by Gav Thorpe
Aradryan was not sure Jair could guarantee his safety, not wholly, but he was reassured a little by the ranger’s words.
‘If I was to choose to fight,’ Aradryan said quietly, ‘how would that work? Where do we get weapons from?’
As if in answer, Athelennil stopped by one of the storage bay doors, which whispered open at her touch. Lights flickered into life, revealing the contents within.
The storage space was semicircular. Around the walls were hung coats and cloaks of curious design, each uniquely patterned with grey and white, matching the colour of the room. Beside each was a rifle, almost as long as Aradryan was tall, with a slender stock and complex sighting arrangement. There were shuriken pistols, long knives and slender swords also, holstered and scabbarded between the cloaks and coats. Knee-high boots, folded grey and black bodysuits and drab brown packbags were stowed on top of locker bins at the juncture of wall and floor, and hanging from the ceiling was more equipment: breathing masks and magnifying monocles; slender ropes and grapples; aquatic gear like artificial fins; furled airwings made of near-transparent thread.
Inscribed into the ceiling was an image of Kurnous, the Hunter God, once enemy of Khaine, consumed by She Who Thirsts like the rest of the ancient pantheon. Aradryan thought it a little superstitious to find such a picture here, celebrating a dead god, but said nothing.
‘This is the gear of a ranger,’ said Jair, waving a hand to encompass everything. ‘Here is all that you need to survive, wherever we go, whatever we have to do.’
‘I have never fired a gun nor swung a sword in my life,’ said Aradryan. He stepped into the chamber and reached out, fingers stroking one of the cloaks. It shimmered, the cloth he touched taking on a pinkish hue to match his skin. ‘So, this is cameleoline?’
‘Yes,’ said Athelennil. ‘Do not be concerned about your military experience, or lack of it. It is irrelevant. The task of the ranger is to fight from a distance. We locate the enemy and guide the true warriors to their target. The longrifle is the preferred weapon. Remember that the foes we fight, be they orks, humans or whatever, are far less physically adept than we. With a little training you will be a match for their best marksmen, and your coat and cloak will hide you from retaliation.’
‘I said I will keep you safe, and I will,’ said Jair.
‘It is not my life I fear for, only my sanity,’ said Aradryan. ‘I have never killed before, what if I cannot do it?’
‘Whether you join us as a ranger or not, you will learn to kill,’ said Jair. ‘We will hunt for food, and you must slay what you wish to eat if you desire meat. The farm chambers can sustain us indefinitely, but you will grow bored eventually. That is when the fresh meat of a kill tastes the best! Life is but part of the cycle, and death its only end. You know this already.’
Aradryan accepted this with a silent nod. His hand moved from the coat to the rifle beside it. He picked it up, lifting the weapon from its hook. It was surprisingly light, easily hefted in one hand. Orange and red jewels set into the blister-like housing above the trigger glowed into life at his touch, and a faint purring signalled the energising of a powercell. Aradryan turned to Athelennil.
‘Show me how it works,’ he said.
The Irdiris was one of the first ranger ships to reach Alaitoc, having received the distress call from Eileniliesh not far from the craftworld. Jair and Athelennil were to meet with the ruling council of farseers and autarchs, who were no doubt already aware of the tumult coursing across the webway. Aradryan did not feel comfortable attending the meeting, and remained with Lechthennian and Caolein aboard the ship.
It was Caolein who convinced him to step out onto the craftworld again. The two of them sat on the couches of the common area, sipping iced juice.
‘You left in pain, twice,’ said the pilot.
‘And why would I return to the source of that pain?’
‘To rid the place of its power over you. You have a rare opportunity, Aradryan. The last time you departed Alaitoc, it was twenty passes before you returned and your friends had changed much. Now you have the chance, knowing that you have a chance for happiness, to see them and assure them you are well.’
‘What if they do not care to see me?’ said Aradryan, placing his goblet on the low table by his feet. ‘The wound will reopen.’
‘The wound may fester if not addressed,’ replied Caolein. ‘The worst that happens is that you come back to Irdiris without success. You do not have to see any of them ever again, and none aboard will think the less of you for the attempt.’
Thus reluctantly persuaded, Aradryan headed into Alaitoc once more, far sooner than he had expected. He did not trust himself to use the infinity circuit – and in a way did not wish to warn his former friends of his presence – and so he travelled directly to Thirianna’s chambers. Here he was informed by the young family that now lived there that she had relocated, to quarters close to the Dome of Crystal Seers at the heart of the craftworld.
