Legends of the Smoke Jaguars Chapter 56
Aapo was unnerved standing near Takana. The Dark Fury stood with his arms crossed, glaring at the Skinned Man as he prepared for the ritual. Even standing in the open darkness blurred his outline, the places between his folded wings impenetrable to the naked eye. With the large single thruster of his jump pack hidden one could almost mistake him for a mutant. Aapo wondered how true that assessment was, the Dark Fury had a Shadow-path unlike any other, not fading from sight but blinding all around with choking blackness. Something had bred out of true in this one, and where there was one deviation others must surely follow.
"He who stares too long at the sun shall have his eyes blinded," Takana growled.
Aapo hastily altered his gaze, "I offer contrition, I merely ponder your connection to the Shade-Seer."
"Lies upon the lips, a mask of seeming, torn away to reveal bitter truth," Takana snorted.
Aapo felt compelled to defend his master, "But he and the Lord Headsman are the last of the Founders, no others can claim to have laid eyes upon Sedaxus."
"Engar knows well silence is the first virtue of the hunter," Takana retorted, "The deceiver chatters as the howling monkey, as doth thou illchosen."
That shut Aapo up, the hated title forced on him grating his nerves. He turned his attention to the sacrificial chamber, taking in its majestic scope. Deep under the Fortress-Monastery, where no man not sworn to the Smoke Jaguars would ever tread. Lighting was provided by bronzed mirrors, carefully angled by Servilles to reflect the waning sun into the chamber and four waterfalls streamed through the corners, thundering into a moat that circled the altar and streamed away. The walls were carved with scenes of battle, figures in strange armour, quite unlike the Smoke Jaguar's own, giving battle to hideous malformations of Space Marines. The Legion Wars, when the sons of the Sun-Emperor sought to overthrow their father only to be cast down to the underverse.
Xavaar stood upon a short altar in the middle of the moat, fussing over a low stone slab, darkened with blood stains. Behind that altar rose a circular slab of granite, carved with a galactic map. Though the Smoke Jaguars had been confined by raging warp storms for centuries, the history of what lay beyond must be preserved, the good and the bad. The Sun-Emperor's throneworld was denoted by a double-headed eagle, and eighteen other icons ringed the map. The Winged Skull, the Wolf's Head, the Book and Flame, the Open Gauntlet and the Clenched Fist among others. Aapo found his eyes drawn to the Raven in Flight, noblest of all, the mark of Corax himself, would any living Smoke Jaguar ever meet him, it seemed unlikely.
"Attend me," Xavaar ordered.
Aapo crossed a low bridge over the moat and said, "Shade-Seer?"
"This is your first Blood-pledge?" Xavaar asked.
"As a Doan I have yet to partake of the ritual," Aapo confessed.
Xavaar's mask nodded, "The first is always the hardest... tell me have you ever killed?"
"I have slain many Orruk, in the Copan system and beyond," Aapo affirmed.
"Killing Xenos is righteous work, but have you killed a man? Have you ever seen the light go out of his eyes and known all he could ever have been is extinguished?"
"I have not..." Aapo confessed.
"Better to get it out of the way before we set off," Xavaar sighed, "Prepare for... hold on... what the Frak is he doing here?!"
Aapo spun about and saw the Shade-Seer had spied a fourth Marine entering the sacrificial chamber. He strode jauntily, a smirk upon his face. Aapo had never seen this one before but he walked confidently, as if expected among old friends. His Mark IV armour was dappled grey but bore red flashes along the pauldrons, though fading, and his black hair was split by a vicious scar that ran from eyesocket to the nape of his neck. But the truly strange thing about him was the mechanical creature hanging over his shoulder. Long piston-arms and short legs, tipped with claws. Its bulk bore patches of fur to affect a simian appearance but it had bat-like wings extending behind it and a spiked tail. The head was an angular ingot of plasteel, with beady eyes, boasting a metallic jaw filled with sharp teeth and trailing ears swept back as if caught by the wind.
