You are a Primarch, a demigod forged by the greatest human that has ever and will ever live. Your role is that of war and conquest, a tool built to subjugate a galaxy.
Except, something went horribly wrong, as it tends to do.
Will you break free of the shackles of your creation, or will you embrace them? The choice is yours.
Your pod blazed through the Empyrean, protected by the ancient and powerful technologies that would have driven relic-seekers mad with greed and envy.
Not that you particularly cared or understood such quite yet. After all, you are a baby.
A superhuman baby, of course, but still a baby.
Daemons bit at your heels, panting with the desire to consume your soul, held back only by the Gellar fields threatening to unmake them should they come too close.
They, however, were quick to scatter as four separate sets of eyes were turned upon you. Malignant and mighty, they reached out with powers beyond mortal understanding, subtly adjusting the course of your pod through the Empyrean before withdrawing, still chuckling and hollering with glee at their successful scheme against the Anathema.
Except, for all their power and intellect, not even the great Four could have predicted what happened next, as a sudden and unexpected Warp Storm manifested itself within the Empyrean, right in the path of the pod.
And, before the Four could act to prevent their plan from falling apart, the pod vanished within the storm, unknowingly escaping from a plot that would've seen an empire tear itself apart.
Not all was well, however, even as the furious cries of the Four faded away. The storm was a mighty one, nonsensical in its nature and with the potential to drown universes under its fury.
As such, the fact that you emerged changed from the storm is no large surprise. However, where a lesser mortal might've been turned into a nonsensical thing by the might of the storm, you are a Demigod, a creature beyond mortality and reason.
Thus, when you emerged from the storm a simultaneously subjective eternity and an objective moment later, you did so changed, yes, but also mightier.
The storm has changed you, but with each change comes power. Below lie the choices you must make. You have 10 points to spend, and some choices will grant you extra points should you pick them.
[] Wings - Flight is the dream of man. To you, however, it is a dream no longer. +1 points
[] Tail - Prove the Eldar right, with the benefit of now having an agile and prehensile limb sprouting from your butt. +1 points
[] Rainbow Colors - From your hair to your skin, you will look like someone accidentally spilled a rainbow onto you. +1 points
[] Extra Arms - Another set of arms appears alongside your normal ones. While this is only a benefit in combat, beware that such overt mutations are not taken kindly to. +1 points
[] Claws - Your fingers will now be tipped with incredibly durable and sharp claws, capable of shredding through armor and foe alike. +1 points
[] Boiling Skin - Your natural temperature will be insanely high, to the point that a mere touch can melt skin and metal. You can dial this back to basically nothing with enough practice, but doing so will always require intense concentration. +1 points
[] Beyond Sustenance - You will no longer need to breathe, eat, or drink, as you now instead draw upon the Warp itself to provide for you. As a cost, however, you will be unable to digest food, and being in the presence of a Blank will be dangerous rather than just uncanny. +1 points
[] Fey Appearance - No matter what, you will be beautiful, but with this, you will become incredibly so, at the cost of looking more like an elf than a human. As a bonus, this will probably confuse the Eldar. +1 points
[] Compassion - Primarchs are tools of war, and as such, have no use for empathy. The Storm has changed this, and now, you will find yourself instinctively putting yourself in the shoes of other people. While not cripplingly so, you will find it much harder to bring harm to others. +3 points [] Loving Heart - Your heart will thaw, and you will be capable of truly loving others. +5 points total
[] Gender Swap - The Emperor envisioned his tools as just that, tools. They were not to replace humanity, and his way of doing so was to ensure that Space Marines could only ever be male. You, however, find yourself breaking that rule. +5 points
[] Technological Affinity - You will instinctively be able to understand technology on a much higher level than your siblings. With enough practice and study, you will be able to create wonders. -2 Points
[] Unnatural Eyes - All Primarchs have eyes so far beyond human that it's ridiculous. Yours are even better, and with extra abilities on top. -2 points
[] Beast Affinity - Animals and monsters alike will find themselves taking an instinctive liking to you, acting more submissive and obedient while simultaneously growing stronger from your mere presence. -2 points.
[] Warp-Presence - While all Primarchs are just as much creatures of the Empyrean as they are of the Material, you will be overtly so. Your very being will appear ethereal and otherwordly, frightening your enemies and rallying your allies while also giving you a boost in fights against Warp beings. -2 Points
[] Gigantism - All Primarchs are above men, quite literally so. You, however, will tower over Primarchs themselves, with the strength to more than match your size. -4 points.
[] Psyker - The power of the warp bows before you. Even without this, you will be capable of subconsciously manipulating it, but with this, you will become capable of using magic itself. -5 points [] Alpha Psyker - Your very being will boil with magical power, growing to a level on par with that of your red-skinned brother. -8 points total.
[] Perpetual - Somehow, impossibly, the Storm has granted you the power to laugh at death in the face. Your regeneration will skyrocket, and you will find yourself nigh impossible to truly kill. Beware, however, for fates worse than death are aplenty. -8 points
It would be impossible to tell just how long your journey through the Empyrean truly lasted, for time held no meaning in the hell-dimension.
Nonetheless, as all things do, it eventually ended. Your exit from the warp storm that had unwittingly saved you was quick and anticlimactic, as it spat your pod out directly into the material realm like a petulant child.
Your pod shook violently as it was thrown through dimension, but nonetheless held firm, protecting your yet vulnerable form.
And so, at long last, you were free.
Still, free or not, your pod's journey was not quite over. For two days it continued on its journey, reaching mind-boggling speeds as it streaked toward the nearest celestial body.
And then, at the end of the second day, it finally arrived. The atmosphere ignited around your pod as it fell down like a meteor, casting an unnatural and yet beautiful light around itself as it did, before then smashing against the ground with enough force to cause a small earthquake.
And then, silence. For several minutes, nothing happened as the world settled back down around your pod.
For the first time in your short and chaotic life, you knew peace.
It did not last, of course, as the pod abruptly began to open, archeotechnologies whirring to life as they slowly and carefully allowed the front of the pod to open, revealing your baby-like body to the world.
Slowly, your eyes fluttered open, containing within them more awareness and intellect than any normal baby should have rightfully had.
And the first thing you saw was...
[] An awed woman dressed in primitive clothing and with inhumanly sharp features, her ears long and pointed, staring at you with a spark of adoration.
[] A black-skinned behemoth with one eye, kneeling down before your pod as he looked down at you with gentle worry.
[] An angel-like woman with three pairs of wings sprouting from her back, her face void of features as she reached out to you with her mind.
[X] A swamp of acidic chemicals beneath a steel plated sky. Around the wreckage of a slum lies in ruin while mutated creatures scurry closer. A Giger counter starts clicking.
[X] A women with pale porcelain skin, though dirty, eyes pure shiny black obsidian, though teary as if just crying now with wonderment, 8 thick long black strong spider legs sprouted from the middle of her back, in a simple white dress and white streaked raven black hair, though tangled and very disheveled.
[X] A women with pale porcelain skin, though dirty, eyes pure shiny black obsidian, though teary as if just crying now with wonderment, 8 thick long black strong spider legs sprouted from the middle of her back, in a simple white dress and white streaked raven black hair, though tangled and very disheveled.
