Tears of Gold
This is just something I wrote yesterday for a comp on another forum, which has to focus on the Rainbow Warriors in some way of form. These are not the epic ones of The_Unchanged, nor do I wish to undermine such brilliance. Onto the story now, c&c is more than welcome, if not needed!
Captain Ventranian paced back and forth across the marbled atrium, shades of purple and orange casting down onto his unarmoured form. The atrium was no place for war, and thus he did not burden himself with any such instruments. In their stead he bore a simple cream toga filtered with crimson edgings, weaved indirectly by some long dead Serf. Both of his scarred hands were clasped behind his back, fingers locked together in a tight embrace.
Ventranian was a man of war. He lived for it, he even longed for it. When not in battle he could usually be found honing his skills, playing mock battles with his Company, the so called Tenacious Third. Not a mocking name however. It was fully indulged by those Marines under the multicoloured hued banner of Ventranian, each one a veteran of countless campaigns. A tapping sounded, melodic and loud, and Ventranian found his vision gazing from pillar to pillar.
From the shadows, Lord-Librarian Malthien marched. His roasted features were pursed and forever-judging, his regal eyes half closed. Malthien was famed in the history of the Rainbow Warriors; having been the first Psyker not inducted from Prism. Instead he had been saved from a burning world at the last moment by his tutor and liege, Balthazar. Now he was dead, killed by a Tyranicus Ophidius-Subterra on some far flung world.
‘Why do you call me here, Warp-dabbler?’ growled Ventranian, his lips curled in disgust.
The Third-Captain did not bother in hiding his opinions on Psykers and his hatred was renowned throughout the Chapter. While many did not condone such feelings only the blind realised that he was true. At Nikaea all sorceries had been outlawed, but the Codex of Guillimun had brought them back into the fold and since then the majority of Chapters kept Psykers within their ranks.
‘I have not called you here for a particular reason Ventranian, but rather one of many’ the retort was loud, and the tang of crackling ozone became thick in the nostrils of Ventranian.
Malthien completely dwarfed Ventranian in stature. He was a giant of a man even without his armour, with well worked muscles and long limbs that looked strange adjoined to such a compact torso. His neck was akin to a miniature trunk, and veins bulged there as the jaw of the Lord-Librarian clenched. Unlike the cream and crimson which Ventranian wore, Malthien still kept the colours of the Librarius upon his body.
The tail of his cerulean cloak pooled out across the white and black speckled floor, the gold tails of which looked almost bug like in their interlocking twists and turns. When traveling through the halls of the Verdant Chalice, the globular fortress of the Rainbow Warriors, set deep within a manmade crevasse of busy manufactures which belched sickly look fumes across Prism, it would have been carried by an array of Serfs. No Serfs were permitted with the Atrium of Memory however, and a pair of twin Terminators stood ever vigilant at the platinum doors.
‘Then bastardized son do you wish for me to come here, in our great memorial? What possibly could you attain here than you could with our Brothers within the training halls?’ again Ventranian’s voice was reminiscent of a thousand nails across a blackboard.
‘Do not call me by that foolery title Brother Ventranian, I wish to have no conflict with you this day’ the reply came quick from the mouth of Malthien, who’s visage was now softening but yet unsurprisingly still judging.
Those few who knew Malthien’s true colours understood his complex use of words and why he was so judging. Those such as Ventranian, ignoramuses and tykes did not.
‘I will call you what I wish, Malthien. You have no power over me here and neither will I allow you such gifts. You are my lesser. A low born cur who has suckled on the tales of the Rainbow Warriors for far too long. Please do tell me, when was the last time you ventured from the Chalice? The Nanthema Pacification? Before even?’
‘Your tomfoolery will not get the better of me, Brother. It is not of your business to know what I indulge myself in when I am alone, nor will I allow you the pleasure of knowing such things. Your demeaning tongue shall be cut from your squirming form if you continue such slandering tomes.’ for the first time in the three hundred or so years the pair had known each other, only now Malthien truly sounded threatening.
‘Ha-’ was all that Ventranian managed to get from his mouth when the marbled floor beneath their feet began to clank and twist, lifting into the air and separating until both Marines stood upon opposite halves.
A growing and pulsating green wave of light flickered upwards, coiling into strands like aromatic smoke. Nostrils flared on both the Astartes’ faces as they each took a great whiff. A buzzing sounded, like a vast horde of locusts battering their wings as one, and slowly the green light dissipated into nothingness. A amniotic like ball of fluctuating white-silver came into view first and Ventranian found his fists bunching at his sides until the gentle patter of blood sounded beneath him.
Arms raised up towards either side of him, fingers curved inwards towards the palm, Malthien intoned ‘Captain Titus Ventranian I present you with the Golden Tears’ at that, the artifact came into view almost as if it had been waiting for him to finish his words.
Oval shaped, each of the seven items had a aura of gold-orange radiating from them and Ventranian found himself completely enveloped. Jaw held half open, Ventranian attempted to reach out but it was swatted by a blast from the shimmering protective field like a mother slaps the hand of her child.
‘Do not touch it Ventranian’ growled Malthien warningly ‘This is of the Warp, found during the Nanthema Pacification. Lord Leopard believes it is the key to the rebirthing of Roboute Guillimun. I have studied it for nearly a decade now, Ventranian. I too believe that it is the opening of a new grandeur. If the Ultramarines allow us study of the Holy Primarch, I believe we may be able to gain a great following. The Emperor could be healed! Healed Brother, reborn from his Golden Throne!’
Ventranian returned the gaze, between them lay the still twisting Golden Tears ‘You are a fool! You have befallen the curses of the Eye! Madman!’
A smile cracked the visage of Malthien, his eyes twinkling with renewed energy. His right hand was lifted, the fingers outstretched and angled towards the chest of Ventranian. Eldritch electricity danced along them and Malthien snarled ‘You have chose the wrong path Titus! I should have known you would never accept a new rule. This is the dawn of a new age. A age of prosperity for all of Mankind!’
With that arching spears of purple and black energy slipped forth towards Ventranian, who’s face was curled in pure horror. They struck him hard in the chest, each carving a bloody lacuna in his flesh. Arterial gushes splattered across the floor and Ventranian stumbled, his soul being devoured within. Eyes wide he tumbled into the energy field of the Golden Tears and simply ceased to be.
Lord-Librarian Malthien grinned. Ventranian was the primary rival of the Librarius. Now that he was gone, the path to the ruling of the Chapter was open….
Nyctophobia- Fear of the Dark Angel.
"No one ever spoke about of those two absent brothers. Their separate tragedies had seemed like aberrations. Had they, in fact, been warnings that no one had heeded?"
'Killing a man is like fucking, boy, only instead of giving life you take it. You experience the ecstasy of penetration as your warhead enters the enemy's belly and the shaft follows. You see the whites of his eyes roll inside the sockets of his helmet. You feel his knees give way beneath him and the weight of his faltering flesh draw down the point of your spear. Are you picturing this?'
'Is your dick hard yet?'
''What? You've got your spear in a man's guts and your dog isn't stiff? What are you, a woman?'