~ Every 100 Power Stones = Bonus Chapter! Your votes keep this climbing. Thanks!
No pursuit. A rare mont of quiet.
Kaelen rubbed his hands idly, curiosity snagged by what Horus had just said.
His gaze drifted to the Wolf Shepherd God's left hand.
A golden ring. Hard to miss.
"Is that... the Centaur Gold Ring the Emperor gave you?" Kaelen blurted out.
Horus wasn't surprised. This mortal knew a great many things, one more was hardly remarkable.
He extended his hand openly. "It is."
"When the Ullanor War ended and I was granted the title of Warmaster, he gave it to himself." Horus's eyes grew distant. "He said I was his archer. His Sagittarius. His Wolf Shepherd God."
At that, Horus smiled.
A perfectly normal smile. Utterly radiant.
Nothing like the drooling, vacant idiot Kaelen had seen in fanworks before he crossed over, that "Father loves , I love Father" daddy-obsessed caricature. Part of that was on certain writers, especially that Guy Haley, who had written Horus's pathological fixation into existence. Who knew if he was slipping in his own baggage.
Teacher Dan wrote it so much better. In his hands, Horus was a normal little sun who ward everyone around him. Or there was the confident, effortlessly charismatic, reliable boss under Dave Thorpe's pen.
But he was getting sidetracked.
For the real Horus sitting before him, that Centaur Gold Ring was power. It was glory. More than anything, it was a symbol of unreserved trust. He was proud to have earned it, and the weight of that expectation filled him with strength.
"Would you like to hear that story, Kaelen?" Horus's voice carried a rare trace of gentleness. "Those 30 years I spent alone with him. The sweetest, most peaceful days of my life. In those 30 years, his ideals and mine rged into one — inseparable..."
The Warmaster was ready to settle in for a long speech, to properly savor those glorious days.
The mont his hand ca up, Kaelen cut him off without rcy.
"Enough, enough, stop!" Kaelen waved both hands, his face a portrait of distaste. "I've sampled this 30-year tale of filial devotion more than enough. Please, take it away!"
"Oh, my friend, a little patience?" Horus said, helpless. "Back in the Legion, when I told these stories, my sons were always happy to listen."
"Obviously — those are your actual sons. I'm not." Kaelen rolled his eyes.
Horus burst out laughing.
Back in the Great Crusade, who would have dared interrupt the Warmaster mid-sentence?
But now, he found it genuinely amusing. Even he was surprised by it, when it ca to this mortal, his temper was remarkably good.
"Since you don't want to hear about my father, let's talk about my sons." Horus sat up cross-legged. "Didn't you ntion Sejanus, Torgaddon, and Loken earlier?"
"Now you're talking — I'm wide awake. Go on!"
In the dim underground facility, Primarch and mortal sat face to face. One spoke, one listened.
"To be honest, my love for my sons does carry so favoritism. There are far too many capable fighters in the Luna Wolves." Horus's tone carried the unmistakable pride of a father. "But on the whole, I cherish my Legion deeply, my sons, and especially my Council of Four Kings."
"Ezekiel is the strongest among them. The most resolute. The one most like . But Sejanus and the others have a different kind of strength. If Ezekiel is my Lupercal, my firstborn, then Sejanus is my Guilliman. Sedirae is my Dorn, and Torgaddon is my Ferrus. Oh, and Aximand, he looks very much like . In the Legion, they call him Little Horus."
Horus let out a hearty laugh, eyes full of mory.
"And Loken?" Kaelen fed him the line at just the right mont.
"Don't rush , I was getting to him." Horus's massive fra leaned forward, voice dropping, like a man sharing so incredible secret with an old friend.
"Of course, there's Loken. Since you know of him, you probably know his character. In many ways he's not much like , but he is my most beloved son. If anyone else asked, I'd deny it. I can't show favoritism. But since it's just the two of us: he is my Sanguinius."
When he spoke of Loken, the light that kindled in this demigod's eyes burned brighter than anything Kaelen had seen when he spoke of the Emperor.
Kaelen watched him quietly.
He didn't pick up the thread.
Right. Strip away the halos, Arch-Traitor, the Emperor's first-found son. The Horus before him was, in the end, a father who loved his children deeply.
"You know Sanguinius."
Horus said.
"Yeah."
Kaelen nodded.
Master of the Ninth Legion. Baal's gentle angel, warm on the outside, scheming underneath. A black-sesa tangyuan. Who wouldn't love him?
"And in your eyes, what is he like?"
Horus pressed, a flicker of curiosity in his gaze. Sanguinius was his closest brother, after all. He had even ntored him for a ti, before Sanguinius returned to the Ninth Legion.
"Warm on the outside, cold on the inside. And a bit of a scher."
Kaelen gave his verdict.
"Oh? Why's that?"
"Hard to put into words, it's just my personal read. But from Konrad Curze's perspective, the great angel being a scher is absolutely true."
"Curze? Oh, you an that brother of mine."
Horus nodded. He recalled that pale-faced brother who would occasionally say strange things. During the Great Crusade he hadn't paid him much attention, Fulgrim was the one who ntored him, and he'd heard the two got along well.
"Curze had psychic precognition, stronger and more accurate than Sanguinius's. He foresaw the rebellion long ago and tried to avert it, but eventually gave up and joined anyway."
Kaelen cleared his throat, watching Horus's face.
The Wolf Shepherd God gestured for him to continue.
"After that, he fought Lion El'Jonson on Thramas, got captured, brought aboard the flagship, then taken to Macragge."
"And then?"
The Wolf Shepherd God pressed.
"Later, Curze rode a drop pod down to Macragge himself and played hide-and-seek with the Lion and Guilliman. Sanguinius showed up too, and the three of them conveniently founded a Second Imperium."
"After they caught Curze, Sanguinius told him: since the prophecy says you'll die, I'll take you to Father, maybe he'll forgive you. Curze panicked. He saw the prophecy shifting and let himself hope. But the Angel said: Father might forgive you. I won't. Then he stuffed Curze into a stasis pod and exiled him into space."
Horus listened, then nodded with complete understanding.
That was Sanguinius's way, all right. Seemingly gentle. Ruthless and decisive underneath.
But there was a far more explosive word that had been buzzing in the Warmaster's head the entire ti.
"Wait, Kaelen." Horus furrowed his brow, his expression turning more serious than Kaelen had ever seen it. "Did you just say... Second Imperium? What exactly does that an?"
"Oh... that." Kaelen deliberately dragged out the syllables, leaning back in tactical retreat.
"After the Great Heresy broke out, the Warp storms completely cut off all signals from Terra. Everyone was guessing whether the Emperor was already dead and cold."
"To protect the fla of human civilization, Lord Roboute Guilliman overruled all objections, pulled in the Lion and Sanguinius, and set up a whole new shop."
Kaelen looked at the Warmaster and dropped the bomb, word by deliberate word:
"Sanguinius beca Emperor of the Second Imperium. Guilliman beca Regent. And as for the Lion..."
He paused.
"He beca Warmaster."
The words landed.
Kaelen watched a complex expression move across Horus's face.
But anger was nowhere in it.
➤ Next: Horus, But an Ogryn
Reviews
All reviews (0)