[X] An awed woman dressed in primitive clothing and with inhumanly sharp features, her ears long and pointed, staring at you with a spark of adoration
"Ynanera... I'm sorry." The healer apologized, a grimace on his face even as he bowed his head down in shame.
Even with that, however, Ynanera couldn't bring herself to look at him, for that would require taking her eyes off of the body lying still on her lap.
With trembling fingers, she reached down to cradle her daughter's head, gently closing her unfocused eyes.
It wasn't supposed to be like this. Her daughter had been skilled, proud, and strong. At the tender age of 30, barely into the cusp of adulthood, she'd already tamed a dragon for herself and had been offered an apprenticeship by the chieftain himself.
And yet, all it took for her future to be cut short was a simple accident during training. She and one of the other trainees had been play-fighting on their dragons, and in their folly, had neglected to use training weapons.
Ynanera's eyes closed tightly as she leaned down on her daughter, kissing her forehead even as tears threatened to fall from her eyes.
Around her, the rest of her tribe looked on in respectful silence, the healer having made his way back into the crowd even as the chief stepped forward, kneeling down next to Ynanera.
"You have lost much." He murmured, watching as Ynanera shook and cried. Finally, after giving her a minute to grieve, he held out his hand, putting it on her daughter's cold body. "Allow me?"
Ynanera wanted to snarl, to rage at him for daring to ask, for she knew what he wanted. However, she just couldn't find the energy to do so. As such, she merely gave a small, weak nod in response.
The chief took her daughter's body into his own arms, holding her like a precious treasure as he took her away so that her girl could go through the proper burial rites. Meanwhile, her friends stepped forward, quickly surrounding her as they took her away as well, so that she would not have to look and suffer more.
It didn't help.
Six months had passed. Her tribe had long since moved, both emotionally and location-wise. New crises had come and passed, skirmishes had been fought, food had been harvested, and her people lived on, just as they had since the Fall.
But Ynanera had not. Even to this day, she struggled to move on. At times, it felt like her grief would drown her, like it would hollow out her insides and leave her as nothing more than an empty shell.
It was only thanks to the hard work that was needed for their survival that Ynanera had not spiraled further, but even then, life nowadays felt far too dull to the Eldar woman.
And how could it not, when her husband had been killed during an Ork raid, her oldest and most trusted friend killed in a skirmish, and now her daughter was gone as well, leaving Ynanera feeling more alone than she'd felt in centuries.
But one day, all of that changed.
As a matter of fact, all Eldar are extremely psychically sensitive. Not everyone has the skill and mindset to become a full-on Psyker, of course, but all have the potential.
As such, when the sky burned and the Warp screamed, all Eldar on the planet felt it.
The Eldar maiden had been busy working beforehand, having been assigned the dull but necessary job of replanting next year's crops. She'd rejected any offers for help, preferring to remain by her lonesome self with only her trusted steed, the dragon Ka'riel for company while she worked.
Now, Ynanera's head snapped upward while her psychic senses went berserk, her eyes widening as she watched a burning, golden meteor fall from the sky, the Warp twisting and boiling around it as it fell.
Worse yet, as her advanced mind quickly calculated the meteor's path, she determined that it was heading straight for her!
"Ka'riel!" She shouted, her dragon already having been stirring awake from its nap due to its rider's psychic distress. "Ride!" Ynanera ordered as she dexterously swung herself atop it.
Ka'riel was quick to obey, the lithe megadon lurching forward as it sought to flee from the unknown source of its master's fear.
Ynanera, for her part, kept her eyes on the sky, watching with increasing worry as the golden meteor fell. The closer it got, the more she was able to glean from it, and what she saw left her confused.
Thankfully, she was easily able to determine that it did not bear She-Who-Thirst's influence, and neither did it contain the Ork's distinctly violent psychic signature.
No. Rather, from what Ynanera could tell, the meteor contained traces of some sort of ancient and immensely powerful energies, but they were weak and faded. However, the second power within it was much more abundant and prominent, giving off feelings of new, strong, and pure.
And then, just as she finished determining that, time ran out as the meteor struck the ground.
Ynanera let out a yelp as the earth buckled, her loyal dragon letting out a distressed roar as it was thrown off its feet, which in turn caused its rider to be thrown off as well. The Eldar maiden grimaced as she twisted mid-air, landing with the grace her race was renowned for.
"By Isha's tits..." She cursed, hand shooting down to her waist where she kept her sword sheathed, glaring at the dust as it slowly settled down around the newly-made crater.
And, when it finally did, the 'meteor' was finally revealed.
The first thing that Ynanera saw was gold. Far, far too much gold, in her opinion.
The second was the two big straight lines carved into the center of the meteor, which after wracking her brain for a few moments, she remembered as being the symbol for the number 2 in the human language.
Cautiously, Ynanera approached, body as tense as a raptor even as one hand clutched her sword and the other her shuriken thrower. With each step, her caution grew, even as she questioned herself on just why she was approaching it instead of fleeing.
Even though she could fight, she was no warrior. Her path was that of a craftswoman, and as such, it was not her duty to approach and fight off threats.
But even with that, she could not stop. Her curiosity burned bright as she tentatively examined the meteor, which she had by now long since determined was no meteor at all, but rather some sort of artificial container.
And then, with a sudden hiss that had her jumping back in surprise, the container began to open.
Ynanera crouched, gun aimed and sword at the ready, prepared for whatever monstrosity would leap out. However, as each second passed and said monstrosity failed to appear, she slowly relaxed again.
And then, once again, she did something that she knew damn well she'd be berated for, had anyone else been there with her.
She looked inside the container.
And, as cliche as it might be, what she saw truly shocked her.
Because lying before her, sleeping peacefully in absolute silence, was a baby.
Ynanera's mind short-circuited for a moment as she stared at the child, and for a brief instant, she felt as though she was looking at her lost daughter.
The illusion was quickly broken, however, as the child's eyes opened, meeting her own a moment after.
Ynanera's breath held in her throat as she examined the babe, unsure of what to make of it even as it examined her in return with an intelligence that should have been utterly alien to such a childish body.
Her first instinct was to say that it was a human, but that couldn't be. After all, humans were not, as a rule, as beautiful as the baby was, and neither did they have rainbow-colored insectoid wings sprouting from their back.
Said first instinct paled in comparison to her second, as all of a sudden, the pit of endless guilt and grief that she'd been living with for months now gave way, replaced by a strange sensation that she didn't immediately understand.
Gently, cautiously, she reached down to the babe, intent on picking it up. However, just as she was about to touch it, Ynanera freezed as she felt the babe's eyes sharpen, its disturbingly powerful psychic power reaching for her, searching and judging.
It was... familiar. Ynanera's lips twitched as she realized that the babe was trying to determine if she was a threat or not... Just like her daughter always used to, back when she was a babe herself.
At that moment, Ynanera did not see a strange mutant human. She did not see an unnaturally powerful and intelligent child. Instead, all she saw was a young babe in need of care.
And so, she tenderly reached back, giving off feelings of safety and assurance. Her psychic power felt small and weak before the babe's, but even then, it was far more refined, something that easily showed itself as the babe quickly understood her, placidly retracting its power.
