Arnam Trask. Arnam bloody Trask. Contained in my Spiritstone and disconnected from the universe around me, the only face I could remember was that of the Deathwatch Sergeant. Honourless scum. Arrogant scion of a dead Emperor. Though my body decayed on the forest floor where I fell, I could feel the Power Sword burst through my chest and out of my back like it was happening now. Time passed. How much or little time was impossible to tell as my confinement within the Spiritstone didn't allow for outside stimuli. I don't know how long I lay waiting, but it was long enough that the edges of my memories began to fray and mottle like an ancient painting and it was all at once I made the most heartbreaking realisation of my life. My lover, Sahritha. And I simply cannot remember her face. No matter how furiously I tried to recall, ultimately her face would become that of Arnam Trask's tattoo'd form before driving the sword home once more. My grief was infinite and as my body melded into the surrounding nature, time itself slowly meant less and less as I fell into the deepest darkness.
Then my saviour came, a wanderer plucked my Spiritstone from the shell of my armour like a child would steal an apple from an orchard. For the first time in what felt like forever I could feel the presence of another Aeldari soul nearby as though he were a lighthouse in an infinite ocean. Like a thief in the night he went from planet to planet collecting the souls of his fallen kin and when his packs were filled with the most macabre of loot he began the long road home. Even as I began the lonely trip with my rescuer my mind orbited around thoughts of Trask and the Deathwatch. He was out there, somewhere in the stars and he will answer for his crimes against my people. The bastard Astartes will suffer for what he did, I swear it to the Bloody Handed God he will suffer.
More time passed and the sensations of travel were totally lost to me. Not the wind in my air, rain on my skin or the fresh air in my lungs, these were robbed from me and I yearned for the feeling once more. An empty void of sensory nothingness was my reality, barring the ghostly presence of my rescuer that resembled a silhouette. It reminded me of my childhood, falling asleep and being carried in my Fathers arms, the feeling of movement and noise quietly intruding through peaceful rest. He's been dead for years, as has most of my family. It broke my heart that I couldn't remember their faces anymore. The sadness and guilt was such that I might have been washed away like a stone in the tide...But suddenly there was more, more voices and shapes. Dozens. Hundreds. They glided like faceless wraiths through the avenues and streets until I realized. I was home.
Returning to Ulthwé at last, my savior handed mine and others stones to a new figure. He was not a ghost like the others, not a dim lighthouse in an infinite ocean- he was a bonfire. I'd heard of these types before. Spiritseers. Those that handle and manage the dead within the Infinity Circuit. Sure enough, we walked the lonely paths into the sacred core of the Craftworld.
"Fear not, friends. You will soon be among the ancestors again." he spoke. For the first time in un-numbered years, I heard a voice clear as crystal. He was quiet, soft spoken like he was trying not to wake someone. It was comforting. The winding paths took us into the heart of Ulthwé , where the crystalline core of the Craftworld thrummed with psychic power. Indeed, every step the Seer took brought more and more voices into focus, as though we were outside a theater and could discern muffled voices before opening the doors and entering. One by one, he placed our stones in receptacles that connected us to the Infinity Circuit. I was the last to be moved, and the journey from cold separation to the warmth of his hands to the sudden vibrancy of the Infinity Circuit was utterly overwhelming. Every generation of Ulthwéan that could be saved was here, thousands upon thousands of ghosts like myself suspended in a new afterlife. The noise of chatter and muted joy was intense, as though I had entered a party in full swing while painfully sober. It was all so much, from my lonely silence to this. Death, to nothingness, to every ghost I had ever followed in the footsteps of was a dizzying ascension. I sought out some quiet, to my surprise all I had to do was think and I was there. I had hands again, fingers and hair. In fact, my form was just as I remembered before my life was taken by Trask. Arnam Trask. My killer. Without intention, my fists clenched and jaw tightened and I couldn't stop the tension in my body physically manifesting like a spring ready to snap. Then I heard a voice.
"Are you overwhelmed? Many are upon entering here for the first time. It's okay, you're safe now." It was the Spiritseer again. "My name is Eldrin Shadewalker, a Ranger called Rishaeron brought you home. Welcome, brother. What is your name?"
"Aevytal." I took a breath and tried to calm myself. "This is...a lot." I said, waving my arms inarticulately at my surroundings, only now noticing my hands were shaking.
"It's okay, Aevytal. Tell me, what happened to you? What do you remember?"
"Deathwatch. They ambushed my Wave Serpent and slaughtered my comrades on Isha's Grove. An honourless Sergeant killed me after killing the Exarch." I shamed myself at the thought. Reliving the final, humiliating moments of my life. Deep in my core I could feel Trask's sword burst through my gut once again. Unbidden, my hand checked for blood from a wound that no longer existed since my bodily form now nourished the forests of Isha's Grove.
"Oh, I'm sorry." The Spiritseer said quietly, his pale face twisted with an anguish that set a pit in my stomach. "Isha'Verdane'inais. Yes, a dark day. Have you heard anything about what happened?"
I shook my head. Eldrin indicated I should sit with a robed wave and so I did, the rising anxiety tickling the back of my throat.
"A very dark day I'm afraid, yours was not the only transport targeted by Deathwatch that day. There were no survivors at all, a hundred Craftworlders and the entire colony of Exodites were eradicated that day. It was a tragedy no one foresaw and one that was mourned hard by the citizens of the Craftworld" The Spiritseer leaned forward in his chair and couldn't help fidgeting with his bejeweled fingers.
"A new colony of the Imperium lies in the place of our cousins, which is partly why it took so long for your soul to be retrieved safely."
"How long?" I stammered, the cold sting of anxiety stroking the back of my neck. "How long was I waiting in the dirt before someone was brave enough to crawl through an Imperial world like a Warp-damned thief?" My anger was uncontainable, already I had risen to my feet and clenched my fists. It was the tantrum of a scared child, I knew but one that had been bubbling for years of solitude. I hadn't felt this way since I first stepped on the Path of the Warrior, emotions clouding my judgment without control or will. Already I was dreading the answer.
"The slaughter that took place on Isha's Grove was close to a generation ago, Aevytal. Once the planet was colonised there would be no return without further tragic losses, we couldn't risk the same mistakes happening again. I'm sorry." the Spiritseer spoke softly.
Generations...Hundreds, maybe thousands of years. What of my love? My family? Ulthwé and the galaxy moved on without me while my corpse rotted in the muck, in painful contradiction to my wish for a good death. All because of Trask. The sword that cut my life from me had shattered the reality I used to know, and it was all the fault of Arnam Trask. I felt sick, betrayed, abandoned and more than anything else fury. The blood I felt in my astral veins burned with the need to kill, to maim, to repay the suffering I had endured onto the ignorant galaxy. The Spiritseer rose from his seat, his gaunt face grimacing with concern, before putting an end to my anger with a wave of the hand that returned me to my Spiritstone, alone in the dark once more.
#1-10
If you want more info on any of these characters, I can only tell you the basics and such. The rest will be found out on the story blog @atsumehigh-cyoa
Going out on the town 🌃 @neochopstix thank you for being my #photographer 💚 #ootd #newmenewlife #androgynous #androgynousfashion #model #photography #saturdaynight #happytobeme #modeling #arcticfoxhaircolor #whitepants #spiritstone #letsummerbegin
