Chapter Text
Ekaterina sat with Jorulf and his brothers. The sun was as unforgiving as ever here. Yet that was the least of her worries. They had waited for hours, Alvyr having an apparent need to prepare for something. She could only hope it was anything other than what her mind conjured. From battles where all were left in bloody ruins, to cordial talks and cooperation with the Xenos. The thoughts and horrific imaginings ran roughshod through her mind's eye. She could clearly imagine the blood burbling from Jorulf’s throat as the beginning of an elegant trail curving and ending at the tip of a piece of art in the shape of a blade. She could also imagine Jorulf’s same face soured in grim acceptance as he watched the Xenos enter their camp offering no opposition.
The others could feel and see her distress yet they had remained silent after her first refusal to explain. They couldn’t have known, they were warriors of the Emperor, and of Russ. They would never even think to suffer the presence of a Xeno… yet so was Alvyr, and he had spoken to them as if they were friends, just another part of their force. The sense of betrayal was palpable. What could have prompted this? What kind of power was held over the Rune Priest's head to force this, of all things?
She suddenly felt it again. The itching. Closing her eyes she tried to force the feeling away alongside her growing panic. Yet it grew more and more just as the night before. They were here somewhere. Pulling her bolter closer she prayed, “Oh thee on thine golden throne divine. Let thy golden hews fall onto your servants and grant them protection and strength. For darkness searches for them in the depths of the soul and heart.” The prayer brought no peace as her eyes burned and itched yet hotter. Now more pinpricks of itching grew, fainter than the first but still there.
”little sister? What is wrong?” The gentle hand of Jorulf startled her out of her growing fear. Opening her eyes, she saw the worried frown of the wolf, yet he was blurry, almost smudged around the edges of her vision as the itching grew yet further. As if worms were hatching from the soft flesh of her eyes. Was this curse taking her sight?
”vh… vhat do you mean Volf?” She tried to keep her voice steady and emotionless.
”you are crying.”
With a start, she drew up her hand, wiping away the dampness that had escaped her eyes. The blurry aspect of her vision disappeared, and she couldn’t hold back the soft sigh of relief despite her role and the continued itching. “I… something is going to happen soon.”
Yet before he could respond, Alvyr stepped forth from his tent. “PACK GATHER!” His great booming voice filled the camp. The entire war band came to his call. The wolves seemed excited and energized at the prospect of continuing their quest, even as the Sisters simply formed near-perfect rows rife with subtle mutterings.
She fell in behind her sisters, looking around the edges of the formation almost feverishly. The greatest itch was from Alvyr’s tent just as before, yet many smaller burns pricked her from all around. They surrounded her, enveloped her in predatory jaws. It was all she could do not to scream.
Her squad's familiar glances and frowns towards her suddenly ended as Alvyr stood taller at the fore of their formation. “Brothers, Sisters. I have grim news. Our hunt is in jeopardy. The way forward thrumming with enemies and beasts of the void. I have seen this in the stones.” He looked at them, all his rough lined features drawn into a concerned expression. “Yet there is hope. Unlikely and unexpected but needed. Another pack has come to join the hunt. They stand with us against the hounds of the enemy. Without them the darkness will succeed, we will die, and the great enemy shall conquer all.”
From behind him his tent stirred as three figures she had seen before step forward, the noonday sun glinting off of their tall faceless helms. The reaction was immediate. Wolves growled and howled, raising power weapons and bolsters. The Sisters reacted much the same, raising bolters as one, every single Sister pointed their weapons at the figures.
”HOLD!” Alvyr barked at the top of his lungs, “I COMMAND THEE HOLD!” Ekaterina felt his power thrum and twist sending a wave of air across them.
”What is this!?” She heard Jorulf yell and saw him step forward, “How can you stand this Alvyr!? They are Xenos and Witches! They are to burn for their tainted nature!”
Many of the wolves howled in agreement even as the Sisters' silent refusal to lower arms showed their own. She could hear the pain in Alvyr’s voice as he spoke again, “I know this. Brothers, I know this with all my heart. And it tears me asunder. Yet without their aid, we will all die. The hunt will end in failure and the great enemy shall win yet another victory! Was Cadia not enough!? Was the great rift not enough!? We can not let the enemy win yet again! Or all will crumble! I HAVE SEEN THIS!” His last declaration boomed with power, his words trembling with emotion
Silence rang for long moments as the words settled. Sisters pointing weapons and wolves raising blades. Suddenly a burning pin flared brighter behind Ekaterina's eyes. She twitched, turning her itching eyes to the back of the formation, something was there she was sure of it. Despite the fact that nothing seemed to be visible. A dull pressure in the back of her skull suddenly sprung up adding to the pain of her eyes and panic in her veins. It was as if something was trying to smother her very mind.
a hauntingly high voice sounded from behind her. It’s delicate lilt hiding unknown power and strength, “Your war leader speaks true. We come here to aid in the defeat of the great enemy. To stand alongside and battle the darkness. We seek no harm, and hold no hatred for you within our hearts.”
Turning she focused onto the Eldars leader. The same tall graceful creature she saw before, holding her same spear of unholy light. She forced herself to focus on anything but that spear tip. It was still dressed in its intricate white bone armor, the lines suggesting feminine curves though she couldn't possibly begin to guess if such monsters held human notions of gender. It was also wearing an elaborate cloak of deepest rich purple, subtle designs were woven into the edges of the cloth. The symbols whispered to her, telling her secrets unknowable to human minds. She had to force her eyes closed praying in her heart trying to fight off the horrific whispers.
The creature's voice seemed to make the others somehow more on guard. She could feel the others tense further as the impossibly alien’s voice. Even as her eyes burned brighter, it was as if someone had lit a match behind them, alongside the rocks smothering her mind. They were trying to keep her from focusing on the pinpricks of pain and itching growing ever closer behind her.
