One Last Talk, One Last Mercy - Kindness till the End
They bound him in chains, as if the metallic fetters would truly hold him. He stood bare, his armor stripped from him and the transformations granted by the Gods were proudly displayed while his foes recoiled in disgust. He was their prisoner, he was their enemy and they knew why. Yet the knowledge given was not enough to sate the curiosity and desire for the truth of why they had fallen.
Rumors and half-explanations were bandied about as they stood watch over him, guarding both him and their brothers from him. How could the knowledge they held be so wrong as to blind them from the truth? He could see their desire for it. The burning torturous desire to know, to understand like he once had. Yet for all the desire he knew laid buried beneath the surface of these stoic guardians they did nothing to quence it. No torture to pry from his mouth the reasons for his Primarch and Legions betrayal. No questions regarding it. Merely platitudes and quiet gestures of pity, as they asked him learnt who he was and who he had been before this time.
These noble scions of Valhalla, of Dorlin had asked after him. Never torturing him, merely staying silent as he began his sermons of the Gods. Where others, including his own would have starved the prisoner they'd taken these gentle souls ensured he was fed and hydrated, not allowing him to suffer. No poisoned food, no radioactive water. Nothing. No tricks, no traps. And it bothered him.
There seemed to be no rhyme or reason behind their motivations, nothing that would allow him to understand the kindness expressed to him. His thoughts turned towards the captivity, how long he would be held. How long till they executed him as he knew was coming? Perhaps that was why they kept him so well. The 11th was never known for needless cruelty, rather for their compassion. Chuckling to himself, the Word Bearer mused, perhaps that would be how he convinced them to see the light. To understand the truth like him, through their terrible compassion. Let them understand like we did the folly of the False God, and the eternal glory of the Four. Groaning at the slight pain the chuckling had caused Lorgar's son thought back to his capture. Of how they had managed to ambush the Word Bearers at Sakini I.
They had been there for their Primarch demanded them to aid the Death Guard who were reclaiming the planet for Nurgle. It had been a simple task, the Planet woefully unprepared like so many others for their own to have turned against them. And as they made planet fall, as they began to convert the planet to what it had once long ago been on the road to becoming - they appeared. The Eternal Wardens, the eternal foes of Chaos and the Word Bearers. Perhaps the real reason why Lorgar had sent them here, to destroy Dorlin's realm. To turn it all against the bastard.
With the arrival of the Wardens, their success had come to an end. Expecting an easy victory like they had managed to achieve with so many unprepared foes, they were caught off guard by the ferocity and effectiveness of the Wardens. Where other Legions had cried out and been confused by their attacks, the 11th had taken it in stride merely continuing on forwards against them. Through warp-fire, bolter shells, and chanting their hated foe marched onwards nothing touching them and all before them falling back.
In the end, it had been both the Death Guard and the Word Bearers sent fleeing from the planet, retreating and falling back in the face of such an effective force. Neither had been prepared to face the 11th Legion. And as they tried to retreat, to flee from them it had been him, Geras that had fallen. Captured by the enemy during an inopportune ambush. His brothers and him, laid low by some basic traps they should have seen coming. Upon finding the half-dead Word Bearer, they had dragged him out and away from the corpses of his brothers. Back to their entrenchments. Back to their lines, where had been imprisoned ever since. Though the questions burned at them, they had yet to ask. Yet to learn.
The sound of the door opening had him looking up from the ground he stared at. The sight that greeted him was not one he was expecting, for before him stood Kesar Dorlin, Primarch of the 11th. His vision was filled with the bulk of the Primarch, his presence filling him with awe, yet peace. It seems they did not lie, he thought. Truly the presence of Dorlin brings to you a sort of everlasting peace, reminiscent of the halcyon days before all… Shaking his head in vain, the Astarte glared at the child of the Emperor. He would not stand for the false peace of a false emperor.
The Primarch's inhumanly beautiful face merely looked saddened by the display. Moving forward, the Primarch brought the cup he carried up to Geras's lips. "Drink," he urged with concern filling the air, somehow becoming palpable.
Scowling at the kindness and concern, the Marine leaned forward and drank deeply, allowing the Primarch to hydrate him. "So," Geras says, as the Primarch pulls the cup away. "You've come to question me?"
"Yes," admits the demigod, his eyes having never left the Astartes. "I've come to question Geras, Son of Lorgar."
Throwing his head back, the bald Marines laughed. "Then speak," he growled out as he stared at the hated foe. "So I may answer."
"Why," began the Primarch.
His question one Geras had known was coming. How many had asked that same question? How many more would ask it before the False Emperor died as Horus illuminated the truth of the universe for all of Humanity? The question was hardly unique, Geras had heard it spoken many times before starting at Isstvan where everything had begun. Yet this time, something was different about it. Where confusion then hatred had ruled the emotions of those asking, this time sadness - pity, and merely a desire to understand was all he could feel.
"Did you join my brother in his fall?" Finished the Primarch, no hatred nor anger crossing his face. Just that eternal look of sadness and pity.
Huh, was all Geras could think. Why had they turned on the Imperium? Why they sought to destroy what they created? All of those whas what he expected. But not this.
