the serpent and phoenix

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/45134017.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: Major Character Death
Categories: M/M, Multi, Other
Fandoms: Warhammer 40.000, Warhammer 40k (Novels) - Various Authors, Horus
Heresy - Various Authors
Relationship: Fulgrim (Warhammer 40.000)/Original Character(s)
Characters: Fulgrim (Warhammer 40.000), The Primarchs (Warhammer 40.000), The
Emperor, Original Elf Character(s), Other Character Tags to Be Added,
Cegorach (Warhammer 40.000), Emperor's Children Legion
(Warhammer 40.000), Sanguinius (Warhammer 40.000), Horus Lupercal,
Rylanor (Warhammer 40.000)
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Aeldari | Eldar (Warhammer
40.000), Imperium of Man (Warhammer 40.000), Primarchs
(Warhammer 40.000), the emperor is a horrible father, Fantasy Racism,
Elf/Human Relationship(s), Elf Culture & Customs, Gay Character,
Canon Gay Character
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2023-02-18 Updated: 2023-04-02 Words: 42,743 Chapters:
7/?
 the serpent and phoenix
by Leothefox8

Summary

What happens when a certain laughing God decides to put matters into his own hands? And
sends a capsule of a demigod of the humans into an aldarie craftworlds.

Notes
See the end of the work for notes
 Silver comet

Fate was a challenging thing; free will versus determinism was something that his fellow
Alderie had debated about since as long as they were created. Tenlyth thought as he used his
staff as a walking stick and crossed into the dome of the sunless meadow that it was an
artificial environment meant to simulate a biome on a planet. There were several of these
across the craftworld, a small mercy for his people who were trapped upon the size vessel as
their home. During artificial daylight, it would have been busy with all those who wanted to
get away from the main heart of the craftworld: those following the path of the painter,
practising their art in a more ‘ natural" biome; young lovers spending a moment away from
their paths; and parents taking the few children of the craftworld to a place where they could
play while their parents watched protectively.

It wasn't for such a reason that he was here several hours ago; he had awoken from a vision,
Tenlyth was a warlock and would consider himself to be truly adept at visions, but this one,
this one shook him to his core. He did not know why, but he knew he had to be at this
specific spot at this specific time. As he looked up at the wraith bone dome, he wondered
why.

His question was answered, almost as quickly as he had wondered—funny how fate could
show itself so quickly. The doom shattered as what seemed to be a meteor fell into the
meadow in a blaze of light and fire. Tenlyth quickly threw up a shield that did not fully
protect him; the flowing robes that swarmed around him were burned and singed, and his
outstretched hand was burned; it was injured but still usable. But the injuries to his robe and
hand were nothing compared to the meadow, at the far ends of the blast, the dead were
burned and turned into ash, getting worse as one’s eyes sought out the centre. Sitting inside
the ring of destruction was a silver capsule that was glimmering.

Tenlyth carefully went towards the capsule, holding his Shuriken pistol to his side, just in
case. The capsule, a design he was unfamiliar with, did not recognize as Aldarie, either of the
old empire or the hundreds of scattered offshoots since the birth of she who thirsts. Even just
thinking of that being—ever hungry and watchful made him shiver. But no, the capsule did
not belong to any of them, nor to any other of the multiple species that made their homes in
this accursed galaxy. The capsule was relatively large and made of incandescent silver, with,
oh, resting upon the capsule's surface, the engraved emblem of a phoenix. Tenlyth reached
out with caution, but quickly recoiled as the capsule opened; inside was a baby, no, too
Mundane for what he saw. Tenlyth had few interactions with the human race, of which this
baby appeared to be a member, giving him the impression that they were uniformly hideous
in fact; he had once had the perilous pleasure of seeing one of their young through a
recording, and that had just cemented his idea. But this baby within the capsule was
unsettlingly perfect No, he had an aura around him that would have surprised even a trained
psychic; he knew right away that this wasn't normal... Yet, as he felt them around the
unsettlingly perfect baby, he had the impression that it wasn't malicious; quite the opposite as
he saw the child open his violet eyes, which, despite being mankind's too-small eyes, seemed
as natural to him as Aldarie's eyes. His hair was already coming in a colour reminiscent of
silver under the moonlight
Tenlythgently examined the child he had picked up. The rest of his body was naturally
perfect. as if carved by a master sculptor, who has spent every year of his 10,000-year
existence doing nothing but perfecting his craft. This was not what he was expecting when he
received the vision. His mind began to race as his gaze was drawn to the phoenix emblem on
the capsule. The phoenix was a secret animal of Asuryan; this couldn’t have been a
coincidence, right? He sighed as he gently held the baby. It wasn’t screaming. Only looking
at him with some curiosity was not fitting of a baby.

His moment of almost reverence was quickly shattered as he heard movements around him.
He quickly turned around and saw several aspect warriors all donning their war masks and
approaching, appearing ready for battle. Aspect warriors still unnerved him; they were a very
new invention of the craftworld cults of Khaine, founded by the Phoenix Lords.

" Peace siblings!" He said calmly, fighting the urge to be afraid.

One of them, the exarch, looked at him and the child in his hand. "Craftworld systems
signalled entry and breach into this dome, and you're standing with... They paused, which
was something he had never seen an Exarch do before. " By khaine, what is that?" They
asked as the aspect warriors had a similar expression. Tenlyth quickly explained the situation.

" I need to get to the council seer; will you accompany me?" He asked a little pleadingly.

The exarch nodded. " Of course!" They said as they began to exit the dome, "And bring the
capsule! Tenlyth yelled. The tower of dreaming visions stood in the heart of the craftworld's
populated urban area; it was the planet's tallest structure, almost preaching the dome that
engulfed it all. And it was the seat of the master seers—there were four of them before the
fall. Although that was not saying too much, it only happened around 300 cycles ago! They
all quickly entered and requested an immediate conference with the council. It was quickly
granted, as they were just as worried about the supposed breach.

Tenlyth had seen the council room several times; the first was when he requested to begin his
training as a seer, but it still took a part of his breath away every time he saw it. Although for
some reason, this time was minimized, he did wonder if it had anything to do with this
perfect child he was holding. The child, for his sake, seemed relatively impressed by it as he
looked around.

"Tenlyth? What have you brought us?" Elsaya is the second eldest seer. She frowned slightly;
she was the one who had sponsored his inclusion on the path of the seer, always claiming that
he had great potential.

" Those who see beyond what I may see!" he said. "I received a vision, nothing too obvious;
actually, it was less like a vision and more like a precognition that I had to be at the dome of
the sunless meadow," he said, bowing to them and clasping his burned hand to his chest, as
the other held the boy. He held up the child, who looked at the seers with interest, trying to
understand what they were saying.

The other farseers crowded around Elsaya, each examining the boy. "He’s too," Farseer
Losetn said, frowning, and despite not finishing the sentence, everyone within the room knew
what he meant to say.
" perfect?" "Yes, despite being a monkigh... his form and appearance do not appear to be a
part of those hideous people," Tenlyth inquired.

"Not just that… Tenlyth, there's this aura of greatness around him... It’s impossible to
ignore!" simply says Losetn

" Yes, you're right," Ysenæ said, frowning as she examined him. "Could it be a trap?" Her
words were heavy around the room, voicing a suspicion that each of them had in the back of
their minds.

" Surely if this was a trap, you don’t think that they would have sent an Aldarie? instead of
whatever this is?" Tenlyth quickly added.

Perhaps. "No matter; for the time being, their aura, despite the awe and perfection, does not
appear to be as obviously malicious as a daemon's would be," Ysenæ said gently. "The bigger
question is: what will we do with him? You mentioned that the capsule had an engraved
phoenix?"

Tenlyth nodded as he gestured to the capsule, "Yes. The symbol of Asuryan."

"Asuryan is dead! Like all our gods killed by the creature our people created in their hubris!"

" No, not dead, a god cannot die. He still exists within the stomach of she who thirsts!" As
they all turned to face a figure resting on a crystal throne, bound to it as his body gradually
melded with it, a dry, aged voice said interrupting the argument . Talrith, the eldest farseer,
said despite his weak form his voice was powerful. The others in the room all ceased their
bickering and bowed to him respectfully.

" Last night I had a similar vision, that of a phoenix descending from the heavens. "Tarped by
humans, but broke free and fell to give our people a new life." He said simply at his words,
the room grew silent as they all looked at the baby who was watching them with equal
interest; despite this child not looking more than a few days old, he seemed to be at least
somewhat understanding them.

" What do you mean?" Elsaya asked, frowning slightly as she looked at her master.

" I think this child is the last gift of Asuryan, although why it takes the form of a human I do
not know!" Talrith says this while leaning back in his chair. "And I also do not know why
young Tenlyth also received the vision, but I do now know he has a role to play in this."

Tenlyth frowned. "What do you mean, oh great seer?" He asked softly, bowing as he
addressed him

Talrith's lips went into a small smile. " You will raise this perfect gift as your son and one of
the Aldarie, although not in body but in spirit and mind." With those words, everyone gasped
slightly

"You... want him to raise the boy as an Aldarie?" Losetn asked as it was known that he hated
humanity even more than the average aldarie. blaming them for the fall. "But it’s a
Monkigh?"

"No. I do not think that he is human, at least not completely. It’s impossible to see while he’s
so young, yet I know that as he ages, it will become more apparent that his perfection isn’t
the single unique feature about him: "His eyes are as violet as amethyst, his hair is as silver as
the capsule Tenlyth had found him in, and I can see that even for a human baby, he is
extremely large for a newborn, more like a young human child. "No, he's different than the
monkigh... something better.” Talrith says

Tenlyth was still in shock at the words that he would raise this child. "You mean... I’ll be his
father?" He inquired quickly, his eyes wide and shaking.

"Yes, in a way. "I'd like you to raise him as if he were your son and guide him, even though
he'll quickly realized how different he is from the others," the eldest chuckled. "Of course,
you are free not to walk that path and to not be his adoptive father."

Tenlyth thought for what felt like a cycle as he looked at the perfect child, whose bright violet
eyes were watching him, most likely also wondering what he was to choose. He had never
imagined becoming a father and bringing in a life that belonged to a dying race, but this child
was not one of the dying races, according to Talrith, he was most likely not even a human. He
thought more about watching the perfect child. " I will take on the role of his father!" He
spoke softly, offering a smile to the baby

The tension in the room dropped at those words as Talrith smiled at him. " He will have all
the birth rights of a new aldarie child, a gift upon itself, but especially this one…" he paused
" do you know what you shall name him?"

"I... don’t know."

" Perhaps a name that is uniquely Aldarie?"

Tenlyth thought for a moment: " Fulæm." He said after a while and then smiling as he
repeated it with more conviction " Fulæm," he said as the newly named Fulæm looked up to
him and smiled, obviously liking his name.

"A fine name," Ysenæ said, smiling at Fulæm.

"It is, but before the celebration begins, we must give him a spirit stone." Losetn gasped
slightly

" You mean to tell me we should waste spirit stones on this creature?" He demanded

" Yes, he is one of our people, all the aldarie must wear one." The eldest one spoke firmly to
Losetn, who nodded slightly, bowed slightly in respect, and held his tongue

Tenlyth took his new, possibly human, son with a soft smile. " Fulæm… the child born of a
silver comet!" The newly named Fulæm let out a chuckle, even for aldarie children who
would usually be crying, yelling, and well acting like a child. Yet this one seemed calm and
intelligent. Tenlyth thought for a moment holding them; were all human children this heavy
—not from fat but from muscles that shouldn’t be there on a child? Yet, despite Fulæm not
being his by blood or race, he knew he would father this child as best he could.

A part of his mind worried about where the child came from, but it could push it to the back
of his mind."

There was always a celebration when a new life was brought into the Craftworld, amhrán
aisling. Whereas, in other races, birth would be considered something mundane only special
that of the immediate family, to the aldarie that made their homes on the planet size void
ships It was something to be celebrated by everyone; it was proof that they were surviving
and that there was still hope that they could return to their former glory one day. In the
coming millennium. it would become common belief that the Alderie people lived quiet
lives, not even daring to do anything that might be considered risky and not even being able
to party for fear of their souls. Simply put, that was a lie. Despite living strict lives and
walking many paths, they were still an aldari, a race of emotions and beauty, they still knew
how to celebrate. Those who walk the path of musicians, gently playing their instruments,
both together and apart, as part of some grand chorus or individual weavers of their songs.

Tenlyth I couldn’t appreciate the musical beauty in front of him as he was trying desperately
to continue to hold onto his newly adopted son Fulæm, the moment the violet-eyed child set
eyes upon the musicians, who had tried to free himself from Tenlyth's arms. Tenlyth didn’t
know that human newborns were that strong, and as his grip was broken, Fulæm fell to the
ground completely uninjured. Tenlyth watched in equal horror and fascination as Fulæm
began to crawl towards a musician playing some sort of chord instrument. Tenlyth was never
the most knowledgeable about different instruments. Despite the fact that his son appeared to
be a complete newborn, Fulæm grabbed one of the stringed instruments that the artist had set
aside in case anyone else wanted to join in and began trying to play.

Well, despite the string instrument being meant for Alderie adults, the newborn was able to
hold it up as if it were nothing and was able to play as easily as crawling appeared to be.
Contrary to what one would expect from a literal newborn, the child began running his
fingers over it and feeling the strong strings of the instrument; he began playing it; he was
extraordinarily talented; soft music began to come from him. Tenlyth knew the only thing
holding him back as he played was his finger, this was insane and beyond normal. The
musician stopped his playing and stepped down, going towards Fulæm in awe and almost
reverence; he was a younger teenager, only around 100 yearly cycles old.

" I heard this was to celebrate a monkigh child that landed, I’ve already heard rumours about
how even the farseers were in shock by him…" The young musician whispered in awe; he
said, "It took me two cycles to learn to play at that level." He said in shock " is he a
monkeigh?" He asked

Tenlyth chuckled, feeling embarrassed. "No, we'll let our eldest seer, Talrith, convince
himself he's not." With his words, the young musician was almost snapped out of his trance.
He faced him and gave a hasty bow.

"My apologies for staring!" He said this while making a simple prostration gesture.
" It's no issue." Tenlyth said as he gave him a gesture of respect with his burned hand " I
know why; Fulæm is incredible."

" What is he?" The young musician asked softly

" We do not know!" Tenlyth said softly, shrugging and looking at his adopted son.

The musician nodded, frowning. "In any case, he seems to have taken a liking to the
instrument." He chuckled

Tentlyth awkwardly nodded, "Yes, I'm so sorry!"

" It's nothing to be ashamed of, I’m happy I got a chance to hear it. He can keep it."

Tenlyth nodded and said, " I appreciate it!" He said, smiling as he picked up the large baby.

In the twisting hallways of the web way, a figure was laughing at a joke that only he knew.
Taking away a champion from the dark prince, one that in her arrogance she willingly gave
up to the anathema for his little project using the souls of gods... His arrogance was only
matched by Slaanesh; she had thought she could get it back in a physical form to serve him
forever. Cegorach couldn’t think of a funnier joke... The laughing god sent the capsule of the
reborn phoenix on a trajectory to Craftworld with a slight touch; despite the hilarity of it all,
it was a bit of a gambit. Either way, it would be fun. The laughing god let out another laugh
"My debt has been replayed... Asuryan, and now you owe me one!"
 cycles go by
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

It had been a year since Fulæm had arrived on Amhrán Aisling, and a year since Tenlyth had
adopted the incredible child. The days after his arrival had been hectic, Tenlyth had to move
into living quarters meant for families, Tenlyth had always thought that he did not own that
many items and lived a simple monastic life, but moving had shown how wrong he had been.
He had given away most of his non-sentimental objects and clothes; it was no issue that
everything he gave away could easily be replaced. They had moved to the tower of young
stars, more colloquially known as the family residence. Tenlyth at first felt awkward, most of
the tower's chambers were vacant; however, the others who made their lives there were all
family couples who spent years trying for a child and were blessed enough that they had the
chance for a spirit stone. He had been certain that those families looked at him with a
combination of enviousness and mistrust, and at his son with the same suspicion and hatred.

Fulæm, on the other hand, grew and grew both physically and mentally over the course of the
year, reaching the Aldarie equivalent of a twenty-seven-year-old according to human experts
and the body of a five-year-old at the age of one. Although his age was incorrect, he was
taller and naturally much more muscular than any of his apparent ages should've been.
Despite not having a day of physical labour in his one-year life, Fulæm was innately more
muscular than most Aldarie adults, yet his muscularity didn’t seem out of place in a perfectly
lean body like a gyrinx. Although Tenlyth has grown annoyed, constantly having to find new
clothes for his growing son.

As Tenlyth entered his living quarters, he smiled softly as he saw Fulæm sitting at the table
and working on some review questions that one of his current tutors had given him. He
moved through tutors quickly. He could seem to grasp and understand any concept within
only a few hours of studying, it was unnerving, even for Tenlyth, who had to admit that. He
moved between tutors, learning everything they had to teach before moving on.