"No!" Xavaar snapped as he marched over the bridge to confront this intruder, "I don't know how you heard about this mission, but you are not coming!"
"Words on the wind carry far, justice calls and all true hearts must heed its cry," the intruder replied with a broad smile.
"It can take you to Marajo then!" Xavaar snapped as he stopped before the strange figure, "Go fight Orks with Palanque, you are not coming with me!"
"Vengeance is not to be denied. the Dark One sees, the Dark One knows."
Aapo had wandered over the bridge but stopped short of the pair. He muttered out the side of his mouth, "Who is this?"
Takana switched languages, "Meet Hanphu, the Magpyr."
"The... the Magpyr... he's the Magpyr?!"
"Unfortunately yes," Takana sighed.
Hanphu glanced over, "Oh, we're all talking in Gothic, I can do that! We're happy to meet new friends, aren't we K'oy?"
The simian creature on his shoulder spat a gobbet of oil and flashed sharp teeth in a manner most decidedly unfriendly. Aapo could only stare, taking in the strange sight. The Magpyr was a legend, but not a good one. A rumour among the Doans, treated as a warning tale for wild young fools. The tale went he'd been a rising name in the Chapter once, pacted to study under the Metal-men and become a Techwright. An Orruk cleaver put paid to that, splitting his skull and when his brains had been stitched back together something had gone hideously wrong. His mannerisms and behaviour were twisted and repulsive. He'd been rejected from the Techwrights, and the Prowls, left to forage for whatever scraps of glory he could find. Aapo had assumed Hanphu was a myth, or long dead, he'd never thought the Magpyr would actually turn up.
Xavaar leaned in close to growl, "Take your wretched familiar and go jump into an Arachnasaur's nest! Three times you've nearly got me killed, that's three times too many!"
"I'm touched you remember me," Hanphu smiled warmly.
"I did my best to forget you existed!"
"See, we're already reminiscing like old friends!" Hanphu chuckled.
Xavaar stared intently, "Most people meeting my eyes would be unconscious, they must have cut out more of your brain than I realised!"
"Are we doing a staring contest... but you hold all the advantage without eyelids!"
Aapo couldn't believe his eyes. Xavaar was shouting right into his face, but Hanphu seemed to treat it as friendly banter. He kept smiling, as if all was right in the world. Aapo had never seen a Smoke Jaguar smile so much, it was off-putting and troubling in ways he couldn't fathom. Something was very wrong with this one, but the simian on his shoulder hissed and clawed his shoulder constantly. Aapo wondered if that Orruk cleaver had cut out the parts of Hanphu's brain that dealt with sullenness and spite, only to be stuffed into this cyber-construct.
Xavaar changed tacks, "This mission is dangerous, you may die."
"I would gladly die alongside such bosom comrades," Hanphu replied.
"Your stealth has never been sharp; you may give away your location and die."
"The sun sets on all men," Hanphu agreed jovially.
"If you come then I will end up throttling you, and you will die!"
"I accept the risk with an open heart," Hanphu declared as the simian hissed invective.
Takana chimed in, "The Magpyr can come."
"What?!" Xavaar spat as his head whipped about.
"He comes, or I don't go," the Dark Fury stated firmly.
Xavaar glared, "You only want to bring him along to make my life miserable!"
"The Shade-Seer sees all and knows all," Takana quipped sarcastically.
"Have it your way," Xavaar spat, "But keep that wretched thing away from me, and I'm not talking about the cyber-monkey!"
Xavaar returned to the altar muttering under his breath, "Where's a Transonic mine when you need one? I told Sedaxus hybrid blood would produce freaks, but did he listen to me, no he did not." Hanphu followed with a merry clip, passing Aapo with a nod. The young Doan lifted a hand to touch the simian creature, but it lashed out at him with a vicious swipe and hissing threats.
