Colchis - 831.M30
You approached, sensing the weight of the moment, the invisible battle being waged within Lorgar's heart.
"None of us are the people we almost were, Son," you began, your voice gentle yet firm. "A person is the sum of the decisions they made, not of the temptations they faced or the paths they might have walked. To claim otherwise would be to heap blame for sins uncounted upon every single mortal soul simply because they have considered them."
Lorgar's eyes met yours, filled with a mix of pain and confusion. He was a young man caught between the innocence of his youth and the dark allure of his potential future. You could feel the presence of the older Daemon Lorgar looming beside you, his influence a dark whisper in the back of the younger Lorgar's mind.
Corax stepped besides you, his voice a calm, steadying force. "Listen to him, young one. He speaks the truth. We all face temptations and dark paths. What matters is the choices we make, the roads we decide to walk."
You knelt beside the younger Lorgar, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I know you, Lorgar. You would not do that to others, so why then do you do it to yourself? Be kind to yourself, my son."
The young Primarch's eyes softened, but the conflict within him was still palpable. "But how can I forget the darkness I've seen, the temptations I've faced? How can I ever truly be free of them?"
From the shadows, the voice of the older Daemon Lorgar echoed out. "You cannot escape your nature, young one. Embrace it, and you will find your truth. Reject it, and you will be forever weak, forever tormented by what could have been."
Corax's eyes narrowed, his gaze piercing through the darkness towards the source of the malevolent voice. "Ignore him, young one. He is a specter of what you could become, not what you must be. You have the strength to forge your own path, to be better than the darkness that tempts you."
"I am naught but a testament to your weakness," Daemon Lorgar said sadly. "My faith blinded me. I worshiped a false god. Look where it led me."
"Enough," you said, your voice like a blade. "We are not here to tear each other apart."
"But we are," Daemon Lorgar said sadly before turning back to the younger Lorgar. "Young one we were always the weakest of us brothers. Your will Legion crumbled, your beliefs will be shattered, the Emperor will forsake you."
"You will be the weakest, Lorgar," Daemon Lorgar said with his eyes closed, his voice a venomous whisper filled with self hate. "The runt of the litter, overshadowed by your brothers. Angron with his brute strength, Magnus with his unmatched sorcery, Horus with his peerless charisma. And you? You will always seek, always yearning, never truly finding your place. Never belonging"
The younger Lorgar's face tightened with pain and frustration. "I... I know. I always felt it. The desire to belong, for equals…...."
Before Daemon Lorgar could respond, Corax interjected. "Lorgar, don't listen to him. He twists the truth to suit his own ends."
The younger Lorgar looked up at Corax, desperation in his eyes. "But what if he's right, Corax? What if compared to our brothers, I'm... I'm nothing."
Corax shook his head, his voice steady. "That's where you're wrong, Lorgar. Power isn't just about physical strength or raw might. True power comes from within, from understanding yourself and your purpose."
Daemon Lorgar sneered, his voice dripping with scorn. "Spare him your platitudes, Corax. We all know the truth."
Corax ignored the taunt, focusing on the younger Lorgar. "You have a gift, Lorgar. A gift for inspiring others, for bringing people together. You see the potential in faith, in belief. That is a power few understand, and even fewer can wield."
Lorgar's eyes widened slightly, a flicker of hope igniting within him. "But... how is that power? How can that compare to the might of our brothers?"
You step forward, injecting yourself into the conversation, meet Lorgar's gaze directly. "Because it touches something deeper. It reaches into the hearts and minds of people, binds them together, gives them purpose. You have the power to unite, to inspire. That is not a weakness, Lorgar. That is strength of the highest order."
Daemon Lorgar's eyes blazed with anger. "You speak of unity and inspiration, but what has it brought Lorgar? Rejection, failure and alienation from the very people who took him in."
"Do not think I have forgotten you, Fan Morgal." Daemon Primarch spits out as he approaches you. "I remember all too well the fearful glances and whispers that followed me while I lived with your tribe. I remember how you feared my presence as I played with your children, how your wife never trusted me with the children. How the tribe saw nothing but a frightening witch child that grew unnaturally fast. Did the tribe fight for me when I chose to leave? Did they protest? Did not one person ask for me to stay?"
You did not reply, could not reply. For you had noticed some of that with your own son. You had tried to shield him from such prosecution but……..
"Young one, the truth is that you need power to command respect, to enforce your will. Without power, nothing lasting can be built." Daemon Lorgar continued, addressing the younger Lorgar.
"Respect born of fear is fleeting. True respect, true power, comes from being a beacon of hope, a symbol of what people can achieve together. That is something you possess, Lorgar, in abundance." Corax countered.
The younger Lorgar's mind swirled with conflicting thoughts. The lure of power, the desire to prove himself, clashed with the hope and belief in a different kind of strength.
"You are not weak, nor are you the weakest, young one," Corax continued. "You are much more powerful than you realize. The ability to inspire faith, to bring hope, to unite, that is a power that can change worlds."
Daemon Lorgar's expression twisted with frustration. "Do you think hope and faith will protect him from the horrors of the galaxy? Will it shield him and his from those who seek to destroy you?"
Corax's voice was unwavering. "Hope and faith have moved mountains, toppled empires. They are not shields, but they are the foundations upon which true strength is built. Young one, you have the potential to be that foundation, to be a light in the darkness."
The younger Lorgar looked between the two, the dark allure of Daemon Lorgar's promises warring with the profound truth in Corax's words. Slowly, he stood, drawing strength from Corax's presence.