Fulæm heard his adoptive father enter their room and turned to him with a smile; visually, he
had maintained all the perfect qualities that he had when they found him a perfect specimen,
as a medical examiner said. Although there were a few odd things inside of him, he heard
two heartbeats, and upon further examination, he found two hearts, which meant that he in
fact had two independent hearts.

Fulæm hair had begun to grow out; it was long, silvery, and silky, and it was currently tied in
a top knot, a common hairstyle in the craftworld; the only difference was that his style
covered his rounded ears. Tenlyth had often wondered if it was for the sake of fitting in more
within the craftworld.

" Father!" Fulæm said, his violet eyes widening in a little bit of joy at seeing him. He was
gone for most of the day. Most parents would be appalled at the idea of leaving a one-year-
old, or even a five-year-old home alone for a day, but fulæm wasn’t a typical child and had
proven again and again that he could be trusted by himself. "You promised that you’d be back
before the dome began to darken." He said this while crossing his arms. He had begun to
speak only a month after he had been adopted, and fluently not long after that. They were
initially concerned because aldarie was notoriously difficult for humans to pronounce, but
Fulæm mastered it as quickly as he did everything else.

" I know, I promised, and I apologise for breaking it, but something came up," Tenlyth said
with a chuckle as he looked over the work Fulæm was finishing as always; as always, it was
way above what was asked for, and written to the most perfect degree. Fulæm was a
perfectionist in his work, as he was in almost everything he did.

" Still, you promised that you’d take me to where you had found me," Fulæm said, frowning
slightly.

" I know you did, and that’s what we’re going to do; go put your jacket on. "The dome of the
sunless meadow is colder than the living quarters," he said, Despite the fact that he had long
since learned that his adoptive son did not get cold or overheated, he still tried to be a
responsible father.

Fulæm huffed as he grabbed a thin jacket, knowing better than to argue about this. He
frowned slightly as he put it on like most of the aldarie garment. It was flowing and long, but
upon him, it was tight, too tight, in fact, " it seems I’ve outgrown this." he said, frowning
slightly, taking it off. "We replaced it a few months ago..." Tenlyth was well aware that his
son was embarrassed, not because it was difficult to replace, but because of how quickly, and
frankly, abnormally, he was growing. There was also, he had spent a whole day stressing over
which jacket to get, which style, which cut, and which colour, and wanted everything about
his look to be as perfect as possible; now he would have to do it all over again.

"It’s all right, we’ll get you a new one. I'm sure we can get the tailors to replicate that one just
a few sizes bigger." With how often Fulæm had to replace his clothes, they had formed a
friendship with a few aldarie working on the path of the tailor, and they were all happy to
have a consistent customer. Who was always growing quickly with the different techniques
required?

Fulæm nodded, frowning slightly as he ran his fingers along the purple silk of the jacket.
"How many will I go through?" he asked. He asked

" I don’t know!"

Fulæm nodded, biting his lip slightly. as Tenlyth decided to move the subject along. " Did
you sleep any today?" He asked as they began leaving the living quarters. That was another
worrying aspect about his son, the apparent lack of need for sleep; he had gone several weeks
with only a few hours of sleep and seemed no different.

The odd child shook his head. "No," he said simply as they exited the tower. The city's urban
centre was as busy as ever as the twilight hours approached in the dome. Almost everyone
was out enjoying the night. The few cafés that lined the artificial parks were busy as people
had their evening wine imported from an exotic world, perhaps after their outing, they would
stop there, and grab a meal.
Traveling through the craftworld was easy considering the size of the vessel, within only
about 30 minutes, they reached the dome of the sunless meadow. They had done a pretty
good job of repairing it in the year since Fulæm had arrived, thanks to the work of those on
the path of the gardener and service. It was a calm meadow, only lit by the artificial sun
during the day and artificial moonlight at night. Fulæm examined everything around him with
his purple eyes. " You found me here?" He asked

" Not you exactly," Tenlyth said as he pointed to the wraith bone dome that had been
repaired. "A silver capsule came flying down from that spot, and inside it that was where you
were."

Fulæm frowned his mind racing with questions " why?" He inquired.

"Why what?"

" Why was I there?" He asked, frowning and looking at his father, hoping he’d answer all the
questions on his mind.

"Again I do not know. Talrith thinks that you are a gift from the gods, and I intend to believe
him!" He says brushing his adopted son's hair.

Fulæm for his part, only nodded while staring up at the sky.

It had been two yearly cycles since that fateful night, and the incredible child had continued
to grow at an unprecedented rate. The child of two years, and already the size of a human
eight year old, although still a particularly tall and muscular eight year old. In the past year,
Fulæm had tried to socialize with other children but quickly gave up the endeavour as,
instead of friendship, he received only fear and awe from them. And besides, he’d quickly
outgrow them.

Tenlyth had thought about seeing if he’d be interested in group tutoring, but he knew it would
have the same effect as both him running through tutors as he quickly mastered what they
had to teach him, and having to deal with children. It was for that reason that, more days than
not, Fulæm had nothing better to do than wander around the craftworld. He had so quickly
run through all the tutors that were available almost every day. Now he was only able to meet
up with one, once a week to discuss overly complex matters.

Tenlyth knew Fulæm was just counting the days (perhaps lateral days, given his age) until he
was declared an adult and free to walk the paths. But currently, his biggest issue is the
constant boredom.

Fulæm was currently in a common area, a park dome meant to simulate a forested biome, it
was never really busy, which was how he liked it. He was not antisocial, far from it. He loved
to talk and socialise, but he had no one with whom he could, he was far above the children of
his age, both physically and mentally, in both his apartment age and, well, his birth age. Also,
the adults' reactions to him left a lot to be desired; he had noticed and realised the look of
suspicion mixed with awe that they seemed to give him since he was several months old.
Another effect he had on people was that they all seemed to be in awe of him for no apparent
reason, not just for his apparent miraculous ageing but for something else. It was really only
his father who seemed immune to it; he could treat him like he was his own person, not some
kind of... gift from the gods who just happened to be trapped in a monkeigh body.

Monkeigh—if there was one major improvement in the last year, he was no longer referred to
by that name. According to his adoptive people's legends and history, the monkeigh were a
species of sub-intelligent, cannibalistic beasts that tried to conquer the galaxy before being
driven out and exterminated by Elronhir. Despite how people may look at him in the
craftworld, they at least see him as one of their own, even if not physically.

He was currently sitting on a chair in the forest dome, he wouldn't have wanted to get his
outfit stained and dirty. He was currently dressed in a simple violet robe with gold trim. He
had to replace his previous one only a few weeks ago because he outgrew it like he seemed to
do with everything. He was currently sketching on a piece of parchment; his sketch was of a
fortress within a mountain. He had never seen it, but it came to him occasionally in the few
hours he slept.

He frowned slightly as he heard someone breathing behind him. Turning his head, his violet
eyes met solid black, a characteristic shared by all Aldarie. It was a young adult, probably
only starting on his path. The aldarie had long black hair that framed his face.

"Pardon my interruption!" "Are you human?" he asked softly and warmly. He asked as
Fulæm nodded

" I suppose you could call me that!" He said simply he never really considered himself
human as he wasn’t raised among aldarie, and according to everyone, he was physically
extremely different from humans.

The young adult frowned slightly, thinking he had done something bad. "Oh, I’m sorry if that
was rude of me to say!" He gave him an apology gesture.

" It's alright!" Fulæm said simply giving him the gesture of acceptance.

" Still, it was rude of me!" He spoke softly.

"It's no problem; I'm quite used to it," Fulæm said with a small smile. His smile was like the
rest of him—almost unearthly perfect.

"Still, I was surprised to see a human here. "I thought that you were only two yearly cycles
old."

"Technically, I am," Fulæm said, shrugging.

"Oh, I did not know humans aged that fast."

" They don’t; I’m, well, different. According to my father, I'd be about ten cycles for a
human." Fulæm said, shrugging
The other boy nodded. "Oh, okay," he said, offering him a smile and saying, "My name is
Elronhir. "

" Named after the hero?"

" Indeed." Elronhir said, smiling, " your Fulæm correct?"

" Yes."

"Did you inherit that name or was it given to you?"

Fulæm had to think for a moment. Did he have a name before his father found him? Did he
have someone out there who cared about him? If so, why was he found in a capsule on a
separate species' vessel? He thought for a moment: " I don’t think I had a name before my
father found me."

Elronhir nodded, " of course." He said, smiling softly, "Again, I apologise for these questions.
It’s just that you’ve been a mystery to me," he said, bowing.

" You and me both," he said, placing his hand on his chest, feeling the two desynchronized
heartbeats. "They," he muttered, remembering an overheard conversation between his father
and his medical examiner.

" The boy isn’t natural!"

"We knew that already... but that doesn't change the fact that he's my son."

" I know, and I mean no disrespect, but he cannot be natural. He has two heartbeats, and he
has a gland in his mouth that can shoot venom! not to mention how quickly he’s growing.
He'll be fully grown for a human in a few years if he's still human. And I expect that he might
continue to grow physically after that. He was most likely made as some kind of experiment.
that we somehow got a hold of

That was all Fulæm could hear; his breath had become trapped in his lungs and hadn't left
them since that day. His eyes focused back on Elronhir, as he took on a warm and perfect
smile.

" So why are you here?" He asked softly

"Me? Oh, I am on the path of the gardener. It is my duty to take care of this biome. It takes a
long time, but it’s common to work with just me and my thoughts!"

" What route do you take?"

Elronhir took out a visual projection device and showed the younger boy a map of the biome
as he explained how he did it.

" You’re wasting so much time with how you’re currently doing it. You can easily save
yourself time if you do it like this." Fulæm said he had immediately seen the flaws in the
route and came up with a better way.
" Trust me, this is the fastest route. "My master said so!"

"Why don't you try this time and see?" Fulæm grumbled. What is the harm in trying?" He
knew for certain that it would be faster.

Elronhir shrugged as he figured he would humour this odd human child, as there was no way
it could be more efficient than the one they had been doing for years. It was significantly
faster.

Three years now. Fulæm had continued to grow more and more with no signs of stopping as
he reached apparent adolescence. It had begun to become more apparent what he would
become. Fulæm was currently lying almost naked on an examination table, as those on the
path of the healer walked around and examined him.
It had taken quite a bit to convince his adoptive father to let him go through with it, Tenlyth
stood at the side, watching the procedure with focused eyes.

Fulæm for his part, looked vaguely bored through the whole thing. Violet's eyes focused on
what they were doing to his body. The first test was to determine his pain receptors, which
seem to be naturally dull. which was as interesting as it was concerning, considering that
Fulæm could feel tactile sensations. The next thing they tested was how quickly it took for
his wounds to heal. It had started with just a simple cut, but by the time they lifted the blade,
it had already closed up as if the action hadn’t taken place, so they tried again, and again,
each time making the wound slightly larger, with similar results. Fulæm had told them they
could go on, but Tenlyth had quickly put a stop to all that.

"No, I will not have my son opened up and examined as if it were an autopsy!" Tenlyth spoke
firmly

" Father, I can take it," Fulæm said from the table, and he knew he could.

" It's not if you can take it. It’s if I can." His father admitted.

"What do you mean?" Fulæm said, sitting up ever so slightly and turning to look at his father.

"You're my son, and I don't want you to get hurt!"

" That is why they are examining me, to see if I can even be harmed!"

" Why do you want to know if you can? It’s a gift if you can’t."

"Because I want to find out what I am!" Fulæm's voice got sharp and dangerous, a tone never
heard from him before. It was as authoritative as it was sharp, making everyone in the room
back away a few steps as if their minds were trying to understand and process what they were
looking at. Those few thought they had grown used to the miraculous teenager, but were
suddenly shaken.

"Y… you're my son!" Tenlyth spoke after a moment, his voice remaining calm.
" I’m a freak! That’s what I am! "Grown in some sort of lab as a weapon, don’t think I didn’t
overhear you talking!" He said angrily.

" You're my son, my beloved Fulæm who I found in a capsule of silver that had been flung
across the stars. Even if you were born in the lab, I would not care. As long as you let me, I
will continue to be your father."

Fulæm frowned slightly, brushing the silver hair from his eyes as he fully sat up. " Father,
why do you care so much about me?" "You’ve only known me for three years."

Tenlyth had to pause for a moment to reflect. Three years were nothing to him. He was
around 216 years old; Aldarie took a long time to form a relationship, but here he had it in
only a few years. Despite this, he was as attached to him as any Aldarie father would be to
his son. He took a deep breath. "You’re my son. I spent every cycle worrying and thinking
about you. I don’t care that I’ve only known you for three years, you are still my beloved
son!"

Fulæm frowned slightly, but nodded somewhat. " You are my father," he said softly. " I shall
forever be glad that you took me in as a son!" He spoke softly, brushing his ivory-coloured
hair behind his back.

Tenlyth smiled at his son. " If you wish to continue with the examination, you may, as I know
how much you wish to know about who you are!"

Fulæm thought for a long moment. " As much as I do. I believe that they will be able to tell
me anything I don’t already know. "There is nothing to learn by possibly injuring my body!"

Tenlyth let out a small chuckle, despite his son's constant questioning of who he was; he had
always had a sharp tinge of arrogance, ever present. Unlike most arrogance, however, it was
not unfounded; he was as perfect as a human could be, far above peak human condition
already, and all naturally. " Ever so arrogant."

Fulæm didn’t respond, only standing up and putting on his robes, purple with a golden trim
as always. As he finished dressing, he turned to his adoptive father. " Are we heading home?"

Tenlyth shook his head. " No, if you wish we could go to a cafe and grab something to eat?"
He suggested.

Fulæm nodded, thinking, " I suppose! I haven’t eaten in a few days!" The Aldarie themselves
didn't eat much, but Fulæm was almost always different; he often went days without eating,
which was initially concerning, but as he grew at his extraordinary rate, it was clear that it
wasn't affecting him. As they walked to the cafe in silence, they sat down and ordered, and
Tenlyth was the first to speak

" We’ll probably have to move out of the tower of young stars soon!" As Fulæm's eyes
widened, he said simply.

" What do you mean?" He asked as he was sipping on a warm, leafy drink imported from an
exodite world.
"It’s a place for families with children. You won’t be a child anymore in a year or so!"

Fulæm nodded, frowning slightly. "No, I won’t be; when will I start on the paths?" He asked.

"Most likely within a year or two," he said, smiling. " I cannot believe it myself."

Fulæm chuckled while sipping his drink " I am excited to, ever since I’ve grown past the
tutors, I’ve been so bored!"

"What path do you think you’ll follow first?"

Fulæm thought for a moment. "The sculpture... I wish to depict the beauty and perfection I
see all around me!"

" You mean what you see in yourself!"

Fulæm didn’t respond right away, only sipping his drink and having a smirk on his pale face.
" Not necessarily... This craftworld, as much of a beauty as it is, could always be made better;
we should strive for perfection in all things!"

Tenlyth couldn’t help but feel worried about those words, all too common in the history of
the Aldarie

A year passed, and they were indeed forced to move from their living quarters. Moving
would have usually been a challenging action, yet through the year, as fulæm grew more and
more, his strength increased to match. Fulæm, despite being physically the equivalent of an
older teenager, was already physically stronger than every Aldarie upon the craftworld, and
as such, the prideful Fulæm was carrying pretty much the entirety of their furniture and
belongings in one go.

" Are you not going to help, father?" Fulæm asked, not offended by the weight as it was quite
easy carrying it all, but more at his father not aiding him.

"You've got pretty much everything, my son," he said, smiling up at his son, who had grown
a little taller than him at 6 '4", which was short for an Aldarie.

Fulæm huffed slightly as they carried it into the new quarters; despite being physically close
to an adult and having the intellect of one, he had chosen to stay with his father for a few
more years. In his own words, " I will most likely have to move into a bigger room in a few
years anyway!"

It had taken about half the day to unpack, and Fulæm looked at his father. " Is there anything
else I can do?" He asked, as he was currently getting impatient.

"Why?" "Do you plan on doing anything?"

Fulæm shrugged. "No. I just haven’t been in this part of the craftworld often, and I do wish to
see what is around.
Tenlyth offered a smile. "Of course, you may head out!" Fulæm smiled at him; despite being
the one who was most used to Fulæm, Tenlyth was still shaken by the look; it was as if he
were staring into the sun itself, bright and otherworldly; his aura of awe had only grown
worse in the past year.

Fulæm saw the look on his father's face and nodded as he left. The tower that held the living
quarters was mixed with singles, couples, and even just friends who wished to live together.
He wandered for a bit, not caring about where his feet would take him, he knew he’d
remember the way back. He wandered for a long time, thinking, before coming to a halt in a
room he had never seen before.

