The clouds of two nuclear detonations rose high in the sky of the world of Actium, radioactive ash falling all around the UNSC and Aeldari present on the planet, shards of glass cracking underfoot courtesy of the shockwaves breaking all of the windows of buildings across the pond from what one was to assume were still-incandescent craters.
The resting places of over twelve thousand human souls, plus however many tens to hundreds of thousands of Covenant forces that'd been landed in the area to assault the city's wary defenders. Though other divisions, battle-damaged and scarred, took positions in the city to help provide evacuation and Decontamination, Faen stared at the two rising mushrooms.
She sighed deeply, rubbing her eyes, then walked back to the Oryx IFVs as they rolled on and away with any surviving civilians. She boarded one with the others, too, waiting for the door to close before removing the oxygen mask she was wearing and setting it aside. She told the Sergeant, "We may have saved the planet, but we irrevocably damaged it, too."
"A hundred total megatons of blast force will do that, yeah," Michael nodded, "Just hope it was worth the lives we gave for it. That tech piece, that Soulstone of yours, is it now in the hands of your Spiritseers, right…?" to which he got a simple nod. He told her, "Let us know what they say when they wake the dead."
"I will," She replied, her voice low. The trip back to the Forward Operating Base and the Landing Sites was silent. A moment of solemnity not even Michael dared disturb with any of his jokes. In fact, quite the opposite seemed to be true. Any time someone tried to speak, Mike told them off, simply shaking his head.
She looked at Caentys, who was sat beside her, and heard her murmuring a prayer in ancient Aeldari for the souls of Colonel Mentieth and his men. She joined in on the prayer, their eyes gleaming a deep blue. The UNSC's men and women, appreciative of the Eldar's gesture, let them continue. Mike and Weiss exchanged glances, while Hitchcock seemed to be praying, too, to a cross.
The vehicles stopped at the LZs, the troops disgorging the minute the prayer was done. There, they saw the wounded and the civilians being taken to transport craft to get them off-world while cleaning of radiation and other remains was started. There were still mass casualties among the population, nearly a fifth of the planet's living population having been murdered in the initial assault.
Even so, as a short nuclear winter began to descend upon this section of the planet, there was a glimmer of hope among the population. Faen could make out whispers about 'rumors of friendly aliens' and the confirmation of said rumors. Same as back on Miridem, children looked upon the Aeldari around, both those in what could be considered the medical field and those on the Warriors' Paths, with awe.
One human began playing an instrument in the distance, an upbeat if wary tune that signified hope of a new day. Mike walked over beside the woman and smiled a little, crossing his arms. He watched a few girls and boys step up to Caentys's Banshee cadre, handing them flowers they'd plucked or found, much to Caen's surprise.
The Banshee Exarch turned her head toward Faen, who offered a small smile and nodded. She sighed, gently knelt in front of the little girl who handed her a flower and pat her on the head, taking her helmet off to reveal herself. Michael said at that, "You are one hell of a PR team, honestly… The anti-alien sentiments are spread far and wide since the Covenant came swinging…"
"As if we didn't know," Faen replied jokingly, looking at him. She told him, "You welcomed us with rifles aimed, so…" and she shrugged, still retaining that small smile. Michael rolled his eyes at that quip, with Faen stating, "I will go see to our troops and the civilians. Take care, Sergeant," before leaving. She sighed and walked over to Caentys and, to nobody's surprise, Taevel. The Exarch of the Dire Avengers nodded to Faen, smiling as he greeted her.
She asked, "All well here, Taevel?"
"The little humans are a surprising handful, but in a good way," He chuckled, "They're friendly. Their parents seem to have relaxed since they saw us interacting with them. It reminds me a little of Miridem… And to think it's been months since then," before he shifted his rifle onto his back. Faen nodded, staring at the kids as they were being cared for.
A few non-combatant Aeldari, those on the Path of the Healer, tended to the youth with smiles and snacks, plus medical supplies provided both by their own manufactories and those of the Humans. Taevel spoke, "My sister asked to come with us from the Craftworld, so there she is," and he tilted his head toward a black-haired, much younger Eldar girl.
