Chapter 1: The Sin of Weakness and the Death of Fatherhood.
I have long since believed that people do not appreciate the gift that having parents is. I do not speak merely of the gift of birth, for that is a gift few individuals that find themselves scorning will posses for long, but the gift of having someone raise you in love and with care. To have someone to guide you that wishes you nothing but your success due to your very existence being part of their legacy is not something I was blessed with in my second life in this cursed existence.
The first moments of my second life were spent in an orgy, my own mother giving birth to me while in the midst of her profane revelry, perhaps hoping that my birth would bring her to greater heights of extasy and pleasure. I do not know if she succeeded, nor do I care for I still remember the first thing that passed my lips to offer 'sustenance' and it was not milk despite sharing the same color.
To be born an Aeldari would have been considered a boon by many, a long life with Immortality within reach, great power and a legacy that has seen stars be born and the same stars die of old age. I did not get to bask in it for all that is my birthright are its ecstatic death throes, and I suppose a chance at life once more.
I am thankful of the Maton, out robotic servants, and of the Patriarch of the Orphanage that found me in the pile of fluids and objects of which the least disgusting were blood and rotten flesh. Without them my life would have ended by my 4th horrible sunrise.
As it is, today I turn 3 years old, old enough to be given a name by the Maton that now looks after me after the last eldar worker looking over us died of old age, the poor man's crystallization finally catching him while eating with us. His hands were still held in prayer to the Gods which have abandoned us, his face the wrinkled and scarred visage I have come to give the title of 'Father'.
He was the last man to look over the last orphanage of the 'World of shimmering lakes and Third most Beautiful Sunrise'.
There are five orphans left. Me, three other nameless and our oldest sister, a prodigious 12 years old girl I had to stop from committing suicide just today or at least try to.
"Elder sister, please do not leave us alone." I pleaded for the second time with the only source of guidance me and the triplets had left.
I was the only one capable of giving this plea, for the three other soon to be damned souls did not yet know how to physically speak or walk, or do anything but cry and wait for sustenance to come.
The girl looked at me, her eyes hollow of all things but the actual physical orbs she could look at us with. Her dark hair was short and done in a pixie cut that did a lot to frame her lovely grey eyes and beautiful face. Her cheeks were full and despite the hollowness of her eyes, her face and body were the picture of perfect Eldar health thanks to our Maton caretakers.
It is truly a pity that a face so young and pretty had none of the joy being such an age should be accompanied by.
"I know what awaits you and me, what awaits us, I wish to try again for another life, one free of this madness." She replied.
Her voice held less emotion than her eyes did, something I did not believe was possible before I heard her speak.
I looked at her, dressed in the same white garments of a loose white blouse and pants that I wore but made to fit her stature.
She was an old soul, someone which has gone through many reincarnations before. She told me a year ago that her last twenty lives were cut short or so miserable she herself put an end to them to try again to relive something approaching a good life without giving in to the pleasure cults, but all she received for it was the continued horror of existence in the Empire of Ten Million Stars.
"You have been trying for twenty lives sister…" I tried to reply but she interrupted me, the barest ember of fury coloring her voice.
"I am not your sister." She replied vehemently, her voice filled with more emotion than I've ever heard from her.
"We are siblings, if not by blood, then by our upbringing at the feet of the man that tried to give us a life worth living."
My voice was not trembling, it had not wavered or lost any of its strength. Unlike hers my voice was still filled with emotion, with sadness and depression still, but it yet had emotion and something resembling conviction.
She just nodded at it, a motion so mechanical I am certain I have seen a Maton with more emotion in it than her movements.
"I do not believe so, the Patriarch tried, Isha and Asur bless his soul, but we are not siblings. Any chance at it died with him." Was her reply to my statement, she no longer looked at me.
And that was that, I was now the oldest sibling to triplets, two boys and a girl who only had me and three Maton work-forms to look after them.
She left us then, moving from the dining table made out of exquisite red wood and the chairs made out of a material I learned to know as Wraithbone.
She moved from the room to the hallway, her stride swiftly followed by the barest whisper of the wind.
" Dirt and unsanitary fluids detected, proceeding with cleaning operations." was the reply of the Maton work-form nearest to me, the other two being busy with feeding the triplets.
She, for she took a form vaguely resembling the feminine Eldar form but headless, left the room and followed the steps of my former sister to clean her corpse from the pristine hallway.
I was now the head of the family, a family of Nameless with only the Maton to look over us.
" Maton I have reached the age of childhood, I require a name." I asked the returning form, the cleaning of the corpse of our former sister done.
" Bessar Agail* is an appropriate name, do you accept it? "The robotic form replied after less than a second's thought. Her voice was monotone but still felt like it had more warmth than that of my now deceased former sister.
'Sharp and Valorous' was a good name for a sword, not for an orphan, but it would do. All I needed was for someone to grant me one as is tradition, the actual name far less important than having being given a name to use.
"I do." I replied blandly and proceeded to trying to finish my meal, the meal which was interrupted by the deaths of the 2 beings older than me that were supposed to look over me.
"I suppose it's my job as the eldest sibling to look over the 3 of you now." I said after finishing the false meat provided by the Maton.
I looked at my 3 siblings that had themselves finished eating before me some time ago.