After making discreet inquiries, Aradryan located Thirianna’s new abode and took a sky shuttle there. He stood outside the door for some time, summoning up the courage. When he was finally ready, though he did not know what he would say, the door detected his intent and signalled his presence with a long chime.
The door slid soundlessly open, revealing the main chamber of the apartment. Thirianna was standing in the middle of the room, putting something into a pouch at her belt.
‘Aradryan!’ she said, turning towards her visitor. ‘This is unexpected.’
Not for the first time, Aradryan was aware that his appearance was somewhat irregular. Though he had not worn the cloak or coat, his ranger undersuit was a shifting pattern of holo-generated greens and blues, adopted from the sky and park beyond the balcony outside Thirianna’s door.
‘Hello, Thirianna,’ said Aradryan, stepping into the apartment. He smiled and offered a palm in greeting. Thirianna laid her hand on his for a heartbeat, obviously nonplussed at his arrival. ‘Sorry I could not warn you of my return.’
‘I did not expect to see you again for much longer,’ said Thirianna. She sat down and waved to a cushion for Aradryan to sit but he declined with a quick, single shake of the head.
‘I cannot stay long,’ he told her. In truth, just seeing her stirred up confusing emotions, and he was coming to the conclusion that Caolein had been wrong; this was a mistake. ‘It seems my attempt to get far away from Alaitoc was destined to be thwarted. The Irdiris intercepted a transmission from Eileniliesh. It’s an Exodite world that has been attacked by orks. We thought it wise to return to Alaitoc with the news.’
‘Preparations are already under way for an expedition,’ said Thirianna. ‘Farseer Latheirin witnessed the impending attack several cycles ago.’
‘Such is the way of farseers,’ Aradryan said with a shrug. He laughed. ‘Of course, you are becoming a seer now. Perhaps I should choose my words more carefully?’
‘I do not take any offence,’ replied Thirianna. ‘They are an enigmatic group, that is sure. I have been around them for some time and I do not yet understand their ways.’
Aradryan did not know what else to say. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other and back again, unwilling to make small talk but uncertain of broaching any deeper subject.
‘How have you fared?’ Thirianna asked.
Aradryan shrugged again.
‘There is not much yet to say,’ he said. He gestured at his outfit. ‘As you see, I have decided to join the rangers, but in truth I had not set foot off Irdiris before we had to return. On Eileniliesh we will fight the orks.’
‘That would be unwise,’ said Thirianna. ‘You have never trodden the Path of the Warrior. You have no war-mask.’
‘It is of no concern,’ said Aradryan with a dismissive wave of the hand. ‘My longrifle will keep me safe. It seems I have a natural talent for marksmanship.’
‘It is not the physical danger that concerns me,’ said Thirianna. She stood up and approached Aradryan.
‘War corrupts us. The lure of Khaine can become irresistible.’
‘There are many delights in the galaxy. Bloodshed is not one that appeals to me,’ said Aradryan. He had expected his friend to be more supportive; it had been partly Thirianna’s choices that had sent him from Alaitoc again. ‘I never realised how blinkered you could be. You see the Path as the start and the end of existence. It is not.’
‘It is,’ said Thirianna. ‘What you are doing, allowing your mind to run free, endangers not just you but those around you. You must show restraint. Korlandril, he has been touched by Khaine. His anger became too much.’
‘He is an Aspect Warrior now?’ said Aradryan, amused by the news. He could not suppress a laugh at the irony of the sculptor’s last work being a testament to peaceful Isha whilst gripped by inner anger that had burst free. ‘I did not realise my critique of his work was so harsh.’
Thirianna flicked her hair in annoyance, her fingertips pushing a stray lock behind one ear. Aradryan calmed himself, realising that he was the cause of her irritation.
‘Why have you come here?’ said Thirianna. ‘What do you want from me?’
‘Nothing,’ said Aradryan. It seemed a self-centred question to ask. He had come to assure Thirianna that he was doing well, but she was clearly too involved with her new rune-casting to care about him. ‘You made it very clear I should expect nothing from you. I came as a courtesy, nothing more. If I am not welcome, I shall leave.’
