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Okay, seeing ThatOtherGuy's Darius fic, I decided to make my own, revolving around the Eleventh Primarch instead. The theme that this legion is based around should become more evident as you go on.

The Eleventh Legion

One​

It was almost noon on the planet of Mexicas IV, and everything was normal. ‘Too Normal,’ thought Merlin, as he walked. ‘They should have attacked me by now. I mean, the last time I came out here I got attacked back at Old Man’s Point. Now... where are they?’

Merlin sighed, looking about him in earnest, half wanting one of them to attack him. He could do with a challenge – he could do with something to prove that they hadn’t all gone. Maybe... they had migrated. They could have moved south into Caldaris’ territory. And that was the hopes and dreams of everyone in this small village.

He looked ahead and saw the beginning of a forest. He was surprised, he’d only ever come this far once in his life. And that was when... Merlin shuddered, not wanting to bring about old memories.

He was alone on this grassy landscape, and was, as far as he could tell, the only man that had actually reached The Forest before. It was known quite simply as Death Forest, for those that entered alive were never seen again.

Merlin all too well remembered the childhood tale of young Demarcius, the young boy who had ventured out into Death Forest, and had never come back.

There were said to be monsters. Ghosts, Spectres, that you couldn’t see before it was too late and they snatched you. Then you were dead, or worse. There were also legends of Vamps, fearsome species that patrolled the edge of the forest at night. Merlin was glad that it wasn’t night yet. It wasn’t even lunch.

And the worse monsters appeared on Doomsnight, the night where all hell broke loose in his village, and the night where if you didn’t hide yourself as best you could – then you were dead. Snatched by an unknown force. It was unknown because nobody but the dead had seen them. And that was only because on Doomsnight, you hid under your bed and tried not to move.

He was glad it was not Doomsnight yet. However, it was coming close, and if Merlin didn’t finish hunting in time then, not only would his family starve, but he’d die as a nameless victim of Doomsnight. He was forty, which meant he was lucky enough to surrive three Doomsnights. He was born two weeks after the fourth. Edging closer to Death Forest, he decided to brave the step and take a plunge.

Luckily, he had survived the first step into Death Forest. And the second, and the third. He made his way further in, keeping a watchful eye in the shadows and a hand gripped on his Rifle, and one hand near his sword stationed in his scabbard. It had cost him the price of three of his family’s pigs for that sword, and he swore on his life that he would take the uttermost care of it. It was named Excalibur, and there was never such a finer weapon. It’s previous owner had only sold it because he didn’t want to lose it when the King Came.

Legend said that when the King of Mexicas IV showed himself, he would take Excalibur, and the rubies in the sword would shine greater than any other known jewel. It would give the King untold power, and the authority to unite all four kingdoms on Mexicas IV. Caldaris’ Territory, Satham, Primus and the final territory, the one that Merlin resided in, Camelot. Legend says that eons ago, the first arrivals onto Mexicas IV via arcane travel of the sea of stars, settlers on Mexicas IV landed on Camelot, and named it so, after an old legend of their own time.

Merlin had been named after the old wizard in those times, and had been the constant teasing of other boys in the village when he was young. They often bullied him, and tried to get him to use magic to get him out of sticky situations.

But all times had failed. As the black haired man made his way through the trees, he was surprised. Nobody had attacked him. Then he remembered yet another legend. The easy part is getting into the forest. The hard part is getting out.

So these creatures, if the legends were real, were already behind him and waiting. Merlin dared a quick glance behind him. There was nothing there. ‘Phew,’ Merlin thought with a smile. ‘That’s a –‘ he paused and looked ahead of him. There was an opening in the forest. Maybe he had reached the other side after all!

But it was only a clearing, a clearing that was shaped like the craters of Ivedor. But there was something there. A small, small child. ‘No’, he thought. ‘Impossible.’

The child was human, that much was evident. He was well built for a baby, and boasted some handsome blonde hair. “How did you get here?” Merlin asked curiously, approaching the child, knowing it would not respond. He felt foolish for asking the question.

Suddenly, he knew. He knew that this child must be The King, the fabled appearance of one that would unite the lands of Mexicas IV, and rid them of the beasts of Dead Forest. That time had come. And that child’s name was...

“Arthur,” whispered Merlin, as befitting the legend’s tale. “You’re The King Arthur.”

And as if understanding his words, the child nodded, and pointed behind Merlin. Looking up at the stars, he could tell that it was nightfall, which meant that the creature behind them could only be one thing.

A Vamp, short for Vampire. Merlin turned, and held Excalibur, gripped firmly in both hands. He couldn’t give the baby the sword yet, he wouldn’t be able to hold it. The battle between man and Daemon had just begun.

"For Arthur," whispered Merlin, and charged forward to meet the Vampire head on.

Blocking the first onslaught from the Vampire, Merlin brought Excalibur up to his chest and lunged it forward. By no means was he a good fighter and this Vampire was fast. Faster than any of the men at the village. The Vampire seemed to use its arms instead of the sword, and a blow that would have killed any mortal man, or at least made him armless, had no impact on this monster.

Arthur was just standing there. Merlin looked at the baby for a brief second, and wondered if this was the child after all. Well, he was only a baby. Merlin brought Excalibur up once more to block and incoming swing, and was floored from the effort. The creature was strong, and fast.

“No,” whispered Merlin, as the Vampire tossed Excalibur aside, to the baby’s foot. He didn’t want to die in Death Forest, he never planned on it. But he knew he would die here, at the hands of this dammed Vampire.

Suddenly, lightning sparks shot out of Merlin’s outstretched hands, pulverizing the Vampire and reducing it to ash. He looked at his hand, awed. “What?” he breathed, and then spoke to the baby. “Come on my young friend, we’d better get you home.”

And with that, Merlin hoisted the baby onto his back, and carried Excalibur in one hand away from the dead Vampire, still awed by the lightning from his outstretched hand. Maybe... maybe he was a Magician after all. A wizard, a freak.

He would have to keep this secret. After all, only Arthur had seen it, and the baby would not remember. Suddenly, Merlin heard voices in the darkness, and knew he had to get home before the spectres came. And he had to bring Arthur with him.
 

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Bringing an old thread back from the dead with my necromatic powers of evil, are you going to continue or is this a dead project?
 

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I think you should continue it, i read the first few lines and i was hooked and i finished reading it and now i wan't too know what happens next. Your story is good, though i don't see how an eleventh primarch fits into this. ??? :)
 
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