As always, the next two chapters are up on my P-a-t-r-e-o-n, here: h*t*t*p*s :/ w*w*w . p*a*t*r*e*o*n user - ? - u = 52718582 (remove the spaces and stars)
Horus Lupercal was a genius.
Every tutor assigned to him was astounded at his swift and instinctive grasp of every subject laid before him. His insight surpassed those decades older and more experienced than he. Books that would have taken ordinary men and women years to understand were learned in mere hours.
The young Primarch thrived at any subject he put his mind to, but anything that bored him was ignored. Strategy and tactics, martial arts and weaponry, the history and politics of the Imperium…these were all subjects he devoured with a rapacious hunger and demanded more, demanding a long succession of tutors as each of them seemed to run out of things to teach him sooner or later.
Everyone agreed, the boy had inherited his father's genius.
He would have been the perfect student, if only he paid attention to all his lessons.
The boy thrived at subjects he was fascinated by, but those which failed to attract his attention were ignored. When it came to mathematics, engineering, administration or the deeper history and politics unrelated to the Imperium and the Emperor, Horus was uninterested. Instead of applying his mind to these lessons, he seemed to take a perverse delight in tormenting his teachers instead, seeing how much he could test their patience. Even those of his tutors in the subjects he enjoyed were not immune to his 'tests'.
More than one of his teachers had been driven to breakdowns by his lack of respect and 'tests'. Only his mentors in the arts of warfare, several of the most distinguished and elite members of the Legio Custodes, could claim that he had never made them burst into tears.
The boy's mischief was an endless source of both amusement and frustration for the Imperial Palace.
And the Emperor seemed disinclined to reign him in at all.
"He's just a boy," The Lord of Terra had been heard to remark. "Been here only a year. Let him enjoy himself, he'll learn in due time."
To disagree with the Emperor was treason, of course, but that did not change the fact that the young Horus was difficult to deal with.
For now, however, Horus was free of his lessons and eager to get his first taste of combat on Terra.
And for this, the Emperor had chosen the city of Talos.
Horus would not be leading the assault, of course.
Not yet.
But he was most certainly in the thick of it.
The air was filled with the sounds of both bolterfire and heavy rain, the battle raging at the same time as the storm, punctuated by claps of thunder. The ground was thick with mud and blood, and people were dying everywhere.
Horus Lupercal loved it.
His golden armour, a smaller, less ornate version of his father's, was splattered with dirt and blood, but he did not care. His helmet had been torn off at some point, leaving his head and hair exposed to the elements and the enemy's weapons, but he did not care.
Instead, like a cannonball, he hurtled through the enemy's lines, scattering them and sending them screaming. His mace was as fast as the thunderbolts above and as strong as a meteor crashing to earth, reducing entire lines of men to a bloody pulp at once, tearing through their gleaming silver armour as if it was nothing.
The enemy's men ran from him screaming, and Horus rejoiced in the sounds of their retreat.
This was what he was born for.
It had been too long since he had fought something. Since he had felt his blood pump and the thrill of the fight.
Spars with his father's guards were all…fine, Horus enjoyed working his way through the ranks steadily, determined to beat Valdor himself one day soon. But it wasn't the same as a real street brawl like the ones he used to have on Cthonia with other gang-lords who thought they were the toughest bastards in town.
Part of him did miss Cthonia, but Terra was better. He had his father, he was a prince of the Imperium, and his gang was happy and safe.
But he had still itched to knock some cocky bastard's teeth out.
And now he had it.
Unable to contain himself, Horus threw his head back and laughed as a flash of lightning illuminated him and a clap of thunder echoed above.
"FORWARD!" He shouted at the Imperial regiments behind him, his voice clear and resonant despite the sound of the storm. "CRUSH THEM ALL!"
The army roared back, a fire ignited in their hearts by the Primarch's words.
The defenders of Talos would soon fall.
"People of Talos, you are free!"
The words rolled through the city like thunder, shocking the populace from the daily tedium as everyone from the highest executive to the lowest beggar reeled at the sudden words.
"This city has been under the command of false tyrants such as the Pan-Pacific Empire and the Ethnarchy for too long! Now you are under my protection, and on my name as the Emperor of Mankind, I promise you a better life!"
A stir erupted across the city, as people were torn between shock, awe and fear. The army had been sent out to fight the encroaching Imperial forces, and everyone had known there was a chance they would lose, but the confirmation still brought a wave of terror.
"I have slain the slavers that the Ethnarchy sent to oppress you, and now, I will help make Talos better."
The impending panic was stopped in its tracks, the golden voice soothing their fears and enforcing calm upon them. The idea that their conqueror would help improve their lives was…absurd. Ridiculous. Unbelievable.
Yet, there was no disbelief. Somehow, every single person in the city knew, down to their very bones, that the voice spoke only the truth.
"I have brought along one of my most valued creations, a machine that will cleanse the air and ground of Talos, restoring it to the beauty of the Golden Age! And my servants, the Order Hospitaller, will begin distributing food and medicine to all those who need them shortly."
Cheers erupted across the city, panic replaced by ecstatic welcome as the Emperor finished his speech.
"Rejoice, for you are now part of my Imperium!"
