Solid steps impact an old wooden floor. Green eyes scan across old bookshelves. A brass hands glides over a mahogany bench. A Necron steps into the library of an old friend, though he doesn’t know it.
Akhenaten was drinking her wine in silence as she read a book, just as she did whenever she felt the stresses of being a chapter master were too much. This was her own special place where no one could botter her. Sure, the Perpetual loved Achilles but both needed spaces in which they could exist separate from each other; and this was hers. Achilles had the forge.
Wine this time was hippocras, an old recipe that a friend gave her a few years ago. Apparently it dated back to Old Terra, yet original sources on it were as hard to find as a needle in a haystack.
This time’s book was a tome of daemonology regarding the servants of the minor chaos gods that were worshipped in the Alphecca system. Akhenaten was well acquainted with the creatures of Hircine, after all she was follower of the Father of Manbeasts, but she found her knowledge on the other ones to be spotty in certain places hence the book.
She had just finished a chapter on Ülmo when the faint sound of steps and the scent of metal alerted her to the presence of a stranger. The chapter master set the book on the table and rose to her feet. “Whoever you are show yourself. You are trespassing on hallowed ground.”