open many entered and walked around. Then she felt pulled once again this time inside the mountain itself, inside a little simple shop with a small sign written in very old Eldari.
'This is before the fall, we are inside the mountains of Haikk, this is a trading post used by our kind in a remote past. This store belonged to Eldrain Lathandor a prominent healer' as the Spirit said in her mind an Eldar stepped forth from the shop to stand beside its door looking around as if waiting for someone.
His face is angular and finely chiseled, with high cheekbones and a sharp jawline. His skin has a faint, ethereal glow, appearing almost porcelain in its perfection. His eyes are almond-shaped and a deep, soothing green, radiating a sense of calm and compassion. Eldrain hair is a shimmering silver, kept loose, cascading like a waterfall.
The Healer wears robes of deep, forest green, embroidered with delicate, silver patterns that resemble intertwining vines and leaves. These robes are lightweight and allow for ease of movement, essential for his healing practices. Over his robes, he dons a cloak of pure white, symbolizing purity and peace, fastened with a brooch shaped like a lotus flower.
Around his neck, he wears a pendant featuring a glowing, emerald gemstone, which is said to enhance his healing abilities and focus his psychic energies. His hands are adorned with silver rings, each inscribed with runes of protection and healing.
Eldrain emanates an aura of tranquility and warmth, his very presence bringing a sense of peace and well-being to those around him including Thalindra. This calming aura is a manifestation of his deep connection to his soul.
He carries a staff of polished, white wraithbone, topped with a crystal that glows with a soft, green light. It is both a symbol of his status as a healer and a conduit for his psychic healing abilities.
Soon a very strange scene came forth, an Eldar with a child covered by a brown cape on his back. His face was ridden with panic and worry as he approached Eldrain.
His face is marked by lines of worry and fatigue. His skin, though still possessing the characteristic Eldar glow, looks slightly pallid under the strain. His eyes are a piercing blue, filled with both determination and a hint of desperation as he seeks aid for his child.
This other Eldar wears dark blue robes, embroidered with silver thread in patterns of constellations and ancient runes. Over his robes, he dons a deep green cloak, clasped with a silver brooch shaped like a crescent moon. His attire, though elegant, shows signs of haste and travel, with a few creases and a slight layer of dust.
His hair is a deep, raven black, streaked with strands of silver, indicating his age and the wisdom that comes with it. Normally kept in a tidy, intricate style, it now appears slightly disheveled, reflecting his current state of distress.
"Thank you oh Eldrain great emissary of Isha for helping me an outcast such as I in this hour of need."
The desperate Eldar tries to pick up a small bag from his belt but Eldrain puts his hands up.
"Aranel Thalorion this will not be needed, for I know this is the last riches you have."
Aranel eyes filled with tears at the healer's words, being thankful for his kindness.
"Now come inside there is much to be done for your daughter."
The Healer opened the door for the distraught father to enter, and Thalindra followed closely behind.
The shop was small but well kept with everything inside being organized in a very diligent manner. The walls were painted in a pastel color, and the details of the door and pillars were made from dark wood. Multiple shelves were spread through the walls, and a varying assortment of gems, crystals, and vials neatly organized by color and name were upon it.
In the center of the room was a small comfortable bed made of wraithbone, its color aligning perfectly with the walls.
Eldrain took his cloak putting it in a coat rack, before turning towards the other Eldar.
"So what's the problem Aranel? When did her symptoms start?"
The healer put aside his staff as he waited for the distraught father to explain to him her condition.
"She doesn't eat, or drink, and when she sleeps her dreams are filled with nightmares. All of this started when her mother died..."
Eldrain nodded at his words.
"Put her on the bed I want to examine her and find the reason for this disturbance."
Aranel frowned fear in his eyes.
"Are you sure? You know what our kind thinks of getting close or even touching a Nepha'lim?"
Eldrain for the first time in this vision turned a glare towards Aranel.
"Yes, I'm sure. And I couldn't care less for what our kind thinks of this, I'm certain of the path I tread and nothing will change that."
With that the Father took his child with all the care of the world from his back, putting the child on the bed. She groaned weakly as her back met the soft mattress of the bed.
The Healer then started to take the cloak of the kid in order to look at her. The sight that greeted him was one he was well familiar with, the infamous Nepha'lim, children born from the union of an Eldar and a Human, hated by both species and usually rejected by their parents. But not this one...
Her face is an intriguing mix of both heritages. She has the high cheekbones and sharp jawline of the Eldar, but her eyes, a warm hazel, have a rounded shape and express a depth of emotion more commonly seen in humans. Her skin has a soft, ethereal glow, slightly less pronounced than that of a full-blooded Eldar, giving her an almost otherworldly beauty.
Her hair is a rich auburn, cascading down to her mid-back in soft waves. It catches the light in a way that hints at her Eldar lineage, but the color and texture are reminiscent of her human parent.
She wears a tunic of deep purple, adorned with delicate silver embroidery in patterns of stars and moons, paired with fitted trousers and knee-high leather boots.
Around her neck, she wears a pendant featuring an amethyst, a gift from her Eldar parent, symbolizing protection and wisdom. On her wrists are simple leather bracelets, a memento from her human parent, no doubt.
Her eyes open and close as if struggling to keep herself awake, her breaths labored and tired from her condition.
Eldrain then started working as he put his hands on her temples closing his eyes and taking a deep breath entering a deep meditative state.
Thalindra stands in awe observing the healer working his posture perfectly, his breathing calm and in a soothing rhythm. The Farseer could see what he was seeing.
The kid was mourning her mother's death, being overwhelmed by a sense of loneliness of not fitting into their society. Rejection is a constant in her life, all of these factors pilling up on her already depressed soul.
Then Eldrain searches for something in her deepest memory, one who could help him start the process, of opening up the walls put forth by her negative emotions. Then he finds a song that her mother used to sing to her, one that brought forth the shining memory of her loving mother.
"The negative emotions are overflowing her soul, making her lose grip on herself. She is lost in a sea of bad memories and the loss of her mother."
The healer commented his hands still on her head. The father shook in fear and dread at Eldrain's words, fearing for the life of his dear daughter.
"What can we do healer!? Please I'll do anything just help her!"
Eldrain let out a small laugh, which turned the father's grief into anger.