She was beautiful and looked about the age of a human teenager. Clad in a white gown with various symbols denoting Isha's tale of care as she nurtured the Aeldari people to life and health and glimmering emerald eyes, the young woman tended to a boy with a head wound as he tried to stifle tears.
Faen approached, then spoke, "Sylimh, I presume," as she stopped beside her. The healer Eldar looked up and smiled, then nodded. She stood up, bowed to the Farseer and caused Faen to say, "Please, do not. Those who tread the path of the Healer deserve a respect much greater than a Farseer ever will. Is this young man well?"
"His… Family… Did not escape the Covenant, Farseer," The girl replied, her voice sweet, filled with dulcet tones. Faen blinked, then looked down at the boy and sighed, simply giving him a pat on the head. She nodded at Sylimh, to which the medical aide said, "I should probably continue to provide assistance to him and the other survivors, milady. If you don't mind…"
"Of course," Faen sighed, "Carry on…" only to give the young boy a calm smile, then walk off back toward the Webway beacon being set up for the return to the fleet. When it was done and the UNSC's troops were rotated out back aboard the various ships in orbit, Faen returned on board the flagship of their own fleet.
Arriving in her room, the woman was finally able to relax. Though it was the room of a warship, her new home away from the Craftworld was more suited to act as such. It was a spacious room with a view to the outside, where debris from Covenant ships and, regrettably, UNSC naval vessels hanged. A few of the UNSC's warships that were still active bore the marks of Covenant energy weapons, flame gouts rippling from gashes in the upper hulls. Some limped on damaged engines.
Others yet had been damaged to the point of missing turrets, or their missile tubes having been welded shut. She sighed deeply, rubbing her eyes, then mumbled something about how human ships were capable of surviving such damage undaunted. The corpses of many lay around them, reminding her that those which did survive were the lucky ones.
She sighed deeply, rubbing her eyes, then mumbled, "Not a lot of days spent on this battle, unlike the last one… And yet here we witnessed more of mankind's willingness to survive," before she gazed up at the strange ceiling of her room. She touched the wall and ran a psychic short-wave through the material, mumbling, "... What secret do you hide, Soulstone of the Ancients…?"
She sighed, then paused as she heard a familiar meow. The long-haired form of her familiar Gyrinx approached, fully healed and, from what little she was feeling, very happy. She smiled and stretched her hand out toward it, to which it gently stepped forward and leaned into the headpats with a purr. Faen then said, "Good to see you, my little Andúnë. I'm sorry I was gone again," with a cooing voice.
The feline purred, climbing on top of Faen and causing her to chuckle as she pat her. She spoke, "We might have found an explanation for your presence here, or the start of it. I wish I could see into your mind to know right now," then she hummed and cooed further, "But you are just a baby, are you not?" only to giggle as Andúnë shoved her catty snout into her face.
"I'll be damned," The voice of a man she knew all too well echoed. Faen staggered, looking at the door to see Michael, clad in nothing but his fatigues and boots, staring at the girl with what could only be described as an actual smile of joy. She felt no hidden agenda, no desire for teasing, hell, not even an ounce of mockery behind that smile. He spoke, "I'm sorry for interrupting."
With a healthy red tinge to her cheeks, Faen replied, "S-Sergeant?! How did you get aboard?!"
"Turns out if I say I'm friends with you, I get leeway from the staff. Admiral Benelim let me know you're here, too," He replied kindly, only to pause as the massive, fluffy alien cat pounced on him, though, much to the surprise of both bipedal beings with brain functions beyond those of a one-year-old cat, not to scratch his eyes out.
The cat pawed at his hands with her own massive paws. He chuckled, knelt in front of the psychic feline, then started giving her ear scratches, causing her to pur, a blissful psychic resonance that soothed both the UNSC Marine and, much to her own surprise, the Farseer. She stood up from her cot, approaching the cat and the Marine and joining in on the petting.