He looked around. He had the impression that he was deep within the craftworld, and he
could feel the wraith bone covering him for miles. He took a look around the room, which
was round like most Aldarie rooms. Yet that wasn’t what his eyes were drawn to. Instead,
they were drawn to a large brazier in the centre of the room, which was alight with warm
dancing flames illuminating the room, and a bronze statue of a phoenix, its wings raised as if
bellowing a victory call; a temple to Asuryan.

Fulæm gasped slightly, eyes wide, as he, without any conscious will, stepped forward as if
drawn to the flame as a moth to the light. He carefully reached his hand out into the flame.
He gasped slightly; the flame had not burned his skin; it was warm and soothing. He put his
arm in more, covering it in the flame of the brazier.

" It's not often someone comes to worship, and it's even less often that someone sticks their
arm into, Asuryan flame and never has someone come out of it uninjured."

Fulæm frowned slightly, pulling his hand out—it wasn't even singed! " My apologies, I don't
know what came over me." He said this while bowing respectfully.

" No, it’s not your fault." the apparent priest said as she looked at the flame, which was
blazing as bright as ever. "Unless there's another human on the craftworld with white hair and
violet eyes, I'm assuming you're Fulæm." She asked with a smirk

Fulæm chuckled, "The one and only," he said, smiling slightly and fixing his violet cloak.

" It is an honour to meet you, my name is Mesbrae, lost in the past of the worshipper!" She
said, bowing

" The honour is mine, and again I must apologize for barging into this sacred place. I’m not
one of Asuryan's children, I shouldn't be here! He said he was intending to leave, but his way
was quickly blocked by Mesbrae, and she looked at him.

" It's no issue, you are as much a child of Asuryan as anyone else. " Her words were drawn
on slightly.

Fulæm shrugged, "Perhaps!" He simply stated that he was looking around. " I’ve been in
temples before; usually they venerate all of the lost pantheon, but this only has a shrine to
Asuryan."
"That brazier's flame came straight from Asuryan's old temple, back when our people lived
on dirt and stone worlds... return before she who thirsts!"

Fulæm's hand went to the red soul gem on his heart as the mention of the great enemy sent
shivers down his spine. Despite the fact that he was not a physical aldarie, he was certain she
would want to take him, as she had with all of his people. "It's ancient, and it's just here, with
almost no ceremony," he said, shaking his head.

She chuckled, " Most people don’t like remembering what our people lost—gods among
them. It’s mostly just me and the others who want to honour them. They cannot answer
prayers anymore, but they are the very spirit of our people. But even then, I believe they
might even answer prayers in a way that they can! I believe you are living proof of that!"

Fulæm frowned slightly; he had offered to hear that and similar. "A gift from Asuryan!" he
exclaimed, not believing it but voicing what he had heard.

" Perhaps, after you arrived four years ago, even Farser Ysenæ had come to ask for my
advice with you."

Fulæm nodded; he had known of the farseer's interest in him despite never meeting him. "
What do you think I am?" He asked, as he had looked directly at the priest, but as he did, he
saw how his simple gaze almost brought her to her knees, and Fulæm quickly looked away. "
sorry… I don’t know why it’s like that!"

"… It's alright… "Just your gaze... is so overpowering." She took a moment to breathe. "
but… I think you're a gift, and I hope it’s from a god. You can pass through the Asuryan
flame unharmed, that has to count for something."

Fulæm nodded, frowning at " more questions without any... true answers." He looked at the
flame, watching it dance as it lit up the bronze phoenix.

Five years after the fateful night in the dome of the sunless meadows, it had finally been
decided that, despite fulæm being only technically five years old, he was physically,
emotionally, and mentally an adult and, as such, should begin upon his paths. When an
aldarie transitioned from the life of a child to that of an adult, they would go through a
scarification ritual, and a pattern of their choosing would be permanently engraved into their
skin. Although not as barbaric as Saim Hann, Amhrán aisling held to some traditions that
other craftworlds would scoff at; this was one of them.

Almost every adult who had made Craftworld their home had these scars on their bodies.
Most of them were usually kept around the chess-to-leg area and were only rarely visible in
day-to-day life. Every design was unique and was meant to be created by the person who was
receiving the scars, each design could be as complex or simple as they wished. It was meant
to symbolise leaving behind the purity of childhood for the pain of adulthood, which may still
be beautiful in its way.
Fulæm had, of course, spent almost several weeks designing and redesigning what he wanted.
Whenever he thought that he had finished it, he would see some minute imperfection in its
design or its message and start over again.

He had aged and grown quite a bit, becoming a handsome young man with pale skin, high
cheekbones, a small nose, narrowed eyes, and his current height of seven feet tall, which
made him quite an impressive figure, Tenlyth had joked that he was only a few years away
from courtship offers from young men and women.

He was currently sitting at a desk, crouching over in a chair too small for him. Redoing the
design for his scar was scheduled to happen tonight, although he was starting to consider
rescheduling it so that he had enough time to find the perfect design.

He had finally narrowed it down to two designs, one of which involved a serpent wrapping
around his body. A serpent is a symbol of rebirth, shedding its skin, and he was reborn from
his childhood as an adult, shedding his humanity to be accepted as an Aldarie. His second
idea involved that of a phoenix, the symbol engraved upon the capsule he had been found in;
it was interesting as it was another symbol of rebirth. He was fretting over the designs.

" Any luck?" Tenlyth asked upon entering the room where his adopted son was working on
his designs.

"No, not yet. I don’t know how to choose between these two. " His father frowned as he
looked over his shoulder and saw them.

" full body? That’s going to hurt."

"Father, you know I feel no pain!" Fulæm said with a smirk. " The bigger issue is if they’ll
even be able to scar me... I heal so quickly."

Tenlyth nodded. " They will probably need to cut deep; it will probably take some time!" He
then looked at the images. "You know you can combine those two?" He expected his son to
say something about how he couldn't; however, Fulæm purple eyes widened.

"You're right, why hadn't I considered that?" He grabbed another sheet of parchment and
began to redesign it; although he had never received any actual art training, he seemed to
have a natural talent for it, as he did in pretty much everything else that he tried.

Tenlyth smiled at him. " I can’t believe you're already an adult. It’s only been five cycles!"

Fulæm chuckled "I, by all rights, shouldn’t be! Yet whatever made me, also wanted me to age
quickly. I just hope it slows down now." His smile wavered ever so slightly as he said that.
"Not including my size, it’s going to become a challenge if it continues." He was already
having difficulty fitting into most furniture.

Tenlyth frowned. " I don’t expect you to keep ageing!" He said simply.

Fulæm nodded slightly " I hope not!" He said simply as he stood up and stretched slightly, he
realised he had been sitting for a full day cycle trying to design his scarification. The serpent
wrapped around his neck and chest as a phoenix bit down on it, slaying it in a blaze of fire
and glory, according to his design. He knew they would mix ink with the scar, giving it more
definition. Now he had a more difficult decision to make: what to wear—obviously, violet
and gold—but should he wear something loose and flowing or tight and form-fitting? went
over to his closet, feeling the materials for their exact shade, trying to make a decision.

" Wear something loose, you’ll have to take it off!" Tenlyth said to his son correctly, guessing
what was on his mind.

Fulæm nodded, donning his usual elegant, long, flowing violet and gold robe. When Tenlyth
asked why he had only gravitated to those colours since he could choose what he would wear
at the age of several months, Fulæm only shrugged and explained how purple was a perfect
mix of blue and red, and how the bright yellow of gold complimented them so well! He stood
in front of a mirror, brushing his long, silvery hair.

" Father, how do I look?" He asked as he finished dressing himself up, he had braided golden
chains within his hair, and his form was covered in loose-fitting jewellery.

Tenlyth smiled warmly at his son as he hugged him. "You always look perfect, my son, but
somehow you’ve embodied perfection itself today!"

"Father!!" Fulæm said, hugging his father back carefully, being careful not to break all of his
bones. Which he could easily do.

"I'm proud to be your father. I've watched you grow every day for the past five years!
"Despite the blood, a son of mine who came to me within a silver comet!" He said he was
hugging him tighter.

Fulæm didn’t respond as he looked at him, his eyes slightly downturned so that he didn’t
cause the effect.

Tenlyth looked at his son, frowning, as he knew why he hadn’t made eye contact with him. "
I just hope you remember your father. know for a fact that you’ll be something grand in the
galaxy!"

Fulæm frowned, would he? He had thought of it—unifying the craftworlds, taking back their
empires, and defeating the great enemy. But that was a childish fantasy. But here was his
father claiming that he’d be great, and he only nodded.

" Come now," he said softly, taking his son’s massive hand in his. " You've never been late to
anything, and I certainly do not want it to be when you become an adult!"

Fulæm let out a chuckle; it was warm and as glorious as him. " Father, I won’t be late!" He
pulled on a violet cloak. He looked down at him and said, "You know it’s so funny how small
you are!" He joked as they left the living quarters.

" I have a perfectly normal Aldarie height, which I can’t say about you," he joked back.

" I have the feeling my height is perfectly normal for whatever is in Kaine's hand, I am!"
Tenlyth frowned slightly " Now that you're an adult, will you leave the craftworld, to try and
figure out who you are?"

Fulæm frowned; the thought had occurred to him several times, and it had been very
tempting, but he reasoned that doing so would draw attention to his home by whomever or
whatever had made him. " I have considered it as of right now, no."

Tenlyth nodded and said, "Good."

They walked into the general commons; it was a small gathering, mostly of farseers,
warlocks, and some of his former tutors. They all bowed at him as he entered, a tradition to
show they now recognised him as an equal Fulæm returned the bow, a proud grin on his
handsome face.

The ceremony master told him to rise: " Fulæm, born of man and delivered to us from within
a silver comet. taken in by us and reborn as the son of Tenlyth. He who ages as quickly as the
day, whose knowledge is as vast as his strength. Do you swear to walk the paths with
diligence and strength?"

Fulæm nodded. " I do! I promise to forever walk the path with honour and dignity," he said
softly and proudly.

The master of ceremonies nodded. " Then you are ready!" She said simply, she gestured for
him to lie on his back. He did so as he removed his robes, laying almost naked as she and her
assistants began to slowly crave it into his flesh. It had taken so long, so very long, that each
cut had to be redone a thousand times to make it last. It took several cycles, but in the end,
his body had become a work of art, with ink blended within the scar that would change with
the cycles of a day, the phoenix lighting up in gold and red as day broke, and the serpent
lighting up in violet and blue as night broke. Fulæm stood up easily despite spending a long
time on the ground. He went to look into the mirror, feeling his body.

" It's glorious!" He said he was laughing as he saw it. He looked around at his father, who had
stayed for the whole thing to bring him water through it, but he looked exhausted. " Are you
alright, father?" He asked softly, worried about him.

Tenlyth nodded, smiling slightly. "I am son… just tired."

Fulæm nodded, looking a tad worried. " You will probably have to return every once in a
while to redo them. Your skin was like steel, and it wanted to heal itself as quickly as it was
cut." The ceremony master said she and her companions had worked hard on the odd human.
And she certainly did not want it to go to waste by its healing.

Fulæm nodded and said, "That is to be expected!" He said simply, He then turned back to his
adoptive father and picked him up as easily as he had when he had found him "You need to
rest!" He said simply.

Tenlyth tried to respond, but he agreed that it would’ve been best if he didn’t.
Fulæm nodded and said, "That is to be expected!" He said simply, He then turned back to his
adoptive father and picked him up as easily as he had when he had found him "You need to
rest!" He said simply.

Tenlyth tried to respond, but he agreed that it would’ve been best if he didn’t.

Around half a cycle from when fulæm had become an adult. He was carrying a wraith bone
sculpture from his studio, usually, they would have been carried by a team of artists, but as
always, Fulæm had been able to carry it as easily as his fellow artists would have carried their
tools of the trade. He had continued to grow, although he seemed to have stopped ageing, and
was now standing at 9 feet tall with a body to match.

He'd spent nearly every hour of the previous half-cycle working on his sculptures. He had
been instructed to start with smaller statues, but he had soon grown bored with the ones that
he had been instructed to do, so he had just let his inspiration take him. It has been a feverish
state of creation. He had spent almost more time breaking it up to start over than actually
sculpting. Wraith bone was an incredibly malleable material in its unaltered state, and
although fulæm would never reach the level of a farseer or even a warlock, he did seem to
have a small ability to manipulate it, He figured it had been a blessing, as with everything
else in the craftworld, it was required. Aside from that, he had continued to work on his
masterpiece, a statue of a hooded man kneeling with respect, his gaze rising to an aldarie
man, who was holding his hand as if to pull him up. The aldarie man's face was that of
perfection itself, kind, warm, and welcoming. The hooded figure had no visible feature
underneath his hood, although he had moulded it so that in the correct light it cast only a
silhouette of a face in a smile.

It was supposed to represent his father accepting him—a man without a name or known
identity until his father picked him up and gave him one. He had played around with how to
represent his father, without making it too obvious.

Now he had completed it and brought it to a central plaza for the unveiling ceremony. He was
almost positively giddy about it. It had been an open invitation so that all those in the
craftworld could see his masterpiece and its perfection. He stared up at his masterpiece with a
smile, his height had allowed him to sculpt it in a style that was larger than life itself. He had
wanted everyone to look up as the kneeling man approached the figure offering him his hand,
as he had once looked up to his father.

The population slowly trickled in, most of them intrigued by the giant human work of art.
Tenlyth had arrived early, and he smiled at his adopted son. " my son… I have not seen you
in many cycles. I almost did not recognise you."

Fulæm chuckled slightly. " What other silver-haired human could there be on this
craftworld?"

Tenlyth nodded. " Have you spent all this time working on this sculpture?" He asked, his eyes
travelling back to the hole-covered sculpture.

"I did… And before you ask, yes, I am fine, but I wanted to be perfect, especially for my first
public display. Embrace the perfection in beauty, I see in the world."
Tenlyth nodded as he looked up at his son, " I know for a fact you’ll be able to!"

The wine was beginning to be served as the audience's anticipation began to rise, Fulæm only
sipped his wine, and he waited for the perfect moment when the anticipation would be at its
absolute crunch. He took a deep breath as he cleared his throat. It seemed that his voice was
beginning to have the same effect as his gaze as every set of sharp black eyes turned to him.
A lesser man would be nervous, but instead, it made him excited.

" My friends, family, and those who came out of curiosity, I welcome you all!" He gave a
short bow of respect. "You are all here to experience my first masterpiece of what I hope to
be many... I know I am one for long speeches, so I will end it here." With that, he snaps his
fingers, bringing down the holographic covering and revealing to the world his masterpiece.

At that, everyone gasped as they saw the reaction that he had been craving. Yet his violet
eyes still narrowed as he heard what people said.

"It's almost perfect."

" No flaws. it doesn’t appear real."

"It's almost artificial, like."

The sentence's unspoken but clearly understood ending made him shiver in rage; it's almost
artificial, like him! He quickly regains his posture. "It's in honour of my father, the aldrie,
who took me in after I wandered the stars." He said using every bit of his aura in his voice. It
worked. Everyone's eyes snapped upon him as he gave a long speech. As it was finished, they
went back to discussing it. as his instructor came up to him with a fallen expression.

" I cannot see any faults in your sculpture. Everything is well; it's simply perfect. You have
complicated your path and are ready to move on to another one." It was obvious he was
trying to be considerate, but fulæm had picked up on his fear and nervousness that tinged his
voice.

" What do you mean?" Fulæm said, looking at him deed on.

After taking a few minutes to regain his composure, his instructor frowned and said, "You're
ready to move onto a new path. You can still sculpt in your free time, but now you must
move on!"

Fulæm nodded, his lips thin, for the first time in his life disappointed.

His height was starting to become a problem; they always knew that he would grow to be
massive, but this had begun to get out of hand, He had grown to be 11 feet tall, and it was
expected to continue for a while. which had led him to perhaps one of the hardest decisions
he had ever made. He stood in front of his living quarters, taking in a deep breath as he
entered, having to duck slightly, this chamber was too small for him.
Tenlyth had been working on his project, but he heard his son come in. He stood up and went
over to his adoptive son. " My son… You have been out for a while. "How goes the path of
the painter?" He asked, as he had just begun it after being forced to leave another path.

Fulæm nodded as he knelt, so he was on the same level as his father so they could speak. " It
goes well; I imagine I’ll have more luck with that of paint and brush than with that of wraith
bone." He paused for a long moment, trying to decide what to say. " Father, I have something
to tell you."

Tenlyth nodded, frowning slightly; he was able to recognise the tone of his adoptive son's
voice. " What is it?" He had asked softly.

" I think I must move out…"I don't want to, on the contrary... but I'm forced to." He
whispered, although his voice carried it as if he had spoken at full volume.

Tenlyth's sharp, dark eyes widened slightly. "What do you mean?" He asked, frowning; he
knew this day would come, but not so quickly.

" Father! I hate having to do it, but this room is simply too small for me to be comfortable in.
"I need furniture my size," he explained after a brief pause.

Tenlyth nodded, his lips thin. " I... understand!" He said simply he knew that his son would
be different. " But please visit me occasionally."