"Do you mock me Eldrain?"
The healer gently replied with glee in his voice.
"No Aranel, I'm laughing since all you will have to do for now is sing to her."
This confused the father who looked at him with confusion at his words.
"Sing?"
"Yes, sing. Did her mother used to sing something to her so she could sleep?"
The moment these words left Eldrain's mouth something in the father snapped. He broke down crying almost like a baby, the healer did not know if he tended to the father or the child, but he knew pretty well that the child was not the only one mourning.
He let Aranel cry his eyes away, his chest heaving in sorrowful hiccups. It was incredible how simply mentioning a lullaby sung by the late mother had the power to send both in deep sorrow. This brought another small smile to his face, knowing how profound this family bond was.
"Aranel I must ask that you sing for her, hold her like her mother used to. Do that and the first step towards healing will be made."
The Father hesitantly stepped towards the bed kneeling on the ground, brushing the hairs from her face away, then in an angelic voice started singing:
"Come stop your crying
It will be alright
Just take my hand
Hold it tight
I will protect you
From all around you
I will be here
Don't you cry
For one so small
You seem so strong
My arms will hold you
Keep you safe and warm
This bond between us
Can't be broken
I will be here don't you cry
'Cause you'll be in my heart
Yes, you'll be in my heart
From this day on
Now and forever more
You'll be in my heart
No matter what they say
You'll be here in my heart
Always
Always"
The last verse of the song was whispered as he embraced her daughter. Moments passed before her small arms moved to hold her father back a small weak voice questioned:
"Daddy?"
With that Aranel broke once again holding his daughter his emotions being a mix of glee and sorrow.
"Thank you emissary of Isha! Thank you!"
Eldrain smiled at their heartfelt embrace.
"Remember however that the process of healing takes time. You both may need to stay here for some time before she is finally recovered. This is the first step towards healing."
The Fathers grimaced at his words.
"We don't have much money to stay here, and most of the inns won't accept a Nepha'lim or an outcast such as me."
The healer took something from his belt putting on Aranel's hands.
"This is my home, you may sleep there while she is in her healing process. I'll sleep in the shop I have a room at the back."
Aranel stared at the key his eyes riddled with confusion.
"Why? This is your home, I don't think it is fair..."
The Healer cut him, and with kindness reassured the Outcast.
"Don't worry I don't sleep there anymore anyway, so feel free to use it for as long as you both need."
Eldrain smiled, the Father now overrun with joy holding his daughters in his arms.
"Thank you! Thousand times thank you! May Isha bless your lineage and name!"
The healer only smiled back while conducting them out of his job.
"Look if you don't manage to find it ask some of the guards, everyone knows me around this part, they'll guide you to my house."
For the last time, both Eldar trade gazes a smile adorning both of their faces, but then Thalindra was pulled out of her vision towards the gardens of Ulthwe once again.
"This is the path of the Soul. Someone who is committed to healing, and mending wounds. Their focus is not upon conquest or victory, no. Their focus is to help those who need, no matter the cost or who it is."
The Spirit explained to her, its patient gaze upon her.
Thalindra now remembered more of this path. It was common in pre-eldar society, those who chose this were healers and helped those in need, many searched for their aid and wisdom.
To follow this path the Eldar would need to have trodden the path of Seer, at that time the paths worked differently since it wasn't a tool to stave off She-Who-Thirsts, but more like a career or lifestyle. So Seers were not lost to their path as it is in current time, they were far more flexible and adaptable, this being one of the reasons this path became so rare.
Then came the matter of their patron. During this era Isha was still amongst the pantheon, she was the patron of the followers of the Path of Souls, but now Mother Isha was long gone to the gardens of Nurgle. Making all who tread this path without a guiding light or voice.
And the last came out of necessity, at this time the galaxy was stable, and there were no She-Who-Thirsts and Imperium of men. The Eldar ruled the galaxy and had no real competitors who could contest their claim. So healers worked as ambassadors helping to bridge the Eldar empire with other species, working as peaceful negotiators that brought healing and peace in the name of their mighty Empire. Now the galaxy lay in ruin, war in every corner of it, the Eldar were fragmented, and the species that still existed were deeply xenophobic and outright violent towards them, so is no wonder this path became so rare amongst her kind.
"So you mean to tell me that I'm following a new path...this being the Path of Souls?" Thalindra asked trying to confirm her suspicion.
"Yes." The Spirit was as always direct, leaving no room for arguments.
"Okay, but pardon my ignorance...How does this work exactly?"
The answer was quick and direct just as the last one.
"Keep doing what you're doing, you are on the right path towards your destiny."
Thalindra now felt the need to question, even more so after the recent events with the Archon. The feelings of inadequacy and failure take hold of her heart once again.
"So was me failing to save one of my men's souls the right path? Was I being such a fool that was unable to sacrifice mere Mon-Keigh in order to save my warrior's lives, the right path?"
Her eyes filled with tears remembering those who were lost, their bodies floating in a river of blood flickering in her vision, her body being overwhelmed with grief. But then the Spirit surprised her by giving a strong slap in her face, the face greeting her now being of her mentor Eldrad.
"Snap out of it! Abandon the illusion of control." The doppelganger said authority in its voice.
"Each Asuryani decides their paths just as you do, they chose to die following your orders, this was always a possibility if it were not now than later. War brings losses and you know that very well."
"But..." Another hard slap.
"There are no buts, everyone meets their death sometimes, and you and everyone else are no different to this fact of life. They were unfortunate to have fallen in the Dark City, but they could meet the same fate in the hands of the Imperium, Necron, Orks, or the hideous Tyranids. You Thalindra almost met this end countless times so stop feeling sorry for yourself and hold it together." The Spirit's voice now turned gentle.
"You need to be or else you and everyone else will die. You must be the pillar that will hold them together. Not as a leader, but as a healer."
It soothed her how this Warp Entity was speaking to her in such a harmonious and calm voice.
"The Path of the Soul is not an easy one, but only you can conquer it. You must heal the wounds of war, to reunite what was broken, to build bridges that long ago were burned down in the fires of pride and prejudice."
The Spirit then blew a small puff of smoke on her eyes, sleepiness coming to her, as a transcendental peace filled her, the final words coming from the Eldrad copycat being the last thing she heard before blacking out.