”If you will not listen to reason! THEN I HAVE NO CHOICE!” Alvyrs' pleading tone vanished with his new words as his power continued to roll off of him in waves, “AS YOUR PACK LEADER AND COMMANDER! I ORDER YOU ALL STAND DOWN!” The priests yell yet again filled the space. Shock followed, she could see the faces of her sisters and they glowered in disbelief. Their duty was to burn the Heretic, the Traitor, and the Alien. This was anathema to everything they were trained for and believed. The wolves even more so, as sons of Russ and angels of the Emperor. They fought with wild abandon and hate against the evils of the galaxy just as her sisters did. Yet. Yet Alvyr was ordering them to put that aside. Great venerable Alvyr Rune Priest and ancient warrior of the wolves. His words before rang yet again in her mind as it did in the others. If such an honorable warrior was brought to this. Working with Xenos filth and Witches. Then the threat must be truly great. Fresh memories of the doom and destruction that even now was spreading due to the thirteenth black crusade resurfaced. If this was yet another catastrophe to rival even that.
It still made her sick to even consider.
Yet, she heard the clink of armor as weapons lowered. She couldn't do the same, the burning twitching itch from behind her became unbearable. Ekaterina whipped around raising her bolter yet higher to point into the source of her mind's pain.
Uvinka sighed in barely contained anger. “Ekaterina, by the Emperor sto-” before her words could finish a dozen figures flickered into view. All dressed in the same pale white armor, yet their helms were of a different design. Their basic shapes were the same high conical helms. yet instead of a featureless surface where the brow began, were howling, enraged visages carved into the material. A great plume of delicate yet wild hair flowed out of the back of each helm emphasizing the power displayed. At the group's head mere feet away from her stood their leader. Easily taller than a space Marine and with vibrant blue and purple hair. She stared into Ekaterina's soul through vibrant purple eye slits.
“Shh, Mon’keigh. Let your feeble mind still." The voice was alien, yet it reminded Ekaterina more of a ghost's voice, ethereal, powerful as if terrifying power lay within easy reach.
“No… no i no.” she muttered in a whispered response. Even as she felt the pain and worry dull, it had been her only way of detecting these monsters. She fought to focus on the burning. Flicking her eyes down the creature she felt her eyes hit a bump. Focusing on it she found herself staring at an impossibly smooth gem set into the collar of the creature's chestplate.
A growl sounded sending a shiver through her nerves, “This is your first and last warning animal. Turn your feeble arts away or go screaming into the void and be devoured by the monsters found in their depths.”
She turned her eyes back up to those emotionless slits and locked eyes with the creature within. She saw flashes of death, screams, and flesh being torn from bone. Shivering she turned to look back to the rest of the formation that stood almost perfectly still. Like a snow hare caught in a monster's jaws. They were surrounded by a loose circle of Eldar. Other than the ones behind her there were two other distinct types of armor. Some wore almost plain white and purple armor holding some sort of alien long arms. The others were dressed in that same armor only with large cumbersome packs on their backs. After a moment she realized that each of the ones with the packs had four arms. Two ended in some sort of embedded weapon while the remaining had hands which held yet more weapons.
After a long silence their leader stepped forward, her voice filling the space again, “Calm yourselves, and know the children of Asurian and of Voi’thell stand with you. The black pit of evil shall be burned away in holy fire, the beasts shall be torn apart by claw and fang, and the vile whispers of their scorereors shall end in agonized screams.”
Ekaterina's stomach dropped, to hear such a hauntingly beautiful voice talk of such things sent her mind spinning dangerously fast. Thoughts of these creatures tearing men and women apart flooded her mind. Though the words seemed to comfort her comrades in arms. The familiar rhetoric of destroying the enemy in the same words as a comisar might settled some of the minds of her compatriots. Though that realization sparked yet another image, one of the Eldar looping the entire company around her finger twisting and grinding them into a pliable shape.
She vomited. She didn't even register what had happened as she stared at the monster that had so easily tamed them. She didn't even really need to try. She had Alvyr under her thumb, so now all it needed was a few empty words and they were pacified. It made her mind burn like acid. Her veins felt frozen as if she was dunked into the frozen oceans of her home. Her stomach continued to twist and twist pushing everything out in an attempt to free her from such unthinkable events.
Ekaterina stared at the creature. Not noticing how her sisters stepped away, looks of disappointment and disgust pointed at her. or how Jorulf forced his way through their formation to place a paw-like gauntlet on her shoulder. All she knew was the Eldar’s calculating eyes, that seemed to sear her soul with gilded fire.
//
They set out later that afternoon. The Xenos drifting along the edges of their formation, eyes keenly watching. She felt every time their unnatural orbs locked on her. It felt like slime, Or cold oil sticking to her skin wherever they looked.
She had to stare forward, grinding her teeth just not to try and scratch or pull off the taint. Unfortunately forward meant looking at their leader's back. The tall creature who had tamed them walked alongside Alvyr at the fore of their band. She could hear whispers and ticking fuzzy buzzing of the lies she poured into his ears. Making their leader pliant. Blind.
She closed her eyes keeping her stomach from turning over. No, she couldn't hear the lies. Nore could she feel the eyes of the Eldar. It was just her over active imagination. After so many years of finding it a mixed blessing she finally decided that she hated it. She wished that her tutors had successfully beaten it out of her. At least then she'd have peace now.
Yet they hadn't and so she struggled forward towards a second tomb. She had actually heard that part of the briefing but Uvinka had repeated it all for her in a mocking tone… which was to be expected.
Suddenly the Eldar sorcerer raised a hand, “halt. Soldiers approach… Yours ‘humans’. We shall slink away for a time. Continue on this course.”
The thing and her two attendants disappeared into nothing. And all signs of the ones around them did the same.
She covered her mouth to avoid puking again. She knew they were still there, the itch, the whisper, and the slime of them remained. Just at the edges of her thoughts. Close and Watching. NO, that's just her imagination, she had to breath.