She spoke, "... It has been months since I recovered her on Miridem. She never allowed anyone else from my kin to touch her," and turned her head toward Mike, confused. She furrowed her brows and asked, "Did you have a cat on Harvest that looked like this? Gyrinx are hard pets to handle for anyone but an Eldar…"
"Nope," He chuckled, "Nothing this fluffy. We did have a cat at the orphanage I was part of, though. A Calico, fattest cat I'd ever seen," and the mental image flashed just enough in his brain for Faen, who had promised never to read his mind again, to catch it. She chuckled at the sight, covering her mouth, to which Mike raised a brow, grinning and stating, "And here I thought you stopped reading my mind."
"We're far too close for me not to pick up a stray thought," She chuckled as she pat Andúnë still. Then, she sighed and spoke, "I am sorry about Colonel Mentieth… He and his men seemed like fine warriors. Finer people still," while the Gyrinx finally sat down and let herself be pampered by both sides. She stated, "And may their souls be embraced by whatsoever they believed in."
He stared at her for a moment, smiling a little more fondly. She raised a brow, to which he told her, "You're a lot more… Open. Considering the kinda first meeting we had was us literally throwing blame around like idiots, it's… Nice to see you like this. Honestly, kinda makes me want to drop the teasing to a degree…"
She hummed, then inhaled and breathed a sigh, "I dare you to spend months defending a different species than your own and come back the same," only to pause and chuckle as their current object of affection flipped onto her back for belly rubs. Mike snorted and shook his head, to which Faenbrynn asked, "Do all cats do this?"
"Yeah, kind of," He replied, scratching the cat under her chin and causing her to further emanate soothing psychic noises. It was incredible just how similar an alien cat belonging to Aeldari people would be doing the same thing standard cats did, but at much higher frequencies. He asked, "Hey, did your folk ever figure out where she came from?"
"No," Faen replied, "Sadly, she's still a juvenile. Their direct psychic link develops slowly, but a nascent form of it exists right now between me and her. I can also sense traces of her former master and bondmate," and she scratched the cat's tummy, causing her to pur even more loudly, opening her mouth.
"Huh," He hummed, then paused, "... Wait a mike, they can talk?"
"Psychically, yes?" She nodded, looking at him, "Why, can your felines not?" only to get a slow shake of the head and a concerned pair of wide eyes from Michael. She blinked, then said, "Oh. Well, this should be a learning experience for you, considering she likes you enough to basically beg psychically for you to stay."
"Wait, what-" Mike blanked, only to hear the door behind them open again. Both sentients and the cat looked over at the Aeldari guard that had come to call for the Farseer. She cast an expectant glance at him, to which he let out a deep, annoyed sigh and said, "Fine, I'll cat-sit until your important business meet's done. After that, I gotta get back to the Newton."
"My thanks," she nodded as she stood up. She transmitted something psychically to Andúnë, which got the cat to whine a little, but approve as she started pawing at Mike again. The door shut behind the two and the Farseer spoke, "He was allowed to visit me, apparently. Remind me to speak with Benelim on matters such as this…"
"Of course, Farseer," The Avenger replied as he led the way, though he sounded a bit smug. He could probably tell Faenbrynn was not so against Michael's presence anymore on the ship. Arriving at what could pass for the Aeldari vessel's communications center, the woman was greeted by the sight of Allara and Talmon.
The former smiled, while the latter retained a standard impassivity so normal, it was soothing. The young Farseer then bowed, stating, "High Councilors of the Nine," and straightening up. She then asked, "I suppose you have news in regards to the Spirit Stone we've recovered?" only to pause as she saw the device had been returned through the Webway. Spiritseers tended to it, the ethereal glow of the soul within shining through.
Allara spoke, her voice sounding as if she was next to Faenbrynn, "Indeed. The soul within is ancient, but seemingly cooperative," before she motioned to the machine itself. She added, "She requested that she gets to speak with those that rescued her from a fate most unsafe in the hands of the Covenant."
"... She requested it?" Faen blinked.
Talmon nodded, stating, "It seems as though your decisions lead to ever more questions and answers, Farseer… Be careful of how you speak to this Spirit. She is older than many of us," before he tilted his head to the Stone. The Spiritseer to the right of the machine offered his hand, summoning her to the communion ritual.