"May your love for life guide you on this journey."
Thalindra was curled up in the corner, lost in thoughts, her focus on assimilating everything she had learned in her talk with the Spirit. Many questions danced around in her head, each more confusing than the last.
First, there was the "Path of the Souls" which she was now following. On one side, Thalindra had always known deep down that Lanevar had changed her deeply, but she never once thought it would lead her to change paths. Even more so, from Farseer, who is known for being the product of getting lost on the Seer path. She felt happy on one side for having this opportunity, but on the other, the Farseer was completely lost about what would become of her and Arandur now.
Second was the entire vision of that Healer and the mourning Father and Daughter. All of it felt alien, seeing such compassion, devotion, and humbleness coming from one of her kin. Thalindra was a prideful Eldar, but that never got in the way of her seeing the shortcomings of her people, their arrogance being the best example of many of the flaws that kept them stuck in the place they were, to begin with.
Seeing Eldrain be so humble and loving certainly brought satisfaction and also a bit of despair since she knew that such a person existing in the current Eldar society would be akin to finding a needle in a haystack. Even she had some of that natural arrogance of her race, so if she was one of the last followers of the Path of Souls and had this foolish superiority complex, what could be expected of any of her other kin?
Thalindra needed to be honest; there were some truths in what the Archon had said. Ulthwe, even though they were not murderous xenophobic Asuryani like Biel-Tan, had still done many horrible things in the name of preserving Eldar lives, not caring if the impacts of their actions led to uncountable suffering and bloodshed, as in the case of Lanevar. She understood the need to prioritize their lives over humans since they were on the brink of extinction, but that did not change the fact that they were placing a value on life in general, just not in the same commodity style as the Druchii did.
She did not regret any of her actions in favor of her species since Thalindra knew that it was necessary to preserve not only Eldar's life but also other life forms. However, now she thinks that something could have been done better: to also help build and heal, not only destroy.
They were at war, and sometimes it was inevitable that blood would need to be spilled, but war also created opportunities to rebuild, forge alliances, and mend wounds caused by violence and despair. After each genocide, restoration should follow to not leave the field barren of life. If things continued at this pace, even if Yvraine managed to bring Ynnead to defeat She-Who-Thirsts and Eldrad's plans to restore their kind succeeded, what would be the point if the galaxy were laid to ruin? Barren field after barren field—who would want to live in such a galaxy? Thalindra certainly wouldn't.
Lastly, the giant elephant in the room in her vision burst forth in her mind: the Nepha'lim. Throughout all her life, she had never heard of this term or even the concept of hybridization between Eldar and Humans. This line of thought was completely unnerving to her. How could this be possible?
Their bodies and essence were completely different; even their entire DNA was different! So how could this be? Their similarities were superficial, and everyone knew that so how could both of these alien species intermingle and produce viable offspring?
Her mind raged at the absurdity of this discovery. For a moment, she wanted to consider that the Spirit had lied to her, but thanks to her dominion over the warp and the pathways of the mind, she knew that this Entity was speaking and showing nothing but the truth. In moments like these, the Farseer hoped she could talk to her Mentor and inquire about this particular finding.
This changes everything they know about Humanity to the most basic level. She knew that humanity was created by their gods, but her knowledge was that, unlike the Eldar who were birthed by them, humans were left alone to evolve on the planet known as Terra. Her kind always said that they were abandoned by their creators before they could finish their divine plan and that humans were the mere product of random evolution.
However, if they could, for some unknown reason, breed with them and generate a viable child, that means that this narrative is very unlikely and that the similarities between both species were far greater than previously thought. This is groundbreaking not only for Thalindra but for both her kind and Humans.
Yet her internal musings were cut off by a particular thought that reached her mind...
'If they managed to scare her into this, what would become of us?' Marcus's worried thought reached her. This snapped her out of her reveries.
"What do you think happened?" Ellias asked beside the Captain, his voice and thoughts riddled with curiosity.
"I don't have the slightest idea..." Marcus replied while keeping his gaze on her form.
"She doesn't appear to be physically hurt, at least from what I can see," Darius interjected while maintaining his attention on the Seer.
"I think they hurt her in a different way, probably emotionally?" Janessa pondered aloud, familiar with that kind of hurt herself.
"Probably, if it were physical, we would see traces of that. The real question is how?" Marcus replied to the Private's loud musings.
"Hey Doc, you appear to know these Xenos. Why are they so cruel to each other? Aren't they the same kind as those frakkers who put us here?"
Darius, their medic, scoffed at Ellia's blunt ignorance on the subject. But before he could clarify the differences between the Drukhari and Asuryani, Arandur spoke in accented Low Gothic, cutting the Specialist off.
"If any of you suggest one more time that we are the same as the Dark Kin, I'll punch your faces until your skulls turn to dust."
The Dire Avenger said this while not taking his eyes off the Corporal. Ellias did not like the Avenger's attitude.
Things would certainly get heated if the Farseer did not intervene, but Thalindra stayed put, waiting for her brother-in-arms to be the bigger person, and chose to approach this in a non-violent manner.
"Look, if you want us to believe you, your attitude is not helping."
The moment these words left the human's mouth, she knew Arandur would not be the bigger person. The warrior, in a fluid movement, was on his feet, walking threateningly toward the Corporal.
"Oh really? I dare you to remark about my attitude once more, you filthy Mon-keigh."
There it was, the well-known arrogance of her kind, one that even she was not immune to. The Seer was torn between intervening now or leaving the warrior to resolve the issue since what this Guardsman said was highly offensive to their culture. But still, she couldn't blame him, since he was completely ignorant of her kind.
Arandur was now towering above Ellias, but even this failed to intimidate the Corporal, who simply stared back with determination. Neither would back down. However, soon Arandur had enough and decided to choose the violent approach to solve this, pushing the Corporal against the cold wall of the cell, in turn, sending all the humans to the ground due to the cramped space they were in. In a matter of instants, her friend was standing above the soldier, fist drawn, ready to pummel Ellias.
Having enough, Thalindra got to her feet, calling her powers to stop the incoming blow toward the Guardsman's face. Arandur's fist stopped millimeters from connecting with the Corporal's nose. The Eldar was groaning as if struggling with her, still determined to hurt the human. Then all stares turned toward her, hand in the air, energy coming from her eyes.