The warband continued at Avlyr’s call despite the horrific display. She could tell the others were on edge, but they had no idea how bad it truly was… or her mind was still playing with her. stop it.
The sound of steps pulled her from her dark thoughts. Looking up she focused on a large group of Vostroyan’s. Their banner was held high and flapped gracefully. Even as the men and women of the unit were Anything but.
Their warm fur coats and hats had been graclesly pulled off and hung haphazardly Wherever each soldier could manage. Many had even gone as far as removing their shirts, even some women had done this.
Ekaterina sympathized with their plight. This planet was just too hot for Emperor’s Sake. Even with her armor's temperature regulation system she often found herself with half a mind to emulate the Firstborn and pull it off.
The unit's leader stepped forward his comisar on his right and what must be his second on his left. The older Man thumped a fist against the metal breastplate he still had strapped on despite the heat, “Hail lord wolves! And sisters! How goes the struggle?!”
Alvyr stepped forward smiling wide enough for his beard to shift, “The hunt goes well. How fares your own?”
“We march, and march, and march. At this point I doubt there is a battle happening at all!” The man seemed to be full of good cheer despite his clear discomfort and from the sounds of it, a long journey.
Alvyr smiled broadly, “I'm certain you shall find your battle soon. For I hear it on the wind and in the soul of Fenris.”
“Hah then we are in luck lord wolf. May your weapon never jam.”
“And may your fangs never grow dull.”
Their company stood still watching as the large group of tired sweaty guardsfolk march past towards the sounds of eternal battle ahead. A few of the most tired or brash whistled or made small tired calls to the sisters. Despite receiving no response every single one of these soldiers were either smacked by their comrades for their stupidity to cat call sisters of battle. Or were barked at by the comisar for much the same reason.
One such soldier locked eyes with her and whistled high and clear. The Woman was clearly tired, her shirt dark with streaks of sweat. But her bright honey eyes roamed over her with a tired curiosity even as her smile grew wide and energized.
Ekaterina shivered. The slime that precluded the Xenos gaze flirted over her. Chilling her to the bone. She looked away from the column Of men and women feeling the grime of their company sticking to her like a tumor.
//
Luckily when they came to a stop that evening, their guests had been kind enough to camp separately. Though Ekaterina had to admit it was a mixed blessing. She no longer could see them and the overall humor of the company grew lighter without them. Even her eternally gruff sisters had allowed themselves to relax. If only a little.
But she couldn't relax. Despite not being able to see them she continued to feel them. Every few moments she'd feel the burn, or slime, or some other awful sensation as their eyes roamed over her. It was usually a brief moment but they were consistent… The master was keeping an eye on their loyal dogs.
Ekaterina tried to shake the delusions away. She wanted to puke again. The whole situation was unimaginable. Yet here they were almost exactly as she had imagined.
“Little sister… what troubles you so fiercely?”
She flicked her eyes up into Jorulf's own. The pit in her gut lessened with his presence. It diminished even more as she noticed Alorn With him. “It… it is nothing brother.” She winced at how her voice wavered. It made her feel even more pathetic.
Jorulf’s frown deepened as he patted Her shoulder gently, “Come join us yet again by the fire. I must hear more tales from you, friend.” His tone was gentle… The same kind of gentle tone that would be used to calm a wounded animal.
Despite herself the tone did help her relax enough to nod, “very vell. It vouldn't do to deny a friend.” She smiled weakly up at him even as he beamed down to her.
Following slowly she Settled beside Jorulf even as Alorn sat across from them, “vheres Bijolf?” She asked.
“He's resting in his tent.” She nodded
“Then… vhat shall ve speak of lord volves?”
Alorn leaned forward, “we had a mutual curiosity. Regarding a noticeable peculiarity.”
Jorulf immediately frowned, “brother.”
Alorn raised his hands in a delicate motion of surrender, “I mean no offense. but I must confess that my curiosity is quite dense.”
Ekaterina allowed herself a gentle laugh at the theatrical way Alorn spoke, “shh Jorulf. If I find his question unreasonable I shan't answer.”
The wolf in question sighed deeply, the unnaturally rough sound sending tremors into their shared seat, “fine brother. Ask your question.”
Alorn nodded, smiling wide showing his fangs, “very well. Our question is-”
“Your question brother.”
“Aye.” Alorns smile turned almost into a smirk. Which compounded Ekaterinas growing confusion. The exchange felt weird in the extreme.
Alorn continued, “Why do you hunt with bolter and sword?”
Her confusion spiked and shifted directions with the question, “Vhat do you mean Alorn?”
“What I mean is why does someone with the kind heart of a healer, march forth as a warrior?”
Ekaterina watched the marine for a long moment before sighing, “I suppose… it's obvious that i'm not fit for this role.”
Both marines sat up trying to discount the words but she ignored them, “I know that… that I am too veak for this duty. I stand a mockery beside the heroes of the Emperor.”
Her dull words and sorrow are brushed away as Jorulf pats her back leaning down locking his eyes with her own, “That is not what we are implying Sister. You have proven at least to me that you are a strong warrior with a brave heart.”
He smiled gently. She watched his eyes trying to take in the comfort he offered freely.
“Kat we are just wondering how such a gentle person found themselves beside us. Battling the darkness just as fiercely as any wolf.”
She took a deep breath trying to tamp down the nearly overwhelming shame that resided in her chest, “very vell. I vas orphaned at a very young age. The convent took me in. I don't remember much of my earliest years. My first memory vas looking up to one of the superiors. She vas a veteran of many battles. Scarred and battered and so proud. She demanded the best of me and total purity. I did my best to live up to that order.”