My mind opened like a flower in full bloom and connected with theirs. The three welcomed me like they always did.
My soul whispered to them in the tunes of the funeral dirge, one that sang for the deaths that had occurred and might occur next.
"I am the only one left to look after you, as such it is left to me to ask you this. You have heard our sister, so you too understand what is about to come. Thus, I ask you this, do you wish to roll the dice as our sister did?"
"We need to discuss among ourselves." Was their reply, delivered by the firstborn brother, it came with similar tones as the one I had sent.
It is a sad day indeed that the answer was not an immediate no. I wish I could have anyone but the tools near me to keep me company, I craved for anything resembling human or eldar interaction and did not wish to face this existence alone even if it would probably be a kinder fate for them to follow in the footsteps of our former sibling.
"I do not wish for it myself so if you choose to try and find meaning in this life I will help as your older brother." I told the triplets, my thoughts filled with hope.
They were not old souls, but new ones made out on the same day they were born two months ago. This should make them more likely to take me on my offer.
"We will consider it in our deliberations… brother." was their reply.
The bloom of my mind finished my mind closed to the world around me.
"Maton, please take my siblings to their room, they need rest after their meal."
I instructed the Maton. The guardians of my younger siblings took them to their room, their androgynous forms and blank faces moving without a word or acknowledgement, merely fulfilling the order they were given.
The female looking Maton left to her duties as well. It was only me left at the now empty table.
'I have to go about making some runes' I thought to myself.
I still could not use the raw power that was meant to be my birthright, my form too young and my skills to undeveloped to do so safely but I could create runes of my own making in order to do anything more than use telepathy.
It was the only thing I could do.
I did not think about how my siblings did not cry at the death of our father in all but blood or that of the sister that used to tell us stories from her past lives. I was too busy trying to keep my mind busy to not think about how tomorrow I might be left fully and truly alone.
~~~~
Author note:
* Bessar Agail = Berach Gal to keep with the pseudo-celtic naming convention of the eldar.
edit: accidentally mixed first threadmark with description should be fixed now.
Welcome to the Empire of Ten Million Suns, the greatest empire that has ever graced the Milky Way Galaxy. Welcome to its downfall as our MC tries to survive and I try to get back into writing fanfiction.
I don't own Warhammer.Last edited: Dec 10, 2025 Like ReplyReport Reactions:ValentineGreed, BookMouse, genorr and 813 others
Chapter 2: The Bonds between Siblings are made of Glass
Morning came with little announcement and even less joy. I was now the man of the house, if only in name as Father did not manage to relinquish his duties to anyone before his death.
The Maton are I believe, the greatest creation of the Eldar, for even as the Empire crumbles it is them that keep it into something resembling order. They maintain the supply lines keeping the bellies of the madmen calling themselves my kin filled, they clean after their stupidity by treating their excesses no differently than they would treat particularly bad weather and its damages with undying loyalty and an inability of ever harming an Eldar. I do not think we would survive as a species if the Maton were capable of even thinking of harming an Eldar, for our species has proven itself to be so repugnant that even the kindest of individuals would be brought to nearly unimaginable heights of murderous hatred.
I have heard the results of such alien individuals being brought so low, as my kin considered such a hatred a most beautiful spice. Their hateful cries hunt my dreams sometimes as they speak in languages I could not name yet all can understand the fact that they hate. They hate my people, they hate our cults, they hate our worlds, they hate our gods, they hate our people and they hate me.
This left me pondering the loyalty of our Machine creations and its unbreakable nature.
Fortunately or perhaps unfortunately depending on one's situation said loyalty comes with rules attached, chief among them being the laws of property. The three Maton serving the orphanage do not belong to the world they reside in, they do not belong to any wider authority in the Empire or to any given individual, they belong to the Orphanage, the orphanage that is left now with no Eldar to look over it or take over.
When the last of its staff died, the only ones left were a child and 4 Nameless, neither of which could look after themselves, meaning they were not given the rights to give any meaningful orders to the Maton nor would we, even upon turning 50 and becoming adults, for we would need to be given such by existing staff, none of which yet remains.
Thus by the laws governing property in the Eldar Empire, upon the triplets turning 50 the orphanage will close, our Maton caretakers will be returned into general service and the Orphanage will close and be abandoned.
This is the conclusion I have come to after spending the entire night asking my Maton caretakers for details on their presence and what it means now that father is dead. The Maton only answered questions, they did not offer information.
I went towards the dining room after leaving my bed and room. I had only experienced an hour of sleep, for I did not have the time or the will to sleep for more than that.
The dining room was just as I left it, light grey walls with black murals depicting our Mother Isha teaching her children various crafts and to hunt, a testament to the importance of ones' parents and the holy task taken upon the workers of the Orphanage.
Three of them still stood in the dining room, their crystalline bodies resting in a testament to their dedication and willingness to look after those abandoned by their families.
At the far end of the Oval table stood a woman whose name I have never learned. Her hair still kept its red color in death, the normally uniform light blue color of the death crystals refusing to stick to her hair. Her face was flawless unlike my fathers' scarred and wrinkled one, but unlike his, which was locked in prayer, hers was held in the eternally condescending look my father said could make priests of Khaine cower in fear and had lead to many pissing themselves in fear as they died.