"Enough, Arandur Swiftblade." Her voice carried an ethereal echo, void of any emotion. This was enough to break the fight and the rising fighting spirit of Arandur, who released the human, walking back to his place in resignation, sitting with his back against the metal bars.
Just as she intervened, Thalindra returned to her same spot in the same position. Silence settled over the ambient once again. She knew that the human Captain was thankful for her intervention, not knowing what he'd do once the enraged Eldar warrior decided to kill their group.
With this attitude, Thalindra managed to gather his sympathy. Marcus knew she could just let her friend end them. For all purposes, the Human was even aware that maybe what Ellias said was a huge offense, and in his eyes, they were deserving of retaliation. Even though he was still confused about the real reason for such a response.
But now the next line of thought made her uncomfortable and shockingly a little flattered since he was comparing her apparent kindness with Arandur's arrogant attitude. He was suspicious of her, but the way Thalindra just saved them from what could have been a well-deserved beating changed his opinion of her. Even more so in the actual conjecture where he believed her to be deeply hurt due to some unknown torture.
She had his compassion that was for sure, but still, for him she was a Xenos, one very powerful and dangerous. The Seer may have saved them from her partner's wrath, but this did not excuse the fact that Marcus felt unnerved by her presence. 'A powerful being such as this should never exist' was all he could think of when pondering about her, but just as he was haunted by her powers and abilities, her appearance was another thing that highly confused the Human. And something that once again brought her discomfort from a Mon-Keigh taking notice of her appearance.
But the worst part of it all was the fact that he found her beautiful on a very deep meaning of the word, which went beyond mere savage lust, everything about her in Marcus eyes portrayed elegance, finesse, and power. Mostly her eyes which he found hypnotic, also thinking that her gaze gave her an aspect of calm and mystery.
All of this situation was beyond confusing for both of them, Marcus was not supposed to find any type of Xeno attractive and she was not keen on hearing what this human thinks of her. This went against all his beliefs and this went against her notion of comfort, hoping she could just shut his mind up, but that would mean hurting him.
Then a very sudden movement caught his attention as her right ear twitched. Was very quick and almost imperceptible, but he saw her pointy knife ear wiggle. Shit...she got distracted enough to let her body show discomfort at his thoughts, this caught the attention of the human Captain.
Marcus was confused thinking that she was hearing something around the cell around to see what she was hearing. Never once considering that Thalindra could read his mind as if an open book.
Then his attention shifted to the Tau just beside them. Thanking Isha for this moment of peace away from his strange remarks.
'The focus of this guy is insane. Not once after we arrived here he stopped praying and meditating, even with the fight' the Officer thought with respect towards the Tau, noting the discipline and will to sit still unmoving for so much time.
Indeed Kais was a piece of work, Thalindra knew that well the moment her gaze settled on him. His objective now is revenge against his fallen brothers, his thoughts filled with fury and rage, which he is currently taming with his meditation.
Deciding to follow the Mon-keigh example the Farseer shifts her mind into meditation. Focusing on finding her center and shoving away any negative emotion that could get in the way of her executing her duty.
Elyria observed the frantic movements of the Wytches and Initiates who were preparing large cages of adamantium, running from side to side with an assortment of blades made of scrap, piling them up near one of the arena's backdoors.
The preparation for one of her shows was always the worst part of her job. Having to ensure that everything fell into place was boring when she could be doing anything but watching a bunch of clueless children running around.
Most of the time, she would let her direct subordinates coordinate this procedure. But now that they were having a second round in Muses knows how long, the Succubus had to make sure that every detail of her planning was executed to perfection.
One of the Wytches, who was running with a box made of pristine white human bones containing more blades, stumbled right in front of her, letting the box hit the ground hard. Everyone stopped what they were doing to stare at the Druchii on the ground.
The young Wytch turned her gaze to Elyria, panic and fear evident in her perfect features.
"Lady Elyria, please forgive me! It was an accident..."
The raven-haired Succubus slowly walked towards the clumsy girl, each step filled with elegance. Her hips swayed almost in a feline manner as if she were a predator approaching her prey. Elyria's posture was straight and well-balanced, denoting her status as a proud true-born.
Stopping just centimeters from her, Elyria slowly knelt to be on the same level as the Wytch.
"Shhhhhhh. Shhhhhhhhh. It's alright, child," the Succubus spoke, her voice dripping with fake sympathy as she held the girl in her arms. The desperate Druchii stood in silence as Elyria gently combed her hair with the claws of her gauntlets.
"Mistakes happen. You didn't mean to drop that box, so why are you scared?"
The girl whimpered with each word that left the Succubus's lips.
"All you need to do is say that you're sorry for your little accident and continue on your merry way... isn't that right?" Elyria said with the most fake sweet tone she could muster.
The girl's eyes widened in panic, knowing fully well what was expected of her.
"But didn't you say never to say sorry or..."
She was cut short as Elyria's embrace turned painful, the Succubus starting to put pressure on her hands, her body now circling the Wytch in a deathly embrace.
"Say that you're sorry," Elyria's words were cold and devoid of any emotion.
The sound of bones breaking started along with the Wytch's screams, which were muffled by her aggressor's hold. Then, in a desperate moment, she managed to pull her head away from Elyria's bosom to scream at the top of her lungs.
"I'M SORRY!"
The moment she screamed, the Succubus released her hold, bringing relief to her victim who now panted breathlessly. Elyria stood up in a single movement, staring down at the younger member of her cult.
"Was that so hard now?"
"Pant... pant... No, Lady Elyria."
Then the Raven-haired Succubus clapped her hands, the sound reverberating through the quiet backstage area.
"All of you, want to know what she just said?"
Once again, the Druchii girl looked around in sheer panic, knowing full well what would come next.
"Anella here just said that she is sorry. What is our policy on weakness, my sisters and brothers?"
Then all the spectators answered her inquiry in unison.
"The only use of the weak is to be cattle, prey, or furniture."
Anella's eyes widened in panic, her voice desperate.
"Mercy, please! Lady, please, MERCY!"
But it was too late. Elyria caught her head between her gauntlets, her violet eyes filled with murder and promises of pain.
"Mercy? Are you seriously asking for mercy!? You are far weaker than I previously thought."