Finally, Ynanera was able to pick up the babe, carefully cradling it in her arms as she took it out from inside the container. The babe let out a happy giggle, stubby little arms waving as it nustled itself- herself, she corrected as her eyes briefly glanced at the baby's pelvis.
Even still, Ynanera's heart couldn't help but melt at the sight. Despite her own confusion at the babe's origins and race, there was an incredibly strong resemblance to a proper Eldar within her. Mayhaps it was some kind of half-breed or genetic experiment?
Had she been a Craftworlder, Ynanera had no doubt that she would have killed the babe on the spot for such a crime as resembling an Eldar. But, as it was, all she felt was a sense of kinship.
"You're a cute one, aren't you?" Ynanera murmured, running her fingers along the edges of the strange, multicolored insectoid wings that sprouted from the babe's back.
She was immediately able to tell that the wings weren't wholly of the material realm, as her fingers briefly sunk into and through one, only to come out the other side without any harm inflicted.
The babe babbled back, smiling toothily at her even as chubby fingers reached up to grasp her cheek, the babe's curiosity evidently matching and even exceeding her own as it played with her face.
It was in that moment that Ynanera made a decision that would forever change the course of history.
"Tell me, little one." She spoke, not just with her voice but also with her very soul. "Would you like to come with me?" She asked, carefully hiding how much her heart desired for the babe to say yes.
In response, the babe went still, staring at her with a tilted head, eyes boring into her with unnerving intensity.
Then, the babe squealed happily, reaching for her long hair and shoving it into her mouth.
Ynanera winced, but could not nonetheless hide her smile as she walked back over to her dragon, who had been looking on at the meeting with an animalistic curiosity.
"Well." She said, more to herself than to anyone else. "Before we go back home, I guess we'll have to decide on a name." She murmured, determination flaring within her as she realized that it would not be easy to convince her tribe to accept her decision to care for the babe.
No matter. She'd decided, and Asuryan himself wouldn't be able to make her change her mind.
"Hmm..." She hummed to herself, gently rocking the babe side-to-side even as she climbed atop Ka'riel. "How about..."
[] Write-in. Eldar-esque names only, please, and if no good candidates come up I'll choose it myself.
Ynanera was... hesitant, to say the least, as she silently urged Ka'riel to come to a stop as they entered the edges of the tribe's encampment.
Still, with naught but a glance at the peacefully sleeping bundle in her arms, which she'd wrapped into a warm ball with her fur cloak, Ynanera found her courage once more.
There would be no hiding the newly-named Mór-Sidhe, she knew. The girl shined as bright as a star within the Warp, and her lack of training ensured that she was unable to conceal it. Moreover, her fellow Eldar were not so easily deceived, and it would be impossible to sneak the girl into the camp in the first place anyways.
Taking a deep breath and hardening her nerves, Ynanera marched into the camp, her faithful dragon trailing behind her as she did.
Of course, her arrival did not really attract that much attention, but it certainly felt like it did. Her eyes remained firmly held forward even as curious gazes were turned toward her, and more specifically, toward the bundle in her arms.
Still, Ynanera was a woman on a mission as she made her way through the camp, stopping only to nudge her steed back over to the holding area, the dragon thankfully complying without raising any fuss.
Finally, only a few minutes later, she reached her destination.
The chieftain's tent was not all that different from all the other ones scattered around the camp. A chieftain led, after all, but he did not rule. That was the duty and privilege of the king.
Even still, however, stopped at the edges of the tent, the two guards standing there eyeing her warily as she did.
She took a deep breath. This was the moment of truth.
"I wish to speak with Lord Fanrys." She told them, arms tightening protectively around Mór-Sidhe. The two guards exchanged glances, and Ynanera held her breath as the two wordlessly talked through telepathy.
Finally, a moment later, one of the guards nodded, stepping into the tent while the other one remained at guard, the woman's eyes flickering to the child in her arms, a confused furrow lining her brows.
The minute that passed as they waited felt far longer than it actually was, and it was only Mór-Sidhe's steady breathing and peaceful psychic emanations that allowed Ynanera to remain firm.
She was damn well aware that what she wanted to do would not be looked upon favorably. At all.
Even then, however, she still wanted to do it. If not for herself, then for the strange yet beautiful child in her arms. She did not have to be a Farseer to tell that she held within her boundless potential, and so it only made sense to her that she would make sure said potential was not turned against them, she rationalized to herself.
(The fact that she desperately longed for the chance to once again raise a babe as her own, to have the opportunity to shower them in love and be showered in return, was of course ignored)
Finally, at the end of that oh-so-long minute, the guard came back out. "Go." He grunted, stepping aside so as to allow Ynanera to enter.
And, with more than a little trepidation in her heart, she did.
The moment she stepped foot inside, using one hand to push the leather curtains to the side while the other Mór-Sidhe close, Ynanera was immediately reminded of just why Fanrys Raylan had been elected as the chief of their tribe.
Because the entire inside of the tent was absolutely filled with weapons.
From Craftworlder armaments to the more traditional Exodite weapons and even a few dreaded Drukhari arms, the chieftain had them all, displayed openly for all to see.
Even still, Ynanera did not let that stop her as she bowed to the chieftain, her back bending at a perfect 90-degree angle.
She did not kneel, of course, as that was reserved for the king and his royal family.
"My lord," She spoke, rising up from her bow once Fanrys gestured for her to do so. "I come bearing news regarding the falling comet, as well as a... request." She said, carefully choosing her words as she did.
She knew Fanrys personally, which was more or less inevitable considering their tribe consisted of only around five hundred Aeldari on a good day. However, she knew very well that Fanrys would show no favoritism toward her despite their relations.
"Is that so?" Fanrys questioned, his eyes flickering onto the bundle in her arms. Between the psychic emanations and the steady breathing coming from it, even the slowest mon-keigh would've been able to determine what she was holding. "Let me guess, it has something to do with what you're holding." He murmured, not so much asking but rather stating.
Ynanera nodded slowly, and after only a moment's hesitation, gently and carefully unraveled the young child, showcasing her to the chieftain, whose eyes practically bore into the babe.
"This is Mór-Sidhe," Ynanera spoke again, thankfully drawing the chieftain's attention away from the babe. "As far as I can determine, the meteor was, in truth, some sort of gestation pod for her. Why it was sent streaking through the Warp, I do not know, but I have memorized the location of its landing, so surely someone more knowledgeable than me could tell."
Fanrys stared at her with inscrutable eyes, picking her apart with nothing but his eyes. Despite herself, Ynanera couldn't help but slowly tense up, bringing the babe closer to her chest as she did.
For a dozen seconds, neither of them said a word, Ynanera's emotions threatening to boil over into panic even as Fanrys' own remained hidden thanks to centuries of harsh and merciless training.
Surprisingly, however, it was Fanrys who broke the silence first.
"Ynanera..." He sighed, leaning back on his chair as he spoke. The female Eldar tensed, words and explanations already rising to her lips before being shut down with a single gesture from the chieftain. "You cannot replace her. Not like this." He said simply.
Ynanera felt like she'd just been punched in the gut by an Ork, a glare forming on her face even as Fanrys continued speaking. "This... thing, is not natural. Even you can surely tell that." He told her, eyes glancing over at the babe, whose own eyes had now opened and were staring at Fanrys, unnatural intelligence shining within them.