She took a deep breath then trying to fight the nearly physical weight of her shame, “I fought, I trained, I prayed. I underwent penance more times than I can count. I vas given the most difficult of challenges. And found wanting. Despite my veakness I endured I met every challenge in the Emperor's name. There vas no other path for me. From the moment her mouth opened I vas destined to tread this path… I can't fathom vhy the Emperor decided for me to follow this path… Everyone has told me I'm not suited. From my trainers, to my Sisters, no matter how many challenges I accept. No matter how much I repent. im… I've failed. It just seems like a darkness follows me, and I'm the only one who can't see it.”
Jorulf squeezes her shoulder gently, “You have not failed Kat. You have been forged in frost to defend the Allfathers kingdom. You have faced challenges beyond your kin and succeeded. You are a boon to your pack.”
Ekaterina noded non-commitmentaly looking away from him. The words were nice but they felt empty. No matter how much of a supposed boon she was, her “pack” had no love for her. The phantom memory of her sisters flame sparked gooseflesh and a scowl. She tried to push the fantasmal burn only for it to intensify.
“Can ve move on from this?”
The wolves obliged much to her relief. She listened to their tales and boisterous laughter trying to focus on the various images their stories sparked in her mind. Rather than the cold ever clinging slime of the xenos unknowable glare.
//
The next day had begun slowly. Their camp was packed and equipment checked in short order with the Eldar returning from their camp.
Then they waited as the Witch spoke with Alvyr. What she assumed was going to be a short conversation had begun to draw out into nearly a full hour.
Ekaterina started fidgeting. She hated waiting, it let her mind go wild. As it was in that moment. Her thoughts flirted between a hundred different things. From the eldar attacking them, to what food she wished she could have.
Her Sisters had of course noticed and made their disapproval known. Though Her thoughts quickly drowned them out. Her mind had settled on the banner of the Firstborn company they had met the day before. She imagined the feel of the banners haft in her hand. The banner itself tattered and bloody billowing above her head in perfect clarity.
“You. Mon’keigh.”
Her mind stuttered to a halt as she looked up into the faceless helmet of one of the Eldar. She distantly recognized it as one of the two that followed their leader. But it being this close allowed her to get a true look at it, and she was suddenly struck with vehement disgust and confusion. While tisted monstrosities they all were. The others at least seemed to be recognizable as male or female with the shape of their too perfect armor. But this being defied such logic, her brain began to twist painfully as she tried to categorize the thing before giving up.
“Yes Xenos.” her voice was cold hard, and full of her barely restrained disgust. She noticed Deverina smile slightly. Probably for the first time. At least pointed at her in anything other than disdain.
“The Farseer requests your presence.” It steps to the side motioning to their leader who's back was still turned.
Ekaterina opened her mouth to make some comment when her left eye burst in pain. She gritted her teeth, closing the eye and grabbing it with a free hand.
“What is wrong?” The thing cocked its head to the side in an oddly dramatic show of curiosity.
“It… it's nothing.” She growls out motioning veaugly for the Xenos to lead the way.
It did and she followed trying to suppress the wriggling pain. It felt like worms or ants were digging about in the organ pulling and tearing blood vessels. After a few steps she began to feel something warm and wet soak into her gauntlet.
Now to add to her disgust, And pain she was now dealing with panic. Ekaterina felt her teeth click lightly with how hard she was grinding them together. So focused on her discomfort she didn't realize they had reached the farseer and Rune Priest until she walked into the back of her guide.
It turned at the impact turning its head yet again, “It does not seem like nothing Mon'keigh.” The things tone was impassive. However she felt the insult in the words.
Glowering she forced herself to let go of her eye turning to the Farseer. Her vision was tinged red and she didn't need to look down to know her gauntlet was bloody.
The Farseers faceless helmet took her in for a long moment before turning back to Alvyr, “As i was saying. This path.” The Eldar motioned to some sort of alien device that floated between the two of them. Above it a map of the city was displayed, “This will be the easiest path.”
Alvyr grumbled, “That's cutting through a large-scale battle. It would drag the pack into a hunt that would waste time.”
“Yes, however this period of conflict will be the last until the second vault is reached.”
As the argument continued Ekaterina found herself more and more confused. Enough so she forgot the pain and currently bleeding eye. Why by the throne had she been called by a Xenos to listen in on strategy? She wasn't even a Sister of import yet she was here listening to this.
An annoyed huff sounded suddenly by her right shoulder with a surge of panic she jumped turning to the second figure that always followed the Farseer. This thing at least showed clear signs of masculinity.
“Can you think a little less loudly. It's giving me a headache Mon’keigh.”
She Looked at the creature for a long moment frowning. “If you are so bothered by it then convince your general to send me away. I relish your company as much as you mine.”
Only then did her mind catch up with the implications. This monster could read her thoughts. Apparently innately if just thinking close to her had caused discomfort. More than likely at least the other two could as well.
After a moment of panic she decided some chaff could be helpful maybe. So in her mind she began reciting hymns. The content didn't matter, only the familiarity. Soon enough she felt relatively sure that it would keep her thoughts safe… at least for now.
The meeting dragged on yet longer her hymns providing a distraction and comfort. Though by the end of the second hour her concentration began to fray. Discomfort from her now drying eye, and standing Still with nothing but repetitious prayers running through her mind. She could only feel relief when the Farseer turned away from Avlyr weith a nod, “Then we move. Come!”
She started as the rest of the company began forming up into ranks. She turned to return to her Sisters only to feel a hand land on her shoulder.
A sharp stable of pain and itching fire shot through Ekaterina. Whipping around she looked up into the beautifully blank helm of the Farseer. It suddenly seemed to twist and distort. -She saw blood and rubble and the smell of ash smeared across it- she saw water and leaves sticking to its surface- she saw nothing but polished bone, and oddly, she smelled the subtle perfumes of something sweet and alien. The image of a twisting beautiful tree shot through her mind.
The Farseer stood still for a long moment before she said in a low tone that seemed to make her bones shudder, “You will remain by my side today.”