"Of course, I will!" Fulæm replied. You are my father. "Even if we live apart, you will always
be!"

Tenlyth huffed but smiled as his giant son picked him up and placed him at his level. "Yes, I
can now see why you would wish to move out. Everything seems so small!"

Fulæm nodded. " I’m glad we agree. " He chuckled softly. "This height is getting out of
hand... Shortly, I won’t be able to fit in most places."

Tenlyth nodded. " You are like the giants of the old myth. yet unlike them. You are as kind as
you are tall. although your ego is the only thing bigger than your size."

Fulæm chuckled " I don’t have that much of an ego!" He joked back, setting him down.
"Besides, it’s a challenge not to always look down on people!"

Tenlyth chuckled back at his son. " Will you be bringing anything?" He asked

"No, well just some personal items, I need to replace everything anyway! You have no idea
how uncomfortable it is to sit within a normal-sized chair."

" Do you have any idea how uncomfortable it is to sit in one of your chairs?"

"Tooshie," Fulæm teased. " I will keep a normal chair for you!"

"Or perhaps for someone else," Tenlyth said with a grin

Fulæm was taken aback. " What do you mean?"

"All I’m saying is that you might have some more visitors than me!"

Fulæm quickly realised what his adoptive father meant. " Oh." He had a very unusual
expression on his face. " I don’t think they will. I can’t imagine that any aldarie would desire
to be with me."

" I wouldn’t be so certain, you are a perfect companion. "Any Adarei man or woman would
be beyond fortunate to have you."

"Even if that's true, I'm still a human... and a huge one at that." I cannot imagine that many
would be interested in that."

"I think more people would be interested in it than you think," Tenlyth said, frowning. He
paused for a long moment. "Would you even be interested in a partner?"

" Perhaps. I considered it but brushed it off. If I had a partner, I do not think I’d be able to be
there for them! I’m too different. Well, let’s be honest, I'm a weapon meant for war. I don’t
think I can settle down with a family."

His father nodded. He just wanted his son to be happy.

It had been several years since fulæm had run out of artistic paths to pursue. He'd walked
almost all of them, with the same results as when he had been a sculptor. He paced around his
chamber, which was specially made for him. He had finally stopped growing at a height of 12
feet; he was by far the largest living thing in the craftworld. It was an inconvenience for the
most part. Yet he finally had to stop replacing everything so often. He flopped onto a lounge
chair. What started this thought was how he had just returned from a theatrical event—a
dramatic retelling of a legend. He had been asked to play Kaine, a brutal role that he thought
he excelled at. He had been on the path of the thespian. As he rose from a pool of holographic
magma to challenge the hero, he heard the gasps and fears of the audience. The director had
been in pure delight as he decided to walk that path, immediately casting him as Kaine, as
both his height and apparent natural aura made him perfect for the role. And he had been, as
the performance came to an end, and the director had come up to him with teary eyes, saying
that it had been the best performance that he had ever seen, surpassing even that of the
harlequins. And that was why he was forced to let him go. His influence would drive the rest
of the group into losing themselves on the path. Yet he would never again a direct play
involving the bloody-handed God.

Fulæm sighed. Standing up, he would have to find a new path. He had saved the post as one
of the last. He stood up again and pulled on a violet cloak, as always. He slowly walked
through the craftworld having to hold himself low to the ground. It was tight, extraordinarily
tight. He wondered if, where he was, the hallways were created for people of his height. He
thought about taking the path of the outcast and possibly going searching for whoever created
him; he knew he was created as a form of weapon, and he never wished for himself to end up
in hands that might threaten his people. He also did not want to fight; well, he did, quite a lot,
actually, since he was young, and he had ambitions of walking the warrior's paths and leading
his people to victory. He would be extremely good at it. Yet he never wanted to give in to the
apparent reason he was created.

He headed to a park, as it was one of the easiest places to relax, with the large dome giving
him enough space to stretch and be comfortable. It was the night hours of the day cycle, and
most had gone to bed, leaving him alone in peace and quiet.

Despite the fact that it was night, the air hadn't cooled but was still pleasantly warm, and the
trees began rustling in the artificial wind. the sounds of birds and other wildlife. It was quite
peaceful. He took off his cloak as he began walking through the forest, pulling on a few
upper branches as he walked. His ears, although not as sensitive as those of the Aldarie,
picked up footsteps behind him.

He quickly turned around and saw an aldaire walking behind him, his violet eyes widening. "
Elronhir?" He asked, remembering the gardener from so many years ago.

" I’m surprised that you remembered me. " Elronhir said he was simply looking way up to
fulæm.

" I surprisingly do not meet that many people, and besides, you left quite an impression on
me." He looked up at him

"I’ve seen you in passing several times… However, it was never aware of your height.

Fulæm chuckled slightly, " That tends to be people's first reaction to me." He said this while
knelt on one knee, about the same level as him.

" I apologize for my rudeness, but you are simply massive."

" I know!" Fulæm laughed. " It's a little bit of a pain more often than not!" He then looked
around " What are you doing here? Are you still on the path of the gardener?" He asked.

"I am, indeed." not all of us. I am constantly being forced to change paths!" He said with a
small smile. " But I suppose I could ask the same of you."

Fulæm let out a chuckle. " That is true. But don’t answer your question on why I have
decided to go for a walk at this time of the cycle; simply put, it’s nice not having to
constantly cramp down. And I needed to clear my head."

" I would assume it’s a little challenging to clear your head when you’re constantly bumping
it." he joked.

Fulæm let out a laugh. It was rare for someone to talk to you like a normal person. and he
quite liked it. " No, it's quite challenging!" he said as he stood back up.

Elronhir nodded and asked, "Would it be an issue if I walked with you?" He inquired, a grin
on his face as he looked up at the pale giant.
 Fulæm thought for a moment " I suppose you could! Although you may have a hard time
keeping up with me!"

Elronhir nodded and said, " I could imagine that!"

Chapter End Notes

So here we go, this chapter was by far the longest thing I’ve ever written, but I didn’t
know how to get past several years without it turning into a boring slog next chapter will
be some more interesting material. although it will not likely be as long
 the Autarch
Chapter Notes

Hope you enjoy

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Elronhir sighed as he returned to his chambers early in the morning cycle. He had spent all
night with the odd human; they had gone for a walk around the forest biome. After that, they
went to a cafe to get some wine after talking for several hours. Fulæm was fascinating to talk
to. And now he couldn’t stop thinking of him.

Despite his intimidating presence, he was quite easy to talk to, as long as you didn’t look into
his eyes or think too hard about the height and size difference and how the white-haired
human could easily kill him with just one slap. Now he was thinking of it. He had agreed to
meet up with him again the following cycle because they both seemed to have enjoyed their
time together. He laid on his bed exhausted; it had indeed been a challenge keeping up with
the giant. Even though he was clearly trying to slow down for him, his strides were long.

Elronhir rolled into bed, facing the door. He knew he would have a hard time drifting off into
the realm of dreams and nightmares. He was just too excited.

On the other side of the craftworld, fulæm entered his room. He always loved to socialise and
talk to others, but that was sadly rare most days; he was intimidating, It wasn’t even a
problem of race, well, not entirely. But more often than not, Aldarie keeps their distance from
him, not necessarily fearing him more often than not.

He went to the mirror as he undressed and stared at his pale form, full of natural muscles. He
had often been asked if he would join the path of the warrior. He could understand their
desire for him to join; he would be a great advantage to the craftworld. But he was hesitant;
he knew he shouldn't have been; it was what he was most likely created for, with his strength
and height giving him an almost insurmountable advantage in hand-to-hand combat, his
speed being on par with any aldari, his second heart pumping blood through his veins faster
than anyone else, and his skin. He looked at his tattoo on his chest, which was starting to heal
over; he'd have to get it redone soon. But suffice it to say he was made as a living weapon for
war, and that was why he didn’t want to walk on the path of the warrior; a part of him
believed that doing so would be giving in to it.

As his violet eyes narrowed as he saw his soul gem, he realised he was an aldari, albeit not
physically, but they had taken him in when they should have killed him; he owed it to his
people to use his skills to aid and protect his adoptive people. Fulæm was never a religious
man; he knew that the aldarie gods existed once but are now dead. As the Craftworld's dome
system changed from night to day, he traced his fingers over the scar and that of the phoenix,
which was alight in a bright golden-red colour. Yet according to almost everyone, he was a
gift from the gods—was that gift a warrior or an artist?

He sighed, although he was not tired. He had nothing else to do, so he slowly made his way
to his bed. His mind wandered back to Elrohir. He had promised to meet up with him later in
the cycle. He had thought of refusing his offer, but when else would he have the opportunity
to socialise with someone besides his adoptive father? So they agreed to meet up at nightfall.
Fulæm felt a weird mix of excitement and dread. He had never just socialised with anyone
before, and he was worried that he’d make a fool of himself.

With a heavy breath, he closed his eyes, intending to sleep. It took some time, but he did
manage to fall asleep as the craftworld began to wake.

Later in the cycle, Elronhir waited outside the plaza he had agreed to meet fulæm at. He was
nervous as the giant hadn’t arrived yet, and he was beginning to worry that Fulæm wouldn’t
arrive.

Yet his fears were soon relaxed as he saw the figure, which really could only belong to one
person. Fulæm was dressed simply, well, simply for him; they were extremely tight-fitting
clothes in his signature colours, as always. Elronhir tried not to let his eyes wander to the
visible muscles, by isha he must have spent every free moment training. He pushed those
thoughts aside for a moment as he stretched up, hoping to get the giant's attention.

" Fulæm!" He called out the giant, who turned his violet eyes on him, which made him shake
slightly.

" Elronhir!" He was softly smiling at him, approaching him, and kneeling so they could talk
face to face. " I must apologise for my lateness! My father needed my aid. "I'd rather be early
than late."

Eleronhir nodded, giving him a gesture that said it was no issue. " I can understand. "I've
never directly talked to your father, but he seems like a good person."

Fulæm chuckled. " He is, many wouldn't take in an orphaned child from a capsule and of a
different species, especially when it became obvious how different I was!"

" I suppose not many would. Also, it is all right if you stand up." Elronhir said to the silver-
haired giant:

Fulæm nodded, standing up. "All right!" he said, smiling. "It's good to see you. Despite the
fact, we saw each other earlier this cycle."

The aldarie nodded and said, "So what do you wish to do this evening?" He asked

" Perhaps grab a meal and tour the art plazas?" He suggested. " I have not eaten in several
days, and I’ve become a little famished!"

Elronhir looked a little surprised. "You haven’t eaten in several days. He asked, wanting him
to repeat it for clarity, as he looked at the giant, not understanding the figure he saw with that
piece of information!

" No, I've never had an appetite. And before you ask, no, I do not understand why. And it's
not at the top of my list of things to understand."

"I apologise for my rudeness, but how are you so..." Elronhir frowned. He did not finish the
question, but it was obvious what he had meant.

"Naturally, it would seem. Everything you see before you is most likely the result of human
scientists trying to make a living weapon." Fulæm should read it relatively casually, his voice
not showing the fact that this had weighed on him for a long time.

Elronhir looked up to the giant, which did make things make more sense. But it left one
question. " How did you end up here?"

" I do not know. I’ve been trying to figure that out myself for as long as I can remember. I
have had theories and heard a few as well. but I do not know it for certain."

" Do you think there are more like you?" The thought made him shiver ever so slightly at the
thought of an army of giant humans.

Fulæm pursed his lips slightly. It has been a concern he has had for a long time, or is he just
one billion super soldiers that somehow got lost in transportation? Was that why no one had
come looking for him? But it couldn’t have been, he knew that he was special! " I don’t
know, but I do not think so!"

Elronhir nodded again. " I apologise for my possible rudeness. Now do you want to go get
something to eat? I don’t want to starve you or anything!"

Fulæm let out a loud laugh; it was quite a contrast from how softly he usually spoke. " I’d be
surprised if I could even be starved." He chuckled, pushing a white lock from his face.
Elronhir had to admit he was a very attractive man, especially for a human.

They walked together to the restaurant, and Fulæm pointed out several sculptures they had
passed, telling him their histories and what the artist meant by them.

" Your first path was that of the sculpture, wasn’t it?" Elronhir asked

"Indeed, I did not last long upon it. I created a sculpture, and according to everyone, it was
just too perfect!"

"Egotism much?"

"No, I mean it literally," he sighed. It had weighed heavily on his shoulders for quite some
time. " According to everyone and my instructor, it looked almost artificial! So I was forced
to leave that path."

" Oh? Do you ever worry that you’d get lost on a path?" Elronhir asked.
" no… Unfortunately, I am not an Aldarie ... although I suppose that might be the only part
that is beneficial to me."

Elronhir nodded as he looked up at the human. " Have you ever considered taking the path of
the Warrior?"

Fulæm looked a little surprised. " I have, quite often. I know I was most likely created for
war, but I feel like if I do, I would just be giving in to whatever monster created me." It was
the first time he had voiced these feelings out loud.

"I understand that," Elronhir said after pausing and looking up at him. It’s horrible that you
feel that way."

They walked in silence till they reached the open air restaurant and ordered their meals, the
silence continued as they ate, only pleasantly listening to the music that was being played.

" I would like to join the path of the Warrior, one of these cycles—specifically, that of the
banshee!"

Elronhir almost spat out his drink, "The banshee?"

" Yes! Their fighting style is the one I think that would suit me the most. Direct, fast, and of
course, hand to hand."

" I suppose that is true. You would be unmatched in any physical conflict. " Elronhir
chuckled

Fulæm chuckled back "No, unless there is a legion of people like me!" He joked.

"Then we’d all be doomed!"

They chuckled together, and fulæm began to relax. They spent the night together exploring
the craftworlds, as dawn began to break Elronhir turned to him. " It was so nice to spend time
with you, it was enjoyable! But I’m getting a little tired, and my living quarters are almost
exactly on the opposite side of the craftworld."

Fulæm nodded, saying, "My quarters are close by. If you wish to remain?" He didn’t know
what came over him but he felt like he had to offer " just a warning about everything; it was
built to be an appropriate size for me." He quickly added, backtracking slightly.

Elronhir's eyes lit up: "If it’s not too much of a hassle for you. I think that would work out the
best." He was quite excited to see Fulæm Quarters.

Fulæm nodded as he led him to his quarters. Only his father had seen his quarters, as that was
where they spent the majority of their time together.

Elronhir gasped slightly as he entered the quarter. He had not known what he would be
expecting, but certainly not this. Everything within the room was sized for a man of Fulæm
stature. It made him feel small in a way. It was richly decorated. He could tell that the giant
enjoyed the finer things in life.
" Welcome to my quarters! "If you want, I can get you a seat more appropriate for your size."

" It’s alright, I’ll most likely be heading to sleep soon." Elronhir said simply.

" If you wish, you could use my bed; I’m not tired." Fulæm offered.

" Let me guess. You also don’t need to sleep." Elronhir said jokingly, as it would honestly not
have surprised him.

" I do need to sleep, just not often." Fulæm simply stated while sitting in a low chair!

"Well, that is to be expected; I don’t think there is one normal thing about you. And I do say
that in the nicest way you are the most fascinating person I have ever met. "

Fulæm felt his cheeks warming slightly. " Thank you, I suppose." He didn’t know how to
react. He looked around for a long moment. " Do you need anything?"

" No, I’m good. Thank you for inviting me to your quarters, and letting me rest in your
chamber." With that, Elronhir entered Fulæm Chamber for a long night of rest and sleep.

Fulæm sighed as he laid fully down, and despite everything, he had a smile upon his face.

It was a few hours later in the day, fulæm had mostly spent it in silence reading, as his guest
was still busy sleeping. He sat up quickly as the quarters system alerted him that someone
was at his door. He frowned slightly, knowing that only his father came to visit him.

He gave the command to the system to unlock the doors, allowing his father in. Tenlyth
entered with a smile: "You forgot your scarf at my quarters last cycle when you were aiding
me." He said as he gave his son a golden-coloured scarf. He then looked into his son's
chambers and saw Elronhir items resting upon the couch; his eyes widened. "Do you have
someone with you?" He asked, his voice tinged with a little bit of excitement.
" Yes I do. I spent last night with" he paused for a moment, thinking of the right words to use
for his relationship with Elronhir. " a friend. As his chamber where on the opposite side of the
craftworld. I offered to let him stay at my Chambers for the rest of the night."
Tenlyth looked both surprised and overjoyed; he was beyond happy that his son had finally
made a friend.

" Is he still sleeping?"

Fulæm did not hear any movement in his bedchamber " I believe so"

Tenlyth looked a little disappointed as he had wished to meet his son’s new friend. " What is
his name?" He asked, wondering if he had heard of him.

Fulæm smiled " Elronhir!" He said as he sat back down, not enjoying towering over his
father. " I’d be surprised if you knew him, as he’s around my age… physically I mean!" He
added quickly.
"Ah. I have indeed never heard of him, what path does he walk?" Tenlyth was obviously
intrigued by his son’s first friend.