"Do not let its appearance fool you, Ynanera, and do not let your own grief get in the way of rationality." Fanrys cautioned, even as Ynanera tried desperately not to show just how much his words had affected her. "This babe may not be of the Enemy's, but that does not make it any less dangerous."
"If we treat everything like a danger, then everything will become a danger!" Ynanera finally snapped, her temper flaring. "This child has done no crimes, committed no evil, and slighted none. You would kill her anyways, only because of your own fear and ignorance!?" She demanded, tightening her grip on the babe even further, practically smushing her against her collarbone and chest.
Fanrys did not rise at her words, and his face remained placid as he tilted his head down in acknowledgment. "Personally, I would not." He agreed. "But that does not change the fact that this babe is a danger. I have served under several Farseers in the past, Ynanera." He said, words that should have come off as a brag somehow managing to come off only as statements of fact. "And you do not survive a Farseer's service without learning to discern such things."
Ynanera stared at the chieftain in disbelief, before her eyes turned toward the child, who, upon noticing the woman's gaze, smiled toothily, letting out a childish giggle as she tried to reach up to her hair.
Conflict raged within her heart. All her life, she had been taught that the Aeldari could not allow threats to grow, lest their entire race be lost to a fate far worse than death. Preemptive strikes and actions were the way of life for her kind, and thus, Ynanera knew that Fanrys spoke the truth.
She might not feel the danger he himself spoke of, but she however could certainly feel the truth of his words.
But... Even then, her heart rebelled. The babe was pure and innocent. She did not deserve to be harmed because of some far-flung 'maybe' that might very well not come to pass.
Mercifully, Fanrys did not speak as Ynanera's heart raged with itself, duty and love and desire clashing within her as it did.
At last, after an entire five minutes, Ynanera came to a final decision.
She kneeled down, putting her forehead to the ground itself and ignoring the way her hair dirtied itself around her. "... Please, my lord." She begged, her voice hoarse and filled with emotion. "I, I understand your words. Should the child truly show itself to be a threat to our tribe, then I will be the first to hand her to you." She promised.
"But... Even then, I beg of you to give her, to give me, a chance. You say that I am replacing my daughter, but that is not true. Nothing will ever replace my daughter, no matter how much I wish it so." She bit her lips, tears threatening to fall from her eyes. "I have long since desired to birth more children. As far as I care, she is simply an opportunity to have one earlier than I'd expected."
Silence reigned within the tent. Ynanera did not dare raise her head from the ground, even as the babe started to squirm in her arms and Fanrys' eyes bore into the back of her head.
Then, suddenly... "Many in the tribe will not approve." He warned, his voice just as neutral and placid as before. "And I doubt the other tribes will either."
Ynaneris felt a flare of hope in her heart but dared not act on it. "I understand, my lord."
"The child will likely not be as easy and straightforward as your daughter was. Even now, I can tell that there is something more to her." Fanrys continued. "It will not be easy to raise her properly."
Another flare. "I understand, but I still wish to try." She repeated, a note of hope entering her voice.
Finally, Fanrys inclined his head, allowing a small, tired smile to show. "... So you do, so you do." He murmured. "Then go, Ynaneris. The babe is starting to look mighty hungry." He said in a dryly amused tone.
For a moment, Ynaneris could barely believe her ears.
Her bafflement, however, did not last long.
"Thank you, my lord! Thank you so, so much!" She said, her voice ecstatic as she repeatedly thanked him over and over until her throat started to hurt.
Fanrys smiled slightly, waving her off. "Of course. Just make sure to remember your own words, should the time ever come." He cautioned, although he could easily tell that Ynaneris wasn't really paying attention to him anymore as she nodded fervently, her eyes focused only on the babe as she quickly ran out of his tent, already pushing aside her coat as she did.
The chieftain sighed, leaning back on his chair as he found himself alone once more.
Was he making a mistake, he wondered. He had no doubt that many of his former commanders would have exterminated the babe on the spot, and probably Ynanera too had she dared raise a fuss about it.
But, well, he was his own person, and he did not believe in such rabid and liberal use of violence to solve far-flung issues, a tactic which he knew from first-hand experience tended to create more problems than it solved.
He sighed, putting the problem on hold for the moment.
He had other, more important work to tend to, after all.
In the coming days, Mór-Sidhe would prove to be a particular type of baby, something that would lay the groundwork, although not the details, of her future personality. Beware, for each choice might lead to unforeseen benefits/consequences. Choose three.
"Sidhe!" Ynanera called out, eyes squinted as she tried to find her adopted child. "Where are you, baby? It's time to go back." She continued calling, the tall, grassy field around them shifting with the wind as she walked.
A childish, ethereal giggle resounded from some ways away, and despite herself, Ynanera couldn't help but feel her lips quirk up into a smile.
With her superior hearing compared to the lesser races, it was no issue for Ynanera to immediately know where Mór-Sidhe was hiding now. Even then, however, she decided to play along.
"Ooh, I see, I see." She said into the wind. "Sounds like somebody doesn't want me to tell her a bedtime story tonight!"
"Noo!" Mór-Sidhe squealed, shooting up from where she'd been hiding amongst the tall grass. "Story! Story!" She chanted as she ran back to Ynanera, who crouched down and prepared herself for what she knew was coming.
And, sure enough, a moment later the Eldar woman was forced to let out a huff as Mór-Sidhe hug-tackled her, the far too big six-month-old child already starting to become too strong for her to play-fight with as she'd used to.
Still, Ynanera laughed brightly, the sound akin to tinkling crystals even as happiness and love coursed through her, far more intensely than what any human would be able to feel. "Alright, alright." She was finally able to say after calming down. "We'll do storytime tonight. Still, did you finish planting everything?" She asked, forcing herself to sober up from her previous emotional high.
Mór-Sidhe nodded eagerly, a beaming smile on her face. "I did! I finished hours ago, then I got bored so I played with the animals." She proclaimed proudly.
And, in Ynanera's opinion, she was right to be proud, because for all that some of her more close-minded kin might sneer at her child behind her back, Mór-Sidhe was nothing short of amazing.
She'd grown up so fast, going from a newborn baby unable to walk to a toddler already speaking her first words in only a single month, and then kept up the pace by becoming a fluent Aeldari speaker in only three months, having already gained the body of a 10-year old Aeldari by that point.
And now, six months into her life, Mór-Sidhe was already helping out with her mother's tasks, the young girl's eagerness to help and love for learning driving her to never once complain as she was assigned chore after chore.
Ynanera smiled, ruffling her daughter's long golden hair, drawing a small stink eye from her as she smushed up her carefully-made braid.
"Let's go." She merely said in response, pointedly ignoring her daughter's petulant sniff as she whistled loudly, the sound resonating just as much psychically as it did materially.
In the distance, Ka'riel perked up, the loyal dragon raising his head from where he'd been feasting upon his latest kill, and after a second whistle, was quick to abandon it in favor of running back over to Ynanera's side.
Mór-Sidhe giggled happily as the dragon came to a stop before them, taking a rapid few steps to approach the dragon before her mother did, all so that she could smother it with some extra love.