Elyria's lips were now millimeters from Anella's ear.
"You're a shame to your cult and our kind. I'll be delighted to see what the Haemonculi have in store for you."
With that, she released the younger Druchii, snapping her fingers.
"Take her to the Haemonculi. Tell them they can be creative with her."
"NO! NOOOOOOOOOO!" were the screams of the Wytch as she was carried away to be delivered as a plaything to one of the most sadistic factions of Commorragh. Silence still reigned in the area, and everyone was still in fear after witnessing the scene.
"What are you all gawking at!? Get back to work now!" Elyria screamed with authority, and all her Warriors resumed their activities, snapped out of their daze by her authoritative command.
She walked back to her throne made of assorted living beings, their constant groaning and pained moans creating a symphony of pain and suffering. The raven-haired Succubus sat, crossing her legs, and stared at her subordinates' work according to her designs.
"You know you could order the slaves to do that, right?" asked Vespera Calith, one of the most prominent Wytches of the cult and also a member of her retinue.
Vespera stood tall, taller than the average human, embodying the typical height of the Eldar. Her lithe and athletic build was honed by years of combat and training. Her physique was a perfect blend of strength and agility.
Her face was striking and sharp, with high sleek cheekbones and hollow cheeks. Her skin was pale but darker than Elyria's, almost gray, shining with body oil. Her irises were a bloody scarlet, and her sclera was pitch black, both filled with a mix of cruel delight at Anella's suffering and intense focus on the tasks being performed. Her lips were thin and usually painted in a dark, blood-red hue, contrasting with her eyes.
The Wytch's hair was dark blue, almost black, cascading down to her waist in sleek, straight strands. She wore it in elaborate twin high ponytails that were both practical for combat and added the necessary allure needed in the arena. Her hair was adorned with silver and black beads, adding a touch of savage elegance.
Giving a sidelong glance at her "friend," Elyria smirked at her question.
"Yes, of course. But then this entire process would lose its point."
Vespera raised her eyebrows, questioning the meaning of her words. Noticing the Wytch's expression and silence, Elyria sighed in frustration as she proceeded to explain.
"This is training. They need to learn how to execute their roles perfectly, no matter the kind. Right now, they are helping to prepare the stage and backstage for the next show. As 'actors' in this little play, they must perform flawlessly to uphold the standards of the Cult of Strife."
Elyria signaled for a very skinny and decrepit human slave to come closer. The slave approached without any reservation, its eyes devoid of any expression.
"Be a dear, slave, and fetch me a good Blood Terrorvine wine. My throat is dry and needs proper lubrication."
The slave turned around and nodded before hurrying off to fetch her drink from somewhere away from the backstage area.
"Well, as I was saying... You need to learn to perform your role perfectly so that one day you can step out there and perform for the crowd where mistakes are not allowed. We are no different from the Harlequins when you stop to think about it; all that changes is the nature of our show."
Soon, the slave returned with a large glass of the red liquid, kneeling while presenting the drink. Elyria took it from him while still looking at the other Wytch, taking small sips as she waved away the cadaverous-looking slave.
"The essence of our craft is to give them a fight they won't forget, one filled with blood, tears, sweat, and guts. While the Harlequins tell stories of our past glory and our fall, both performances aim to please the audience and create memories they will carry for the rest of their lives. But now a question..."
She finished the glass and put it aside, her intense gaze fixed on the younger Druchii.
"Would the Harlequins allow someone who can't perform their role to be on stage?"
Vespera gulped as the Succubus's eyes shone with malice.
"No," was her simple, direct answer.
"Why?" Elyria shot back, her intense gaze seeming to pierce Vespera's very soul.
"They would ruin it..."
"EXACTLY!" the Succubus exclaimed with glee at her subordinate's answer.
"Now you understand, little one. This is their opportunity to learn. Here is where they can start taking their roles in this play seriously."
The Raven-haired Succubus sat there, analyzing the youngling's response with precision and determination.
"Also, before I forget, Vespera... Bring the slaves that survived the last match to be marked. I want this done before the next fight starts."
With a quick nod, the Wytch turned around to fetch some guards to carry out Lady Elyria's orders.
Thalindra knew that Marcus was wondering what was going through the Fire Warrior's head, but his face betrayed no emotion aside from focused intensity etched into every crevice.
The Captain's attention turned to Arandur, who stood beside her, his mind focused on understanding the differences between her and the Dire Avenger, as well as their respective fighting capabilities. He found the Seer far more pleasant and approachable than Arandur, whom he viewed as arrogant and cocky.
However, the human rightly assumed that his friend was a skillful warrior; Marcus reached this conclusion based on Arandur's movements and elegance.
Arandur stared back at him now, clearly bothered by the Captain's gaze, growing agitated under the unwanted attention.
"Why are you staring at me, Mon-Keigh?" he asked, annoyance masked by an unamused tone that suggested boredom with conversing with a human.
"Learning," Marcus honestly replied to Arandur's question, turning the Eldar's gaze toward the veteran Imperial.
"What is there to learn, human? Isn't it bad enough that we're stuck here together?" Arandur retorted with hostility.
The officer shrugged at the hostile question. Marcus was tired of Arandur's perceived hostility and arrogance, to the point of daring to ask a question he knew could lead to trouble.
"Learn why you're so different from her. Since we reached this cell, you've been nothing but an ass, while she has been kind and gentle."
His words were filled with both contempt and respect for Thalindra. This wounded Arandur's pride but also surprised him that Marcus acknowledged these thoughts aloud, given his distrust of the Eldar. Having had enough of the Mon-Keigh, the Dire Avenger rose to his feet, intent on attacking Marcus. Thalindra anticipated her friend's intentions and quickly reached out to restrain him, her right hand gripping his wrist firmly.
In an instant, he was back on the ground, now sitting in a lotus position. Thalindra spoke directly into his mind, her hand still upon him: *Stop. Don't do anything. Honor your path and aspect. They are not deserving of your wrath. Reserve it for those who truly deserve it.* Her words managed to calm the warrior down.
His voice echoed in her mind. *"It is good to hear your voice again, Thalindra. I was worried they may have broken you."*
*"Thank you, Arandur. Don't worry. I'm a Farseer. I know the path I tread, and these vile creatures won't break me,"* she reassured him mentally, instilling confidence in her last remaining warrior. Silence settled in the cell once more.
