Interlude One

Interlude One: Of trickery and kind deeds


I inspected my newest sword forged. It was a good sword, not the mightiest and not the least of my arsenal and as all swords it would cut fools and test the worthy.

It had demands of me, as all newly born swords do. Unlike most, these did not involve death. I was unpleasantly surprised but sighed. Each sword had its eccentricities I suppose.

It wished for me to watch a play as its family would play its first and that it be allowed to see, it demanded for me to look over their travels and to seek if there is anything worthy to be found in it.

I agreed, I have been asked for worse things from those I loved.

I was greeted with two interesting ideas and a blasphemy from a play with sixty-three ways it could end and two acceptable means by which it could end there. The play was middling I suppose, it lacked complexity and death even as its scope was acceptable. Its audience; the fools and the craven lead by a half warrior half child rearer made it interesting. Perhaps it was a part of the show?

I gave it my smile, it would not do to be rude at a child's first song. I have seen worse and far more boring from those older and more experienced.

A middling blessing for a middling performance so that they may recover from it faster and perhaps make better ones in the future.

A kind gift was given by an older brother to a younger one, one which was given by said younger brother to his older one.

Said older brother laughed as a debt formed and the older brother was proud of his younger one and thankful for the small gift.

A kind boon for a kind gift, one which I shared with my servants and fools so that they too may enjoy the kindness of the family of my newest sword. They rejoiced for it was a song they could sing!

Life continues to be miserable, but it is now brighter.

My other half approves, my newest sword was happy, the fools were not. I smiled at their misery and I remembered that smiling could bring fun.

A new sword always brought good tidings!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

' I don't want to die, I don't want to die, I don't want to die!' Was the mantra I took upon me as I followed the Warhost back home.

Followed was a misleading term for I was technically in the front as one of its two scouts, my duty to scout ahead for dangers so that my comrades could return home safely.

Our leader was older than any eight of us put together and it showed as it managed to negotiate our safe return home from the jaws of death, jaws in which I put myself in as well as my cousin, uncle and the other unfortunate souls that I found myself having to call comrades today.

When we left from home, none liked our leader. He was rude, he was standoffish and always seemed to look down on all that beheld his gaze, as if any common eldar was equal in his eyes to the lesser races. Now nobody did so, we were thankful the old cantankerous pit of insults, spite and the very rare wisdom was leading us back home.

We'd be dead if it was anyone else.

'Who heard of the greatest and most Murderous servants of Khaine to ask for PARLEY!?' I silently screamed in the privacy of my mind as my cousin and I finished scouting the Webway passages that branched from our route in order to ensure none would catch us in a pincer.

There was none to do so to us today. I like to think we were running too fast for anyone to even notice us. No, the truth was more likely that they could see the red hand upon my helmet and were running as far as they could. I would do so too if it was not attached to me.

"Nothing to report Mission Leader, no sighting in the branching tunnels." I reported.

My report was echoed by my cousin.

"Good, we are one hour from home. Once we're home you will come with me to report to the seers and the Masters." He said and I thanked all of the gods that we had managed to run so fast.

A trek that took two weeks from home to the world we met death in, only took five days to return from the same.

I was just happy I could return back home to my young child and my husband. I longed to hear their songs again.

The hour passed in silence, the guards welcomed us warmly until they saw my helmet. They stammered in fear. My Mission Leader plowed through their questions and fear and barked his orders in the same cadence he saved our life with.

"Inform the seers and any Masters, be they of war, dialogue or bone. I bring grave news. I will meet them in the Seers sanctum, please ensure that the farseer is there. Our mission failed."

The guards hesitated but my leader removed his helmet and gave them a look of despair that was mirrored by every single one of our warhost behind our helmets.

"Hurry, there is no time to doubt."

They allowed us passage, mobilization was called as the masters, the seers and the farseer were called to listen to our words.

The seers sanctum was filled. A room meant to handle fifty people at most held almost double that.

My own family tried to sing to me, their tones confused but glad I had returned. I told my husband to keep our son in-doors and be armed. Confusion met my statement, then conviction. My husband would do as I ordered for now but he expected answers. The alarms started blaring shortly after. I silenced our choir.

The rest of my relatives that sang to me were told to be silent and prepare.

"Why have you called for this meeting Disseth Aisse? You may be a veteran of fire with a mission from the farseer, but such meetings are not called lightly." A master of fire asked kindly.

The man was asking what all wondered but he got to vocalize it for he was Disseth Aisse's own master.

We sang with our souls in remembrance of what we have gone through. We started with the first few seconds of our passing through the Webway and my cousin's and I's poor showing followed by the poor showing of the rest of the War host. A third of the assembled snickered at our saviors' insults of his own followers.

They stopped once we showed them the Mask of Khaine lecturing his students.

Once we were done the farseer shouted.

"You were sent to retrieve a healer and a seer that might one day become my peer. How did you do this? Is this some sort of jest?"

"I will not bother with explaining what I have seen and felt as the Bloody Handed God smiled at me. If you wish answers you will check through the skeins of fate and confirm whether or not I speak the truth or I have been subjected to one of Cegorachs' most realistic pranks. I will accept any punishment if it turns out we were pranked. We do not have the time for posturing." the Mission leader responded to the farseers stupefied tone.

The rest of those gathered nodded in approval. If what they saw was genuine then the faster they confirmed the better, if it was not then punishment would be swift at least. I prayed we were pranked.

The farseer squinted his eyes but nodded, this would save time.

The seers came closer to their senior madman as their runes started to glow. The farseer started to burn black.

"A smile, I smile, a smile of blood and murder, a-a-a-a-a-a-a nod of approval. The brandishing of a sword, a laugh shared of Cegorach and Khaine, *aaaaagh!*" The farseer screamed as his skin turned black and he fell.

He still lived as the healers rushed to keep him alive.

The seers nodded at each other, a conversation of soulsongs and thoughts ensued. We were not privy to what was being discussed, none but the seers were.

The seers then turned to me after ten heartbeats of deliberations.

"We have come to a conclusion. The Bloody Handed God approves of what happened during your mission, and the decision of his Mask. Congratulations Taraithe Tagasta, you are now the first divinely recognized hero ever born on Craftworld Anaen." The eight seers said with little joy and even less compassion.

I whimpered, I wanted to hug my husband and give him many more children. Anything to keep me from leaving home or being in this room.


AN: Taraithe Tagasta ->Traoithe gasta- quick feet.

I did not lie, this is not a chapter, this is an interlude.