"Sidhe, stop spoiling Ka'riel. He'll get lazy if you keep it up." Ynanera scolded lightly as she noticed her daughter sneakily give the dragon one of the berries they'd been sent to gather.
"Aw, come on, mom. Ka'riel's a good boy, he deserves a treat!" She said in a joking tone, turning her head to give her smile a small smirk before leaning in next to Ka'riel's ear. "Remember our deal, my friend. I give you treats, and you take me for rides when mom's not looking." She whispered conspiratorially, her smile widening when the dragon purred.
Ynanera sighed helplessly, but even then, she couldn't help but smile.
Her daughter was strange, she knew that. Some called her unnatural, an abomination that should never have been taken in by the tribe.
However, as Mór-Sidhe and Ka'riel played together, the loyal but usually stern dragon acting more like a nestling rather than the fully-aged adult that he was, Ynanera knew that those people were wrong.
"A good haul," Laeshor commented as he helped Ynanera unload the straw container filled to the brim with precious berries. "Better than your usual."
"Mhm." Ynanera hummed, muscles straining as she carefully pulled one of the containers off of Ka'riel's back. "Sidhe was very helpful. The girl's got enough strength in her to match a warrior." She shamelessly bragged.
Laeshor snorted, shaking his head. "Of course she does. That girl seems to pull the impossible out of her ass every time I look at her." He said, the bite in his words nullified by the fondness in both his tone and soul.
Ynanera hid a smile from her closest surviving friend, saying nothing.
The man was just as smitten with the charismatic little girl as she herself was, especially considering that the man always volunteered to act as her babysitter whenever Ynanera was busy.
The two of them continued to work in peaceful silence. Around them, other Eldar came and went about their duties, some occasionally dipping in to offer some of their help as they did.
Eventually, by the time the sun was three-thirds of the way through the sky, they'd finished. Everything had been properly processed and stored away, ready to be used by the chefs and other craftsmen as necessary.
Ynanera sighed, lightly stretching out her arms and back as she recovered from the day's heavy labor. "Good work, Laes." She said, receiving naught but a grunt in return as Laeshor went through his own stretches. "Well, I'll be going now. I need to pick up Sidhe from her class."
"Good luck with that," Laeshor mumbled. "I'd enjoy it while it lasts if I were you. The kids gonna learn everything they can teach her there by the year's end."
Ynanera's smile widened at his words, her chest puffing up like a peacock. "Of course she is." She proudly said as she strutted away, smile as radiant as the sun.
She tried very hard not to let it dim as she heard the mocking and fearmongering whispers from some of the Eldar who'd overheard their conversation, words like 'halfbreed' 'mutant' and 'outsider' prominent amongst those not-so-hidden conversations.
... She didn't succeed.
Ynanera was not a trained Psyker. She could not cast spells that could shake the earth and erase entire armies. She could not gaze into the Sea of Souls and witness the future.
She, however, was a mother, and a highly psychically reactive one at that. As such, as she approached the large tent that bore the important job of holding the classes that would teach their future generation many of the things that made a proper Aeldari an Aeldari, she could immediately tell that her daughter was upset.
Classes were over for the day, she knew, so as she hurriedly made her way to the reserved area behind the tent, where a playground had been set up, she quickly got a suspicion as to what was going on.
And, sure enough, as the children and their one adult overseer came into view, what she saw left her temper flaring up.
The children were playing some kind of war game, as they often did. They swung around toy weapons, pretending to be warriors as they chased after each other, yelling and screaming all the while as they did.
But, far more important to Ynanera was her daughter, who was sitting on the edge of the playground, arms drawn around her knees as she watched the other kids play, a few sniffles and tears escaping her even as her psychic signature practically drowned with childish rejection.
"What in Khaine's name is going on here!?" She demanded harshly as she stomped her way into the playground, not even looking at the overseeing adult, who was already turning to face her with a pitched frown on her face.
"Ynanera?" She asked with a slightly surprised note in her voice. "You're early."
Ynanera, however, had no care for the woman at the moment as she kneeled down before her daughter, who was still stubbornly refusing to raise her head.
"Baby?" She gently said, putting a hand on the back of her head. "Come on, baby girl. Don't cry. It's okay, mommy's here." She said reassuringly, stroking her daughter's back.
That seemed to be the final nail needed, as a moment later, Ynanera found herself with a supernaturally strong child hugged tight to her torso, babbling and crying childishly. "T-they don't wanna play with me, mommy! They're mean and call me names! Mommy, make them stop!" She cried, burying her head into her mother's chest just like she used to as a younger child.
Ynanera's mind went through three emotional phases at her daughter's words.
First, she felt fury at the children for making her daughter cry. Then, disappointment in herself for blaming children for being children. And, finally, resigned anger at the general universe for being such a shitty place that it allowed her wonderful daughter to cry.
"Come on, Sidhe." She murmured, shooting a nasty look at the overseer as she tried to approach, stalling the woman in her tracks. "Let's go home."
Mór-Sidhe sniffled in response.
"I just wanted to play Kill the Orks with them." Her daughter dejectedly explained, bumbled up in her fur sheets as she lay on her bed with Ynanera sitting behind her, running one hand through her hair while the other carefully groomed her still mostly cosmetic wings.
"But Telmia said I couldn't play because I'm a stupid m-mutant, and then Fansen agreed, and then nobody would let me play with them." She sniffled again as she finished her recounting of the events.
"Oh, baby girl..." Ynanera murmured, wrapping her daughter in yet another hug. The young, winged girl happily leaned into it, closing her eyes as she did. "You're not a 'stupid mutant', and you shouldn't let them say such things about you." She said sadly.
"B-but what if I am?" Mór-Sidhe mumbled miserably, drawing a frown from her adoptive mother's face. "I'm weird and strange and unnatural. I have wings and nobody else does, I'm stronger and smarter than all the other children, and Teacher Osigil always looks at me weird." She whined, words and complaints that had been building up for far too long finally coming free.
Ynanera remained silent, unsure of how to respond to that.
For several minutes, both adoptive mother and daughter remained in brooding silence as they each lost themselves to their own thoughts.
However, when the ice broke, it was by Ynanera's hand.
"Mór-Sidhe." She spoke up suddenly, her voice stern. Ignoring the way her daughter frowned in confusion at her tone, she went on. "Stop being silly." She ordered.
"Mom? What-" Ynanera shushed her with a single hand, before then continuing on.
"You're right. You're stronger and more intelligent than your peers, and you're also different." She acknowledged. "But do you think those are bad things?" She demanded.
"I... Maybe?" Mór-Sidhe murmured in a small voice, looking unsure.
"Well, they're not." Ynanera firmly said. "You might not look like a proper Aeldari, my daughter, but that means nothing, because as far as I care, you are and always will be my daughter."
Both of them fell silent after that proclamation, Mór-Sidhe staring at her mother in awe and relief at her words, and Ynanera because she honestly wasn't sure what else to say.
However, it didn't last long. "... Mommy?" Sidhe spoke up, meeting Ynanera's eyes with her own. "I love you lots."
Ynanera smiled, letting out a small laugh. "I love you too, baby girl."
Following this incident, Mór-Sidhe's decision on what to do would influence her future paths in life. As such, she chose to...