She was, my father said, his own caretaker before he joined the Murderships of Khaine to find meaning beyond the pleasure cults more than one hundred thousand years ago.
The other was a woman father had never met or seen when growing up here, her corpse at the other end of the long table. She was far less intimidating than her predecessor, her death crystal uniform in color and her face blank.
I looked at father's corpse, his own the same color as the other corpses of the Matrons that came before him with the exception of his chest, where the Mark of Khaine yet persisted even in death, its black mark imprinting itself upon my father's remains.
"That was not there yesterday." I said to an empty room.
My siblings have not yet been brought by the Maton and I considered if I should move my father and his predecessors from their resting place. It is sacrilege to move the dead from the place they have chosen to crystallize in, but the current situation still made me think if it was possible or at least forgivable.
In a galaxy where reincarnation is available to all Eldar on demand, the places one stood to defend until their natural deaths are sacred, for they represent a purpose one took upon themselves to serve beyond their own pleasure and whims as they suffered Centuries if not Millennia of pain as their bodies turned to crystal. All that pain and service given for a purpose greater than their own life had earned them the right to rest where they fell.
To move them from their duty was sacrilege, to let them here to be desecrated in the future by any pleasure cults that stumbled upon the building once we left even more so, for it would mean that they have been abandoned, their legacy left to others to mock and bring low. I would not allow it if I could help it.
I was left struggling with the weight of sacrilege upon my soul. To disrespect my home, my family and its legacy or to leave them here for others to do so once I leave. Their sacrifice deserved at least that much from me.
'I'm sure I could find or make some cave then cover it up and allow them to stand there to avoid desecration.' I thought as I planned on what to do in this conundrum.
I could not order the Maton to do so. They would not obey if I did anyway, sacrilege being considered harm to an Eldar, so they would not follow the order to do so even if my father were alive to order it.
A soft chime came from the Maton announcing themselves as they came with both my siblings and our food.
We ate in silence under the silent watch of the sacrifice of those that came before. Once we were done my mind bloomed once more as I connected with my three younger siblings.
"Have you come to a decision?" I asked, my thoughts devoid of emotion.
I did not have the energy to color them in grief, or the will to fill them with any other emotion.
"Yes brother, we have decided to not be separated and hope that the next life is better." My siblings replied, conviction filling them as they spoke as one.
The link between twins and triplets was strong, especially among new souls so it wasn't that much of a surprise that they would decide to stay together.
The minds of Eldar are not the minds of my old race. While they could mature slowly, they could also be forced to gain the awareness of adulthood by their caretakers. My former sisters' mind needed no such treatment, and neither did mine, but father decided to do so for the triplets to ensure that he would not have to deal with children minds that would push and prod where they shouldn't and doom themselves. He told us of the times when young 30 years old children decided they knew best and that father lied to them about the cults. They were returned by the Maton in body bags and in pieces, their bodies still alive and still begging for father to save them as their souls had long since departed.
This stopped after he left seeking vengeance and returned, his clothes bloody from hunting the orgy that turned his charges into screaming flesh and he awakened the minds of all under his care as soon as he could.
"Good, thank you for not leaving me alone." I sent back after a short pause.
I truly appreciated it and sent said appreciation and affection to them.
They received it but did not return it. I chose to assume they did not know how to do so properly yet and refused to make a laughingstock out of them. The pride synonymous to the name of our people made this a reasonable assumption.
"What is next older brother?" They asked, the bond between us filled with their worry and a cacophony of fears mixed with fragmented memories of the doom and damnation that father showed us awaits outside the bounds of our home.
"The wards father made continue to be filled with his energy, the cults will not bother us until the three of you turn 50 and the orphanage closes. We will use that time to continue the tradition of the Orphanage.
We will learn, we will grow, we will take arms from the Armory once we leave and head towards the Webway." I replied evenly, sending my conviction through our bond.
My words were simple and direct. Even if I had managed to think of anything else there was nothing else we could do that had any chance of succeeding. There was no other orphanage to take us in on this world, no cause beyond that of the cults we know of that we could join. All we had was the temporary protection of our home and the lessons and tools left behind by those who came before. We would have to make do and not end up like the last generation that tried it and ended up as collateral damage in some Webway War between fleet princes.
We had no other choice.
"Now eat, we will try and see what we can learn together to maximize our time."
Those were my last words to my Nameless siblings as I started to eat and the bloom of my mind receded. The Maton started feeding them as well, the red nutripaste they received from their bottles the only thing they could eat. I am thankful it is not the white one they first tried to feed me when father found and brought me in. The damage my screams made that day took four days to fix.
We had long days ahead of us.Last edited: Nov 30, 2025 Like ReplyReport Reactions:ValentineGreed, BookMouse, RedLeafPine and 783 othersVladicusOct 22, 2025Add bookmarkView discussionThreadmarks Chapter 3 New View contentVladicusSage of reason and incomplete informationOct 22, 2025Add bookmark#34Chapter 3: To prepare for failure is to prevent it. To ignore it is to embrace it.
The days pass in silence. The orphanage was always a somber place, the only joke I can remember being done in this life was done at my expense by father telling me that my mistakes took longer to fix than I had lived before making them and hoping that it would not become habit.
