As always, there are three advance chapters on P-atreon (remove the spaces and dashes):p-atreon/ SkySage24
It was only as she looked at the spectral projection of Magnus that Isha grasped the full extent of what the Emperor had done in creating the Primarchs.
Even when she had examined Horus before, she had not understood his nature fully. For one thing, she had been focused on ensuring he was not tainted by Chaos, and not being so intrusive that it would offend the Emperor. And for another, she had not known what the Emperor's domain actually was. She had suspected, but not known.
But even beyond that, the boy's psychic potential was still dormant. The power he wielded was potent, but passive.
Magnus, however, shone like a bonfire in the Warp, his power and potential clearly awakened, even if he had a long way to go in mastering it.
And now that Isha knew what to look for, she could see the source of that power, the exact nature of what he was, what the Emperor had done.
The Warp was the realm of imagination and possibility. And the deeper you went, the more fluid things became, the harder it was for even the greatest gods and daemons to maintain coherence.
To not simply fall apart as they entered realms where existence was not merely fluid, but uncertain and intangible, even for them.
This was true for her family at her height, and it was true even for the Chaos Gods.
Anyone who dared venture into those deepest realms of the Dreaming did so at their peril.
But nevertheless, there was still power within those realms, if you knew how to touch it, to draw upon it without being dissolved. Those possibilities were the wellsprings from which gods sprang into existence, gestating until they were born and emerged into the higher realms of the Sea of Souls. To reach out and grasp those intangible possibilities and make them real was one of the greatest possible acts of warpcraft.
That was how the Old Ones built gods and armies to fight the Yngir. They had seen potential in her children, the potential to be mighty weapons, and they had made that potential real. To the Old Ones, that bizarre, indistinct realm where even gods feared to tread had simply been clay in their hands, which they had used to sculpt their weapons as needed.
Isha had done it herself. To make Lileath, her beloved daughter, crafted from the hopes of the Aeldari, their dreams of a better future after the War in Heaven. It had been a difficult, risky process, and it had never been worth repeating, but Isha did not regret it. It had given her her cherished daughter, her little Goddess of Hope.
(There were other, lesser, but darker acts which she had used it for, which Isha preferred not to dwell upon.)
And apparently, the Emperor had done the same.
The Primarchs were not merely enhanced mortals, but the living manifestation of the idea, the concept of demigod heroes. Of human ideals and archetypes, of myths and legends.
More than anything, they were the idea of guardians, of protectors who could help the Emperor safeguard the souls of mankind and shepherd them to a better future.
They were seeds of possibility which the Emperor had plucked from the deepest depths of the warp, given shape and form using his Aspects and Aetheric Domain as a medium.
It was not the same as what Isha had thought earlier, in that the Emperor had separated shards of himself to create incarnate daemon princes of his own. He had clearly been inspired by the Chaos Gods, seeing as how the Primarchs were tied to him, but it was also unmistakably similar to how Isha and Kurnous had created Lileath.
(It was painful to be reminded of her daughter, the Goddess of Hope who had turned to despair. The Primarchs would, Isha hoped, not suffer the same fate.)
They were incomplete, of course. The Emperor was not an Old One, and so he could not completely actualize the seeds of the Primarchs into even daemons, much less into gods. Instead, he had hosted them in mortal bodies. The Primarchs were not true gods and would likely never be.
Nevertheless, it was, Isha had to admit, a genuine masterwork of warpcraft. This would have been tremendously impressive even when she and her family had been at the height of their power, never mind the state the Warp was in now.
The Emperor had nothing like the resources of the Old Ones at his disposal, and even if his work was a shadow of theirs, he had still achieved it with far less knowledge and in much more difficult conditions.
There were still many questions. How had the Emperor done it? How had he found a path so deep into the Warp without anyone noticing or stopping him? Where did he discover the knowledge to do it?
Not to mention it all seemed rather hypocritical given the Emperor's stance on godhood…but it was not Isha's place to question him on that.
There was no point to it.
So instead, Isha mustered her most formal court manners, and offered Magnus a polite but distant smile.
"It is nice to meet you, young Magnus," She might have said something about how much the Emperor had missed him, and that his presence was surely a relief to his father if Magnus had appeared only a few weeks earlier, but now…there just didn't seem to be any purpose to it.
"It's nice to meet you too," Magnus bubbled excitedly.
Despite his advanced growth and power, he was clearly still very much a child at heart. "But who are you? You're not human, are you a xeno? Father told me about xenos-"
"Magnus," The Emperor reproached once again, his tone more exasperated. "Son, show some manners."
The boy pouted, petulance radiating from him, but he bowed his head slightly. "Sorry, Lady Isha."
"It is of no trouble, Magnus," she said vaguely, not addressing his questions. The Emperor would either answer those himself or tell her to answer if he wished his son to know.
The Emperor cleared his throat. "Lady Isha is indeed not human; she is of the Aeldari race. Nevertheless, I expect you to treat her with every respect and courtesy," he told Magnus a little pointedly. "And not to pester her with rude questions."
