The Divine Rite: A Warhammer 40,000 Fanfiction

Part 5

Many would point to Chaos and declare it evil. They would claim that it sacrifices innocents upon the altar of power.

And I would say to them, that they are right.

In a galaxy where Orks rampage out of control, destroying worlds and systems for sheer entertainment, power holds them at bay. In a time when the Tyranids devour whole sectors, sweeping them clean of life, power sustains us. When the Necrons wake, when the Eldar raid, when the Tau encroach, it is always power that leads to survival.

This harsh fact is one we know well. Power is a necessity. But when a sacrifice is led to the altar of power, they are universally either enemy, or willing. The Imperium cannot boast as much. The Astra Militarum draws from the citizens, the Navy presses them into service, and they destroy all who would oppose their quest for strength. They are desperate for it, more so than any other force in the galaxy, and it matters not who perishes on the altar of Imperial Might.

But let me tell you a secret.

The Imperium will crumble, as every empire before it did. It is merely a matter of time. And when the Emperor dies and the Astronomicon goes dark, humanity will wail as the darkness devours it.

Chaos cannot die. Chaos is eternal. The Dark Gods are eternal. And whether you toil in their names, or sacrifice yourself upon their altars, or take up arms in their defense, through Chaos you too shall be immortal. Chained to the Imperium, you will die a slave, and death will be no respite. Free yourself through Chaos, and you shall not just be free for the rest of your life.

You shall be free, forever.

*****

It was many days before anything else of note changed. That isn’t to say that nothing of note happened, just that the strange moments of otherworldly sights and whispers became frequent and common enough to seem normal. Wrath continued to kindle more frequently, more easily, in my chest. Kinship urged me to share my secret, to bring in those I could trust, but my fear kept such considerations distant. Treachery whispered that none could be trusted, that all would betray me, and my fear rose to near frequent terror and paranoia.

This became my every day, my normal, and though I grew accustomed to it, such unfaltering anxiety took a toll on my body.

I became skittish, any mildly startling event causing my heart to race, my adrenaline to surge. Every moment of mild excitement, which had become frequent, or slight irritation, sparked rage like I had never felt before. A rage I could barely contain, and only out of fear of drawing attention to myself.

Strangely, I found Lasciviousness to be a comfort, for she spoke only when Marcus was near, and then she would refuse to cease.

When we crossed paths in the village, she would whisper delightful fantasies in my mind, such that I found actually greeting him nigh impossible, my cheeks and thoughts burning. When he sat across from me during the village gatherings, my eyes would wander from him only when he turned to regard me, drinking the sight of him in greedily. And each night when I bathed, each night he would be there waiting for me, and each night I was more and more tempted to ask him to join me.

Each time he plied me with romantic notions, chivalrous words, and I was in no fit state to resist them.

Even had I wanted to.

His interest, physical and otherwise, had always been his own, so I believed nothing to be amiss with anyone other than myself for that first week. After that, it became clear to me that my troubles were not merely my own, and would continue to draw in others. The trouble presented itself when a mutual friend approached me to speak of her own concern.

“So… is Marcus really courting you? The way men used to?” my dear friend, Maria, asked me. I merely nodded my reply, though my cheeks were flushed, Lasciviousness stirring in my breast. She grinned. “I knew it! He’s been obsessing over that tusk for days now. Every spare moment is spent carving it, critiquing it, or asking others for their opinions.” Maria eyed her sidelong. “He must really be infatuated. Poor guy isn’t satisfied with his work, no matter how it is praised. Keeps saying that ‘nothing less than utter perfection can be expected from one of his skill.’”

Katherine froze at the words, the phrase a near exact echo of what she’d teasingly spoken to Marcus a week before. “He says those words?” she asked, forcing her panic down with monumental effort. She’d been afraid the visions indicated awakening powers within her, but hadn’t believed they were manifesting yet.

It seemed that they were.

Maria nodded, not seeming to notice the rising tide of dread in her friend. “Every time someone assures him that the work is spectacular. You should see it. The carving is an incredible likeness… if a bit intimate in nature.”

“Intimate in nature?” Katherine whispered, Lasciviousness giggling hysterically.

“Well… he seems to admire your body a great deal, and goes to lengths to highlight the advantages of physical form that you possess.” Maria replied with an uncomfortable cough. “One might say he exaggerates a bit, though I admit I haven’t scrutinized your bare form to the degree he seems to have.”

Katherine’s concern grew, and her cheeks burned with the heat of the sun. He had carved something so sensual with her as the subject matter? And he showed it to others for their opinions? Wrath clenched around her lungs, breath coming in gasps, but she slowly tried to release it. “I look forward to setting eyes on it myself, then, if he has done such a thorough job.”

Their conversation continued for several minutes, but Katherine was paying scant attention to Maria now. She knew enough to nod at appropriate times, or reply with minimal effort, but her mind was elsewhere.

Wrath still gripped her tight, though her own whispering reason was keeping it at bay. She’d done something to Marcus when she spoke to him. There was no other explanation for his frenzy, his obsession, his echoing of her own words. Kinship assured her that Maria would not mislead her, something Katherine was already certain of. Treachery feared that obsession, shrieking that Marcus spied upon her to get such details, for while she had been nearly naked in front of him before, he’d never studied her with such intentness. She shuddered at the thought, determined to find a way to undo this.

And yet Lasciviousness positively purred, licking her lips at the delightful thought of those careful, skilled hands working on more than just an image of Katherine’s body. Katherine had no desire to be worshiped in such a way, especially not by one whose will was not their own. Yet she could not deny certain parts of her stirred at the thought, warmth coursing through her, and keeping her mind from dreams of ecstasy was a chore for the rest of the day.

I did not know it then, but was told later. This was the moment that Shiss noticed me, when my emotions broiled into the Empyrian, a beacon of lust and desire. It was a call no servant of the Dark Prince could ignore, or miss, and Shiss honed in on it with greedy excitement. She’d waited for eons for a moment such as this, for a person such as me, and fortunately for us both, her time had finally come.

As had mine.