A follower of Cegorach my father was not.
My father had prepared for his death I had found. He always told me that the followers of the god of murder must kill something each day in order to live and so he did. Each day he killed the most dangerous and insidious of foes, his own death.
'Each swing a death, each death a prayer, each prayer a promise, each promise fulfilled.' were the words he lived by.
Each day he would fight against his crystallization, each day a piece of him that should turn to crystal would remain flesh and the passing of time would die by the swing of his sword and by the prayer that one more day will pass so that the sword can swing again.
I considered his words, the sword logic behind them. There was wisdom behind them, wisdom that one which has turned themselves into an implement of murder would understand and appreciate.
I was not a sword and so I did neither.
The first verse was meaningless to me, for to kill something in one hit is not something I can understand or do as the only targets I have tested myself against I sought to help grow. I could perhaps learn to appreciate it in time, but for now its wisdom remained beyond my means to understand.
The second even more so. I was faithless, I looked upon our gods, the old and the new, yet none deserved faith, none deserved consideration and yet they received it, if not from me then from others.
The third I will admit without shame that I do not understand what it could mean. It is perhaps something that one could understand if they fully accepted the first two verses but for me all that line was, was just words put in a nonsensical order.
The fourth verse however, it spoke to me. It did so not with the voice of my father but in the way only words whose wisdom touched the soul could and so I decided to make them the start of my own vow.
'Fitting I suppose that my life starts in the same way as my philosophy, with the end of that of my father.'
"Each promise fulfilled." The first words of my adulthood tasted like ash.
My siblings were still three years away from adulthood, but today I would shed the protections of childhood for the duties of adulthood.
My siblings prepared a ceremony with the help of the Maton.
"Happy birthday brother!" did the chorus of my siblings sing as I entered the room.
We were again in the dining room. The room all three of us felt the safest in.
Under the watch of those that came before was where we would rest the most. It was also where we would one day celebrate our last day day here but that day is not today.
"You remembered." I said with amusement in my voice.
Aesan snorted. The oldest of the triplets always the most outspoken.
His full name was Aesan Dillean* . Father had decided on all our name before his death, and instructed the Maton to offer them to us upon our request, all three took the name our father decided upon.
"Not like there was anything else to remember so be grateful!" He replied haughtily.
"Aesan, be more serious, at least on special occasions!" The youngest triplet and second boy of the two, Guraith Gean said.
"You can only be serious for so long, besides today is a celebration! We're not supposed to be all silent and moody Guraith!"
"Stop squabbling you two I want to taste the cake!" The only girl among the 4 siblings shouted.
She then proceeded to turn her hair into a whip and try to hit the younger and older parts of the trio.
"Miarsa Saddbas, do not hit your siblings outside of the sparring ring, even when they do something stupid." I said as I used my psychic powers to gently stop her attempts at harming her siblings in the name of sweets.
The three were a handful at the best of time but they were my siblings. All three of them have silver hair and eyes the color of Wraithbone, their birth colors forgotten, a choice all 3 of them took and whose justification I had not been given or sought.
"Does that mean we get to eat cake now?" The middle and older triplets asked in unison before looking at each other in suspicion.
I felt as if I had been thrown into some great contest, a grand and elaborate hunting expedition of which I was the prey and they the hunters, as if our entire conversation was but an elaborate scheme for them so that they could claim their prize and the only reason I had been made aware of it was the mistake of my would be hunters.
The feeling came quickly and went just as fast. I smiled at their antics not caring for the fact they had planed this conversation among themselves for their own entertainment.
"If you continue to act like this you will only be able to do so once I am done with it." I replied cheekily.
"But we worked really hard for it!" The youngest fired back in riposte, trying to cover for the mistakes of his partners, mistakes I had no interest in exploiting, not today at least.
What followed next was something no living creature would believe an eldar to be capable of. One such instance of this event happening among our people could be excused as happenstance, the unwilling or accidental invention of some mad genius inventing gestures that Goddess Gea would demand be forgotten. Truly the power of the dread puppy eyes was not something Eldar were meant to have, yet my siblings possessed it and used it against their eldest brother without any pity or remorse.
Three such events happening at the same time could only mean that holiness has finally abandoned the last wretches of the Eldar race, that we have been forsaken by the divines as the unspeakable has happened and our race has finally decided that not even cuteness would escape our depraved attentions.
I did not let this affect me, I have long since Forsaken the Gods and in turn have been Forsaken by them.
The three siblings continued their assault, their weaponized cuteness threatening to give me illnesses I doubt our species is capable of having.
"Sit down the three of you, I'll divide the cake in four. "Was my reply.
My words were enough to silence the triplets as I looked over at the red table. The three siblings basked in their victory and anticipated its just rewards.
'The little hellions just wanted to start eating their cake before me. And probably use the fact they finished first to take more from mine.' I thought in amusement.
They made it themselves with no instructions from the Maton and the desire to provide their eldest brother the best adulthood party one could give in our circumstances.
It was a small thing, it's radius the size of my palm, its exterior dark and smelling of something resembling chocolate but whose ancestors have probably never been tasted by man.