She felt like screaming, she felt like crying in thanks, she nodded gruffly. Her own thoughts warring discomforted her extremely. So much so she almost didn't notice her body shifting to fall behind the Rune Priest as they began forward leading the rest of the company.
The old wolf turned, giving her a thoughtful glance. After a long moment he says in a gentle tone, “Are you well pup?”
She frowned slightly, feeling oddly challenged by the question, “I am fit enough to follow my duty lord volf.”
The venerable marine continued to look at her for a long moment before nodding and turning away.
She felt that this was going to be the most pleasant interaction of her day.
Hours later she was still correct. The awful slime of the xenos' observations continued only more regularly. And the painful itch of the two followers of the Farseer were common as well. Her confusion only grew as time continued. Why was she here with the leaders of their band? Had she angered their ‘benefactors’? And if so why was she following like this and not dead? she shivered as another wave of slime hit her mind. Ekaterina struggled to push the delusion down
It and her question infuriated her and made her uneasy as the warband continued to march. Until something changed and caught her attention. The continuous sounds of battle seemed to intensify and the yelling of soldiers began to reach them, the formless Xenos leaned in close to the Farseer.
“Fásann am mo fhís in aice. gníomhóidh sí gan mhoill.”
The Seer looked to her before nodding, “go han-mhaith. ligfidh muid don snáithe seo imirt amach.”
A sense of foreboding struck her at the aliens words. Then suddenly the air in front of the seer twisted and tore open. Jumping through was one of the Eldar wearing the strange packs.
She felt herself cough and sob. Such pain and horror washed over her when the tear began it wiped away all other feeling. Ekaterina felt tears suddenly roll down her cheeks to ping off of her breastplate. Her lungs felt like she'd been screaming for hours straight. A familiar gauntlet suddenly landed on her shoulder.
Turning she looked through tears to Jorulf who wore a deep frown. Ekaterina shook even as the pain and dread slowly dissipated into nothingness.
“That… is a shame. But the pack must hunt on.”
She looked up frowning in confusion at Alvyrs words. The venerable wolf noticed the look and sighed, “The band of soldiers we met yesterday is being surrounded. Though tragic this gives us a short window to continue our hunt unabated.”
Yet more emotions and thoughts flickered through her mind as the words settled. The banner, the old Commander who had complained about seeing no battle. They were dying. Right now. And that felt… wrong. She couldn't wrap her mind around that feeling. She'd fought many times alongside guardsfolk. She had felt sorry for the droves of dead that inevitably littered the various battle fields. However it was never this overriding sense of wrong.
Ekaterina felt in her heart of hearts. Perhaps her very soul that those soldiers could not be allowed to die.
“No… Ve can't leave them.” Her voice was weak and confused. as she tried to fight her thoughts.
Confusion washed over Jorulf and Alvyrs features. The former spoke up in a calming voice, “They fight valiantly in the Allfathers name. Their sacrifice shall bring us closer to the next den of our enemies.”
Her eyes flicked from his face to the rune priests, then to the blank visage of the Seer. It clicked then. She'd need to ask the aid of their leash holder… but how? The creature couldn't possibly care about human lives. She needed some excuse anything at all that might possibly convince the woman.
“They are merely humans. They can't possibly hold out long enough for our company to move past them. They vill need aid. A few sisters or volves would not only guarantee this distraction, but it shall also draw more attention away from the column.” The explanation felt stupid even to her own ears. She already could think of a dozen ways the plan could be shot down. Then her mind jumped to the possibility of going to help regardless. It would surely end in severe punishment but something in her gut demanded her to go no matter the cost.
“Very well. However you shall go with a Spider and a Banshee, no others.”
Ekaterina's thoughts stumbled and nearly stopped. It worked? How by the throne and ice of home did that work? And so easily. it was almost as if she expected this… Witches.
Shaking her head she cleared away the confusion. It didn't really matter she got what she wanted… mostly.
“Vhat… Vhat is a Spider, and Banshee?” She felt dread spread through her as the seer nodded to the Eldar with the large clunky pack.
“This is Ilthren of the temple of warp spiders.”
“And I am Yellvrii daughter of khaine and howling banshee.”
She twisted around in shock, almost scraping her nose against the familiar howling visage of an Eldari helm. It was the same xenos she had seen when the Eldar first arrived. Her voice sent chills down Ekaterina's spine.
For a moment she wanted to complain. However she knew time was of the essence for the guardsfolk, and she couldn't risk losing her opportunity. So reluctantly she turned to the farseer and after a moment of indecision she bowed, “thank you for your generous support Farseer.”
The words felt like acid on her tongue and tasted of that alien sweetness she had felt earlier. It almost disturbed her more than the Eldar who was far too close to her back.
Quickly straightening she turned to look at the Spider. It's helmet was shaped even more oddly than the others. With two small eyes and a large bulky jaw piece that looked like it was attempting to replicate the warriors namesake.
“Ilthren, please lead the vay.”
Asking the creatures help twisted her guts but she had to shove it down. Even as the creature gave a mocking bow, saying in a high warbling voice. “At your command lord Mon'keigh.”
She battled fiercely not to attempt to break one of its ridiculous mandibles off. The being quickly turned and began through the ruined buildings and streets of the city. Ekaterina had to sprint to keep up with what appeared to be a sedate pace for the Eldar.
As they left the company behind she felt an odd wave of calm roll over her. Yes she was alone with two Xenos but that was better than being so close to the Farseer. She hadn't even realized how tight her nerves were until she couldn't feel the Witch's presence.
It was such a relief that Ekaterina laughed lightly, letting herself enjoy the wind in her hair as she ran.
She watched the spider move, it was strange. The Eldar moved with a disjointed sort of grace. Leaping and climbing rubble easily but it was all oddly twitchy. Her arms shifted subtly into robotically perfect angles allowing the Eldar to keep total balance no matter the precarious footing. It reminded her of the creations of the Mechanicus, much to her own disgust.