On the other side of the cell, Marcus sighed, still staring at Thalindra's back.
"Hey... Lady Thalindra?" Marcus tried in his gentlest tone, a mix of what he thought was stoicism and awkwardness, though it leaned more towards awkwardness than anything else.
Thalindra couldn't help but find his attempt at gentleness somewhat amusing and even a little endearing, coming from a Mon-Keigh. She knew he was concerned for her well-being, an unexpected sentiment given their current situation. Her ear twitched involuntarily as she sensed his thoughts and feelings.
"What happened?" he asked, attempting to sound empathetic in his own way. Thalindra knew it wasn't easy for Marcus, who knew little beyond the violence of war and the trenches, to show sympathy in such circumstances. Once again, he surprised her with his attempt to connect.
"Nothing. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine," Thalindra replied curtly, aiming to be direct without being disrespectful, though her need for solitude to meditate and mourn was evident. She spoke in a manner that came off almost mechanical, but it would have to do for now.
Before resuming her inner immersion, a flicker of Marcus's soul caught her attention—a single golden strand that brightened for a second and repeated at intervals. Thalindra discreetly turned her head towards the Imperial, trying to understand what was happening. She observed him leaning against the wall, attempting to distract himself, though his hand fumbled in his pocket, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. Among them, one stood out, which puzzled her further: *My prized book* dominated his thoughts.
Quietly turning away again, she pondered this strange sight. How could such a mundane object as a book bring such relief and joy that it caused his dying soul to flicker with a golden light? Even more perplexing were the conflicting emotions and thoughts swirling around this possession, making it difficult for her to discern its significance.
Once more, Thalindra shut out the world around her, focusing her senses inward to enter a meditative state, allowing her mind to wander through the depths of her own soul.
Marcus lay with his body turned towards the wall, his head propped up on the hard surface as he read 'Romeo and Juliet', trying to shield one of his most well-kept secrets from any curious eyes.
The Captain reread the part where the book mentioned the ancient grudge between the Montagues and the Capulets, which is never explained in the entire text. He thought that the "ancient grudge" mentioned in the story was probably unknown to the younger generation, lost to history forever.
Thus, the younger ones only know to hate the other family without knowing the true reason why. In other words, this ancient unresolved grudge brought tragic consequences for later generations of both groups.
This was one of the things that made this story so entertaining for the Imperial; despite both households being at war for so long, Romeo and Juliet managed to set aside their history of conflict to be with each other.
Marcus could only hope for such a reality in this forsaken galaxy of the Emperor. All that surrounded them was war, pain, and suffering. Marcus knew that there was no space for a tale like "Romeo and Juliet" in this reality; such a thing could only exist in this very old book. That was what made this simple leather-bound manuscript so valuable to him.
Through it, Marcus could forget the insanity of war and trauma, focusing on such a simple yet powerful story about love and unrestricted sacrifice—something he never truly experienced, yet strangely, a romance story was what resonated so deeply within him.
If any Commissar or Inquisitorial agent ever discovered he was thinking such things, let alone possessing an uncensored romance book, Marcus would be thrown into a cage alongside other perceived heretics, or worse, shot dead on the spot.
Such dangerous thoughts permeated his ever-vigilant mind, even though he was no longer behind the dug-out holes of the trenches. The constant feeling as if someone had a gun pointed at his head, daring him to make a false move, never ceased since his first day of service.
Then came the sound of footsteps just meters away from their cell, almost imperceptible. Shoving the manuscript into the pocket of his trench coat, the Guardsman turned to look at the new arrivals.
The first thing to greet him was the red, piercing eyes of one of those poorly clad Drukhari warriors. She had very dark blue hair that enhanced her alluring beauty, but Marcus was already starting to become desensitized to their looks, knowing full well that she was a demon wearing the face of an attractive woman.
Beside her stood another two heavily armored guards with large swords.
"Cousins and Mon-Keigh, my name is Vespera. I'm here to take you to the marking ceremony. I'll proceed to open the gate. If any of you try anything, these two Incubi here will chop you into hundreds of pieces before you can scream. Then you'll all be revived and rebuilt as furniture for our Lady, so behave..."
The Druchii started to open the gate with her keys; the moment the mechanism unlocked, Arandur moved swiftly. Marcus was certain he would do something, but he stopped in his tracks, his gaze turning towards Thalindra. Just as quickly as his movement began, he stood still, waiting for Vespera's next instructions.
"Now, all of you meat, follow me. We don't have much time, and my Mistress grows impatient."
They formed a line behind her, conducted by this despicable Xeno. Both Incubi stood on either side of the group, their bodies moving with deadly precision, each step denoting a great level of martial prowess and power.
Their armors were painted a deep black, and their helmets were a mix of this dark color and golden engravings. Their heads never shifted to look anywhere but in front of their little procession.
As they marched through the labyrinthine corridors of the Cult of Strife's dark stronghold, the walls were made of cold, black stone, etched with cruel symbols and disturbing art depicting scenes of torture and pain. The flickering torches cast eerie shadows that seemed to dance malevolently; each corner was filled with an oppressive sense of dread.
The path they followed twisted and turned, each step feeling like a descent further into despair. The air was thick with the scent of blood and decay, and the distant echoes of screams and laughter added to the surreal nightmare. They passed several chambers, each one revealing glimpses of the Drukhari's sadistic pleasures: a room where prisoners were suspended from the ceiling by hooks, another where a Drukhari meticulously carved patterns into the flesh of a still-living victim.
Marcus forced himself to keep his gaze forward, focusing on Vespera's back rather than the horrors surrounding them. He could feel the presence of the Incubi flanking them, their silent, deadly movements a constant reminder of the futility of resistance. Every now and then, Marcus glanced at his human companions; their expressions were a mix of fear, resignation, and defiance.
Thalindra's expression betrayed no emotion; her eyes seemed distant as if focused on something else. Arandur was unreadable, still wearing his strange helmet, while the Tau's face was contorted into a discreet scowl.
They were led down a narrow staircase, the walls closing in, amplifying the sound of their footsteps. The temperature seemed to drop as they descended, a chill that seeped into Marcus's bones. Finally, they reached a large charred door, intricately decorated with unspeakable scenes of agony and domination. Vespera stopped and turned to face them, a cruel smile playing on her lips.