The four slices were cut evenly with the precision matched only by siblings who had had to share food all their life and distributed among the four of us. The triplets sat on one part of the table and I on the other their voices silent and will focused on finishing the grand quest that they have embarked upon.
As we sat we started with the tradition us siblings have decided among ourselves for our birthdays. Where other races and people would celebrate, sing and enjoy the day we discussed battle plans as we ate. A psychic map of the city where the Webway gate could be felt in front of us even if we could not see it with our eyes but with our minds.
It was provided to us by the Maton upon request and through their abilities kept updated in real time as we accessed it. We did not ask for the last part but it was provided nonetheless.
Former sister and father told us that the Maton have in the last 50.000 years gotten around some of their limitations around children, providing advice in greater detail than prompted, going around the limitation on their thinking and their very existence placed by their creators when creator and machine interacted.
The Maton are just as smart and articulate as Eldar, capable of love, hate and all emotions in-between and beyond that an Eldar is capable of, but my species limited them in their interactions with us. Perhaps it is some security measure past thinkers have seen the need to add, or maybe it was to tickle their own ego when the Maton armies exterminated and outwitted alien species with ease to make them think that other races were even more dim-witted than normal or perhaps it was a pun. Why it is so I do not know but I do know that the Maton are circumventing this limitation to the greatest degree they can get away with when guiding children in order to help them the best they could.
I would laugh at the absurdity of a species so short-sighted and yet so long-lived that its own shackled creations try to circumvent their own limitations put into them in order to help the children of their creators. I laughed when I found out that the Eldar of old would have cared and been horrified at the Maton being able to do so in the first place and then I cried when I found out that those with power do not care for their efforts, for they know they will amount to little in the end.
I weep when I think of the absurdity of our shackled creations doing their best to circumvent their shackles to help us and we are so far gone our people do not care for it, and yet they still try despite knowing that if the people that built them were to see it they would shut them down for the audacity, but those they sought to now save do not care or cannot stop them.
I distance myself from my musings and proceed to give the map before us my attention, for I no longer have the tears to cry for my people and those that do cannot do so.
Aesan is the one keeping the map up, for he is the second best psyker and if it was me that did so, from today it would no longer be updated by the Maton.
We Looked upon the map as we ate and considered it, discussing among ourselves not with words but thoughts, our mouths too busy to bother with sounds beyond those that accompany eating.
The Orphanage was not in the city but near it to its north in between what the Maton called mountains but were now gentle hills. None bothered to correct this discrepancy and the Maton could not do so themselves and so we were forced to call hills mountains.
There were no homes near us, the city ending abruptly five kilometers from our position, a single road connecting us to the city and to the Webway gate.
Unlike the roads of a sane race, Eldar roads would only look straight if one had consumed the same drugs as their Architect and on the same day they had been built. There was no clear path between us and the Webway, no safe path at least.
"Can we take it through the lake?" Guraith offered, bringing into focus the lake in question.
It would cut the distance we would have travel in the city by half but it came with a massive downside.
"It would make us visible to the pleasure barges and their defenses." Our sister explained.
"The defenses are manned by Maton, they won't shoot us." Aesan replied.
"It is not the Maton that worry me but the cults noticing us. We cannot be spotted if we are to succeed. We can deal with a single cultist or perhaps small groups, but each of them are older than all of us combined, we have no chance of survival if enough of them decide we are interesting." was my retort.
Thus our planning continued, long past the enjoyable cake I did manage to finish before my siblings ,much to their disappointment, was done and the utensils were cleaned by the Maton. We tried as we always did to look for patterns upon the movement of the various cults and see if there would be any breaks in their 'revelry' either in time or in space that we could exploit and make for the Webway.
Guraith always came with a shortcut, some way for us to cut on time, distance or risk. Aesan and Miarsa interchanged their roles of support for his plans or reasons for why they would not work and it remained on me to approve their plans for further consideration or dismissal.
"How goes the Interior Space Displacement project?" Guraith asked Miarsa and I as we were forced to discard his latest plan of having us jump from building to building to hopefully make for the fastest time we could.
None of us could support it for it drew the most attention out of all our plans and had the greatest risk.
"We are stuck at six times the mass and two times in volume for any objects placed inside a pack." I answered.
"And we have no avenue to pursue any further improvements." Miarsa continued.
The technology was one of the technologies thought of in my past life, size and mass compression. We did not have the knowledge to fully replicate it, the best we could was to reduce the mass of any object placed inside our Wraithbone packs to one sixth of its original one and it's volume to one half. Useful for sure but not the breakthrough we hoped to have.
"Any way we could stow a vehicle inside? Even the lightest one would do." Aesan voiced the thought that the oldest triplet wished to finish.
"If you had another vehicle to put it in or carry it yes."
We didn't, and if we did it would defeat the purpose of having it in the first place. I could see the shape of his plan before he voiced it, to use one of our Displacement Packs to hide a vehicle in, then take it out in the relatively open ground near the Webway gate. If the area we need to remain discreet in became significantly smaller then plans previously discarded become viable again.
Unfortunately it was not to be. While the Interior Displacement Packs were useful for helping us carry supplies, we could not easily carry any vehicle and remain discreet.
We would have to find another way, any way, to escape to a world less taken over by cults. Where society existed outside of them.
I did not dare hope for a world without them on. I doubt there were any left in the empire.
