Nareth beat his golden wings, surveying the battlefield.
The "Seers" of the Twelfth Chapter raised their arms, gripping the shorter of their two even-strand, black-gold divining rods, rotating them.
Guided by their spiritual divinations, they wove through the psychic mist, showing the way.
The Vessor-born Shadows of Order and the Vessorine Blanks themselves, serving as the spearhead, hunted down Magc'Sithraal's powerful psykers.
"Magicians," leading their "Clowns," moved swiftly to reinforce.
The Librarians, their purpose clear, used their "Eyes of Mystery Prying" to pinpoint Aeldari shrines, launching attacks to seize the spoils.
They collected psycho-conductive crystals containing records, and carried off force staves and weapons of war.
Shards of wraithbone, runestones, and psychically resonant materials, even intact crystals from the groves, were all gathered.
A flicker passed through Nareth's eyes. His obsidian gaze focused on a wraithbone tree within the crystal dome.
Six Warp Spiders, having heroically slipped Slaanesh's grasp to reform their physical bodies, appeared behind five Librarians.
The five Librarians, who had been discussing how to move the wraithbone tree intact, felt a shift.
Their "Eyes of Mystery Prying" turned in unison.
Clumps of monomolecular filaments shot towards them. One Librarian quickly raised his force staff.
The crystal blazed. A force barrier enveloped the five.
Crackle, crackle...
Amidst a series of pops, the barrier flickered.
Silently, a Warlock of the Warp Spider shrine materialized, raising his spindle rifle towards a Librarian.
The spindle rifle was more powerful, and rarer, than the web guns carried by Warp Spiders. Only Farseers, Autarchss, and Warlocks were permitted to wield them.
Tightly woven monomolecular filaments gnawed a hole in the barrier, seeking a Librarian.
Bang!
A clump of webbing slapped against golden wings.
Nareth's folded wings blocked the Warlock's killing strike. He spread them, the shockwave flinging the Warlock away with a bang.
Blue-white light flared. The Sword of Vaul tore through the Warlock's armor.
"Father!" the Shadows of Order exclaimed with emotion, then saw their gene-father soar into the air, flying into the distance.
Light and shadow flickered in the Primarch's eyes. He focused on William Wood, Chapter Master of the Twelfth, striding towards him.
Between the "Marionettist's" fingers, he held small paper effigies.
With each step, following his own command, he ignited one with his spirituality, disrupting divination, hiding them from the Aeldari Farseer.
Once the four effigies in one hand were burned, he quickly pulled fresh ones from a custom-made crystal box at his belt.
The Primarch extended his consciousness, confirming that the crystal dome and the Sisters of Silence were far behind them, and that no Blood Angels or Sisters were nearby. He spread his wings.
Bang!
Nareth's boots slammed down on the wraithbone, blocking the Aeldari Farseer's path.
The Farseer gripped her gleaming spear, her gaze cold as she stared at the shimmering blade in Nareth's right hand.
The Sword of Vaul.
For a hundred years, her soul had wandered the wraithbone network of Magc'Sithraal, merging with the entire craftworld.
The last time she had partially withdrawn, she had foreseen the fate-threads of Helioret.
She had given the order to destroy the mon-keigh colony system.
After briefly guiding the craftworld, her soul had once again immersed itself in the wraithbone network.
Until black and crimson had invaded her home.
She was the first of her kind to notice the black-armored mon-keigh, Nareth, wielding a blade forged by the Aeldari god of smiths, Vaul, before its edge had ever tasted Aeldari blood.
She had sent the Warlock Titan's wraith to retrieve the artifact. But the mon-keigh, Nareth, was too strong.
The mon-keigh Nareth had destroyed a Warlock Titan.
He strode through death and destruction, invading the crystal dome.
The fate-threads she saw foretold a grim future for the craftworld.
She decided to forego quiet slumber, to continue bearing the responsibility of leading her people.
She had plucked at Nareth's fate-threads. She knew it would not kill so powerful an enemy, but it would slow the mon-keigh.
She had not anticipated that Nareth would shake off the interference so quickly and pursue her.
The Aeldari Farseer, both hands on her spear, channeled energy through the wraithbone beneath her feet, which blazed with blinding light.
Intoning a low chant, she raised the spear high and hurled it with all her might at the black-armored mon-keigh, then turned nimbly.
Her legs had shed their crystallized rigidity. She could now run with an Aeldari's superhuman speed.
Suddenly, the Farseer felt her surroundings shift, as if several layers of thick glass had materialized.
She sensed a distinct sluggishness in her thoughts, as if her soul had sunk back into the wraithbone network, leaving her mind dazed.
The Farseer entered a state of inner stillness. Though she had not sought this state in a century, her long life had granted her great proficiency in this art, which she used to avoid losing herself on the Path of the Seer.