The few times she looked to the banshee she saw a similar proficiency. However where the Spider was robotically perfect, the Banshee was pure grace. She danced through the ruins in an almost artful display. The simple act of her moving could have rivaled the greatest performances of dancers in the Imperium. It unsettled her how beautiful her mind found it. The thoughts pulling down her relieved emotions. Uncertainty and concern ran through her freely again.
Her thoughts were pulled yet further down when she heard the yelling. The sounds of las fire and the crude buck of slug-throwers were closer now. However the sound of men and women dying finally met her ears. The accented yells of prayer for the Emperor mingled with heretical cries of devotion in a cacophony of pain and fanatic pride.
Her feet propelled her faster forward. Her Eldari allies quickly disappeared from sight. However it didn't concern her. They were still close. She could feel their itch.
Propelling herself through a ruined window finally brought Ekaterina to the battle. Before her was the loose ragged company of guardsfolk. of what was once nearly 300 soldiers, at least a third were dead and more dieing. Beyond them was a tide. That was the only way she could describe the enemy. A stumbling mass of yelling and glinting weapons.
Turning her eyes away from the impossible odds she locked eyes with an exhausted soldier quickly closing The distance she leaned down, “vhere is your commander?”
Her voice was oddly solid despite the hurricane of emotions warring within her gut and mind.
The woman looked up eyes wide and slightly awed before pointing forward towards the front of the unit, “he's down there somewhere…”
With a firm nod she stood again. Her eyes flicked about trying to find some sign of the commander. What she saw was the company banner. That was as good a place to start as any.
She kept her head low to avoid some of the heretics' fire. The few soldiers who saw her seemed to be struck dumb in shock and sudden enthusiasm. Despite the situation, the sight of a Sister Of Battle encouraged them.
Ekaterina finally settled by the banner and it suddenly became clear how dire the situation had become. Besides the torn and bloodied banner the old captain that had spoken to Alvyr the day before was splayed out. He stared up into the sky, his throat a crimson mess.
“Vere is the second in command!?” She bellowed over the cacophony. A few moments later a young man stumbled over. His leg was a crude mess of bandages and a rough tourniquet.
“Blessed Emperor. Sister, it is good to see you.” He looked up at her through pain dulled eyes. Though his words rang true.
“Blessed be his name. vhat is the situation?”
He turned to look towards a rough embankment that acted as the front of their line, “were being hit hard Sister. At least three different large groups of cultists have attacked. The last company was torn to shreds and we have twenty minutes until reinforcements with armor show up.” While his words were given clearly. Each piece of their situation he revealed seemed to bend his back in despair.
“Do we have any support here? Artillery?” Her mind began flitting through possibilities to turn the situation around, And was coming up with very little.
“There is a wing of avengers. But they went into orbit to rearm. Maybe 8 minutes before they can come back.”
She looked about the rough terrain and landed on an embankment further back. The same one she first made it to when arriving.
“Have they been using a lot of explosives, flamethrowers?”
“No ma'am they don't seem to have anything like that. Just bodies and guns.”
She nodded at his words, “very good. We need to consolidate the line. Begin pulling your back the worst of our wounded to the ruins there.” Ekaterina pointed at the bombed out rubble behind all the fighting.
“Then return to me. Do you think you can do that-” She glanced down at his torn uniform jacket, “Lieutenant?”
“Yes ma'am.” It was clear by his face that he wanted to ask what she was doing but he quickly- or as quickly as he could with a deep leg wound- began to issue her orders.
Taking a deep breath she muttered, “oh beloved Emperor, cast your gaze down upon your daughter. Your varrior. Your servant, and bless her vith the strength and resolve to fight the never ending dark in your name.”
She turned To the torn banner planted at an odd angle besides her. With one final breath she clicked off her bolter's safety and grabbed the banner. The coarse texture of the wooden pole dug not only into her fingers but into a deep sense of overwhelming deja vu.
Ekaterina rose, weapon pointed forward and banner held high. “IN HIS NAME! TERRA INVICTA!!” Her high harsh cry cut through the sound of bullets and dying screams.
The front wave of heretics was briefly stunned by her appearance. Before they could recover her holy bolter joined her cry. Screaming its deep throated call throwing blessed penance into the wave of heretics.
Her weapons yell and her own were joined by the cries of the Firstborn, “FOR VOSTROYA! FOR THE EMPEROR!!”
Ekaterina knew this second wind wouldn't last long. She just hoped it would last long enough as she continued to fire into the mob of enemies. they had gotten over their brief shock and continued forward in a relentless assault.
She felt numerous hard dings and thunks as shells struck her armor. With her taking the majority of the heretics' attention the Vostroyans were able to deal devastating amounts of damage. Ekaterina was certain if it was any other enemy - Except perhaps the Orks - the assault would have broken. However their fanatical resolve held, and she could feel the worry and hopelessness return to the Firstborn around her.
Just then she heard a yell from the Lieutenant, “The wounded are back Sister! What next!?”
She shifted her stance to look down to the wounded man. He now grimaced openly from the pain, and his hands were curled into painful claws. “We will retreat to the ruins and that second embankment. We will do it slowly so we aren't overrun. We start with the left flank. I'll hold it until they are clear then move to the center and then right.”
He nodded, stumbling slightly, “Yes Sister… When you are ready!”
Returning his nod she turned towards the left of their line. Holding the bolter more firmly against her side she continued to fire as she walked slowly and deliberately to the edge of their line.
After settling into her new Position Ekaterina called, “Lieutenant now is the time!”
She only distantly watched as the firstborn around her began to retreat up the small hill behind her. After a moment the heretics realized what was happening and surged forward to try and make use of the moment.