The Emperor had organized a grand victory parade through Talos. At the head of the parade was a floating platform upon which Horus, the Emperor and Captain-General Valdor stood. And following them was a gleaming honour guard of a Custodian Shield-Host, and behind them, a thousand Imperial soldiers clad in mismatched but colourful armour and weaponry, the sounds of their footsteps shaking the ground as people stood on the streets and cheered for their conquering heroes.
"FOR THE EMPEROR! FOR THE IMPERIUM. FOR THE EMPEROR-"
Or rather, just for his father.
Would he ever be able to just…make an entire city of people love him with a short speech? Horus knew he was good at talking to people, at getting them to follow him, but his father was just on another level.
He couldn't have imagined people he had just conquered greeting him so happy before today, and yet, here he was.
The speech hadn't even been meant for him, and yet, as he had stood next to his father, Horus had felt a fierce pride swelling in him, a fervour to fight for the Imperium, to make his father proud, his body trembling with anticipation at the idea.
But the battle was over for now. There would be more opportunities in the future, but for now, Horus could just sit back and enjoy the parade.
Talos wasn't much like the bright, clean Imperial capital. There was a certain resemblance to Cthonia, in the grey skies and concrete buildings, but there was much as glass and steel as there was stone. The roads were smoother and more well-organized instead of being dilapidated, and the factories releasing smoke into the air were relegated to the city's edges instead of dominating the skyline.
It all made for a distinctly odd sight, the grey, almost lifeless city contrasted with the colourful, eclectic Imperial parade.
But there were differences too. The most prominent being that the air was noticeably becoming clearer with each passing second, the grey skies turning blue, and the stench and pollution fading away.
It was the machine his father and his Eldar colleague had built together, Horus understood. Said colleague was back on the ship, buried deep in her labs ever since they had left the last city behind, and Horus hadn't been able to get a chance to speak to her again. No one had, except father.
(And damn, Horus could still barely believe that all those old stories about aliens were true. He'd always thought they were just stupid stories for children and old men, but one was working for his father).
Though his father was doing more for the city than just the machine and the parade. The Order Hospitaller, the medical and relief corps of the Imperium, had begun distributing food and medicine to the people of the city, to ease their life and their integration into the Imperium. The majority of the Order was still back at the last city that his father had conquered without him, which was even more polluted and dilapidated than this one, but a sizeable force had been dispatched here as well.
Horus knew that making people happy was a good way of getting them on your side. Every gang-lord of Cthonia knew that if no one liked you, then you'd be getting stabbed in the back sooner or later.
But the way his father had so much food and medicine just…given away to everyone was difficult to accept. On Cthonia, the things his father threw away as if they were nothing would have been precious beyond measure, to be stocked and hoarded. Horus could have wrangled a lot of things out of other gang-lords for just a few of the things the Order Hospitaller was giving to the people of the city for free.
Of course, his father had far more of these things than even the wealthiest lord of Cthonia. His farms and labs regularly churned out ten times as many crops, fruits and medicine as what was being distributed here. And his father had used the most precious of these things as bribes to obtain the loyalty of enemies before.
But, still. Every gang-lord knew that you had to mix the carrot and the stick, you couldn't just give people everything for nothing.
"A penny for your thoughts, my son?"
Horus looked up at his father, frowning in confusion. "Huh? What does that mean?"
The Emperor's warm brown eyes crinkled into a smile. "An old expression. A very old expression. But very simply, I am asking what you seem to be in such deep thoughts about."
"Oh," Horus muttered. "I was just…thinking about the Order Hospitaller."
"What exactly about them?" The Emperor asked, arching one regal eyebrow.
"Just…" Horus hesitated. "Giving away so much stuff to the people for free. I know you have lots more and that it makes the people happy, but-"
"-it is not the way you know things to be," The Emperor finished with a nod. "Things were not like this on Terra either, my son. Not until recently. I have only had the resources to distribute medicine and food so freely over the last decade or so, and the Order Hospitaller is the youngest of the Imperium's institutions. But they are a vital part of it nevertheless."
"But wouldn't it be better to only give them those things for a price or on a condition?" Horus asked. "What if they just take it and turn on you?"
The Emperor rubbed his chin absently. "A valid question. However, something you must remember, Horus, is that as a ruler is always best to be both loved and feared. These people…they already know to fear me. They have heard tales of the Imperium, and I have destroyed their leadership in a day. But fear alone is not enough. It never has been, because pure fear eventually turns to hate. They must also love me, and above all, they must not hate me. They could take what I offer them and rebel afterwards, it is true. But why would they? I have given them ample evidence of both my ability to crush their dissent and my generosity towards my subjects. And that combination of love and fear will be far more effective than only the latter could ever be."
What his father made sense, and yet, it remained strange and foreign to him all the same.
But maybe it didn't have to.
"Can I go with one of the Hospitaller squads on their relief mission, father?" Horus ventured. "I want to see what they do."
The Emperor seemed taken aback for a moment before smiling. "Of course, son. I'll see to it immediately."
"Thanks!" Horus beamed.
Maybe he could get what his father meant better, after doing this.
And maybe Lady Isha would agree to speak to him and answer more of his questions after this, as well.
Author's Note: The Order Hospitaller in this verse is established by the Emperor to facilitate the organization and distribution of the resources he receives from Isha. They're obviously a fairly different organization from canon, being intended primarily as a relief corps and not being composed purely of women, but they serve more or less the same basic purpose.