The runes of fate flickered before her eyes, revealing the presence of the black-armored mon-keigh who had just manipulated her.
Bang!
The clash of the Singing Spear and the Sword of Vaul detonated with a bang.
Whoosh!
The silver spear, inlaid with gleaming gems and carved with mystical runes, spun through the air.
The Farseer raised her hand, catching it.
Nareth's sword swept the gleaming spear aside.
He beat his wings, lifting into the air, staring at the spear that had reappeared in the Farseer's hand.
A Singing Spear.
Nareth knew the Singing Spear was a psychic weapon used by Aeldari Farseers and Warlocks, so named because of the low hum it emitted when in use.
Witchblades and the more powerful Singing Spears were force weapons of Aeldari make. The spiral matrix of psycho-conductive crystals embedded within them could channel and focus the wielder's power.
When thrown, they automatically returned to their wielder's hand.
'The witchblade and Singing Spear are somewhat similar to the Dionysian Spear, forged by the Emperor!'
'The difference is that the distance over which a Farseer or Warlock can control them is limited. Within that range, they function as both ranged and melee weapons.'
'The Dionysian Spear cannot be wielded so freely, but there is no risk of losing it.'
As the thought flashed through Nareth's mind, he beat his wings, slamming down before the Farseer, and swung his blade, intercepting the spear thrown at William.
William, forgoing all defense, trusted that the Black Emperor would block all attacks.
The "Marionettist" immersed himself entirely in the manipulation of "Spirit Body Threads."
Amidst a series of detonations, he plucked and pulled.
The Primarch, deflecting the Singing Spear for the third time, flickered.
Boom, boom, boom!
The clash in the psychic domain unleashed a storm of supernatural proportions, a shudder through the Warp.
The psychic storm swept across the rift torn open by the ongoing battle between the Warlord-class Ordo Sinister Psi-Titans and the Warlock Titan.
The colorful vortex twisted and churned.
Within the Empyrean, Slaanesh, feasting, shrieked in dissatisfaction, watching the thick veil slowly descend.
The Aeldari Farseer, catching the Singing Spear, stumbled. Blood seeped from the corners of her eyes. She stared in shock at the mon-keigh, Nareth.
For the first time since walking the Path of the Seer, she had lost a psychic duel.
The Farseer began to intone a low chant, but found her voice weak. Her movements, as she raised the spear, slowed.
As her inner stillness was shattered by Nareth, the "Marionettist," William, gained initial control over her.
He constantly tightened the "Spirit Body Threads," careful lest she break free.
The Farseer felt the shadow of She Who Thirsts, the Great Enemy, recede. She held her spear in her left hand, raising her right arm.
The "Mentor of Disorder," Nareth, raised his arm, pushing his hand forward, and shouted in the Dunnic: "This place is forbidden to psychic powers!"
The unnatural, pale light that had been gathering dissipated.
The Farseer waved her arm repeatedly, only to discover, in horror, that she could not pluck the fate-threads nor control the Terrifying Storm.
She gave up, holding the Singing Spear in both hands, and lunged at the mon-keigh, Nareth.
The spear trailed blurred afterimages before her eyes.
'Not... good!' Her body trembled. Her thoughts were sluggish.
Her thrusting spear suddenly stopped. She lowered her weapon and bowed elegantly.
Nareth watched the Farseer walk to stand beside the "Marionettist," William, and nodded, satisfied.
'William's first marionette puppet is an Aeldari Farseer, the most powerful on Magc'Sithraal.'
'He is the greatest victor of this war!'
Though the distance over which William could control his Farseer puppet was limited, and she could not be openly displayed before the Imperium, in appropriate settings, she would be an immensely powerful Farseer marionette.
The Imperium would never trust a dangerous xenos, much less believe that a powerful Aeldari Farseer had become William's puppet.
That was why Nareth had ensured no Sisters of Silence were nearby.
The Aeldari Farseer was extraordinarily powerful. The Primarch, in their psychic clash, had only barely emerged victorious.
Before his digestion of the "Mentor of Disorder" potion, which had triggered a qualitative change in his psychic power and mental fortitude, he had not been certain of victory.
Even the powerful wraiths Adams had secured from the underworld of Sodheim VIII were no match for this Farseer.
At Sequence 5, unless the "Shepherd," Ramsey, could 'herd' several powerful beyonder beings, or Pell Koscheny, after advancing to "Mentor of Disorder," could assemble a formidable Legion of wraiths, no one could surpass William in raw power.
"My Lord, I thank You for this gift," William said, grateful. He knew that, on his own, he could never have made the Farseer his puppet.
....
If you enjoy the story, my p@treon is 30 chapters ahead.
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