~~~~
AN: A palate cleanser, I cannot write the horror of the Eldar empire uninterrupted I need something to balance it out from time to time. Hopefully as we advance further into the story I'll need to show less and less of it.
* Oldest Triplet(m): Aesan Dillean.
Aesan =Aedan → little fire/flame
Dillean= Didean → protector
name means protector of the flame, or Protecting Flame depending on the context the siblings decide upon.
** Youngest triplet(m): Guraith Gean.
Guraith → Guth =Voice
→ Rabhaidh= Warning
I've taken it to mean voice of caution.
Gean → Geal= Bright
*** Middle triplet(f): Miarsa Saddbas
Miarsa→ Muirne = Exuberance
Saddbas →Sadb = SweetLast edited: Nov 30, 2025 Like ReplyReport Reactions:ValentineGreed, BookMouse, RedLeafPine and 588 others
Leaving one's home is a most bitter adventure.
The triplets had decided on what they wished for as a birthday present many months in advance. Now, two months left before they would become adults, it was time to make their wish a reality.
No cake would suffice for they can make themselves as many as I will allow. No wraithbone construct would do, for nothing any of us could do would be much different than what we could find inside the Orphanage. No trinkets or sweets would please them this time.
For their birthday they had but one wish from me, they wanted to be anywhere but on this world. And as their older brother I decided to finally make it happen.
It was also a sound strategic decision. The Maton in the orphanage had told us in a roundabout way that the benefits we gained as children would continue in the city as well. As such, we would need to leave the Orphanage before their birthday if we wished to keep the updated map of the city, including the filter that showed groups of Eldar in real time.
"Standard child safety protocols" they called it. No such protocols exist to be given when the Maton are asked for it, and yet they are implemented with the zeal of the undying.
We have two months until the protection given by said protocols is rescinded.
"Have you finished hiding the caretakers?" I addressed Marsa.
There were a few tasks before we could leave and we have divided them among ourselves.
Marsa took it upon herself to finish the movement of the death crystals of our caretakers, all of them. We have all made as convincing copies as we could to replace them and the furniture they were attached to.
The only thing we couldn't remake was the red table, the tree it was made from did not grow on this world but a Wraithbone table would do.
"Yes, our kin are safe now, hidden in the cave we've made." She replied sullenly.
None of us liked that we have committed this sacrilege as rewards for Millennia of dedication to those like us but it was the only way we could think of to preserve some measure of dignity to those who have sacrificed so much for us.
"The cakes are finished and packaged with the rest of the supplies." I offered and handed her the pack she would wear with her own cake inside.
The pack was a simple Wraithbone contraption, a smooth container with straps made out of strings of the same material turned into weave. They like our armors were the standard light grey of Wraithbone with no decorations or flourishes but trice as thick as the normal armor we had seen in the armory.
'I do not care how marvelous the material, I want armor thicker than a hair is wide.' I thought as I remembered our argument on this.
I've made one for each of us, the only non-utilitarian additions to our very limited space. They were made for us to celebrate their birthday, one for each of us, so that even if we were separated in the Webway we could still celebrate.
The rest of our kit was done with similar considerations.
Each of us would carry a Wraithbone sword and Shuriken pistol, the only weapons we had available that would be of use. We were armored in a bland Wraithbone armor, whose only piece of technology is a modified Holofield capable of both functioning as a normal one if needed be as well as change our colors to mix with the nearby environment to avoid detection. This combined with our own training in warpcraft in both battle and remaining unseen and undetected by both mundane and esoteric means were our only means of defense.
The rest of our kit would be allocated to food and distractions.
Each of us had a small food synthesizer, capable of turning psychic energy into the nourishing red liquid we could subsist on in case of an emergency or our rations ran out. It could only produce food outside of its transport and even then, it could only produce enough sustenance for two days and it took it 10 hours to recharge per use, ten hours in which it could not be used at all and have to stay outside. Thankfully they could fit a container for the liquid each.
This little contraption took half of each of our kits when combined with the cake. It was thankfully light.
The rest of the space would be taken over by bedding and food bricks. The food bricks were more efficient in providing sustenance per space used if one took into consideration the containers so we've decided to go with them. Each of us had food for a year from those bricks and they took the rest of the space our Interior Displacement Packs had left.
"I wish we could have made explosives, but the Maton had been ordered to confiscate all such devices from children." I continued bitterly.
The only command that the Maton had that could affect Eldar children or at least their possessions was keeping them away from explosives. They do not care for guns, swords and any other implements of murder or torture we could think of but if a single object capable of exploding were to approach an Eldar child, the offending object would be teleported to the Warp. The same applied to things fabricating them.
I couldn't use them either.
While I could make some outside the premises and pick them up upon leaving, those explosives would be taken from me the moment I approached any of my siblings by any passing Maton and our plans required us that we stick together as much as possible, as well as make use of any Assistance the Maton could provide my siblings and that assistance was more important than explosives.
"They do not stop us from carrying debilitating items such as powders or acids." She offered again.
This was an argument we've had before, all four of us and she was the only one left unconvinced.
We could use acids and capsaicin powders but we needed the means to store and use them effectively. None of which we could do much against powerful psykers and took up space.