[] Prove herself to the other children
[] Bottle it up and tough it through
[] Rush through her classes and try to finish them as fast as possible
[X] Ask her mother, the clan Lore keepers, or anyone else who knows any tales about the deeds Eldanesh performed on behalf of the Aeldari Pantheon. These tales can be burned into a game where some of the children take on the roles of the various pantheon members to give tasks to whomever is playing Eldanesh, and as the maker of the game Mor-Sidhe will naturally play Eldanesh for the first game. Make sure to run the idea past Teacher Osigil for feedback as it is their class, and be prepared to include some errors in the proposal if that is necessary to get the class to listen to the rules of the game.
You were not like the other children, and you likely never would be.
It saddened you to think so, but such was the undeniable reality. For example, whereas the other kids would struggle to learn all the runes necessary for the many dialects of the Aeldari language, you were able to master them in less than a month.
And, considering just how bloody complex said runes were, that was saying something.
If it had just been that, then perhaps it wouldn't have been so bad. The other kids would have been annoyed at being overshadowed so easily, but would likely have gotten over it.
But, again, that wasn't it, because to you, everything came easy.
Swordplay, mathematics, history, theology, military theory, animal husbandry, agriculture, archery, gymnastics, dragon-riding... There was not a subject where you didn't excel, not one where you came in first by a mind-boggling margin.
(Well, there was one, but you weren't all that sure if friendship-making could really count as a skill or not)
All of that, plus your very obvious physical mutations, meant that your time in the school so far had been a very, very lonely experience.
But now, as you marched into the classroom with your head held high and wings ticked neatly across your back, you knew that today that would change! Hopefully!
Teacher Osigil briefly raised his head from where he'd been busy writing on a scroll, giving her a side glance of acknowledgment before getting back to work.
But that was okay. You knew that he wasn't wholly comfortable with your presence, but even then he'd never treated you unfairly or poorly.
In fact, you were pretty sure the reason for his discomfort was that he just wasn't sure how to handle you. But, again, you weren't fully sure. Your soul-sensing wasn't quite up to snuff yet.
Idly noticing that you were the first one to arrive today, you quickly made your way over to your assigned workstation, all of your old projects still neatly organized atop and around it.
You smiled slightly at the sight. For all that some of the other kids preferred to run around in the playground and do more mental activities, you personally really enjoyed using your hands like this.
Granted, you also loved said mental activities just as much, so maybe that didn't really count.
"Mór-Sidhe?" Teacher Osigil called out, startling you and drawing your attention back over to the man, who'd put down his quill so that he could wholly focus on you.
"Yes, sir?" You respectfully asked, a little bit surprised that he would speak to you before class started.
You liked the man, but you also knew that he didn't like being bothered before or after class, usually ditching you and the other kids as soon as he could every time.
His lips pursued as he stared at you for a few moments, his body remaining relaxed and neutral even as his soul shifted unsurely and even a little uncomfortably.
Finally, he spoke. "I heard that you've got something planned for after class." He said.
You very pointedly didn't let your spirits get down, even as a sense of impending doom fell upon you. You knew he wasn't your biggest fan, but surely he wouldn't... "I do, sir. I made up a new game yesterday, and I already talked to the overseer about it, and she said that it was okay..." You trailed off as you realized that you were rambling, giving the teacher a somewhat awkward smile.
He nodded in approval. "I see." He said, his fingers tapping against his desk. "I have no duties to tend to this afternoon." He continued saying, his discomfort rising. "As such, I will be free to supervise you kids."
Your body went completely still, your head tilting to the side as you fully turned to face Teacher Osigil, focusing the entirety of your attention upon him.
His soul was bright, weathered by age and experience but still holding a shine to it that many of the truly old people lacked. He wasn't a trained psyker, not like the healer, chieftain, and some of the warriors were, but even then you could see that he'd dabbled a bit before eventually giving up.
You looked closer, feeling your own soul briefly flaring up as you did, and just like that, you understood.
Osigil was feeling a strange mixture of irritation, anger, and guilt, but none of it was directed at you. No, it was directed at himself, for he felt that he wasn't a good enough teacher for you.
You realized, then, that you had gotten it all wrong. Osigil wasn't uncomfortable around you, he was just unsure. He didn't quite know how to handle you, and this was him finally deciding that it was time to truly try, even despite knowing that you likely wouldn't remain under him for much longer.
You blinked, your soul-sight fading even as a wide, happy smile formed on your face, your body relaxing as it did. "Of course, Teacher Osigil. I look forward to it!" You cheerfully said, giving him a firm nod.
Osigil's blinked a few times before slowly nodding, looking a bit stunned for some reason. Still, he smiled hesitantly at you before getting back to work.
Your heart felt warm and fuzzy as you copied his example, turning to your workstation and quickly getting to work as well, deciding to finish yesterday's project of trying to map out the schematics for a broken shuriken thrower so that you could eventually repair it in the future once you got more practice.
And even as the other children started trickling in over the following ten minutes, that warmth never faded, even as that meanie-head Telmia gave you a haughty eye, which you returned with a stuck-out tongue.
You were so gonna get her back after this!
"Halt!" Teacher Osigil barked out, and you went still. "Thrust!" He called, and you danced forward, sword flashing through the air as you swung it gracefully.
"Harder, Tamriel! Put your back into it! Fansen, what in Khaine's name are you doing!? You're acting like an overweight Grox! Start over! Telmia, slow down, you're losing cohesion. Mór-Sidhe, good job, keep it up." Teacher Osigil continuously critiqued, flickering through the playground as he adjusted stances with light pushes as all of you went through today's stances.
For your own part, having mastered all the stances already, you decided to make it a bit harder for yourself.
Closing your eyes, you hopped up on a single foot even as you allowed your right arm to flop, acting as though it'd been incapacitated. Then, you repeated the stance, this time trying to do it even with your self-applied handicap.
Unsurprisingly, you succeeded. Still, considering that you almost fumbled the last few dances, there was certainly room for improvement, something that left you feeling pretty satisfied.
After all, learning was fun, so knowing that there was still so much more to learn only made you happier.
"Impressive, Mór-Sidhe, now stop acting like a one-legged Jokaero and start the next exercise." Teacher Osigil said, causing a bright-red blush to form on your face as you quickly did as told.
Finally, around an hour later, the class finally came to an end. You sighed happily as you went through the post-exercise stretches, not really needing to look at Teacher Osigil for clues anymore as he went through with them as well since you knew them all by heart.
You didn't really need it, and neither did the other kids, but Teacher Osigil insisted that it was a good habit to get into early. While all Aeldari had incredibly flexible bodies, that didn't mean that exercise couldn't improve their natural abilities yet further.
"Good work today." Teacher Osigil said as the last kid finished up her stretches. "You're all improving so fast, and it makes me truly proud." He praised, causing more than a few puffed-up chests, which you might have been a part of.
Then, finally, the much-anticipated words came. "You're all free for the day. Have fun."
Squeals and happy cries erupted from the gathered children as you all run off toward the playground, quickly breaking off into separate cliques as you did.
You, of course, weren't a part of any of them. B-but that was okay! Today that would change, you reaffirmed to yourself. You had the best plan ever, and that meanie Telmia would eat dirt!