"Geras, son of Lorgar. I ask again," the Primarch stated his expression unchanging. "Why join my brother in his fall?"
"The False Emperor has blinded you," stated the Word Bearer as he began his tell. "His lies occlude your mind and hide the truth from you and all who follow him. We have learned that truth. We have seen past the light and know the truth."
"And how has the Emperor blinded me, Geras?" Asked the Primarch, his expression still remaining as if it had been cast in stone.
"He's betrayed us all," began the Astarte. "We witnessed that on Monachria when he destroyed all we did for him. When he forced us to kneel before him, and watched him destroy all we accomplished. We saw the truth then."
"And that is how he betrayed all of us?" Question Dorlin, his voice a whisper.
"Nay," proclaimed Geras. "That is not the only way. For my father walked into the realm of Gods and learnt the truth, the hideous secret the Emperor failed to hide. The Emperor is no God, he is merely a man for we've seen the true Gods. The destruction they plan to bring upon us for our sins. The Emperor guides us away from their light, and they plan on punishing us for following."
"So they plan to punish us, and yet there is no salvation - no forgiveness for our sins." Stated the Primarch as he stared at the Marine before him.
"No," he shouted excitedly believing that the Primarch was understanding the truth. "They offered us a chance, a way of penitence to show the Gods that we were worthy of being saved from our sins."
"And what is that way, son of Lorgar?"
"Repentance comes with multiple parts," Geras said happily as he talked to the Primarch. "First we were to go forth and protect the servants of the Gods, ensuring their safety and allowing them to thrive in this harsh galaxy made all the more harsher by the False Emperor. Second we were to spread their word, allowing all to know the truth that the Emperor hid. With more following the Gods yet again, humanity would be protected. Our species safe from the ruination they thought to visit upon us like they did the Eldar who grew too arrogant and far from the truth. And thirdly, we were to bring war upon the Imperium. We were to crush the False Emperor and his forces, delivering the good word to the unwashed huddled masses that cowered upon its planets, fearful of the tyranny the Imperium brought."
"You would save humanity, you thought? Freeing them from the damnation you believe lay ahead?"
"Yes," the Word Bearer nodded. "We would save humanity, allowing ourselves to flourish once more under the Gods' eyes."
"You would save humanity, by killing humanity nephew." Came the Primarch's words. "You believe the four in front of you to be Gods, but by what power and kindness did they show you such."
"Do not tell lies, Dorlin!" The Word Bearer hissed angered by the words of the Primarch. "You speak out of ignorance, even now the False Emperor blinds you. These lies that fill your ears are the reason why we must kill you."
"It is no lie Geras," stated the Primarch calmly with same facial expression. "You believe yourself free of lies, yet all you are fed is them. I told your father this once, 'You have eyes, but you do not see. You have ears, but you do not hear. You have a mind, but you do not think. You have belief, but not faith in the being you so preach.' My words were correct then, and still they remain so. You, my dear Nephew have eyes and yet you persist on fumbling about in the dark, believing yourself to have been blinded by the light of the Emperor when in fact you've never opened your eyes. Your have ears, yet you do not hear the voices calling out to you - screaming and shouting the truth at you, for your ears are clogged with only lies and whispers. You have a brilliant mind, yet it lays unused - tricked by the whispers, believing yourself to be blinded."
"Do not…." Interrupted the Word Bearer, only to be silenced by Dorlin.
"Poor child," whispered Dorlin as he looked upon his nephew. "So full of fire and fury, filled with passion. Yet we both know it is a hollow feeling, a poor substitute for what you so dearly desire. Like your father you lack faith. It is as I said, though you have belief you lack faith in those you preach. When did you give it up I wonder? Perhaps when you were younger? Mayhaps the Burning of Monarchia." Sighing, his eyes full of pity and sadness the 11th Primarch continued on. "I can only imagine the hardships and lies that drove you to this, the pain you suffered. And for that I am sorry child. You're lost in the wilderness, yet proclaim that you've found civilization. You can't see the ocean of corruption, yet you're drowning in it."
"They are no…." the Word Bearer tried to shout, only to fall quiet as Dorlin looked at him.
"Geras," stated the Primarch firmly, even as tears fell leaked from his eyes. A feeling of great guilt sweeping over the Word Bearer at having made such a being weep. "I stare upon you and see weakness." Shifting ever so slowly, the Primarch stood. "You are strong in corruption and taint, yet your soul is weak. Where others stood tall and fast, you fell. The abyss stared at you whispering sweet promises and you fell, believing each one. Unaware that in truth, each promise was merely the beginnings of an even greater lie."
Looking on at Geras, the Primarch continued his speech tears flowing more rapidly now as Dorlin wept for the Son of Lorgar. "I am sorry nephew, that when hardship bore down upon you and when confronted by it, you sold your soul for pain-relief, buying in to the false truths and simple promises uttered. You've made your choice, and your choice has made you. So come now nephew, allow me to illuminate you as to the truth of what you serve and what the Emperor fights against. Death is your fate, but perhaps in death you may redeem yourself and find yourself free of the shackles you've so eagerly cast upon yourself."