She breathed in deeply, looking at the two Councilors. Allara told her, "You have this, Faenbrynn. Bring forth our ancestor's words," to which the Aeldari girl sighed and nodded. She knelt in front of the device containing the Stone, noting the glow of the Forerunner symbols yet again, before she took the Spiritseer's hand.
Within a moment, the world around her became a blur, the air growing a chilling cold around her. The next moment, her eyes glowed again as she gasped for air and felt a cool, crisp breeze through her nostrils. Her eyes shot wide open, revealing a simulacrum of a place long lost, or hidden. Trees with canopies of glowing emerald, washed in the glowing light of a bright pair of suns.
An early morning dew. A grassy knoll where a single figure, clad in an ornate white cloak, sat. She stood up from her own stupor, Faenbrynn did, then took a step. The soft grass tickled her toes. She gazed down and saw herself dressed in a similar robe, though hers bore Ilroh'ynn's markings while the other presence had no distinguishing symbols.
Said figure spoke, her voice soft, but cool and distant, almost ethereally reverberating, "Welcome…" as she turned to face her. Emerald eyes and dark hair. A beautiful face full of freckles and the symbol of an Exodite on her forehead, though that symbol's meaning had long been lost to time. She offered the Farseer a kind smile, then spoke, "Youth begets beauty, I see. Welcome to my little realm of peace."
"This is incredible," Faenbrynn uttered, her words barely a whisper as she stared, "This world is…"
"My own Simulacrum," The ancient Aeldari woman before her spoke as she pulled her white hood off of her head. Walking to Faen, she spoke calmly, "I have been here a great many Millennia, so I wished to make this place more habitable for myself. Swimming in the endless tides of Silence that a Stone of the Infinite spawns becomes bland after a while."
"You influenced your own Spirit Stone to provide you with a realm," Faen voiced, eyes wide as she looked upon the woman before her, feeling the psychic might coming off of the soul now. She added, "You must be a strong Seer," as she watched the woman's smile grow a little bit. The Ancient Eldar before her was strange, truly.
"I have had years to hone this, my girl," She replied to Faen. She then told her, "Years since my untimely death and entombment. I do appreciate the praise, but…" only to pause as she saw the symbols and marks on the girl's cloak and clothes and on her hands. She blinked, murmuring, "Gods… You're…"
"... Asuryani. I am of the Craftworlds," Faenbrynn bowed her head respectfully, confirming her suspicion.
"Then it occurred?" The woman's inquiry was fraught with disheartened fear, with concern. She offered her hand, asking still, "The Empire… Our home…" before watching Faen grow sad. She swallowed emptily, then asked, "May I?" while reaching out to the younger sharp-eared girl with intent to read her mind.
"Certainly…" Faen replied, well aware of the process as she took the woman's hand. The two linked, their minds flaring for a moment as psychic might met youthful exuberance and the Farseer's own powerful energies, the two melding for a moment as the girl's memories were 'copied' to the older woman's mind. Shows of horror, of fighting, of the demonic nature and Empyrean's loss.
"... By the Gods. And yet here we are, alive. How goes life in our Home Galaxy…?" She inquired, well aware of parts thanks to the meld, but still concerned.
"It is hard… We are beset by foes far and wide, seeking to kill us all. Our brothers and sisters die daily," Faenbrynn replied with a hint of sadness behind her voice. It seemed as though the Galaxy itself had it out for those born like her.
"And yet we live. A true testament to our people's will," The woman remarked, seemingly somewhat proud that, despite all that she was just shown and told, they were all still alive somehow. Truth be told, it was a matter to be proud of. Despite their own people's mistakes in the ancient past and despite even more concurrent, modern failures, they still walked among the living. Even with She Who Thirsts breathing down their neck.
"Indeed…" The Farseer offered with a nod, "How long have you been here, Ancient One?"
"Nary a hundred-fifty millennia," She got her answer, which caused her to blank, face morphed into pure shock for a second. The Aeldari ancient asked, "What has happened to your Craftworld that you wound up here?" as she still held on to Faenbrynn's hand. The images playing in the girl's mind soon focused onto what had occurred. The cracking of a Human World named Cadia.