A dozen seconds later, you were the first to arrive at the playground. There, you waited as everyone else arrived, but before they could disperse to go play their separate games, you called out in a loud voice.
"Does anyone wanna play Eldanesh the Hero?" You spoke. Predictably, the name of the game immediately drew a lot of attention.
"What's that?" One of the younger kids asked, both he and his friend stopping before you with curious looks on their faces.
"Well, it's like Kill the Orks, but better!" You bragged. "The rules are like this, we get to choose if we play as Eldanesh, Isha, Khaine, Vaul..." You explained, intentionally keeping it simple so that everyone could easily understand it.
And, just as you'd hoped, as your explanation continued you started drawing more and more people kids to you, and before you even knew it, you were surrounded by six eager children, listening intently to you as you explained the details.
There was still hesitation, you knew. However, with both Fansen and Telmia playing together off to the side, nobody was there to rally the kids against you.
And so, to your joy, the first game began.
"What are you guys doing?" Telmia asked, watching with a frown on her face as you were forced to walk with your hands only from the current Vaul player to the Isha one.
"We're playing Eldanesh!" You cheerfully told her as you finished the challenge, tensing your arms before pushing off, twisting mid-air so as to land on your feet.
"Yes! Good job, Sidhe!" The Isha player cheered, even as the Vaul one huffed in irritation at losing points.
"Oh," Telmia said, looking a bit put off as she looked around, watching as the two separate 'courts' of children gathered, quickly deciding for the next challenges to give to you as the Eldanesh player. "Can... Can I play too?" She asked, looking at the nearest kid.
Who, much to your amusement, merely shrugged. "Ask Sidhe. She's the one who made the game." He said, pointing at you.
Your amusement, however, was suddenly cut short as a look of absolute dejection appeared on Telmia's face. "Oh." She said in a small voice, glancing at you. She sniffed, quickly looking away before walking off.
You'd expected to... Well, you weren't sure what exactly, but suddenly, your comments about wanting her to eat dirt didn't feel so good anymore.
Before you even knew what you were doing, you spoke up. "You can play if you want." You said, causing Telmia to come to a halt. "We still need a Kurnous for the Asuryiani team."
Telmia whirled around, looking at you with both suspicion and a hopeful look. "Really?" She said, sounding incredibly surprised. "I can?"
You understood her surprise quite well. She'd been your main... Not 'bully', per se, but definitely detractor. So, for you to allow her to play was... unexpected, to say the least.
But, even then, you smiled and nodded. "Yeah! Come on, I'll tell you the rules while the two courts decide my next challenges. Come on!" You cheerfully told her.
You weren't sure if what you were doing was a good idea, but even then, as a hesitant, happy smile appeared on Telmia's face, you felt as though your heart suddenly felt so much lighter.
As you started eagerly explaining the rules to your (hopefully) not-detractor-anymore, you never even saw it as a distant figure observed you with a surprised but satisfied tilt to their lips.
Having successfully integrated herself with the other children through the power of children's games, the next event that would influence Mór-Sidhe's life was a much less benign one. Eight months into her life, she...
[] Had to fight and kill a deadly predator to save her mother's life
[] Stumbled upon a fight to the death between two dragon-riders
[] Was forced to defend herself from Drukhari seeking to spirit her away
[X] Was forced to defend herself from Drukhari seeking to spirit her away
There is the standard Dark Eldar warning, so expect extreme gore and sadism. You have been warned.
You were so excited about this!
"Is everyone ready?" Teacher Osigil asked, eyes flickering between the various children present, all of whom had dressed up in their finest gear and donned their best armaments, you included.
"Yes, Teacher!" You all chanted obediently, many of your fellow youngsters practically hopping up and down in their eagerness.
Although, you mused idly as your teacher went through a final round of inspections to ensure that nobody had forgotten anything, maybe saying 'fellow youngsters' wasn't really accurate anymore.
In general, the age range for your class was... varied, with the youngest technically being you at eight months old, to the oldest being the fifteen-year-old Fansen, who would likely be graduating soon.
However, there was just one problem with that, and it was the fact that you were growing up far too fast.
After all, you had the body of a 12-year-old Aeldari this soon into your development, and you also knew that your mind was maturing far faster than was natural.
Which... Kind of left you in a conundrum. Were you younger than the others based on your true age, or were you older than them based on your mental faculties?
"Alright, good job, kids." Teacher Osigil's words tore you out of your own musings, bringing your attention back to him. "Let's go." He said, opening the classroom door and allowing you all to stream out.
You were the fourth one out, head held high as you marched through the recently-built camp that had only been set up a few weeks beforehand, following your tribe's latest migration.
Around you, adults watched in silence as your class marched toward your latest trial, one which some of you had done before, and some had not: Survival Training.
"Alright, everyone." You were the first to speak as Teacher Osigil vanished into the forest. He had already said that he would only observe during this exercise, and only intervene should one of you be in mortal peril. "We need someone to build us a shelter for the night, someone to get some food, and someone on the lookout for predators. Any volunteers?"
"I'll build." One of the youngest kids answered, her smile somewhat shaky as she stuck close to you.
"Me too!" Another one offered, and you nodded at the both of them even as your eyes flickered over to the rest of the kids, eyes furrowing as you watched them dither on whether to stick by you or go off on their own.
Hopefully, they'd decide to stay with you. Groups were strong and individuals were vulnerable, after all. Still, you weren't about to force anyone into making that decision.
"Right. Give me a moment, I'll scout out from the skies and see if there's a good spot." You said, receiving a few nods in response.
Your heart fluttered in happiness for a brief moment at the acknowledgment that most of the other children had already acknowledged you as one of them, but you quickly quieted it down as you stepped away, your wings flaring out as you did.
You still remembered your first flight only a month or so again, when you'd judged your wings to be ready to carry you aloft. It had gone poorly, of course, ending up with you crashing into the ground in an ungrateful heap, but like hell had you given up.
And now, as you lowered yourself, legs tensing and eyes sharpening, you felt more glad than ever that you had never given up and instead stubbornly continued practicing.
Because, as you lept upward, your wings giving a mighty beat alongside your jump, you knew that the sky was where you truly belonged.
Your wings beat again and again, carrying you upward even as you gracefully twisted your body into the best flight position you had figured out so far, your soul unconsciously flaring as it helped you both lighten up as well as keep your balance.
Finally, once you were several hundred meters above the ground, you stopped, hovering in place with a beaming smile on your face as the wind caused your hair to rise and shake like a flag, whipping about behind your head.
Still, you had a job to do. You could play another time when the other kids weren't relying on you. Thus, taking a deep breath, your eyes started scanning the area.
It wasn't a familiar one yet, not like the area back at the old camp had become, but that was no big deal to you. You took note of the trees, rivers, rock formations, vegetation, possible wildlife, and advantageous locations... Basically, everything that could be of use was examined carefully.
After all, the first rule of the nomadic life was to know your surroundings, as you'd been repeatedly taught.
Then... You paused, your head whipping toward something that was coming toward you at extreme speeds.
Your instincts flared up, time seemingly slowing down as your mind shifted gears. With a single, mighty beat of your wings, you shot yourself sideways, only barely dodging the thing as it barreled right through where you'd just been.