Holy ordinance met them. The explosive shells tore the mob apart before her. It wasn't enough however. With the Vostroyans busy pulling back she was the only one firing into the mess of heretics. Yet before they could reach her a soul rending scream cut through all sound.
Ekaterina barely stayed standing as fire, pain, and wroth suddenly burned through her. It was as if her blood was suddenly lit on fire. The awful familiar sensation made her shake violently. Her grip barely keeping the bolter steady. She tried to focus on the source of the sound.
She realized why Yellvrii was named Banshee. Her scream wrent not only the air but flesh and bone. Nearly two dozen heretics packed together had been flayed alive. Their flesh and blood forming a fine splattering mist. Nearly double that number had stumbled falling either dead, unconscious, or screaming in anguish.
Though Just as quickly as she came it ended and the Eldar was gone into thin air. Yet it was enough. The Firstborn had made it to their position behind her and were returning fire, halting the assault.
She let out a sigh of relief. Slowly she turned and locked eyes with the Lieutenant who nodded slightly dazed and awed at the Eldars display, “Ready Sister!”
Ekaterina reloaded and trudged back to the center. This retreat was much the same. She was nearly overwhelmed only for the guard to open fire faster than the left had, saving her from a bloody melee.
Despite her armor and training she couldn't stop herself from wincing in pain as she turned to the final section of the line. The bruises under her armor made themselves known with every movement. She also had to constantly blink away blood that was dripping into her eyes. On top of the pain and discomfort, Ekaterina could easily tell that this would be the worst section of the line. With a sigh she jammed another magazine home into her bolter. She'd end up face to face with the enemy surely, even with the Banshees aid, perhaps even with both of the Eldar helping.
Shifting her stance to begin trudging the final stretch she felt her boot click against something. Looking down her eyes landed on the weak pale hand of the dead commander. Losely held in that hand was a beautifully elegant chain Sword. It was long and thin with shark-like teeth and a subtle curve… She couldn't contain a pained bark of laughter. The moment she needed a melee weapon the universe gave her one.
“May the Emperors embrace forever warm you.” She pulled the blade from his grasp as reverently as she could, despite the absurd humor of the situation. It was awkward holding the banner, bolter, and sword. holding the odd moment of joy and hilarity in her heart she continued forward.
The final section of the line was a mess of blood and newly wounded guardsfolk. A few that saw her approach sobbed oppenly in relief. this flank had been torn to pieces over the course of the last few minutes. guilt burned in her heart. they had fought and died as she was helping the others. she’d nearly taken too long to save any of them.
“Fall back to the second line! Hurry! The Emperor protects!!” She yelled as loudly as her dry throat could manage. pain blossomed as she felt something tear and blood began to pool in her mouth. however the yell was enough. Soldiers quickly scrambled away and past her desperate for a moment's reprieve.
Ekaterina gritted her teeth and fired into the charging heretics. unlike the other two sections these heretics didnt hesitate to charge. even with her holy bolter switched to automatic fire they flowed forward. she planted the banner shouldering her weapon desperate to hold them back a few more second. Agony sunk into her armpit as a rusted twisted blade sunk into the gap between her breastplate and shoulder piece. a voice that matched the blade cruely whispered in her ear. close enough for her to feel breath on her neck
“The changer of ways take you, and your corpse Emperor!”
She twisted so violently fast that the heretic stumbled back leaving his crude blade buried in her. She swung her bolter like a bludgeon. The hefty barrel crushed his temple and the edge of the mag almost tore his nose clean off. The movement and pain nearly doubled her over. looking up she groaned. her distraction was enough. dozens were now hopping over the embankment and were almost on her. Slamming her bolter to her side to magnetize to her belt. She bit back pain as the blade shifted inside her, tearing the wound wider. Ekaterina took her chain sword and clicked down its trigger. The entire weapon seemed to sing as it came alive. the over engineered motor hummed lighty. the robust but thin chain delicately bounced along its track. Like most vostroyan weapons the sword was a work of art.
She swung. Letting the momentum pull her forward into the crush of bodies. The blade barely catched as it tore through armor flesh and bone. Her power armor helped amplify Her strength allowing the weapon to move freely through the enemies. They screamed and cried prayers as they died. Ekaterina returned those cries with her own to the Emperor and as she killed. her exact words were lost under the sheer crush of the enemy and the blood bubbling from her torn throat. Another scream wrent the air far more powerful than her broken mortal one. Then a horrific tearing sound. Taking a moment she booted a heretic back looking to the wider battle. The Eldar had entered the fray.
The Banshee was the one who screamed. However, unlike before she stayed. Dancing through the humans like they were nothing but reeds. Her flashing blades flowing like water, severing limbs and ending lives.
She heard the ripping sound again. Ekaterina flicked her eyes to the source. The Spider was perched on a precarious section of rubble. Her large bulky weapon twisted at a speed barely comprehensible to the Sisters mind. Then just as quickly it shuddered and a group of heretics were torn apart. the attack was horrific. they just fell apart like poorly put together dolls whos glue just came undone. Many didn't even scream as they died.
It was so efficiently brutal, her eyes could barely comprehend the alien prowess literally tearing apart the heretics… despite every ounce of her being, from her soul to her training, she felt pity for them. She felt pangs of pain that were matched and exceeded by the men and women dying at alien hands.
Ekaterina quickly dragged her eyes away from the enemy's suffering. Only for her eyes to land on the rest of the battle. Heretics were being cut down in the hundreds but it wasn't enough. Despite everything, the hill slowing them, the slowly dwindling wave of las fire, the horrors of alien weapons, they continued inexorably forward.
She knew in her heart of hearts if the enemy reached the Firstborn that they would all die. her mind was burning, it wasn't as bad as the tomb but she could feel her mind flaking apart. Ekaterina charged up the embankment coming to a halt in the center of her line. She could see the tired faces and hopelessness of the soldiers who fought on despite everything. her bones ached as their dispare grew despite her standing their with them.