" He walks upon the path of that of the gardener as he had for several cycles." Fulæm
explained with a grin.

" I would never had imagined that you would befriend a gardener." Tenlyth joked, knowing
how arrogant his adopted son could be.

Fulæm chuckled " I didn’t either, yet he seems to be one of the only a few people I’ve met
who treats me like I’m just another person."

Tenlyth nodded, it had pained him that his son even had to consider that. " I hope that the two
of you remain friends."

Fulæm nodded " I obviously do as well." he then paused, as he mustered up the courage to
ask his next question. " Father, I need your advice."

Tenlyth quickly sat up. " what is it?"

" I am wondering if I should take the path of the Warrior?" He asked

Tenlyth heart Skip a beat, he has always known that his adopted son would show interest
upon walking the path of the warrior, but it was the fact that his son had thrown it up so
casually that had surprised him. " I suppose you should if it feels like it’s the right path for
you."

Fulæm nodded " The thought of it had been weighing on my mind for quite a bit. I want
nothing more than to protect the people who took me in, I believe it’s the least I can do."

Tenlyth nodded ever so slightly. " I suppose you couldn't have picked a better time for it. I do
not know if I have mentioned this, but the seers see something horrible in the future."

Fulæm looked a little surprised but then nodded " I would say when are they not foreseeing
doom and destruction! But I believe you in this. Perhaps that was why I was brought here."

Tenlyth frowned " you where not just brought here to fight and die in battles, you where
brought here to live a happy life just as much!"

" Father. I did and do. But there is so much more I can give."

" I know you can, I just want you to know it wasn’t the reason you're here."

Fulæm nodded " I suppose. Although I suppose we also do not know why I’m here."

" Do you still wish to find that out?"

" less now than I once did. I fear whatever created me, and that if I search them out, I could
possibly draw attention to our home."

Tenlyth nodded. "You want nothing more than to defend this craftworld, don’t you?" He
asked

"Yes, I do," Fulæm said, nodding. You and the craftworld took me in. I’ll forever be
grateful."

Tenlyth nodded, smiling, as he hugged his son tightly! " You are an incredible son. And I’ll
always be glad that I took you in. No matter what!"

Fulæm smiled, hugging him back. " You're the best father that I could’ve ever asked for."

Tenlyth had left his son before Elronhir had awoken. " I see that you had company." He saw
his friend cleaning up after his father.

" My father came to return something I forgot last evening." Fulæm explained as he grabbed
some leafy, warm water. " Do you wish to have something to eat or drink?" He smiled as he
offered.

" Yes, I’ll have whatever you're having if it’s not too much of an issue." As he said that,
fulæm handed him a cup. It was huge in Elronhi's hands, as it was meant for the giant.

" I apologise; I don’t really have anything meant for those of a typical size." The giant
chuckled slightly, sitting back down.

" It's alright! I’m in your quarter. If you were in mine, it would be too small for you."
Elronhir said, waving it off.

Fulæm nodded. " I usually prefer to drink wine, but as my father was over, we instead had
this." He explained.

Elronhir nodded as he began to sip, and he looked up at his friend with a warm smile. " Has
anyone ever told you how handsome you are? I've seen humans through photos, but you look
almost nothing like them."

Fulæm's eyes widened slightly, and after being nearly silenced by those words, he chuckled
nervously, "Thanks, I guess." He looked at him, trying to figure out how to respond: "You do
not look bad either?"

Elronhir chuckled. " I suppose I might be, but you're just striking!"

" yes Iam. But not everyone can be a giant white haired human." He then paused, chuckling,
and said, " I’m going to join the path of the warrior today."

Elronhir nodded. " I imagined you would. Are you nervous?" He inquired whether he could
ever envision himself on the path of a warrior.
"I suppose I would be, but not for the reasons most people would be. As a living weapon, I
know I'll be relatively safe, but what I'm worried about is becoming nothing more than a
weapon." He paused again, "I'm afraid of becoming lost on the path of the warrior!"

Elronhir thought for a moment. " Perhaps instead of that of the warrior, and devoting yourself
to just one aspect, why don’t you try to become an Autarch?"

" walk the path of command… become a war leader?" The idea was tempting " I could see
myself in that role."

" I think you would be good at it! Beyond good at it in fact. You can walk through all of the
aspects, from the banshee to the shining spear. Not to mention Autarch in times of peace are
encouraged to take up the arts."

Fulæm thought that was convincing. "Alright, you’ve convinced me!" He said softly, " I will
walk the path of the warrior and the Autarch!"

Elronhir smiled, " and if you would let me. I’ll aid you on that path."

Fulæm blushed slightly, and he felt honoured "Thank you!" He said softly, then frowned
slightly, "Why are you doing this?" He simply inquired.

"What do you mean?"

" Why are you helping me so much?" The imposing figure asked softly, " We've just met."

Elronhir nodded, thinking, why was he? "You're my friend! And, besides, I think you're going
to change the galaxy, and I want a front-row seat!"

"I can promise you, if it does happen, you'll be there if you wish," Fulæm said with a chuckle.
"We’ll see too much glory."
Later in the cycle, Fulæm was standing at the door of the shrine of howling vengeance, the
shrine of the howling banshee. He was second-guessing himself; he didn't even know if he'd
be accepted as an exarch's student; they'd have the right not to accept him. But he pushed
through that fear as he entered the shrine. He was quickly taken aback; instead of a standard
room, he was suddenly standing on a rocky beach. He had known that each aspect shrine
contained a specially designed chamber, each with a distinct and unique natural biome meant
to aid in the training of the future aspect warriors, but the sudden change had surprised him
by the sudden change.
He quickly shook his surprise off as he took a deep breath and ventured through the rocky
beach, hoping to find the exarch.

As he had walked for a bit alone, it was almost unnerving in a way. Perhaps this was a part of
the test, being able to walk through this place to sort those who weren’t completely sure of
this path from those who knew that their new path was that of the warrior.
"I knew that one day the Craftworld's adopted son would try to walk in Khaine's shadow. But
I had never expected for its first path to be under Morai-Heg!" Fulæm quickly turned around
when he noticed a female aldarie with dark hair tied into a high ponytail. She was dressed
within the armour of the banshee but without the iconic helmet of wails, yet the most striking
feature of her was her eyes: sharp, cold, and full of fury yet almost dead in a way—a sign of
those lost upon the path of the warrior.

"I am here, exarch, to take on the form of a banshee, to deliver both fear and a swift death."
Fulæm said, his voice full of confidence.

"The path of the banshee is one of speed, not strength!" said the Exarch, walking around the
giant. She lunged at him almost as fast as Fulæm could see it, but Fulæm swerved to the side
and dodged the blade. She quickly recovered from the attack and turned to the giant. " You're
more agile than you look." She said simply, "You also inspire fear in those who see you. Yes,
I believe you could make an excellent banshee." She took another look at him.

Fulæm nodded as he bowed slightly " I wish for nothing more than to learn!"

The Exarch nodded, saying, "It shall be painful, although I even doubt you may feel pain.
You’ll have to learn to work against your human body. You were created for the brutal,
uncivilized battles of humanity's war. "Before your race had crawled from beasts, we,
Aldarie, had waged war."

" I know that. I’m willing to learn to conquer these weaknesses."

" You will need to! "Now I must ask you a question: why would Asurian's supposed gift join
the banshee rather than the dire avengers?" The Exarch asked.

Fulæm frowned; he had considered the path of the avengers. "I believe the blade would better
serve my craftworld than the shuriken."

The Exarch nodded. " You will learn blades and shuriken on the path of the banshee."

" I know, as I put my faith in your teachings."

" I do not know how much I may teach you. The first thing those who come to me learn is
how to activate their war mask. Yet mankind has no need for one. Your kind by birth has the
gift to create death and destruction and to simply not let it affect your kind." The Exarch
chuckled darkly and said, "If anything, you already have the war mask on. Khaine has
already dug his way into one of your two hearts."

Fulæm frowned. "You mean to say that I’m like you in a way? already wandered off the
warrior's path?"

" I did say you had two hearts. Khaine’s talon had dug in, yet the other is free from it." "Now
enough metaphysical talk; you came here to become like the banshee," she said after a brief
pause. The Exarch pointed to a tall and narrow rock formation, saying, "Stand upon it,
balance yourself upon it."
Fulæm did so, easily reaching the formation as he balanced himself upon it. And then nothing
for almost an entire cycle, the Exarch only watching him and asking, "What next?" Fulæm
asked, growing a little impatient as he had just been standing there.

The Exarch only looked up at him as she picked up a large stone and threw it at the giant with
the simple command, "Dodge!" Fulæm quickly did so, moving to the side as the stone flew
past him. He had no time to recover as the Exarch had thrown another, which he dodged
again. This continued for the rest of the cycle as Fulæm continued to dodge them, not letting
any stones hit his body.

The Exarch stopped, as she had thrown all of the stones in the area. " You are more agile than
you look. Now which stones were harder to dodge, those that were big or those that were
small?" She asked

"The smaller stones were as fast as they were hard to see!"

The Exarch nodded. " That is the motto of the Banshee: strike fast and precisely. While our
siblings within the striking scorpions hide and wait for the moment to strike, then strike hard,
we strike as fast as the wind."

"To use brute force is just leaving yourself open to defeat when you meet an enemy stronger
than you!" Fulæm said, understanding what she meant. " If one uses skill, they only rely on
their own skill."

The Exarch nodded and said, "You are correct in this. Your strength is great, but there will
always be someone stronger than you."

Fulæm nodded. " There might be, for whatever created me may have gone on to create more.
Instead of relying on my physical strength, I should rely on my skills"

The Exarch nodded. "You’ve learned." She said simply, "Fallow me." She took him to the
heart of the artificial beach and to the actual shrine itself.

It had many daily cycles as Fulæm continued on the path of the banshee. The training had
been hard; the Exarch had pushed him harder than she did with the other aspiring Banshees,
as in her belief that the path of the Banshee required suffering and that training required pain.
As he felt less pain than an aldarie, she taunted him and his species, and he worked, trying to
dig that nail in. Yet fulæm continued to work with no complaint, training his body to become
the banshee, a swift instrument of Khaine’s vengeance!

But when he was not training or resting, Fulæm instead spent most, if not all, of his time with
Elronhir. The two had become extremely close friends in their time together.
Fulæm was currently waiting outside of Elronhir's quarters, sitting on the ground so he was
not as cramped. They had agreed to meet up and head for dinner, and Fulæm had wanted to
surprise him by meeting him at his door but was starting to regret it, as he was currently very
cramped. The door to the quarters opened as Elronhir stepped out of his chambers; he gasped
slightly upon seeing the giant! " Fulæm!" He was overjoyed to see his friend.

"Hi! I thought I’d walk with you to the restaurant!" The silver haired giant offered a small
smile.

" I’d appreciate that!" Elronhir said, smiling at his friend. As the giant stood up, he
accidentally bumped his head on the wraith bone ceiling.

" Why do they have to create things so small?" He huffed, but then extended his hand to
Elronhir. Elronhir looked up and gently took it. Elronhir adored Fulæm's hand because it was
both strong and soft; it was meant for killing but was also warm and comforting.

" Thank you!" He said this while smiling as they began to walk. " So how does the path of
the Banshee?" He smiled.

" It goes well, the Exarch is a pain as ever, but that is to be expected. I think I have almost
mastered it, and I think that I’ll soon move on to the next aspect."

" So soon, you’ve never even gotten into an actual battle?" Elronhir asked.

Fulæm shrugged his shoulders, hitting the ceiling. " It's been peaceful. All of the orks have
been burned out of the nearby planets, and our exodite kin don’t draw much attention... and
well, the closest few human planets are barbaric!" He said simply, "So there's no real need for
battle. Yet I’ve faced all of the challenges that the Exarch threw at me. I think I am as ready
as I can be!"

"I suppose that's true!" said Elronhir. But I am happy that you are progressing so quickly!
What path is next?" He grinned.
Fulæm smirked, "That of the dire avenger! I am Asuryan’s gift after all!" He joked

Elronhir laughed at that. " I can see you in blue with a shuriken. Maybe you'll braid some into
your hair!" It was not at all uncommon for those upon the path of the dire avenger to sew or
braid tinny shuriken disks into their robes and hair, so that they could always be ready to
defend.

" Perhaps! I don't know! I quite like my hair as is!" Fulæm said so while smiling as they
reached the restaurant. " haven't eaten in awhile, and with all the training I’ve done, I’m quite
hungry."

"Seriously, you haven’t eaten in a few days, and you're an aspect warrior?"

Fulæm shrugged. " I do not know what to tell you!" They enjoyed a long meal together,
talking and laughing, during which Elronhir placed his hand upon that of Fulæm.

Fulæm quickly stopped his conversation as he noticed that he didn’t say anything. But
Elronhir realized he was making his friend uncomfortable and apologized. He quickly
expressed his embarrassment. pulling his hand away.

"It’s alright!" Fulæm spoke quickly. " I was just surprised!" He then placed his much larger
one on Elronhir's hand and exclaimed, "I like it!"

Elronhir blushed slightly. "You do?" He asked, surprised.

Fulæm nodded. "Most are too afraid to even look at me, much less touch me!" He explained,
"You're really the only person besides my father to treat me as just a person instead of
whatever I am!"

Elronhir took a deep breath " I… really like you." He said simply. " You're a great person,
and I’m beyond glad to be your friend!"
Fulæm nodded, smiling " I’m glad we are!" He purred.

Several yearly cycles went by as Fulæm continued upon the paths of the aspect warriors,
learning the art of the shrunken within the sunny planes of the shrine of the dire avenger. He
had spent far more time perfecting his use of a shuriken catapult than the banshee blade. Yet
he had learned and begun to master its art.

The striking scorpion was the next path he had followed. Within the humid jungle of that
shrine, he had been trained to stay silent and stealthy and wait for the right moment to strike.
It has been challenging; every part of his being tells him to run in to seek glory, yet, as the
Exarch said, there is no honour or glory in throwing away a life when it could be avoided.

It was around the time he was finishing up the path of the striking scorpion that they received
the first words from their rangers: that humans had created a new empire, an expansionist and
violent one, and it was coming their way. Fulæm had taken to this news with a determination
to work harder on the path to complete it sooner so that he could be an Autarch when the
time of conflict came.

The next aspect he would walk toward was that of the dark reaper. in the shrine of a swamp.
where he learned to be cold, calculating, and merciless, dealing death to his foes from range.
Like all the paths that focused on range fighting, it was a little bit of a challenge, but he soon
mastered it, becoming like death itself.

His final path was that of the fire dragon. They had precluded that the path of the shining
spear and the shopping hawk would be too difficult for him due to his size. And that of the
warp spider was too dangerous, as they didn’t exactly know what his soul, besides being
powerful, and how it would react to the warp.

As he completed the path of the fire dragon, he had achieved the necessary five paths to be
considered capable of becoming an Autarch. There had been a ceremony to which the entire
craftworld was invited, and most of them attended. It was unusual for a new Autarch to be
named. The exarchs had left their shrine during the ceremony, a rare occurrence, and stood
before them.

"Do you swear to embody Khaine’s aspect of nobility and protect our people from the horror
of our enemies?" The face of the Exarch of the dire Avengers was strong and noble!

"I do," Fulæm said simply as the Exatch handed him a shimmer shield that he attached to his
left arm. a shield to protect himself and those close to him in battle.

The Exarch of the striking scorpions was next. "Will you stalk your prey through the shadows
before falling upon them like the wrath of Khaine himself?" She asked.
" I Will!" With that, the Exarch gave him the helmet of the striking scorpions, with the sting
of the scorpion, also known as the mandiblaster, attached to its sides a brutal weapon in and
of itself.

The fire dragon Exarch was next. " Will you embody the writhing, sinewy dragon?" He
asked.

" I shall!" Fulæm said as he was handed several small fire bombs that he placed around the
belt of his armour.

The dark reaper Exarch was next: "Shall you embody Khaine as the destroyer of our
enemies?" He inquired solemnly.

" I will!" As the Exarch nodded and handed him a reaper launcher, a heavy weapon that was
good to keep as a backup,

Finally, the Exarch of the howling banshee appeared in front of the giant. " I was your first
teacher! You overcame the weakness of your human body and became like the banshee." She
said this while handing Fulæm a set of mirror blades and matching power swords. Fulæm
gasped as he saw that, upon the sword meant for the left hand, there was an engraved serpent
carved within the metal of the blade, and upon the right handed sword, there was a carving of
a phoenix matching his scars—it was beautiful!

"Thank you!" Fulæm whispered as he held both of the mirror swords—they were the perfect
weight! He held his right hand blade up to the sky, facing the crowd, and said, "For Asurian!
Death to our foes!" he cried out in victory.

The gathered Aldarie all raised their weapons or fists as they returned the battle cry, " For
Asurian! Death to our foes!"