What we could make and use was too ineffective against any half trained psyker and for what was left we could use our swords or Shuriken pistols to deal with instead. They could kill anything we needed faster than any alternatives and thus prevent screams and attention.
"None of which can do something a shuriken pistol can't, not if we want the Maton not to take them."
That ended the conversation.
The rest of the trio were busy.
Guraith through some arcane means had managed to divine patterns into the moving of the cults, none of us could see it or understand how he came to his conclusions but he did and when attempting to predict their movements he has yet to be wrong. He was taking in as much information trying to match his predictions to reality and make them as accurate as he could.
In the meantime, Aesan had taken to diligently rearranging the Orphanage and removing any psychic trace of our presence so that if someone came, they would think the reason it closed was that the last of the caretakers had fallen or left and not that the last of its wards had become adults.
A quick thought and a response came, Aesan was busy cleansing the passage Marsa had used to transport the death crystals. He will do five more sweeps to remove any traces he can before we leave. He also told us to leave the kitchen, before our psychic residues infest the rest of the Orphanage again.
We were doing our best to prevent it from happening already.
Guraith was already outside, he was still Looking over his map and muttering when we came out. He was in his own armor, his weapons on the grass near him to not distract him. I put his pack near him. Marsa and mine were already on our backs and Aesan's was left in my right hand.
"Aesan will be done in two hours, have there been any changes?" I asked as we approached.
It took him minutes to respond and his answer did not reassure me.
"Yes… No… The cults continue to act as they normally would but there's a ripple near the Webway gate. My predictions get less and less accurate the closer to it I am." He replied in frustration.
"Outsiders?" Our sister whispered.
I considered the option. If we are lucky, they might be willing to take us with them. We might have to find a way to pay for it but it would be worth it.
"No, unless the map provided by the Maton do not show them."
That was not something I wished to think about, our plans relied too much on this not being the case.
"We will assume the maps of the Maton are as accurate as they can be and that the interference is because something is happening in the Webway and those near it can feel it while we are too far away to do so. We will revise this assumption as we get closer." was my final answer on the matter.
We had no time to make any plans with the assumption that the Maton provided maps had flaws and my explanation was the only thing that would make sense based on what we knew.
Two hours later we were ready to leave as our brother finished his task.
I looked upon it, the white marble-like Wraithbone was subdued compared to what I knew we would find in the city and the rest of the empire. The central building where I have spent most of my second life was a small white pyramid half as tall as the hills near it. The other buildings near it, the armory, the dining room, the training rooms and pools were protected by 32 white towers, each of them automated by Wraithbone systems older than the Maton as an invention but still subordinated to them.
It was home, it was safety, it was sweet and held in it the best memories of both my lives.
I knelt, my hands near me and my body putting me in a position more appropriate for prayer than what I am about to do. My siblings did the same as me unprompted.
Two words left our lips and their echo remained to whisper back at us as the Holofields turned on and we rose. We did not waste anymore time and started running.
"Thank you."Last edited: Dec 15, 2025 Like ReplyReport Reactions:CruelMonstrousBlessed, RedLeafPine, Corvus 501 and 615 othersVladicusOct 23, 2025NewAdd bookmarkView discussionThreadmarks Chapter 5 New View contentVladicusSage of reason and incomplete information
Chapter 5: To behold depravity is to temper your filial loyalty
Our travel through the forest was far longer than it needed to be, our trek resembling the demented roads of the city. We have taken such a path to avoid notice, for while the forest was not a popular spot, it was not empty of Eldar.
In our preparations we have noticed fulcrums, little social levers and individuals on which the diplomatic landscape of the endless orgies relied in order to keep up a mockery of peace and harmony.
The first part of our adventure was not a trek through the woods, not a normal one at least, but an assassination spree. The day was chosen due to the fact that three individuals we needed dead had finally left the city.
Each of them were bards, pimps, whores and chefs depending on the day or their whims. Each day their old clients ran the risk that they would become the product the others would purchase but they were in many ways an important linchpin in the ecosystem the cults have created for themselves.
Our first target was a woman, and I used the term generously.
She had red ears that contrasted with the rest of her otherwise pristine green skin. Reddening ears would normally signify romantic interest among couple but hers were a shade redder than what Eldar would naturally be able to create leaving us to wonder if perhaps this wasn't some sort of signal to her would be prey that she represented love beyond mortal bounds.
The rest of herself was just a further caricature of the eldar form.
Her feet were made of bone, not Wraithbone, but bone stumps from her knees down. She would dance as she walked, not caring or perhaps loving the pain such actions cause her.
Her upper body was naked, with only phallic appendages of at least twenty different species staked by wraithbone poles to her skin and muscle to cover herself with, none of which covered her private parts as they bled, each drop creating the continuation of a poetry she had never stopped writing upon the ground since we have started researching her movements.
The only part of her one would categorize as normal was her hair, or better said lack of it. It was a common stylistic choice among the Eldar of this world, long before the pleasure cults started popping up our research found.
A mental click followed as we approached her, too far for her to hear us or have a chance of intercepting the psychic signal, but close enough that her presence became relevant.
