A Prisoner in my own temple…..the lunacy of it! There’s nothing wrong with
me….. my opposition of course just say that’s my way of denial. They’re Divinators
like myself, infinitely more powerful. But apparently I have a chance out of this
The situation. I’m me, here, now, newly promoted officer within the Inquisition, and
I am under lock and key, with my superior staring down his nose in my direction,
next to him, a specially flown in ‘acquaintance’ of his, with ‘fire’ in his eyes, and no doubt in that lance he holds at his side.
You see I have a problem, and to my credit both abilities and success in my tasks
have staid a ‘quick’ solution to all this. Fortunately my accomplishments have
brought honour to the Temple, and my brothers are not so quick to execute one of
their own if they can help it. Psykers aren’t Guard. We don’t need a Commissar
constantly pointing a gun at our heads in case we turn tail at the first sign of being
overpowered. For the Lords of the Tempus Occularis, there is a different ideology.
We go into our missions with our fingers poised on the possibilities of outcome, and
we do the best for our comrades as we can, trying to find the paths to succeed for
the Emperor. This I grant you is not common in Divinators. Many seclude
themselves, away from others, seeking solace away from the outside, where the
many webs of what come may is too much of a burden to behold – but they
recognise it – for the recluses of the order, this is best. These individuals still
function, but tend to be private advisors on a one to one level with the senior
echelons of other careers, Battle Masters, Benemperus Tactica, and Overlords. Some
try to turn inwards, and focus their abilities on themselves, directing their predictions purely to their own involvement in any situation. This means they master outside
divinatory chatter to stop any impediment to their own character. There are of
course those that fail. These sorry brothers eventually go insane, some at the
beginning, others as their power grows beyond their comprehension. Taints of
forbidden sight, Corrupted Augurs, and worst of all, the Warp Prisms who are the
negative conduits for everything that channels through them, with sometimes such
immense abandon, they cause the deaths of hundreds of their own. All of it in the
blind hope that their actions cause their own destruction. Many of these end up in
Chaos’s vast maw, but once there, most do not survive beyond a few years, seen
rather as an unstable weapon for the damned to let loose amongst the righteous for
the largest of battle fields. Imagine seeing your own death, but allowing it to twist
you in such a way that you do everything you can to bring it about, no matter what
the method, no matter how vast…this is frightening. These individuals at full
strength, can leave a scar in the warp that can take years to heal, so intense is the
expulsion of their power. They cannot accept their fat – they bring it forward in the
form of an insane death wish rather than just accepting it for what it is…Well, it
makes sense to me…..
…We all go to the Emperor in the end….I know this…..but I will not go until I know
I’ve a story to tell him, with a good ending, with my duty done.
So why do I find myself surprised at the fate that awaits me….? ‘Didn’t you see
this coming ? ‘ I hear you ask. No, I’ve been careless, I have a wound, and it goes
deeper than just flesh. As my sun rises and falls there are visible black spots on
the surface, and they’ve reached a point to cause concern. Over the last decade or
so I have grown more accustomed to my abilities, taken confidence in Inquisitorial
function, but what I didn’t always notice, was that every time I used the phenomena,
a small piece of me was being consumed. It’s not that I wasn’t aware of this
happening, it’s just an acceptance, or maybe a denial, but your mind puts it to one
side, and you get on with the Task at hand. Clearly I’ve been in denial a little too
The last encounter left me broken…but I lived….duty still not done. Once again
Severas saved us from a situation almost bereft of hope. Those things came up out of the ground and slaughtered everything in sight. Somehow I survived a direct assault of this six limbed beast, and the gashes on the left hemisphere of my skull show how close I came. In this wounded state I attempted to help my comrades, I helped, but I brought forth a shadow that hit all of us. I shouldn’t have attempted it, but I couldn’t lie there and do nothing, I couldn’t watch and wait for them to join me…duty still not done.
I don’t remember a lot in the interim, the next thing I was aware of I was in a
medical bay. The first time I saw those gashes across my head, I knew there would
be questions. But, I needed to gain strength from them as well. A thought struck
me, maybe this needed to happen? And I don’t mean some lesson, that would in the
short term, teach me humility on a new level of understanding or any of that bullshit.
My instincts told me there would be repercussions.
There was another niggling feeling. The mission itself. My friends and I had once
again been put very much in harms way. This was starting to look deliberate; this
was starting to look like someone wanted us to die on a mission. If we were a threat,
a direct ‘make them disappear’ operation would be too obvious, possibly a last
desperate response, because if it could be done that easily, it would have already
happened. No, instead we keep almost dying against insurmountable odds. Not the
sort of jobs regularly issued to four investigators. There had also been the ‘garbled’
or ‘lost’ communication excuse. On the last two missions. I knew this couldn’t be
solved now, and certainly not quickly. But what needed to be done was for our
erstwhile antagonist to be wrong footed somehow. What would help us, is if they felt
they were being watched. That way they have to keep looking over their shoulder
as well as machinating against Cephras. So…..who could assist me in this….an
Inquisitorial Adept perhaps, who could start the ball rolling? Maybe by drawing up
the paper trail from Cephras to the communiqué destinations? The first one would
be a simple request, as if we were double checking something to increase accuracy
in our reports. That should appeal to their sense of procedure.
And so before I left for the Temple, a request was sent for assistance in pinpointing
the times when our communications were sent and received, just so the timelines of
the reports could be aligned.
I entered the antechamber of the Temple. My Lord, Primaris Zarkov, looked up from
his conversations with Remus Vlathorian and Vycar Sinidex, stared at me for not
more than four seconds, and said simply
‘Your shadow…is too long my friend’
His eyes glowed briefly, I blacked out there and then while collapsing to the floor.
The next thing I know is I’m in a chair, my head is caked in blood and ink, where fresh tattooing now adorned my scalp covering every inch of my recent wounds.
My Lord Zarkov explained that there were levels growing in me that needed to be curbed, and leaving my head wounds as they were, would not benefit me or the Order if left unchecked. But there was a chance for redemption. The tattoos were binding glyphs, to add protection to my mind, help fortify the skull,thus averting psykic overspill. They also added direction when it came to using my Divinatory nature, meaning that with increased experience I wouldn’t see them as just scars, but as part of me, three curved spears, running across my head. The beast that caused them wouldn’t be a source of fear, it would be the bearer of renewed focus! But in order to complete the ritual, metal inserts were needed for the spearheads, bindings that had to be crafted from a very rare ore, known as Omnisium. To show my worthiness, to tame my shadow, to move forward, I would
have to take The Endless Walk, a venture into the icy wastes to a ruined Chapel, once the site of a now forgotten pilgrimage, it lies half swallowed by a glacier. Rumour has it that an earthquake centuries ago brought up with it spires of the rock beneath, toppling the Chapel, but in the process housing fresh veins of Omnisium. If I reach the Chapel, and If I break the ore, then I can return to my brothers remade….then I can continue my story.