After that there had been a feast, a moment of celebration within the craftworld. Almost
everything was served, including fresh fruit and game, was imported from a exodie world.
Fulæm was sitting at the head of the table, his adoptive father by his side, and the other
important leaders of the craftworld around the table, but oddly enough, so was Elronhir, as
Fulæm had invited him as his personal guest!

" I never expected you to become an Autarch when I found you!" Tenlyth said, smiling up at
his son.

" I can’t imagine you expected much when you found me!" Fulæm joked back. He was
sipping on some wine.

" No, definitely not." Tenlyth chuckled.

Elronhir smiled: "A new Autarch, born from the race of man... kind of poetic in a way!"

Fulæm nodded, " especially if the rumours of an expanding human empire are true. There
couldn’t have been a better time!"

Tenlyth nodded. "Are you concerned about the humans?" He inquired.

 Fulæm frowned, shrugging "no. I hold no attachment to that species. If they threaten my
people or our exodite cousins, they shall deserve destruction."

"I would never want to face you in combat," Elronhir chuckled lightly. "And I hope humanity
also has the wisdom not to."

As the dinner finished, Elronhir looked up at Fulæm. "Mind coming for a walk with me
before I head to rest?" Fulæm could hear the nervousness in his friend's voice.

" alright!" He said simply, standing up and checking his belt to see if his new weapons were
safely fastened. They had walked in silence for a while. Finally, Fulæm broke the silence.
"So, do you wish to talk?"

Elronhir stopped and turned around. " I… in our time together, I’ve started to have feelings
for you!" He said simply.

Fulæm stopped and turned around, asking, "What do you mean?"

"I... really well, I wish to become your partner!" Those words surprised the giant; he had
similar feelings but had pushed them aside because he had expected that no aldarie would
wish to be with him. Why would anyone wish to? He was one of a kind, and he was a giant,
towering over Elronhir. Yet Elronhir had just said that he wished to be his partner.

Elronhir saw his friend's expression and quickly backtracked, saying, "It’s alright if you don’t
feel the same!" He was embarrassed

"Do you really feel that way?" Fulæm asked, shocked.

" Yes. I do! I... think you're a wonderful person, and I wish to spend my cycles with you."

Fulæm frowned. "You do realize I'm not of your species, nor am I natural."

"You should know, Aldarie, that our people fall in love based on spirit, not physicality, and
you, my friend, have a wonderful spirit," Elronhir shrugged.

Fulæm frowned slightly but then smiled, "... I've had feelings for you for several cycles. I
pushed them to the side, as I thought you’d never return them."

"We spend pretty much every moment together," Elronhir said with a smile. "It would be
natural that we would form a relationship. " He took a deep breath " If you would have me, I
want nothing more than to be your partner!"

Fulæm thought for a moment about his conflicting feelings, but after a minute of thought, he
nodded. " I suppose we can try!" He spoke softly. " I don’t know how everything will work,
but we are both non seers, so our fate is in our own hands!" With those words, he took
Elronhir's smaller hands into his own.

Chapter End Notes

So, in the following chapter, the autarch meets another of Men's children.
 Brothers three
Chapter Summary

Brothers meet upon a battlefield

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Fulæm smiled ever so slightly as he awoke, Elronhir’s much smaller body was curled up
against his own. Fulæm gently kissed the forehead of Elronhir, waking him.

Elronhir's eyelids fluttered up, revealing his monochromatic black eyes, so different from his
own but with the same amount of love within them He looked around for a moment as he
remembered that they had just moved in together a few cycles ago despite being partners for
many cycles longer.. Elronhir had requested that when Fulæm woke up, he also wake him, so
that they could spend the morning together before their responsibilities forced them apart. "Is
it morning already?" Elronhir asked softly as he leaned up to kiss the giant.

" Sadly, yes." Fulæm said, lying back down on the bed. "But I was thinking before the war
council we could grab breakfast. "

"Oh yes. the war council, do you know why it was called?"

"No," Fulæm said, shrugging. "The seers almost never tell us Autarch s anything before a war
council, that would be something involving the new human empire!"

Elronhir nodded and asked, "Are you nervous about it?" He inquired as he rose from his bed
and began to dress.

" In a way, yes, but not for the reason of battle; it’s just that I’ve never seen another human.
Even though I have no feelings for that race, it could be a shock." Fulæm explained as he put
on his underarmor, a simple cloth body suit.

"Do you think any conflict can be avoided through diplomacy because you’re human?"
Elronhir asked, trying not to stare at his partner's body.

" I don’t know enough about what they want—resources, new subjects, or just plain galactic
conquest. Each changes the way we should interact with them. And they may not even
consider me human, which, if I’m even human in the first place, is debatable, but I was raised
here among the Aldarie. "

Elronhir nodded. " I suppose most wouldn't. I know that most of the craftworld sees you as an
aldarie; when I told my parents that I was your partner, they weren’t even concerned about
your species, more about how demanding the path of the Autarch could be."

Fulæm chuckled at that, strapping his mirror swords to his sides; even if he was not wearing
armour, it was traditional to always have a weapon on hand in case the worst was to happen.
They are right. Yet it’s enjoyable in a strange way. a balance of combat training, pursuing my
artistic interests, and, of course, spending time with you. It’s perfect."

" I suppose for you, it is, and I’m happy." Elronhir stated as he had completed his
preparations.

looked at him and said, "You look as radiant as crystals within the dawn!"

Elronhir blushed. "And you look as strong as the radiant sun!" He then offered the giant his
hand and said, "Shall we head out? I don’t want you to rush before the council.

"No, I'm still by far the youngest," said, Fulæm nodding. "in several ways, and I do not desire
to make them, I think that I am untimely and irresponsible."

" Are you ever nervous about your place as the youngest?" Elronhir asked as they walked out
of the chambers.

"No, not really. I have my place as a member of the craftworld and as an Autarch , especially
in hand to hand combat. I have my place and my role."

They reached the place where they’d eat breakfast, with Fulæm only having some fruit and
wine, which had surprised Elronhir. " Are you really drinking before the council?" He was
shocked.

"yes. A single cup has less than zero effect on me. I'd be surprised if I could even get drunk."
The giant chuckled. The cup indeed looked comically small in his giant hand. "Right now,
before the council, it's just a peaceful breakfast with my partner."

"So, do you wish to do anything after the war council? I heard there’s an unveiling of the
work of a sculpture later within this cycle." He suggested

Fulæm nodded. "Depending on what must be done after the council, I’d love to go with you
to it!" He said softly as they finished eating, " I need to go to my shrine to don the armour.
and it can take awhile." He stood up. They headed to the autratch shrine, and in front of the
door to it, fulæm kneeled down to Elronhir's level, saying, "We’ll meet up as soon as
possible, after the council!" He spoke softly.

Elronhir nodded. " I shall miss you!"

" and I shall as well. But during the council, I’ll be thinking of you, and I will do everything
to protect you and our home!" Fulæm said as he pulled Elronhir into a long hug before he
entered his personal Autarch shrine.

Donning the armour was a long process. Each part of the armour required a different prayer
to Khaine as it was donned. He stood as an Autarch when he was finished, his face hidden
behind the scorpion's helmet; if it hadn't been for his size, he would've looked like any other
aldarie Autarch . " khaine the bloody handed one. Father of war and of murder! Grant me the
strength needed to lead my people to victory!" As he finished the ritual, he said the prayer in
whispers.

He checked to see if his weapons were perfectly fastened to his silk belt. As he began waking
to the tower of thunderous battles, the seat of the war council, and where the Autarch s meet
with the seers and exarchs. It was a simpler tower than that of the seers, as war was not to be
glorified, it was a necessary fact of life, and when it was wagged, Aldarie lives should be
prioritized and protected, although the opposite of that desire was the unspoken rule: that
non-Aldarie lives mattered much less than those of any Aldarie! The other Autarch s began to
enter, along with the exarchs, seers, and a few rangers.

Fulæm looked at the rangers; one of them was wearing Amhrán Aisling colours, green and
blue, while the others were wearing the armour of a separated craftworld. This was a group of
rangers, outcasts from different craftworlds, all joined together for companionship and safety.
He silently gestured to another Autarch , silently asking if they knew why they were here; the
Autarch gave him a gesture that said they were just as clueless as him.

The council had begun as a ranger step forward, with the council of the four farseers entering.
"Seers... exarchs and Autarchs, our Exodite siblings on Tal-whin, have been invaded." The
rangers dressed in Amhrán Aisling's armour spoke as she held out a disc and played a
recording of the footage. Fulæm had to hold in a gasp as he saw the recording of tall,
armoured warriors in white armour butchering Exodites, all of them adults and children, all
without mercy or compassion... When an Aldarie warrior removed their war mask but
remembered what they had done, the guilt of it would often send them spiralling into
depression... Nonetheless, they killed these monsters without mercy. Fulæm's fury was only
cooled as he felt the eyes of the council upon him.

"Giant humans!" Farseer Losetn, who had always hated him, said with a sneer, "Do you know
anything about that... Autarch ?" He said the final part in a mocking tone.

" How could I? "I was born here," he explained, taking off his helmet to express himself. " I
know nothing about these monsters! He sneered at the footage of the massacre. The rangers
who were not from this craftworld jumped slightly as they saw that the giant Autarch had
been a human.

"They were smaller than you, Autarch !" A ranger replied quickly, giving him the sign of
respect.

Fulæm nodded and said, "Enough if they are like me! They must be driving off." He growled
as the other warriors, the Autarch s, and the exarchs nodded in agreement. "What do we
know of these monkeigh?" He demanded.

"From what we heard, Autarch , they call themselves the "Luna wolves!" A ranger paused to
pronounce humanity's dreadful tongue.

" Luna… I believe that is what they call the name of their homeworld's singular moon."
Farseer Elsaya said simply:
" While that is nice to know, how may we drive them away?" Another Autarch growled,
speaking, what was on the minds of all of the Warriors.

"From the recordings we have, facing them in direct combat would be tantamount to suicide
if they are at all similar to me, and the armour they wear looks strong. As such, we shouldn’t
directly face them," Fulæm said simply, as he went to the table and brought up a map of the
world. " Instead, we should draw them out into smaller groups and lead them into a prepared
zone, and then, with both of the reapers and our other heavy support, fire upon him from afar.
When their numbers dwindle, we may go in and finish them off, and then we repeat as many
times as we need to." Fulæm said as he brought up a simulation of his plan on the map.
Everyone nodded as they thought of it. It was a sound plan, and would likely work while also
minimizing their casualties.

"Your plan seems sound, Autarch Fulæm. But how will we divide them and draw them out?"
Autarch Kayshæ asked.

" It's simple; our swiffer aspects, those of the shining spears, swooping hawks, warp spiders,
and howling banshees, plus a few windriders, harass them, luring them toward the trap and
then separating them as they chase us." Fulæm said, staring at the map with his intense eyes.
"It is perilous, but we’ll have to have confidence in our speed and skill."

" What of the dire avengers, striking scorpions, and flaming dragons?" Kayshæ inquired

"They will remain with the reapers, " Fulæm said simply. "The dire Avengers' shimmering
shield will provide some much-needed support. The brutality of the scorpions and the
dragon's flame will finish anyone who manages to survive."

The other Autarchs nodded, as in times of war they were the leaders and the ones that
determined the strategies. " We should also have a farseer and several warlocks for psychic
support." Fulæm, mentioned to the seer council.

" We shall assign a few for your effort. And am I correct in assuming you shall lead the war
host?" Elsaya asked

"Of course!" Fulæm said, nodding. "It is my plan, and I shall defend my people!" He said it
firmly!

The other Autarch s nodded and said, "You and your host shall leave next morning." Elsaya
spoke as Fulæm turned to the exarchs.

"Call those from your shrine! for a fight to protect our siblings. We shall leave in the
morning!" He said this to the warrior priests of Khaine, who nodded as they left. Fulæm
looked at the map again: "For an Exodite world, bel-tan tends to also defend them; could we
count on their aid?" He asked one of the rangers with green armour.

She shook her head, " no. Well, usually, but if they learned that the Autarch was human, I
doubt they’d help!" She said as Fulæm nodded
" I expected as much! It’s no matter; we can do it ourselves!" He said firmly, turning to the
rangers, " I can assume you’ll be accompanying us?"

The lead ranger nodded, "Yes, Autarch !" He said showing the gesture of respect. As that was
said, Aldarie slowly began to leave the council chambers.

The giant sighed as he left, going to his shrine to remove the armour; similar to dawning, it
took awhile, needing different prayers as he removed it. As he was finished, he returned to
his chambers, hoping that Elronhir would be there when he returned.

Elronhir was indeed waiting for him as he entered " Fulæm! Your back!" He said, hugging
the giant, "How was the council?"

"Not good! Tal-whin was invaded by "he let out a sigh as he explained what he had seen in
the recording.

"Giant humans?" Elronhir asked, shocked. Obviously, he was connecting those words with
the body of his partner.

" Yes, shorter than me, however, at least according to the recording and the rangers. They...
massacred the Exodites! Adults and children!" He shook his head in rage!

Elronhir frowned, hugging his partner tighter. "So, you’ll be leaving in the morning?" He
asked softly.

" yes! I’m leading the force, mostly aspect warriors and war walkers, there's a webway gate
on Tal-whin, a direct connection, if all goes according to plan, we should return in a few
cycles"

"You'll be safe, right? You're strong but not immortal," Elronhir said, frowning. He asked,
concerned for his partner’s security.

" I’ll act as safe as I can. I have all the intentions of returning home safely. " he promised
softly.

" good because I cannot imagine what I’d do without you." Elronhir said hugging him again
tighter
“ and I couldn’t imagine what I’d do without you as well.” Fulæm whispered into Elronhir's
long pointed ears .

" Will you tell your father about this?" Elronhir asked, frowning as Fulæm gently brushed his
hair.

" I don’t know; I know that I should, but I don’t want him to worry too much." He sighed.

" I think you should tell him—perhaps invite him over tonight!" As Fulæm sighed, Elronhir
suggested.

" You're most likely correct! I shall invite him over so we may discuss it." Fulæm sighed,
going over to the chamber consul and sending a request to his father’s chambers, asking if he
would meet him here! "You're most likely correct! I shall invite him over so we may discuss
it; if something were to happen to me, I wouldn't want him to wonder why I never told him."
Fulæm sighed, going over to the chamber consul and sending a request to his father's
chambers, asking if he would meet him here! "There, I notified him, and I hope he comes
soon, as I have to prepare for the battle."

Indeed, his adopted father did arrive soon, and as he saw his son, he smiled softly. " My son,
why have you called?" He asked softly as he entered the large chamber, giving a small nod to
Elronhir.

" Father, I don’t know how much you have heard, but I'm leading a war host to reclaim and
avenge the Exodite of Tal-whin." He said this as he sat down on a chair to be on the same
level as everyone else. " I’m leaving in the morning!"

Tenlyth nodded, frowning. "What will you be facing?" He asked softly.

" humans"

"Those of their new empire?"

" yes. At least, that is what we believe. They're known as the Luna wolves, and they appear to
be giants... similar but smaller to me." Fulæm said, gripping his wine cup tightly and barely
avoiding breaking it.
.
" you mean others like you, others, living weapons?"

" I think so; when the battle is done, I may take one of their bodies and compare it to mine.
See if they have two hearts as well!" The giant said simply, " I imagine that after the battle,
my war host will be there to help rebuild, giving me enough time to examine one of these
monsters."

Tenlyth nodded, frowning " please be safe! You're my son, weapon or not, and I do care
about you!"

" father! You know I’ll be safe. ""I'll return home as soon as I can, with tales of victory!"
Fulæm promised, "And besides, I have a partner, and I’m never leaving him."

Elronhir blushed, smiling at his partner and saying, "Thank you!" He whispered softly.

Fulæm now looked at his father and said, " I’m sorry that I must ask this, but could you
leave? I have a lot of issues to attend to before the morning."
Tenlyth chuckled lightly. "Of course!" He said, standing up, giving his adopted son one more
hug, " We’ll meet when you return."

As he left, Elronhir frowned and asked, "Should I leave as well?" Fulæm shook his head.

"No, unless you wish to. I have to renew my scar, which may take awhile, and collect the
blood from it, for the war runes." As he began undressing, he pulled out a smaller blade and
grabbed the pigment. " Do you wish to help?" He asked

Elronhir nodded, grabbing a ritual bowl as they worked together, Fulæm redoing his scar and
Elronhir collecting the blood from it before Fulæm mixed in the pigments in the open wound.
It was a long and tedious process, but in the end, they got it redone. Fulæm smiled softly as
he sat on the ground. They were closer in size " I’m going to miss you!" He said softly,
kissing him, that he whispered.
gently.

"We'll be back together soon," Elronhir said, leaning against him. He promised

Fulæm nodded softly and said, "We shall!" He promised to come back. They stayed like that
until Fulæm had to leave to don his armour and meet the war host.