Weighing up her answer, Thirianna said nothing for a few moments, regarding Aradryan with a cool gaze. Her expression hardened.
‘Yes, I think you should leave,’ said Thirianna. Aradryan felt a stab of disappointment, anger even, but he nodded his acquiescence. Thirianna’s harsh stare relented slightly. ‘Please take care of yourself, Aradryan. I am pleased that you came to see me.’
Aradryan took a step towards the door, summarily dismissed, but Thirianna’s last words fixed in his thoughts; she did care about him. Caolein had said that this was a second chance to part on better terms, but Aradryan had managed to squander the opportunity. Should he make amends, he thought? Did he need to tell her that he missed her?
‘Goodbye,’ he said, one hand on the edge of the open door. ‘I do not expect us to meet again. Ever.’
Aradryan meant what he said. He wanted Thirianna to know that this was likely the last time she would see him. As a ranger he would travel far away, and he had no desire to come back. If he died, lost and forgotten on some distant world, he would be happy with such a fate.
‘Goodbye,’ Thirianna replied. ‘Travel well and find contentment.’
With a sigh, Aradryan turned away and moved out of view. The door swished across the opening, and Aradryan headed along the balcony with a swift stride, annoyed with himself; for listening to Caolein and for letting Thirianna have the final say
As he was about to take the turn towards the stairwell, he heard Thirianna calling his name. His heart raced in his chest for a moment, but he kept his expression impassive as he turned to look over his shoulder at her.
‘Please see Korlandril,’ Thirianna called out to him. Aradryan nodded and raised a hand in acknowledgement. She was more concerned about Korlandril than him. So be it, thought Aradryan.
Perhaps it was egotism that prevented Aradryan returning directly to Irdiris; the thought of reporting his failure to Caolein nagged at him. The encounter with Thirianna, while not an absolute disaster, had left Aradryan feeling a little raw and unable to face the questions Caolein would have for him if he came back without achieving at least some kind of understanding with his former friends. Also, he had promised, tacitly, to see Korlandril, and so to the ex-Sculptor’s home Aradryan travelled next.
The door opened before Aradryan just in time to show Korlandril stepping into a side chamber. He waited for a moment, but there was no word of welcome, nor any call to leave.
‘Things change again,’ said Aradryan, calling out the first thing that came into his head in lieu of anything more profound. Korlandril stepped back into the main room, eyes widening with shock.
‘Things change again,’ agreed Korlandril. He stared at Aradryan for some time before gesturing for his guest to seat himself. The ranger declined with a slight shake of the head.
‘I have come out of courtesy to the friendship we once shared,’ said Aradryan. ‘I thought it wrong to come back to Alaitoc and not see you.’
‘I am glad that you have come,’ said Korlandril. ‘I owe you an apology for my behaviour the last time we met.’
Aradryan was taken aback by this outright confession. Of Thirianna and Korlandril, it was the latter Aradryan considered he had wronged the deepest, but his dreaming partner seemed sincere in his sorrow.
‘It was never the case that we wronged each other intentionally,’ replied Aradryan, feeling that he needed to meet honesty with honesty, ‘and neither of us owes the other anything but respect.’
‘I trust your travels have been fruitful?’
Aradryan smiled and nodded. And lied.
‘I cannot describe the sights I have seen, the thrill of adventure that has coursed through my veins. The galaxy has been set out before me and I have experienced such a tiny fraction of the delights and darkness it has to offer.’
‘I too have been on a journey,’ said Korlandril, cleaning his hands with a cloth.
‘I have heard this,’ said Aradryan. Korlandril looked at him and raised his eyebrows in question. Aradryan was not quite sure how to bring up Korlandril’s change of Path, and chose his words carefully. ‘Thirianna. I met with her first. She told me that you are now an Aspect Warrior.’
‘A Striking Scorpion of the Deadly Shadow shrine,’ said Korlandril. He delicately rinsed his hands and dried them under a warm vent above the sink. ‘It does not anger me that you saw Thirianna first. My parting from her is an event of the past, one with which I have wholly come to terms.’
Aradryan’s eyes swept the living quarters, taking in the Isha statues arranged around the room. Each of them wore the face of Thirianna, or close representations of the same. Aradryan smiled and darted a doubtful look at Korlandril.