Your twin hearts thundered in your chest as your eyes locked onto the four people atop the strange thing, and despite yourself, you couldn't help but do a double-take.
Because this was no titan-bird seeking easy prey. No, these were Aeldari, and they were wearing skulls as though they were ornaments!
And then, time ran out, as you were forced to pull another two desperate dodges as two more of those strange crafts barreled past you, the haunting laughter of those riding atop them resounding in your ears.
"Who are-" You were forced to cut off your question, twisting mid-air to evade as one of the Aeldari whirled around, pointing a bone-adorned blaster at you and firing several volleys of some strange, black matter toward you.
No time to think. No time to plan. Only action mattered, and your wings beat furiously as you shot across the skies erratically, dodging the three crafts as they sought to either turn you into chunky salsa by ramming into you or to burn a hole through you with their weaponry.
Thankfully, however, you were not weaponless, something that you proved as, with a single smooth motion, you deflected one of the dark bolts away from you using your power sword, your weapon fizzling dangerously from that action.
Your eyes flickered around, constantly taking in the three aircraft as they made pass after pass at you, never remaining close enough for you to do anything but evade, working together seamlessly to harry you, each time coming closer and closer to their goal.
You did not know who they were. You did not know why they were attacking. You did not know how to fight mid-air. You knew almost nothing.
But it did not matter, as you fought anyways, surviving their attempts again and again, turning killing blows into mere glancing ones, which you knew would heal nigh-immediately.
Then, just as you felt your attackers grow frustrated, you sprung your trap.
Just as one of the aircraft went for yet another pass at you, your free hand shot down to your waist, withdrew the shuriken pistol you'd very pointedly kept hidden, and took aim at the extremely fast-moving enemies.
One shot, and it hit one of the Aeldari in the shoulder. Another shot, and it hit the second Aeldari in the arm, causing him to yelp in pain and drop his weapon, which had just been about to be fired at you.
Then, it was too late, as the craft sped past you, and you were forced to resume dodging for your life.
However, now, it was different. With one craft severely hampered, and with you rapidly learning the ins and outs of this new type of combat through this trial of fire, your attackers soon found themselves being forced to act much more carefully, as your masterfully-aimed shots and perfectly-calculated maneuvers kept them at a cautious distance.
Your eyes briefly spotted the hampered craft as it stopped a few hundred meters away, the two uninjured Aeldari snarling in fury at you. Then, to your surprise and horror, they did something that you would never have imagined anyone doing.
They kicked the injured Aeldari off of the craft.
The two Aeldari- a man and woman, both of whom looked younger than your mother- screamed as they fell, terror and fury filling their voices.
You shot toward them, eyes wide, fully intent on trying to save them, but it was of no use, as the two fully-staffed aircrafts took the opportunity to pull a dual ram-attack, passing by mere inches from each other as they barreled toward you from opposing directions.
You whirled in place, pushing yourself upward and flipping yourself over as you did all the while taking aim with both sword and pistol, resulting in you being just above the two crafts as they passed over you.
And, as eight sets of eyes met your own, all of them stunned at the maneuver you just pulled, you... hesitated.
Your pistol remained trained on the head of one Aeldari, your sword ready to cut through another of your enemies. However, even with that, you found yourself stilling your hand, guessing that injuring these Aeldari would result in the same fate as the previous two.
And so, the opportunity slipped through your finger as both crafts left your range a moment later, their riders cursing and screaming in annoyance as they did.
You grit your teeth, readying yourself for the next attacks, your body tenser than it had ever been even as every scrap of knowledge related to fighting you ever gathered flickered through your brain.
But... In the end, it proved unnecessary, as no concentrated attack came.
Instead, to your immense horror, you watched as the two fully-manned crafts, acting in perfect unison, suddenly turned their crafts downward, aiming straight toward where you'd taken off from.
And also where your fellow classmates were still likely waiting for you.
"NO!" A scream tore its way out of your throat, and you tried to dive after them, your very soul screaming in concerned fury.
You were blocked, however, as the last remaining craft charged you, its driver grinning sadistically even as the last-remaining shooter aimed at you.
You were forced to stop your descent, twirling away from their latest charge, teeth grinding violently as you did.
Seconds passed as though they were hours as you desperately tried to descend, only to be stopped at every turn by the dangerous aircraft, which was no longer even trying to truly hurt you, but rather simply keep you from reaching your friends.
Your fury and desperation grew with every second as a feeling of impending doom filled your heart, and somehow, you knew that your classmates were in horrifying danger.
And, sure enough, faint, terrified screams started coming out from below you, and your eyes flickered downward, somehow managing to look through the canopy of trees that had been previously shielding what had been happening.
And you saw.
Teacher Osigil lay in a bloody heap, one arm ripped off and his chest a smoking ruin. Fansen, the oldest and surliest of your classmates, screamed in terror and agony as a barbed hook was driven into his back, dragging him over to one of the laughing attackers.
Their crafts remained aloft just above the ground, their drivers ready for a quick getaway as the shooters fell upon your classmates, who screamed and ran and tried to fight, none of which worked.
Tamriel, the girl who had swiftly become a hesitant but not reluctant friend, cried and struggled as she was grabbed by the leg by a crazy-eyed attacker, who then drew her sword, and started to literally cut off her clothes, leaving deep cuts into her skin as she did.
But worst of all was the youngest of them, the one who had volunteered to help build the shelter.
Because, as your eyes flickered over to her, you watched as an attacker casually flicked out a horrifying-looking blade, grinned widely, and then started skinning her alive.
A scream of pure rage tore its way out of your throat, wrath coursed through your veins, and a golden-red tint overtook your vision.
Your classmates were in danger. They needed you.
You had to protect them.
"Get out of MY WAY!" You roared, your eyes throbbing as the world slowed to a meager crawl.
Suddenly, the hellishly-fast craft that even you had slight trouble keeping track of didn't look anywhere near as fast anymore, something that the two-man craft's driver swiftly learned as you nailed a shot into his head as he dared try and stop you, causing the craft to spiral away from you.
Things had been easy to analyze before. Movements, expressions, wind currents, twitches, angles... They had always been pretty easy to predict.
Now, however, they were downright effortless.
Around you, a corona of golden fire grew as you plunged downward, screaming all the while. Your soul shrieked along with you, and with it, so did reality itself.
As you broke through the canopy, the trees moved seemingly of their own volition so as to allow you quicker passage. The ground rumbled and the air trembled at your fury, and the fire trailing after you caused you to look like a falling comet, come to deliver salvation and justice.
The attackers had a fraction of a moment to realize what was happening before you landed.
All thoughts of mercy had fled your mind by now as landed feet-first upon the back of the monster that had been skinning your friend, shattering his spine and driving a fist into his head hard enough to explode it like a stomped-on berry.
"STOP!" You roared furiously, not just with your voice, but with your very soul.
The attackers reared back, suddenly realizing that you'd arrived. Their pupils tightened into pinpricks as they whirled around to face you, stunned and surprised in equal measure.
Around you, children cried in terrible pain, some not even having the strength left to do so, their torturous wounds too terrible.
In that order, the dark elder here seemed stunned enough not to react immediately and that burst of power and our caring nature would probably make sure their stabilized first and to do so fast.