Fulæm stood in front of the war host, about one hundred aspect warriors from the shrine:,
five war walkers, ten wave serpents, one farseer, and six warlocks. For a warhost, it was
massive. He summoned each aspect warrior and drew the rune for war over the already
drawn rune corresponding to that aspect, muttering a simple blessing as he did so. Battle
rituals were a solom affair; they knew the gods they prayed to were mostly dead, but the
ritual was a bonding experience, with the war hosts becoming like siblings in Khaine's blood,
represented by the Autarch 's own blood.

"Siblings, I have told you our plan is to hunt these monsters into smaller groups, and then
rain death upon them. I do not know exactly how many there will be. But I know that we will
overcome them." Fulæm said as he finished raising his right mirror sword up: "Death to our
foes!" He called as his war host echoed it.

They had laid the trap, and the heavy weapons and support were waiting in designated killing
zones around the area. as the chasers began to stalk their prey. The humans within the white
armour, these Luna wolves, were indeed large and threatening, but as the reports suggest,
they were indeed smaller than Fulæm. They carried bulky, ugly weapons not made for any
artistic reason other than to kill. Fulæm despised them, as he watched from a huge tree
branch, a skill he had learned from his training with the scorpions. He gave a silent gesture to
the exarch of the shining spears, who nodded; the chase was about to commence. His plan
had indeed worked almost flawlessly, using hit-and-run tactics to draw them out and quickly
dispatch them, leading to only a few survivors who had quickly retreated, with only one
casualty.

Fulæm had called for a celebration, upon the Exodite world. They had won, well, almost
completely, minimizing casualties and maximizing enemy fatalities—a decisive victory. It
was decided that they would stay for a while to help rebuild and improve the defences of the
Exodite world. However, as night fell, Fulæm couldn’t help but think of the reaction that the
humans had to him when they first saw him, almost total terror. They shook as if one of their
own gods had come down to destroy them—a curious reaction but one that he would ponder
another night.

Upon a Gloriana Class Battleship known as the Vengeful Spirit, two demigods where talking,
the first dressed bald, and dressed with a pelt of a great wolf upon his shoulders, held an air
of authority unquestion by anyone. The second slightly taller than that of his brother, with
long hair as golden as a field of wheat blessed by a rising sun, and perfect features only
ascribed to the gods of old, and thé oddest feature a pair of wings upon his back. Sanguinius
had been under Horus’s tutorship for two standard Terran years, since he was rediscovered by
their father upon Baal, joining his Brother and his legion in the great crusade. Although he
was not the only one outside of Horus legion to have joined in with the first found son.

“ Brother, do you know when we shall rediscover our still missing brothers?” Sanguinius
asked Horus.

“ no I do not. The galaxy is large and we where scattered far.” Horus said simply. “ you
where the latest we had found.” He added as a knock was heard upon the door “ you may
enter!” Horus called out as a astropath entered bowing at the Primarchs

“ my lords… we’ve received dire news from the 55th company, sent to secure a maiden
world from that of the xenos!” He said his voice betraying his worry.

“ And what is so dire about it?” Horus asked, eyes piercing.

“ they where whipped out, almost to a man by the savage craftworld kin,” he said simply as
the Primarchs turned to each other.

“ whipped out?” Sanguinius, asked clearly surprised by that development, a whole company
being whipped, was a rare event.

“Yes… my lord.” The Astropath said simply, clearly nervous.

Horus simply frowned, stroking his chin. “ hmm. What of the survivors?” He asked

“ regrouping on their voidcraft.”

Horus thought for a long time maiden worlds where rare and valuable to the imperium, each
carefully designed to support life and wasted upon xenos savages. He turned to his angelic
brother. “ Sanguinius… I would wish for you to lead the reclamation effort.”
Sanguinius looked shocked “ me, Alone?” He asked, feeling both honoured and surprised.

“ Yes, I am certain that you are ready enough.” Horus said, offering his brother a smile.

“ I’d be honoured to.” Sanguinius said with a smile. “ I shall not disappoint!” He promised.

Horus nodded “ you mang lead the 46th and 35th company. Considering that they had
managed to whip out a singular company it’s best not to take any chances. The Eldar can be
dangerous; they fight with the ferocity of a cornered beast.”

Sanguinius nodded “ of course brother. I will not let you down.” He promised

“ No, I know you won’t!” Horus said, putting a hand on Sanguinius' shoulder proudly. “ I
trust you.”

The angel smiled softly as he began to get ready for his first mission without his brother.

The Angelic Primarch and his brother's company arrived several days later to reinforce the
remaining 55 company members. Only six had survived, most with serious injuries that were
just starting to heal. However, when they saw the reinforcements arrive, led, albeit not by
their primarch, by a primarch, they were in awe. " Primarch Sanguinius. It’s an honour to be
led by you!" Karrur, the highest-ranking Astarte, spoke as he rose to salute the Primarch.

" It is an honour as well!" Sanguinius said, offering an almost perfect smile. " Now what’s the
situation? The astropath was vague on the specifics!"

" Xenos led us apart into smaller groups and then... slaughtered almost all of us. We barely
even got a chance to fight back." He said simply as another Astarte sat up and frowned.

"If I may, Primarch. That wasn’t our biggest concern." The astarte said as his eyes shifted
around to his brothers `` it's by what they where led by!"

Sanguinius frowned slightly at the tone of his voice: "What do you mean, what led them?"

" a giant... similar in size to a Primarch! And with their skills, they were the main killer of
anyone who survived the bombardment." He said this while looking around nervously, as if
he expected this creature to come and destroy him.

Sanguinius frowned slightly. "Is it a Primarch or just a giant the size of one?" He asked,
wanting to rule out all possibilities.

"We don’t know; they were dressed as an Eldar war leader. We couldn't see their face. the
only thing setting them apart from any other of those Xenos was the size and skill."

Sanguinius nodded and frowned slightly. " If it is a Primarch, and he was found by the eldar,
this could be more of a challenge than expected. But for the meantime, we must first conquer
this maiden world, we can examine if this giant is indeed a Primarch when we finish!"
The Astartes nodded in agreement as they let out a war cry! wanting to make both their
Primarch and their Primarch’s brothers proud of them! They arrived back on the maiden
world, the sun had set on this side, leaving it only illuminated by the two moons in the sky.
Maiden where a pleasant change from most of the worlds of the galaxy, compared to the
radiated wasteland of Baal, it was as different as a world could be. Sanguinius knew that the
eldar had, thousands upon thousands of years ago, seeded these worlds to produce the perfect
environmental conditions for a comfortable life. These worlds were paradises of untouched
vestiges of natural beauty, something that so much of humanity lacked, and something that
Sanguinius wished to give them. The whipping out of the xeno Eldar who made their home
there was a sad necessity.

Sanguinius had told his brother’s son to advance carefully and not break form. as he spread
his wings and took to the sky. The thick canopy of leaves was a double edged sword, as it
both provided cover and covered most of his vantage point. Still, the extra speed made it
worth it. As he flew, his mind went to the giant; could it really be one of his brothers, whose
capsule landed upon one of the Eldar worlds and was taken in by them? That went against
anything he had known about the Eldar; they were distrustful, devious, and most importantly,
they hated humanity, yet perhaps one of his brothers was taken in by them. He pushed that
thought out of his mind; he would deal with it later.

Through the trees, he saw some light. He tucked his wings in a little as he dove to get a better
look, it was a small gathering of eldar, about two dozen, all dressed for a war. They had likely
seen the ships coming to reclaim this world and had come to defend it. Yet one towered over
the other at twelve feet, towering over their peers. And there was the aura of greatness around
them, that he saw the Eldar being bostured by. This was most likely a Primarch… one of his
brothers, although he couldn’t tell for sure without seeing his face, which was covered by a
decorated helmet obscuring their face.

As Sanguinius thought, what to do with this possible development, He heard a whistling

sound as a shuriken disc flew past him; the eldar had spotted him; he quickly dodged; he
would have to figure out how to approach this situation later; for the time being, he had to
deal with these eldar firing on him. He dove out of the way and upon the war host, his blade
poised to strike the eldar in blue who had fired upon him, but was quickly intercepted by one
of the giant's blades, deflecting him back and saving the Aldarie's life.

Sanguinius and the other giant stared at each other, each having similar thoughts, waiting to
see who would act first! Sanguinius went for a strike as the other dodged the blade, using the
opening to return the blow with his duelling blades.

Sanguinius parried, catching one of the swords on his own as he pulled at them, attempting to
throw the other off balance.

The other jumped back, kicking the blade as he activated the matablaster, throwing sharp
shards of metal into the face of Sanguinius, not injuring the angel but distracting him for long
enough so he could regain solid footing. He readyed his two blades for the next attack in a
defensive position, staring at the other giant with rage behind the blue lens of the scorpion
mask.
Sanguinius quickly recovered from the shrapnel. He stared at the figure; this was almost
certainly a Primarch like him. Yet he had to know for sure, as they attacked, dodged, and
returned the strike over and over, Sanguinius saw an opening, so he dove in with the back end
of his sword, trying to shatter the helmet to reveal the face underneath! Through only a
millimetre, it went through with the force of a Primarch the wraithbone helmet shattered,
revealing their face.

Sanguinius had to gasp when he saw the figure in front of him. It was obviously a primarch,
and specifically the Primarch of the third legion. It was obvious as the gene line of the third,
often manifested with albinism and purple eyes, which were all percents on this face. His face
was strong, yet narrow and high, with high cheekbones, thin lips, and an aura of superiority
only dampened by the red blood rune upon his forehead and the absolute hatred within his
piercing violet eyes.

The angel hadn't had much time to stare before the mask was shattered, and he felt himself
fly to the ground as the other Primarch took advantage of the opportunity to strike him across
the face. " brother!!" Sanguinius called out, hoping to end this conflict without more
bloodshed.

The other Primarch stared at him, his blades ready to continue. Sanguinius stood up, holding
his sword, and dropped it to the ground, in a gesture of peace. " Brother!" He said it again,
more gently, as the Aldarie quickly recovered from their shock of the battle and waited for
their leader's next move.

The white haired Primarch seemed to understand his words enough. "Brother?" He asked, his
high Gothic, thick with the Aldarie accent. Confirming Sanguinius fears that he was raced by
them.

" yes." Sanguinius said he wished Horus was here because he was always the most
diplomatic of the Sons of the emperor.

"I have no brothers or sisters, and none within the Monkeigh!" The violet eyes of the white-
haired Primarch narrowed with confusion, clearly recognizing the similarities between them.

"Please, brother! I can explain!" Sanguinius said, taking a moment to understand the thick
ascent.

The other Primarch paused for a long moment, obviously thinking. " We may talk. If you call
off your monsters And swear not to bother Tal-whin!" He said he was taking a moment to try
to properly explain his demand in a language that was not his first.

For a brief moment, Sanguinius considered that the recovery of a primarch was infinitely
more important than the concurring of a planet, even if it was a maiden world. He nodded, " I
promise that the imperium shall retreat from this world, and leave it to its inhabitants! On my
authority as a Primarch," he said honestly, putting his hand to his chest.

"If you wish to speak with me, you must come with us, alone," the other Primarch said,
nodding. He said simply as he fully removed his helmet, letting the long white hair fall to his
shoulders, he was definitely the Primarch of the Third Legion.
" Of course!" Sanguinius said as he picked up his sword from the ground and placed it back
into its sheath. He watched as his brother, speaking in perfect Aldarie, spoke to the warrior,
most likely telling them that he was bringing him along. They seem to respect his brother,
looking at him as their commander, something he had never expected the eldar to do. He
followed them, trying to figure out what he would say.

Fulæm, despite his calm exterior, was freaking out. When he saw the humans' ships
returning, he mustered a small force to scout it to gauge the situation before making any
hasty plans. It had all descended into chaos, with The winged human that they had spotted,
wings where a surprise to be sure, but it wasn’t unheard of that during the old empire, aldarie
would receive surgery to grant them wings and the ability to fly, which, while unusual, was
not impossible. But it was his size that surprised him the most: he was as big as he was, and
he had fought just as well.

When the winged one had broken his helmet and recoiled in shock at the sight of his face, he
expected it was because he was human, so he used that opening to get in a punch. It was dirty
, but sometimes you had to fight dirty. Yet what had surprised him more was what the winged
one called him: brother.

He had learned the main human language about 20 cycles ago. He was fully fluent but hadn't
used it much, so he let the first one go because he thought he had misheard. But when he said
it again, he realized that was what he meant and that he had called him his brother. As he
returned his gaze, he hated to admit that he had a point—two giants—two weapons of war
created in the same laboratory. Fulæm sighed; he would deal with this and see what the
winged one had to say, and if worse came to worse, he would hold him as ransom upon the
craftworld.

They had arrived at the base where the war host was stationed, with the remaining Exodites.
It was very simple, both in design and because the planet had recently lost so many people.
Yet as the Autarch , he had his own private tent, the largest, large enough for the two giants.
As he entered, he silently gave a gesture to two banshees to guard the exit as they talked.

Fulæm went to his seat in a large lounge chair as he poured himself some wine, notably not
offering one to the winged one.

" now!" He said, turning to him, "You claim you're my brother?"

The angel nodded, " yes! In a way, we were created by the Emperor as his sons." He said
simply.

Fulæm gasped, shooked. " Created?" Although they had suspected it for some time, having it
confirmed was a different matter, especially by the creature who was leading these monsters
that had destroyed his people.

" yes. Twenty sons for twenty legions. Each was designed specifically to be the perfect
embodiment of human potential." The winged one said looking at him intensely.
Fulæm huffed, "As if I’d believe that, then tell me why, if I am the son of your emperor, why
was I not upon your home planet?"

"We were all scattered across the galaxy by traitors while we were still in our incubation
capsules; you must've landed on this world." The winged one said simply that he was quietly
thinking that this brother must’ve had the nicest world.

Fulæm shook his head " I wasn’t found here; I’m only here defending it from you and your
monsters. "I was discovered and raised upon a craftworld."

The angel's eyes lit up slightly as he then frowned and said, " I apologize for what they did to
the Xenos of this world." It sounded genuine, which made Fulæm glare more.

" Then why did you?"

" I wasn’t the one who commanded the first force; in fact, they are not my legion or my sons;
they are the legion of our brother, Horus!"

Fulæm frowned. "What do you mean, son’s?" He asked.

"We Primarchs serve as genetic foundations for the members of our legions, fathers if you
will!"

Fulæm frowned even more as he pondered: If he were one of them—one of these Primarchs,
would that mean he had his own legion? A legion of monsters like the ones who killed his
kin. He pushed that thought aside as he demanded, "Now where is this Horus?"

" Pretty far away. I can take you to see him. He'd also be better at explaining the situation of
us, the Primarchs, and the Imperium."

"Let my self be captured aboard an enemy vessel; even if you are my brothers by creation,
you are still an enemy of my people and a murderer," Fulæm chuckled. He then went back to
his native tongue, knowing the other would not know, "Nil ann ach cleasai, agus tá an iomad
measa aige air féin." The trickster thinks too much of himself.

The angel only stared back at him, wondering what his brother had said. He sighed. This was
a foolish offer, but desperate times call for desperate measures, and the reclamation of a
Primarch, especially that of the third, was as desperate a situation as it could be. " Brother, if
you will not come to meet Horus, I shall come with you to your home as a prisoner. I shall
contact our brother, and we can arrange a meeting together. You'll have the benefit of having
it as your homeworld... or well, your craftworld and a hostage."

Fulæm was taken aback by that response—to willingly become a hostage of an enemy force?
This was a good offer because he would have a captive as well as a source of information to
learn more about the situation. " Your offer seems fair, and I will admit I'm curious about...
everything. Yet do you promise to not harm my people in any way?" He demanded

" Yes. I swear upon my honour." The angel replied by simply putting his hand to his chest. " I
shall be the perfect captive. All I ask is that you treat me with respect as a prisoner." He had
 heard stories of what some of the eldar did to their captives, although he didn’t know if it was
all of them or just a few select groups. " I will also tell you what I can about us."

" I must trust you in this, but only this. You will be treated well, as the guest of an Autarch,"
Fulæm said simply as the angel nodded.

"Thank you!" He said simply that he knew it was dangerous, but a part of him knew he would
be in no danger. He took a deep breath. He assumed that Autarch was some sort of title. " My
name is Sanguinius. He paused for a moment, wondering if the Eldar even used names. "
What may I call you, brother?"

" Fulæm!"

Chapter End Notes

Hope you enjoyed

 when demigods walk upon the mortal plane
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Sanguinius stopped for a moment while he tried to figure out what the name was because of
his brother's thick accent. "Fulgrim?" He asked as that is what he had heard.

Fulæm glared at him as he repeated, "Fulæm!" He said it more firmly this time.

" Fulgrim," Sanguinius said he had tried to pronounce it, but it was near impossible without
being fluent in Aeldari.