"I... I want to be that light," Lorgar said, his voice trembling but resolute. "I don't want to be driven by fear and power for its own sake. I want to inspire, to unite, to bring hope."
Daemon Lorgar's eyes burned with pity. "You are making a mistake, Lorgar. You will regret this path. All that you build will be torn down and lost."
But the younger Lorgar shook his head. "No. I will forge my own path. I will be more than just another warrior. I will be a beacon of hope."
Lorgar's fists clenched and forced himself to ask the question that had been burning in the back of his mind.
"But I have a question," he said, looking at the Daemon Primarch. "You claim that the Emperor betrayed you…….Why? Why did the Emperor forsake you?"
Corax placed a hand on Lorgar's shoulder answering before the Daemon Primarch had the chance. "Because he feared my brother's devotion," he said. "He saw the danger in blind faith. But he also saw his potential."
Daemon Lorgar circled them, his eyes gleaming. "Potential for what? Destruction? Chaos?"
"No," Corax said firmly. "For growth. For change. Lorgar, young one, neither of you are weak. Both of your faith is a strength, but it needs balance."
Lorgar looked at Corax, hope flickering in his eyes. "Balance?"
"Yes," Corax affirmed. "The Emperor wanted you to find your own path, to question, to doubt, and yet to remain steadfast. You were meant to be a beacon, not a fanatic."
"And what path did you find, Corax? The shadows?" Daemon Lorgar scoffed.
"I embraced the shadows," he said. "But I also learned to emerge from them. We all have darkness within us, but it need not consume us." Corax said, his gaze hard.
Lorgar felt a surge of determination.
"So, what now?" He asked.
You squeezed Lorgar's shoulder, drawing his attention back to you. "Now we move forward. You are not alone in this, Lorgar. We are here with you, to support you, to help you make the right choices. Look around you. See the people who believe in you, who see the good in you."
Lorgar's gaze shifted, taking in the faces of those around the campfire. Warriors, friends, and allies who had stood by him, who saw not the potential for darkness but the light within him. Slowly, a glimmer of hope began to replace the uncertainty in his eyes.
"You are right," he whispered, his voice gaining strength. "I cannot let the fear of what I might become dictate who I am. I must be the master of my own fate."
You stood, offering a hand to Lorgar. "We are with you, every step of the way. Remember that you are not alone, and that your decisions define you far more than your temptations ever could."
Lorgar took your hand, his grip firm, his eyes filled with renewed resolve. "Thank you. Both of you. I will not let the darkness claim me. I will walk my own path, guided by the light within me."
"Then are you ready for the second trial, young one? Are you ready to face what you are now?" Daemon Lorgar's voice echoed, filled with simpathy.
The younger Lorgar looked up, a mixture of determination and apprehension in his eyes. "I am ready."
Without another word, the world around them shifted. The campfire vanished, replaced by the cold, sterile interior of a Mechanicus lab. The smell of oil and metal filled the air, and the hum of machinery was constant. Lorgar recognized the place immediately, the first meeting with Archmagos Zabius Seroniaz.
In the center of the room stood the Archmagos, his mechanical form imposing and alien. Beside him was a man, bound and trembling. His eyes were wild with fear, and dark tendrils of possession wriggled beneath his skin.
"This is the second test, young one," Daemon Lorgar's voice whispered, seemingly from everywhere and nowhere. "The Archmagos brought this man to test if you were of the warp. But do you know why this man was chosen to be posessed?"
The younger Lorgar's brow furrowed but could give no answer.
"Then let me enlighten you. He was caught raiding the Archmagos's supplies." Daemon Lorgar said as he stepped closer, his presence oppressive. "Indeed. His only crime was trying to feed his family and tribe, who are all now dead or worse. And you, in your quest to better you and yours, were willing to ignore his plight. Tell me, where is the freedom and unity you preach in that?"
The memory of the man's terrified eyes, the desperation in his pleas that went unspoken, the unspoken screams as the daemon slowly ate his soul, it all came rushing back from the back of his mind where he had pushed it to.
The scene shifted again, this time to a dimly lit chamber filled with rows of Servitors, once-human machines now stripped of their individuality and will. Daemon Lorgar guided the younger Lorgar to one particular Servitor. Its flesh was a grotesque patchwork of metal and organic matter, and its eyes, though empty, seemed to scream silently.
"Look closer, and see what remains of the man's family," Daemon Lorgar commanded.
Lorgar stepped forward, peering into the hollow eyes of the Servitor. A wave of horror washed over him as he felt the faint, lingering consciousness within, the remnants of a mind, trapped and mutilated, screaming endlessly without a mouth to utter a sound.
"This is the fate of those you chose to ignore," Daemon Lorgar's voice filled with genuine pity. "Is this the freedom and hope you wish to bring? To turn a blind eye to injustice for the so-called 'Greater Good'?"
Lorgar recoiled, the weight of his actions crashing down upon him. He fell to his knees, shaking. "No... I never wanted this. I never wanted anyone to suffer for my choices."
The older Lorgar laughed long and hard, his laughter echoing through the chamber, a bitter, self hating laugh, "And yet, we allowed it. We chose to sacrifice the innocent for our own ambitions. Do you see now, the hypocrisy of our ideals?"
Tears streamed down the younger Lorgar's face as he looked up at the Daemon Prince.
CHOICE:
Yeah, remember my hints at how Lorgar will react to Servators? How he trusted you enough to not make a scene at the Archmagos meeting when the possessed person was brought in? All brought up as the truth includes the negative as much as the positives. All the comfortable lies you tell yourself? A vision quest strips all of that and shows you who you really are.
[] Write in Stunt + Plan: (Fan Morgal or Corax or both)