Aapo snatched his hand back as Hanphu quipped, "Don't mind K'oy, he is friendlier than he looks."
"An Orruk's friendlier than him," Aapo muttered.
"Stop moaning illchosen, the rite begins," Takana snorted as they took up places around the altar.
Xavaar set his staff down and took up a ritual knife as a procession of Servilles entered the chamber. The first four banged leather drums in a fast rhythm, as six behind bore a litter upon their shoulders. Laying upon that bier was a man, trussed in coarse vines and with his mouth stuffed by rags. Salt tears ran down his face and he struggled to break free, but the bindings were constrictor-vines, the more he fought the tighter they dug. Already his hands and feet were white but still he wiggled to get free.
The procession laid the sacrifice on the slab and Xavaar declared, "Since the Dawning it has been our way to bind ourselves with unbreakable bonds. We accept our duty as Sedaxus' inheritors, justice and vengeance, pursued without rest or mercy. No matter the ferocity of the foe, no matter where they hide, we shall find them and punish them for their sins. This is our Oath of Moment."
Xavaar flipped the knife over and held it to Aapo who gulped, "Shade-Seer?"
"Make the first strike and leave the rank of Doan behind," Xavaar affirmed.
"I've never..."
"Feel no pity for this scum," Xavaar growled, "He murdered his neighbours in the night and forced himself on the victim's daughter in their own home."
Takana growled, "This one deserves no mercy. He took a life; a life is owed. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. Thus it is written, thus shall it be."
Aapo had never killed a human and his hearts rebelled at the thought. Something was wrong with the idea of ending a fellow man, even one as vile as this one. Still the burden of his blood would not be denied, the spirit of Corax demanding vengeance. It was like watching someone else's hand reach out to take the knife, and then in one swift swoop he slashed a fatal wound into the man's ribs. A muffled scream erupted as blood poured down the sacrificial slab draining through channels to stain the flowing moat red. Ignoring the man's pleading Takana took the knife and made another deep cut, as did Hanphu and then Xavaar. The man's blood gushed in torrents as the moat became crimson and his heart slowed as he bled out. In moments he was drained empty and the criminal lay still, life force extinguished. None could say whose cut was fatal, they all were, the weight of the murder shared equally.
The ritual wasn't done and the drumbeat increased in tempo as the next phase began. Xavaar rammed the knife into the sternum and ripped upwards. Ribs parted, then Ceramite digits drove deep and ripped the ribcage open. The criminal's heart was exposed and with a gentle hand Xavaar extracted it, lifting it to his jaw to consume the flesh. Aapo then accepted the glistening heap of meat and set his mouth to it. Raw sinew and hard muscle resisted his bite but Transhuman strength in his jaw let him tear off a chunk. It was disgusting, rank and hot, with salty-iron blood gushing down his throat. His stomach rebelled at the noxious feast, trying to bring the hateful meat back up but he clamped his jaw tight and focused his will on not throwing up. His Neuroglottis told him much of the nature of the meat and he was glad it wasn't brain tissue; he had no wish to absorb the criminal's memories via the Omophagea. Still he felt stronger for consuming the heart-meat, a sense of stolen vitality, or perhaps his own superiority over the man being made plain. It felt good, to take a life and affirm his own strength in the process.
The dripping heart was passed around the foursome till it was utterly consumed but between bites Takana whispered, "You enjoyed that, I see it in your eyes." Aapo felt a rush of shame at being discovered, his secret pleasure proving anything but discrete. He bit down on his lip to punish himself as guilt pulsed hot across the base of his skull. A troubling thought arose, had it been the shade of Corax that urged him to take enjoyment from ending a life, or had it been the one they did not name. The Dark One, that devilish shade whispered to haunt their bloodline, the twisted reflection of Sedaxus' noble countenance.
Xavaar did not share Aapo's guilt as he lifted his hands high to proclaim, "Now we are one, trothed in blood and murder!"