‘Well, perhaps not wholly,’ the warrior admitted with a short laugh. ‘But I truly bear you no ill-will concerning your part, unwitting as it was, in the circumstances that engulfed me.’
‘Have you seen her recently?’
Korlandril shook his head.
‘It would serve no purpose. If I happen to cross her path, it will be well, but it is not my place to seek her company at this time. She and I travel to different places, and we make our own journeys.’
‘Someone else?’ suggested Aradryan.
Korlandril seemed confused for a moment, and then his lips parted silently in an expression of realisation.
‘Aha!’ laughed Aradryan.
‘It is not like that,’ Korlandril said hurriedly. ‘She is a fellow warrior at the shrine, it would be entirely inappropriate for us to engage in any deeper relationship.’
Aradryan was aware of no such convention amongst Aspect Warriors and allowed Korlandril to see his doubt rather than say anything out loud. The two of them stood in silence, comfortable if not pleasant, before Aradryan realised that as a Striking Scorpion, Korlandril would be bound for Eileniliesh too. ‘I have also come to give you advance warning that you will be shortly called to your shrine.’
‘How might you know this?’ asked Korlandril, frowning fiercely. ‘Have you spoken to Kenainath?’
‘I would not tread foot in an Aspect shrine! And your exarch does not venture forth. No, it is from first-hand knowledge that I am aware of this. I have just returned from Eileniliesh. It is an Exodite world not so far away. Orks have come to Eileniliesh and her people call on Alaitoc for help. I have come back as their messenger. Even now the autarchs and farseers debate the best course of action. There is no doubt in my mind that they will issue the call to war.’
‘And I will be ready to answer it,’ said Korlandril. At the
mention of war, his whole posture had changed. His eyes had become hard as flint, his jaw set. It unsettled Aradryan, who had last seen that look just before Korlandril’s outburst at the unveiling. The ranger thought it better to depart before the good grounds he had established with his friend were destroyed by some chance remark or perceived difference.
‘I have my own preparations to make,’ said Aradryan, taking a step towards the door. ‘Other rangers are gathering here to share what they know of the enemy. I must join them.’
Korlandril nodded his understanding. Aradryan was at the door before Korlandril spoke again.
‘I am glad that you are alive and well, my friend,’ said the warrior, sincerity in every word.
‘As am I of you, Korlandril.’ Aradryan replied out of instinct but realised he meant it. The bonds of dreaming-partner went deep, deeper than ordinary friendship, and Korlandril had once meant a great deal to him. ‘I do not know if I will see you on Eileniliesh or before we leave. If not, then I wish you good fortune and prosperity until our next meeting.’
‘Good fortune and prosperity,’ echoed Korlandril.
Aradryan stepped out of the apartment with a lighter step than he had entered. As the iris-door closed behind him, the ranger took a deep breath. Alaitoc would be in his past now. He would discover what the future held at Eileniliesh.
Discovery
The Maze of Linnian – In the ancient days before Ulthanesh and Eldanesh were sundered from each other and Khaine wreaked his bloody vengeance during the War in Heaven, Eldanesh looked to the protection of his people while Ulthanesh turned his gaze out to the wider world. Intrigued, Ulthanesh left the house of his family and searched far and wide in the wilderness. It was slow work, though, for the winds were strong and the terrain harsh. Seeking shelter one night on the slopes of Mount Linnian, Ulthanesh came upon a golden gateway in a cave. At first he was afraid, and he left the cave, daring the cold twilight. The next night he came upon another golden gateway, behind a magnificent waterfall. Still Ulthanesh was too afraid to pass the portal. On the third night, when he saw a glimmering gateway atop a distant hill, Ulthanesh resolved to himself that he would not be frightened any more. He passed through the gateway, and found himself in another place: the Maze of Linnian. The labyrinth stretched across the world, above and beneath it, with many turning passages and dead-ends to frustrate Ulthanesh. There were hidden chambers where monsters and other perils awaited, and mighty were Ulthanesh’s deeds to overcome these foes and obstacles. All was worthwhile, for the Maze of Linnian brought Ulthanesh unto glorious highlands and fertile hills, spanned the stars with rainbow bridges and delved into the sparkling depths beneath the world of the eldar. In time, Ulthanesh returned to the house of his family and gathered his followers. Now that he knew they were there, Ulthanesh saw the gleam of the golden gates everywhere, and with his sons and grandsons he explored their secrets.