"This is where you will receive your marks," she said, her voice dripping with malice. "Consider it an honor, for you will bear the symbol of our Mistress for the rest of your short, miserable lives."
The door creaked open, revealing a chamber bathed in a sickly green light. In the center of the room stood a tall, menacing figure, draped in elaborate robes adorned with spikes and chains. Beside her, an array of wicked-looking instruments lay on a table, each designed to inflict maximum pain. The air was thick with the scent of burning flesh and the low hum of dark energy.
"Enter," Vespera commanded, motioning for them to step inside.
As Marcus crossed the threshold, he couldn't help but clutch his trench coat tighter, feeling the reassuring weight of his hidden book. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come, drawing on the strength of the love and sacrifice he had read about in "Romeo and Juliet." In this hellish place, it was his only anchor to a world beyond the madness, a reminder that even in the darkest times, there was a glimmer of something pure and beautiful, even if it was fiction.
Then the menacing figure dropped her robes to reveal Elyria. She was the one who ordered the Warriors to gouge Janessa's eyes; her raven locks flowed behind her as her penetrating violet gaze analyzed each of them.
"Line up in front of me," Elyria said with cold authority. Reluctantly, they all complied as the Incubi pushed them towards the Druchii woman.
"Now, meat, you are gathered here to be marked as property of the Cult of Strife. It's one of the greatest honors any of you filthy mutts have the pleasure to achieve."
She elegantly walked in front of them, taking a long, intimidating look at each one. Then she stopped just in front of Thalindra.
"Hmmm. I think I'll start with you, Cousin. I've always wondered what the screams of a Farseer would sound like. What noises someone like you would make."
Before the Succubus could lay her hands on the other Eldar, Marcus impulsively raised his hand, as if wanting to present himself to a superior. This shifted Elyria's focus from the Seer to him in an instant, towering above him.
"What is the meaning of your interruption?" Elyria asked, visibly annoyed, almost growling.
The Captain smirked at her question.
"I find it amusing how your kind sees us as weak. Do you think we are weak?"
She raised an eyebrow at his question, her demeanor shifting from intimidating aggression to skeptical curiosity.
"Yes, of course. Many of your kind have fallen by my hands alone, none surviving my skills or my wits."
Marcus knew that what he was about to do was suicidal; every fiber of his being screamed at him to shut up, but his honor as a soldier prevented him. Thalindra had spared them from her friend's wrath; she had been kind when none of them deserved it. In a different situation, they would kill her and the Dire Avenger without a second thought. But she protected them; it was only fair that he returned the favor, even if it was just temporarily.
"Oh, really? I survived your previous 'game.' I bet you can't make me scream, no matter what sick things you Xeno frakkers have planned for us. Your worst mistake was underestimating the Imperial Guard, humanity, and especially me..."
He smirked defiantly as Elyria's face subtly scowled, seething with underlying anger. Then her expression shifted to a smirk of sadistic joy, her violet eyes gleaming with malice.
"After all, you Xeno scum lost in Arina to a bunch of pathetic and puny... gurgle."
She caught him by his throat as the Succubus without effort raised him from the ground, her gauntleted hand digging into his skin then she threw him onto the cold metal table, Elyria Vex moved with predatory grace, her piercing violet eyes scanning his face with a mixture of disdain and cruel delight. The air was sucked out from his lungs with the dull thud of his back hitting the metal furniture.
While Marcus struggled to regain his breathing, the Succubus took his trench coat off throwing it somewhere around the room, and in sequence rolled up his shirt sleeve. Elyria then proceeded to restrain him remaining with her gaze the entire time on him.
Hoping to take his attention out of whatever was going to happen he took a look around noticing that the room was dimly lit aside from the light atop of the table, the air thick with the scent of incense and the metallic tang of blood. Strange ritualistic symbols and patterns adorned the walls of this room. But then once again the Raven-head appeared in his vision, her shadow covering almost all the lighting above him.
Elyria's presence commanded attention, her long midnight black hair falling in sleek strands down her back, tied into tight braids to keep it out of the way during the ceremony. Her high cheekbones and angular face, with perfect porcelain skin, added to her striking and terrifying beauty. The dark, form-fitting Wychsuit she wore, decorated with intricate blue patterns and silver accents, enhanced her lethal elegance.
"Let's begin Mon-Keigh," Elyria whispered voice smooth but with an edge that promised no mercy. The Incubi moved with deadly precision, making sure that each prisoner was in place to see what the Succubus would do to the Captain.
Marcus felt the restraints bite into his skin now, the rough leather scrapping upon his wrists. "The first step is to apply a special concoction of antiseptics to the area to be marked". The Xeno woman said while using a piece of dark cloth with a weird bright pink substance to wipe his right arm down.
The cold, stinging liquid was applied with clinical efficiency to his right arm, a stark contrast to the brutality that was to follow. Then a weird feeling started with which swipe of her hands around the area where she was rubbing. Each touch of her fingers felt like strong pinches, Elyria herself then took up a curved ritualistic blade, its serrated edge glinting ominously in the dim light.
"Let the marking commence," she declared, her voice carrying the weight of both ceremony and sadistic anticipation.
Elyria approached Marcus' arm, her eyes locking onto his with a chilling intensity. "You will learn your place, filthy vermin," she whispered with venom in her voice, her breath warm against his ear. With deliberate, slow movements, she began to cut into his flesh, carving the chosen pattern with practiced precision. Each stroke of the blade sent jolts of blinding pain through his nervous system, the Captain closed his mouth to not let any scream escape through his dried lips. His mind was a symphony of pain, each serrated edge of the blade could be felt by the Imperial.
Each slow stroke of the blade upon his skin made him contort upon the table, his eyes tightly closed in blinding pain. Then he felt the vile woman's lips close to his ear once again and with a mocking whisper asked:
"Did I mention that one of the components of the concoction was a pain enhancer?"
Another slice through his arm, his entire body shook with pain as if he were having a seizure. His teeth were grinding against each other in an attempt to not let out a scream, however, he let out loud groans at each movement of the knife upon his extremely sensitive skin.