Her mind whirled for something anything to help hearten them. Her feverish tired mind conjured the battered planes diving low for a bombing run. yet they weren't here, not yet just a few more minutes. that all they needed to hold for.
A feeling rushed up her back. Like eyes watching her not like how the Eldars eyes stuck and clung to her like slime. It was overwhelming taking up every part of her and a comfort that she had never felt before came with the feeling. like a parents watchful gaze over a child. Peace settled into her heart and inspiration dawned.
Without thinking she grabbed upon it and followed the silent command, and began to sing.
Ekaterina didn't pay attention to what she was singing, only the comforting cool feeling of eyes watching registered to her. Despite her torn and frayed throat she could tell that the words were high, elegant, almost ethereal.
Distantly she heard herself begin the song again and saw a few of the soldiers open their mouths to raise voices to join with hers. By the third repetition the entire company's voices melded into a cacophony of devotion louder than the battle around them. The voices and faith of the soldiers seemed to physically push the enemy back, as if every word was a hammer blow. Turning to face them she watched as the heretics attempted to reach their line, however as soon as they got close something would stop them. a rock tripping them, a las bolt killing them, or in the more common case they simply fell screaming and clutching their skulls in agony. all the momentum of the attack had died with the start of the hymn.
as the sheer number of bodies pushing forward finally began to overcome this divine protection. hundreds suddenly disappeared in a cloud of bullets. Looking up she saw aircraft strafing the forces before them. The servants of the Imperial air force brought righteous fire down and the attack suddenly broke. The heretics turned into a true mob. Killing each other as they fled the aircraft and continuing hymn.
She kept singing, and so did the soldiers around her. Singing her devotion and love, feeling awe and reverence in those around her, the comforting gaze of something beyond her comprehension watching. tears ran down her cheeks as a depth of joy and purpose she had never felt before finally settles into her heart. She felt at home.
//
In the black void above Adren VI, away from the conflagration of the constantly skirmishing fleets, the Solveret Penna looms. Its ancient plating is blackened with centuries' worth of battle scars. it is adorned with thousands of small effigies and fetishes. They depicted in every possible shape, hew, and orientation, eyes. Their ever-present stare maintaining an endless vigil. These eyes not only watched the endless void of space, but also its internal halls. Where thousands of crew members milled below the rusted-out statues of daemons and the impossibly intricate attempts to render in metal and stone the unknowable visage of their lord and god.
Xephri watched the slaves go about their business within his ship, taking mild interest in the happenings. From the various petty squabbles in the bars to the deaths of dozens in lower-deck gang fights. With a talon, he turned the great orb set into a pedestal to a new scene. the smooth reflective surface glided into its new orientation as easily as mortals breathed.
”why are you bothering with that brother?” The gruff annoyed double voice of Phos sounded.
He smiled slightly at the question and at the clear impatience of his co-conspirator. “I enjoy keeping an eye on my ship. I find it amusing.”
A snort of annoyance sounded from his compatriot, who began pacing behind him. The armored tread of his boots sending subtle reverberations through the floor's paneling. “I suggest you turn your gaze elsewhere, Brother. The game is set and the pieces are already moving with earnest.”
Xephri allowed himself a sigh before turning to his impatient Brother. His binocular vision focused on the twisted scaled face of Phos. “And? We have our own pieces in motion. All we can do now is wait.”
Phos scowled, loosening a few scales which fell from his face to the floor, tinkling softly, “It is but a matter of time until the Eldar show themselves. Our first show and attempt at discord failed. We must be ready to cut in and take advantage of any opening.”
Phos’ scowl deepened as Xephri laughed. “Brother the Eldar have already shown their hand. They have become worried, taking a more direct role as I knew they would. Without their crutch, they flail and panic. They can’t trust humans to get the job done.”
”Then my point stands even more. We must be ready to crush them!”
He placed his talon on Phos’ broad blue shoulder plate. “Patience. This is delicate. We can’t risk scaring them off before our ends are met. The longer they flail and bleed, the harder it will be to oppose us, and the harder they will fight.”
Brushing Xephri’s hand away Phos turned back to his pacing, “Yes our ends. Ends that we could achieve ourselves if not for your obsession.” He snorted derisively.
Xephri now bristled, standing taller, letting his talons click hard against the floor as he walked to his brother. “We have spoken of this. She is essential to the plan and many more beyond.”
Phos whirled around, planting a gauntleted finger against the brilliant eye built into Xephri’s breastplate, “Essential to your plan! The stones are all that matter. We would have them already if not for your foolish quest! Their power would be ours and the world would have fallen weeks ago! The master must be dis-“
Xephri sent a pulse of psychic power forward, crushing the other sorcerer to his knees. “YOU SHALL NEVER AGAIN ASSUME THE CHANGER OF WAYS MIND!” He bellowed with both his voice and mind. The force of his yell caused Phos’ ears and eyes to bleed freely from newly popped vessels.
The marine forced himself to look up at Xephri as he continued, “I am the war master here! My decision is law, my orders shall be written as history when I utter them!”
Grabbing Phos by the neck, he drew the marine up so their eyes could meet. His golden yellow to their grey blue, “I understand you are frustrated brother! But you shall not let it get the better of you again! Battle will surely come. If you wish to busy yourself like an impatient dog, gather your company. They shall be a fine diversion.” Letting go of both his power and Phos, Xephri turned back to his gazing orb.
He could feel Phos’ glower as the marine left in a fury. Xephri was breathing hard. His blood was up and his power called to hand. Yet He forced himself to calm, pushing back his wroth and power. He was better and more controlled than his lesser. He would not be drawn into a blind whittling rage. Looking down at his orb, he sighed, letting the last of his anger bleed away into nothing but lost emotions to feed the sea of souls. With a light click of his talon, the orb swerved and twirled until it focused and landed on his ‘Obssession’