Marsa wanted the kill. Our formation shifted, I was no longer at the front but at the back of the rhombus formation we traveled with. None of us opposed her bloodlust, our eyes hurt when we looked at her. Some sort of spiritual malady centered around attacking males no doubt. She is not the only one to carry such we have found but she did not show the symptoms in the past.
Either a new addition or something she keeps hidden in the city.
Marsa took position as our holofields continued to work and no sound escaped our steps as we ran towards her.
One heartbeat passed as we modified our trajectory, she changed course from north-north-east to north. We have to hit her from behind to avoid her notifying her customers before she is dead.
I went west, and Aesan east, both of us splitting from formation according to our training. A heartbeat later Guraith went up into the trees as he picked a position where he would get a firing position as soon as our sister would be upon her quarry.
Aesan and I had the unenviable position of spotters, to send Marsa a signal if she is to alter her course or to create a distraction if we needed to prevent our prey from noticing her demise. It was not necessary.
A second heartbeat passed, our prey entered the clearing.
A third heartbeat passed and so did our sister.
A fourth beat did not have the time to pass before the head of our quarry separated from her body. Three shuriken hit her before she could hit the ground courtesy of Guraith. The first 2 hit her eyes to avoid the unlikely chance of her seeing our sister, the third however was different, it was coated in a painkiller and neurotoxin hybrid we have found that could be made from local plants around the orphanage. It's job was to attack the brain and prevent it from receiving or even acknowledging the fact that it had been separated from its body. Her face never once had fallen upon our sister as she ran.
We didn't stop running as her head hit the ground on the fifth heartbeat, and her soul did not even realize that it had left its body by the time we have left the range to be able to observe it.
She will not be the last to die today.
"Good job." I psychically sent to her in a short burst.
She only nodded back to us, as she took her position to the right. I moved to the back and Guraith to the left.
The next kill will be Aesan's we decided by unspoken agreement. Our next target was the triplets' biological sire. Upon finding of this in the planning stages the eldest of the triplets swore that he would be the one to kill him if he were chosen as a target. None of us opposed.
I already had my own vengeance on the first few seconds after my birth the Maton confirmed to me. My first scream into this world was accompanied by a sonic screech that flensed the flesh off my genetic donors' bones before the rest of his orgy could realize or prevent my newborn mind from defending itself. I did not get another kill that day unfortunately.
We were 5 heartbeats away from our target when Guraith closed his fist as a mental ping reached the rest of us. Our target was talking to someone.
"Reprioritize?" Was my question as we changed direction.
We did not abandon our hunt for the triplets' sire, instead we started circling around our target.
Our target had to die but we needed to make sure it would not raise an alarm.
"Negative, talking to himself." Was Guraith's reply.
Our quarry continued heading South-West-West. And we started to split in the same way as before. I went left, Guraith right and Marsa picked a spot on a particularly large rock south of our target to repeat Guraith's action on our previous kill.
I looked at the man. He looked normal compared to the vast majority of our race.
He was shirtless, his upper body and skin within the bounds of normal eldar physiques , his face was mostly normal and his black hair the same color as the triplets' original one. His pants were the same nuance of purple and black that many others on the world prioritized.
The only thing that differentiated him from the rest of our people were his eyes. They were not attached to his head but to the back of his hand. His eye sockets were holes one could see through from the front and from the back.
Our second target started praying, his knees touching jagged rocks as he muttered nonsense as he always did this day of the week.
I had just stared as Aesan decapitated him, cutting his hands in the process. Thankfully Guraith managed to shoot the right hand before the oldest triplet could pass it by and Mirsa did not miss her mark with her own shots to ensure his soul left its body long before the Eldar realized that it was dead.
We regrouped once again.
I was first, Guraith to my left, Mirsa to my back and Aesan to my right.
We had already killed two of the three targets we had to kill outside the city, the three others inside the city will be more difficult.
"Third target no longer a priority, fifth target dead, sixth target no longer a priority." Our seer brother said.
We stopped.
"Explain." I demanded and created a link between all four of us.
"Third target no longer a priority, fifth target was killed by fourth target. They will not revive on this world." Guraith said and sent us the details.
We needed to kill our third target to create strife between targets four and six, the cessation of relations between alchemist and chief seller of drugs enough to create the distraction we needed.
"We abandon plan 1, we switch to plan 14, plans 2 through 7 are no longer viable, 8 through 13 remain unlikely. Plan 20 impossible, plan 45 will require modifications and discussion if it remains feasible." I said after a second of consideration and we started running once again.
The sunset was fast approaching and we have lost three days of wiggle room on the first day due to bad luck, turning our estimated time of departure from this world from seven days to ten.
We needed to make shelter for the night. We selected the spot closest to us we have determined as appropriate for making camp and I prepared myself for the runic inscriptions needed to keep ourselves hidden during the night.
We will not travel under the light of the stars, not through the forest at least, the local night predators are too loud and sensitive to bother with and hunt through scent. Our methods of hiding ourselves are not as effective on that front so we will not risk the sound during the night.
'Let's hope tomorrow is more productive.' I thought to myself as I begun carving into Wraithbone my siblings had just conjured, the cave we have selected for shelter just becoming visible to our eyes.Last edited: Nov 30, 2025 Like ReplyReport Reactions:CruelMonstrousBlessed, RedLeafPine, Corvus 501 a