As the pattern took shape, Elyria's expression shifted from calm calculation to fierce intensity, a reflection of her enjoyment in the act. Marcus gritted his teeth even harder, focusing his mind on the forbidden story of "Romeo and Juliet" to endure the agony. The pain was beyond excruciating, but he refused to give her the satisfaction of hearing him scream.
"Hmmmm...You didn't scream even with the pain enhancer, impressive may I say." The Wytch spoke with morbid fascination at his ragged form.
Then she clicked a button on the platform that made the table slowly turn around two bars of metal appeared to hold his head and legs in place. His pain-riddled mind could not comprehend what was happening right now, the Officer was completely lost in a sea of numbing pain, and every nerve of his arm flared in excruciating agony.
"Next is the implantation of the neuro tracker," said Marcus's torturer as she wiped the concoction upon his neck and then proceeded to make a small incision at the back of Marcus's neck with the same serrated knife, her movements quick and efficient. His conscience was fading in and out as the pain riddled his spine as the Drukhari fumbled around his neck vertebrae, Elyria made sure to poke each extremity of bone with the point of the sharp object. Then the procedure was finished as the tiny device was inserted seamlessly, a final touch to the mark of his new identity as property of the Cult of Strife. The incision was closed with precise sutures each time the needled puncture his skin managed to snap him out of unconsciousness, leaving only a faint scar to indicate the tracker's presence.
"Remember this pain," Elyria hissed, her voice dripping with sadistic pleasure. "It is but a fraction of what awaits you if you remain with this attitude".
The Captain's mind was all over the place he could feel his losing grip on his conscience. The room now was filled with the scent of blood. Each of his new scars was a testament to the Drukhari's mastery of pain, his neuro tracker a symbol of their complete control.
The table shifted again to its previous position, the bars holding him now being released allowing him to move his head once again.
He tried to gather the other's reactions to his torture before finally fading out. Janessa was holding back tears of hate and despair as she looked at his weakened state, Marcus wished she had not witnessed them doing this to him. He knew that the Corporal had some skeletons in her closet which only got worse after the gouging of her eye, so seeing him her superior and role model be tortured in such a way will certainly leave her with some mental scars.
Darius was beyond shocked his eyes were wide open in sheer terror at what he was seeing. The Captain did not know the extent of what Elyria had done to his arm or neck, but whatever she may have done was enough to send the Specialist to a very dark place in his mind.
Ellias was expressionless only his eyes showed the light of defiance the Officer knew very well. The Corporal was holding himself back from doing something, certainly furious at seeing what they had done to his superior and friend.
The Fire Warrior's eyes were looking with steely determination right at him. He knew deep down that the Tau had sympathy and a promise of vengeance upon his gaze. The Officer now officially liked this Xeno if his eyes meant anything, although he would never admit that out loud.
Arandur was a complete enigma due to the helmet on his face. But he liked to believe that at least he flinched into seeing what they had done to him.
Now Thalindra was the one who surprised him more, her face was completely impassive as if she were in a trance. The Seer's unblinking eyes remained glued somewhere around the room, her entire demeanor did not betray any emotion aside from a single and lonely tear that fell from her right eye.
Confusion and empathy were the last things he felt before finally succumbing to the numbing pain in his senses.
So as I promised here at the end will be the notes of the chapter, and I wanted first of all thank you all for accompanying this story, hope to further surprise and terrify all of you hahaha XD.
Now I want to address some comments that I could not reply to in PMs as I usually do, but I think of the utmost importance to address them.
First:
Apossiblereader - I took the time to read your comment so I could write a proper response to your review. So I would like to separate this reply into two parts, the first being about what "Shadows of the Dark City" is about and then the second part which is about your particular comment about "When Duty is not Enough".
1º - Shadows of the Dark City is first and foremost a Horror story it is in the tags, so be aware that this story will not have in its main focus fluff. There will be times when this will be true, but for the majority of it our characters will have to stick together to survive the literal hell that is Commorrogah, so a lot of suffering will happen, a lot of things that will unsettle all readers, and most of all this story is about survival and companionship even in the direst of the situations. Having said that yeah the couple is made by the main protagonists that are Thalindra and Marcus and yes they are virgins, and yes they are destined to be together and be the only couple in the story, however, let me warn you beforehand this story will unsettle you, and is made to be uncomfortable so beware of what I'm warning you so you don't get it wrong when it happens, I gave this story a horror tag for a reason.
2º - About When Duty is not Enough I think you mixed up your own interpretations of what the story would be with the actual thing, and I don't blame you since I quit writing it before coming to this specific part. The relationship between Erick and his right arm is complicated and in the present time of the story is on a halt, they were going to talk about that, however, he would refrain from this current relationship since he did not want to mix things up. In the future a sequence of events would happen that would set the truth and only couple off, however, we had still a road to go until that moment, so there were no red hearings or baits. I just didn't write enough to give you guys a clear picture of what it would be, and this was one of the reasons I quit writing the story the way I organized it all was lacking in some aspects which I thought I could do better so I put that story on hold planning to redo everything. But life happened and I abandoned the story. But thx to your comment I finally managed to gather the courage to delete it, I want to give proper work and preparation for it, so it is not over yet to that story but the inferior version will not be up anymore.
Also thx for the suggestion to put the story in AO3 I'm going to do that once we reach ch5, which I find to be a reasonable amount of chapters to start there. Besides that hope that you stick around, and enjoy this story! Just don't jump the gun and make conclusions before I show it. Have a nice one and Godspeed!
Second:
Ferrus - Elyria Vex is not the same as Elyra Narcistyn I created Elyria for this particular story, she has her own lore and background which will be explored in further chapters. About the character you mentioned, I was not aware of it, however, she is not in this story, at least for now. Hope you like my character though XD!
About the height thing I just removed any direct numbers. We don't have an actual definitive answer to their height, some remark them to be the same if not taller than Astartes, and others say they are just some inches short from a Space Marine, so just as with many other things about our favorite space elves their height still is a highly debated subject. But to avoid any possible argument about this I just removed the exact number to just let be tall as fuck XD.
Feel free to ask anything else Ferrus, don't promise to answer everything since I cant spoil my story, but will try my best. Hope to see you around here enjoying this will ride with us XD
Third:
G- I like your cut G XD
EDIT1: Added a reply to Ferrus review;