"... A Warp Storm the likes of which we have never seen before. It tore the Galaxy in twain and caught us in the blast as we fled with Biel'tan, a fellow militant craftworld and our protectors… The End Times are upon the Galaxy," Faen explained, her voice low, grim. She wondered what this meant for this place.
"The End Times. Troubling," The Ancient One replied, taking her hand away now, to avoid the painful visions. That the Galaxy had fallen so far into decay that the Human empire that now owned it had turned into a nightmarish hellscape only the Aeldari seemed to know the truth of. Truly, a nightmarish daze, their home.
"Yes," Faen hummed, then paused and started, "Wait, I must ask! We've found signs of Aeldari habitation here! Working Webway routes and…" She thought for a moment, then remembered her beloved Gyrinx and said, "And I have a Gyrinx with me, a young one! We found her when aiding the Humans here!"
"Our Webways still operate? Even after the Great Scouring…?" The woman blinked, stunned, staring at the Farseer. She whispered, "And a Gyrinx. Then that must mean my people…" and a smile crossed her lips as her mind seemed to wander, "That she kept her promise…" before she gazed up at the heavens, the ceiling of her Spirit Stone.
"Great Scouring? And who kept what promise…?" The Farseer inquired, confused.
"I and my kin were of the Aeldari Empire when I got interred here. An expedition through the Webway that went awry, trying to open new routes. We are no Exodites or Asuryani. We are the Heirs of our people's grand Legacy. Or, at the very least, we were," The woman explained, surprising Faen. She figured that might've been the case, yet that the Ancient admitted it so readily…
She sighed deeply, though, adding, "A great nightmare beset our people and this Galaxy, one that blurs further recollection for now. It was due to it that the Ancients were forced to activate their Failsafe… Scour the Galaxy clean of life."
"What!?" Faen balked. She stated, "You speak of the Forerunners! But what Scouring? What Nightmare?!"
"I do not recall, child," The Ancient One replied, mournful. She told Faenbrynn, "It has been too long. All I know is that it was necessary… The Ancient that spoke to us promised that after the Scouring, life would return. Our own included. And taking what I have sensed in you at face value, this Galaxy now thrives with life. Parts of which you are aiding now. The humans present here."
"Not for lack of another Hegemony's trying to kill both our peoples, I suppose… Does this mean that…" Faen felt her heart begin to thump like a drum. Her words caught in her throat, but for that single moment, the Ancient One seemed to know what she was asking. It made her happy to be able to say what came next.
"Our people are alive here, young Farseer. In some corner of this Galaxy," She said to Faenbrynn, which seemed to cause a welling joy in the girl's heart, a moment's pause and a bright sun shining down upon her as her own psychic touch, though much younger, influenced the Soul Stone they were within.
"By the Gods…" Faen whispered, feeling a degree of renewed hope well.
"Indeed," The Ancient Eldar's smile grew yet again. She told her, "I recall not where, but the Webway should have clues. It and your little kitten…" before pausing as the place seemed to quake for a moment. She said, "I am afraid we should cut our discussion short. I see that these 'Soul Stones' as you call them are not very welcoming of two of our kin… We may speak again, should I recall any details of our home here."
"Very well." Faenbrynn bowed her head, then calmly introduced herself, putting her hand on her own chest and stating, "I am Farseer Faenbrynn. If you wish to summon me again, milady, you may summon me by that name," then she hummed and figured she had the right to ask, too, what with the introduction. She inquired, "What is yours?"
After a moment's hesitation, the Ancient One seemed to happily acquiesce to her request. She said, "I am Celaden Nightspear. An honor to meet you, Faenbrynn of Ilroh'ynn," and she bowed. Then, with a wave of her hand, a small whirlwind of psychic energy surrounded Faen. She told the younger one, "Now, go. Let them know."
In a flash, Faenbrynn awoke from the trance, staggering back. She saw the concern on the Aeldari leaders' faces and, much to her shock, on Michael's. He knelt beside her and pointed at his nose. She put a hand up to her own, then saw a trickle of scarlet on her fingers. With a smile, she said, "It matters not…" before gazing up at her leaders…
"I bear great news," She spoke, words teeming with joy.