Magnus's pout deepened, but he did not object. "Yes, father."
Isha said nothing. She would ordinarily have been amused by the child's enthusiasm and eagerness, but as she was right now, she could not find it in herself to care.
"That said," The Emperor continued. "If Lady Isha is willing to answer your questions, you may ask."
The boy turned pleading eyes on her, and Isha shrugged, nodding her assent. If the Emperor wanted her to entertain his son for a while, she could hardly refuse.
"So, are you really an Aeldari?" Magnus asked eagerly.
"I am," Isha replied, wondering exactly how much the Emperor wanted her to tell the boy. She doubted he would appreciate her revealing that she was a goddess.
"But you're so strong! I've seen other Aeldari souls in the Warp, and none of them were like you."
"I am very, very old," Isha answered slowly, measuring her words. "The oldest Aeldari who still lives. Even the eldest of all others remaining are far younger than I. I have had time to hone my skills and abilities."
"Can you teach me?" Magnus inquired, his eyes speculative.
"...no, not without your father's permission." Isha said flatly. Frankly, she didn't feel much like teaching him at all, but if the Emperor demanded it of her…
Fortunately, the Emperor shook his head, frowning slightly at his son. "No, Magnus. Lady Isha is far too busy to give you lessons, I'm afraid."
Magnus grumbled. "But I'm so bored, father! The libraries on Prospero are interesting, but it's all so easy."
"I will make time to give you lessons now that we are speaking to each other once again," The Emperor assured him dryly. "But do not pester Lady Isha for such things."
The boy perked up, all his previous annoyance immediately forgotten at his father's words. "Really?" He asked, his eyes wide and shining.
"Really," The Emperor said, a smile playing around the corners of his lips. "Why would I not, my son?"
Magnus cheered. "Can we start now?" He demanded impatiently, his interest in Isha gone as quickly as it had appeared, to her relief.
She was in no mood to deal with this.
The Emperor cast her an apologetic look, before nodding to his son. "Come, Magnus, let us begin."
The shining spirits of father and son, one gold and one bright red moved away from Isha, gliding through the currents of the Warp.
Save for one single golden spark, a piece of the Emperor's consciousness briefly directed at her even as he began speaking to his son.
"My apologies for the intrusion," he said quietly. "I did not think Magnus would be so eager to interrogate you."
Isha offered another polite smile. "It is quite alright."
"Do let me know if he comes to pester you again. He has the attention span of a child, but he will no doubt remember you at some point."
As if she would ever risk the Emperor's wrath by speaking to his sons alone and not letting him know. "Of course."
There was an awkward silence as the Emperor seemed unsure of what to say, before he spoke again. "I…was wondering if you wished to visit Iyanden again? I would not frighten them as I did last time," He added hastily. "I would stay out of sight and mind, I assure you."
Isha eyed him suspiciously for a moment. Iyanden was safe from the Emperor's reprisal thanks to their contract, but that did not mean she trusted him near it.
But she was tempted. It would be nice to see it again, to be around her people, to feel less unbearably alone.
"May I have some time to think it over?" She said finally, unable to decide.
"Certainly. Please let me know when you have come to a decision." The Emperor requested.
Isha inclined her head, and the Emperor returned the nod, before his presence faded away entirely, leaving Isha alone with her thoughts.
She rubbed a hand across her face. This was all just…so tiresome.
What was she even going to do? The Emperor had dashed her hopes of any true alliance quite decisively. Oh, the pact was a positive sign, perhaps, but Isha was so very tired of raising her hopes and having them fail again and again and again.
How many times had she hoped Asuryan would be more reasonable? That her father would be less of a monster?
That the Old Ones would find a line they were unwilling to cross in their pursuit of victory?
Every time, she had been wrong.
Why would this time be any different?
But it was not as if she had anywhere else to go. Without the Emperor shielding her in the Immaterium, she would be vulnerable to the Chaos Gods. The only alternative was to flee into the Webway and pour her entire essence into one of its realms, but the only Webway Gate nearby was Iyanden's.
And Isha could not, would not sacrifice her children just so that she could escape on her own.
Assuming it even worked. The Emperor was beyond formidable, and making it to the Webway gate would mean finding a way to breach their new contract, escaping Terra, making it to Iyanden before he caught up…
No, she was trapped where she was now, the Emperor's slave and prisoner. The contract provided her with a measure of protection, but she did not know how to make any progress beyond it.
The irony was palpable.
Perhaps she should have let Nurgle capture her. At least he would only have kept her caged within his garden. She would have given him none of her knowledge, and he would not be capable of using her as leverage against her children.
Once again, Isha wished she was not so alone. Wished for her husband's unyielding support, for her mother's wisdom, for her daughter's insight, her brother's brilliance…
For them to simply be here, alive and whole.
But they were all gone.
There was only her.
Author's Note: Here's an invite code to my Discord: nfnTT8wA