Fulæm glared a bit more, he would not fight more on his name as he knew how hard Aeldari
was for weaker species, which while he wasn’t his so-called brother definitely was in this
aspect. "Sanginius... " he tried on his lips; it was a heavy name, with the implication of blood
and death, a name of ill omens; even saying it left a taste of blood in his mouth.

Sanguinius nodded. " yes!" He then frowned slightly and said, "Before we leave, I have to
inform our brother’s sons of this situation."

Fulæm frowned slightly. " You can write them a letter that my war host can deliver to your
brother’s sons!" It is evident to Sanguinius that his brother wouldn't let him go; it was a
sound tactical decision but showed the distrust he had for Sanguinius as well. he hoped that
while he was his captive, he would become more relaxed around him.

" I suppose that is reasonable. I will need ink and parchment. " Sanguinius asked as Fulæm
stood up and got some for him. he noticed a small distortion of light around his brother and
noticed that it had some sort of barely viable shield generator on it, but as he looked at it, he
could see the small shimmer of light reflecting, thanks to Aeldari Tech, and he guessed that
he trusted him even less than he let on. His brother returned with a parchment and a writing
device. Sanguinius took it and used it to write a letter.

-To my brother Horus Lupercal, Primarch of the Luna wolves:

I first have to apologize for not being able to secure the maiden world. But I have found
something even more important to attend to—I found one of our brothers! The Primarch of
the third legion But recovery will not be as easy as our other brothers.

His incubation capsule appeared to have landed on an Eldar craftworld. And he was taken in,
if he was used as a weapon, I do not know for certain, but I expect as much. He is hostile to
any talks of bringing him to your flag ship, so we’ve reached a compromise. I will follow
him to his homeworld as a hostage until you meet us there so we can discuss the situation
more in-depth. I would ask for you to notify Father, despite the fact that he is currently within
an opposite star system, so he may begin setting his course toward our location.
I know this is a dangerous situation, being held captive on a Xenos ship, but I have enough
trust in our brother that he would not let any harm come to me. And if the worst were to
occur, I would trust in my skills to defend myself. But I also must trust that when you receive
this message, you’ll act quickly.

-
Sanguinius

When the angel finished his letter, he could feel his brother reading it over his shoulder,
making sure that he was not misrepresenting the situation.

" Is this acceptable?" Sanguinius asked as Fulæm nodded.

"Yes. Although I think I should send one of my forces to lead your brother to my Craftworld,
one of the rangers should show that as long as he means no more harm to my people, I’m
willing to work with you and him. " Sanguinius was surprised by this; if anything, it showed
that his brother was willing to at least try to work with him, so he quickly added that to the
letter!

Sanguinius gave him a brotherly smile. " I have finished the letter," he said, handing it to
Fulæm who quickly left the tent to hand it off to a ranger. While he was gone, Sanguinius
looked around the tent, which still told him a lot about his brother despite being a temporary
residence. Small comfort items were scattered around the tent, along with a portrait.
Sanguinius approached it slowly; it was painted in an almost Renaissance style, with perfect
detail and compassion; it showed his brother holding hands with a male, though he couldn't
tell that it was Eldar. They were holding hands and looking at each other with loving
expressions. It looked sweet and tender.

He was about to grab the portrait but backed away as he heard his brother return. " The
ranger has set off to deliver your letter." He then paused as he saw Sanguinius about to take
his portrait. Instead of rage, he only let out a painful sigh. " I see that you have found my
portrait," he said, smiling sadly.

" Who is it?" Sanguinius asked softly.

"It's me and my quena," he said, pausing for a moment, trying to find the best word in high
Gothic for such a large concept. "The closest translation would be partner, Elronhir. I painted
it for our five-cycle anniversary." Fulæm said, going over to it with a smile.

That answer surprised Sanguinius . he cursed his lack of knowledge of the Eldar language
and culture for not knowing exactly what that word meant—was it platonic, romantic, or
something else entirely? Yet, by the way, his brother talked, it sounded at least a little
romantic. He instead moved to a different question: "You painted it?" He asked softly

Fulæm nodded " I did!"

"It's... beautiful, absolutely incredible! You are very talented, brother. I’ve tried my hand at
art, and I can see your skill!" He said this while smiling at Fulæm who smiled ever so slightly
at those words.
" When we arrive at my home, if you wish, I can show you some of my other works of art.
I’ve walked all the Ai'elethra of artists." He said this with a slight grin.

Sanguinius again had to interpret the Eldar language, but he managed to understand the
basics: "An artist?"

" Yes, I was. I advanced enough to quickly work through it, and as such, I went into the
shrines of Khaine and became an Autarch. I still paint and crave it in my free time. It’s good
to clear the mind."

Sanguinius nodded, " I assume Autarch is a title?"

"Yes, the one who has walked many paths of war," Fulæm said, nodding. "We serve as war
leaders."

War leaders? At least he understood how to lead, if he could just be convinced to leave the
eldar and join with his brothers and their father in the great crusade, he could lead his sons.
But the more he spoke, the more he realized that his brother was entranced by the Xenos.
This was worrisome.

Fulæm nodded, frowning slightly. "Come on! I will have to take you to the craftworld soon!"
He said it simply as he started to grab his stuff and pack it neatly.

As Fulæm packed, Sanguinius realized something the subject of his wing had not been
brought up; usually, that was the first question someone had about him. " You never even
asked me about my wings..." he muttered under his breath, not expecting his brother to hear
him.

Fulæm turned his violet eyes, looking at him piercingly: " I’ve been to the dark city; believe
me when I say this: a human with wings is not even close to the most unnatural thing I’ve
seen." He said truthfully about four cycles ago he had accompanied a small negotiation force
to the city of Commoragh, one of the last bastions of the old empire. It was certainly an
interesting experience.

Sanguinius shrugged slightly, his wings brushing the tent. "I appreciate you not making a big
deal out of it," he said, slightly chuckling, "our brother who was discovered before me,
Mangus the Red, well, he has red skin, and with his psychic might, he is quite a sight!"

Fulæm nodded. "A seer, huh?" "My father is a warlock, a seer," he said simply, realizing he
meant adoptive father. He looked at the figure in front of him, he looked and sounded so
normal, especially for a Primarch, yet he was still skilled. He remembered their fight; he
fought like an eldar, relying more on his skill than his physical strength, dodging his strikes,
and in a particularly impressive move, he had jumped upon Sanguinius ' sword for just a
moment, both keeping him safe and allowing him to strike. His mind wandered to those of
the third legion; they had a culture of duelling with swordplay, and he knew that if he could
just convince him to join his sons, Sanguinius would lead his sons well and to countless
victories.
Fulæm had packed his few items. "Are you ready?" He asked, not wanting to slow down for
any humans.

Sanguinius nodded, " am, lead the way!"

At the exit of the tent, Fulæm paused. " I’ll have to transport you in a wave serpent! It’s not
that I don’t trust, which I don’t. But it’s for the safety of our secrets."

Sanguinius expected this; from what he knew of the Eldar, they were a secretive bunch, and
his brother seemed to be the same. He sighed ever so slightly, but then smiled and said, "Lead
the way!"

Sanguinius had surpassingly enjoyed the ride in the falcon. His brother and some other Eldar
warriors had joined him. They had talked—well, he and his brother had—but he wasn’t
certain that the eldar knew the language of high gothic or that they didn’t want to grace him
with conversation. As such, they had only watched the two giants talk hands upon their
weapons in case he would try anything.

Yet as the two giants talked, they both relaxed, Sanguinius even got a small, genuine laugh
out of his brother. he also noticed that as the falcon travelled, it didn’t have the familiar
feeling of the warp; if anything, it was remarkably peaceful.

Sanguinius ' eyes went to his brother's blades; he had never seen such blades before, long yet
thin, not made to overpower an enemy but to be faster and out-skill their opponent. The
blades themselves were a work of art, made out of what appeared to be silver, he hadn’t
gotten a good look at them, but he had seen engravings upon them. The more that Sanguinius
looked around at the Eldar warriors, the more he realized all the small patterns painted upon
the armour, which were invisible unless in the correct lighting.

Fulæm then sighed, " I’ll have to get another scorpion helmet! since someone broke it!" He
said it with a small glare.

"I apologize for that, I just wanted to see if you were really one of my brothers," Sanguinius
said awkwardly his wings hitting the roof of the wave serpent.

Fulæm sighed " I’ll have to go to the shrine and do the ritual again..." he muttered.

Sanguinius nodded. "If there’s anything I can do to aid you, I will!" "I will go where I lodge;
I don't need much sleep," he said after a brief pause. But I'd rather not be confined to a
cramped cell!

Fulæm thought, "If my partner is alright with it, you may lodge in our quarters! It’s the only
place really set up for people of our height."

Sanguinius smiled slightly, and his brother's offer touched him in a way because it meant he
trusted him a little. "If you wanted me... I’d love that!" Fulæm nodded. they felt the serpent
stop as Fulæm stood up, turning to his war host.
" Go and tell the seer council and the war council about this situation," Fulæm said In the
aeldari language, the back door of the falcon opened the docking station. As they left, Fulæm
sat back down and said, " I’m waiting here with you till the council comes."

"War and seer council?" said Sanguinius, nodding. He asked softly, wanting to learn more
about how this craftworld was governed.

Fulæm nodded. "There are three councils: that of the warrior who governs in war, that of the
civilian who governs during peace. And the seers advise them both."

Sanguinius nodded and said, "And you're a part of the war council!" He asked

" yes! It's part of my job as an Autarch."

Sanguinius frowned. "Are there ever enough times of peace so that the civilian council can
rule?"

Fulæm chuckled, "Quite often, when you're not constantly at war!" He said it with a glare.

Sanguinius frowned: " The human race needs safety, and the only way is through our
unification."

"Unification or eradication and subjugation?"

"The Eldar had an empire as well!"

" yes… and we didn’t go around conquering and eradicating every species. It was mostly just
the core worlds. But I agree with you on that. Empires in this galaxy are a fundamentally
terrible idea!"

Sanguinius was shocked by that. He was about to ask for clarification on that. But the council
quickly arrived

" Autarch Fulæm, why have you brought this…" Kayshæ asked with a snarl on her face.

"Sister in Khaine, this human... is most likely my brother. Well, as close as a brother, a
creature such as I can have!" Fulæm responded, "He is my hostage; try and get one of my
other so-called brothers to come and promise to leave our people and our kin alone!"

Kayshæ frowned for a moment but then sighed, "Normally, I would question your judgment,
in this Autarch, but as an Autarch, you have the right to do what you believe is best for the
common good! I assume you will take responsibility for your ‘brother’s actions!" She asked.

Fulæm nodded, "Yes, I Will!"

"And where will it be staying?" She asked

"With me, if my partner is agreeable with it!"

Kayshæ nodded. "Your partner has been concerned about you; almost every cycle, he
approached me and inquired about your condition!" She chuckled ever so slightly.

"Well, I’m happy to say that I'm in decent condition both physically and mentally. Just
confused!"

Kayshæ nodded a little sympathetically at her fellow Autarch. She then turned to Sanguinius
and inquired in her broken high Gothic. " Do you have anything to add?"

Sanguinius thought for a moment, it was both dangerous and at the same time an exciting
proposition to get to learn more about his brother and the mysterious and secretive Eldar.
"No, I'm just grateful for your people's hospitality!" He said, giving a small bow as he spoke.

"Behave yourself! The only reason that I dare to let a monster like you step upon the
craftworld is because Autarch Fulæm vouched for you!" She glanced at the two giants. She
also noticed the similarities between these two giants, and she did not like what that implied.
" You'll be treated with respect, as my fellow Autarch has requested!"

Sanguinius thought that if an eldar was captured by the imperium, especially someone of a
similar rank to him, would they have been treated with the same respect? He doubted it.

Fulæm nodded, saying, " Come follow me closely! The craftworld is very easy to get lost in
if you aren’t connected to it." He said simply as he gestured to his brother and left the wave
serpent.
Sanguinius' eyes widened slightly as he took in his surroundings, including the docking bay.
He could see the fundamental difference between the craftworlds and anything the imperium
made, while the imperium built their ships and pretty much everything else strong and
imposing as if spitting on the gods that the imperial truth condemned. Yet everything the
Eldar built seemed almost organic in design, spiralling and organic with a constant hum, as if
it were alive in some way.

Fulæm let out a deep sigh. " It's good to be back home!" He turned to Sanguinius and asked,
"Where did you come from?"

" My incubation capsule landed upon an eradicated moon of a planet named Baal, it and its
moons were a toxic wasteland full of mutant raiders and scavengers," Sanguinius said simply:

Fulæm frowned slightly, not knowing what to say. He knew he was fortunate to have been
found here, but from what the other giant had said, he was even more fortunate than he had
thought. " I’m sorry!" He said simply.

Sanguinius shrugged: "It's not your fault that your capsule landed here and mine landed on
Baal, and a lot of human worlds are in a similar state." He thought this might be an opening:
"That’s why our brothers and father are doing this, to provide a future for humanity and grant
them the safety and life that your adoptive people have."

Fulæm frowned slightly; he didn't respond. He often thought of himself as a kind and
compassionate man. " I can understand that desire!" He said this after a brief moment of
walking. Only warriors or seers were allowed upon the war host docking bay, so they were
mostly alone as they walked, and Sanguinius noticed it.

"Not many Eldar here." He commented as Fulæm shrugged.

" Non-warriors are not allowed on this deck, and the majority of the host remains on Tal-
whin." As the Autarch said, they left the warrior deck on that of the civilians, and he was
almost surprised by Elronhir as his partner quickly enveloped his lower chest in a hug.

" Fulæm! I heard that you have returned!" Elronhir said, hugging his giant partner.

" I have," Fulæm said gently, picking him up. In addition, he was brushing his partner's long
hair behind his pointed ears. He then paused and asked, "Have you heard why?" He asked.

Elronhir shook his head. " No, he looked a little worried. As Fulæm explained the situation
with his supposed brother, Elronhir finally looked away from his partner and gasped slightly
as he saw the winged giant!

Sanguinius was watching this with a small smile. He had never expected to see a Primarch
with a lover and a Primarch with a Xenos, yet they both seemed to care for each other even
though he could not understand their worlds. As Elronhir glanced at him, Sanguinius only
gave him a small nod. Not knowing if he would know high Gothic, he just simply smiled.

Elronhir turned back to his partner. "He... does have a similar feeling to you!" He admitted he
was trying to make sense of everything his partner had said. "So, you're the son of the
human… emperor?" He asked.

" probably… well as much as a son that a laboratory creature such as I can be. But according
to Sanguinius " he gestured to the angel, saying, "He was the one who created us!"

Elronhir frowned more "And how many other children are there?" he asked.

"Twenty!"

Elronhir frowned but then brushed his partner’s hair, saying, "Even if you do have nineteen
brothers, you're still my partner."

"And you're mine," Fulæm said, with a small grin. He hugged him tighter, although not too
tight to break every bone within his body, which he could quite easily do! " also. Would you
mind if Sanguinius stayed in our quarters while he was on this craftworld? It's the only place
that's truly designed for people our size!"

Elronhir turned his attention to Sanguinius, who was examining him and his wings. He let out
a sigh and nodded, " I suppose he can. Might be a challenge since I can’t speak the Monkeigh
language!"

" I can translate for you!" Fulæm said, smiling softly, that the insult of monkeigh didn’t even
bother him anymore; he knew that he wasn't counted among them.

Elronhir nodded and said, "Okay." He smiled softly, looking up at his partner.
Fulæm turned to Sanguinius "My quena has agreed that you may stay at our quarters till we
wait for your brother to arrive!"

Sanguinius nodded and said, "Thank you!" He said his voice was as soft as he could make it,
honestly appreciating it.

Elronhir didn't understand what the words meant, so he simply nodded and looked up at the
angel. " Sanguinius?" He asked, wanting to be sure.

Sanguinius nodded, "Yes, Elronhir?" He asked back.

Elronhir nodded.

Fulæm smiled ever so slightly but turned back to his partner, "Does my father know I’ve
returned?" He wondered what his father would think about this whole situation.

Elronhir shook his head. "I'm not sure if he does, what will you tell him?" He asked

Fulæm shrugged. "The truth is, just because the creature that created me is the human
emperor doesn’t mean he’s not my father."

Elronhir nodded. "So that’s the only thing your egoism doesn't extend to?" He asked jokingly.

Fulæm chuckled, "No! Why would I wish to be that compared to an Aeldari ?" He then
turned to Sanguinius and said, "Come!" He said it in high Gothic. He led Sanguinius through
the twisting hallways of the craftworld. Sanguinius had to admit that the craftworld was
breathtaking; he saw small gardens and other natural vestiges as they walked!

" Is everything on this vessel artificial?" Sanguinius asked.

"The craftworld itself is made from wraithbone. A psycho plastic organic material is grown
from Sha'eil"

"Sha'eil?"

"The wrap. But wraithbone is a self-repairing material that can easily be formed into a
multitude of forms, such as my armour!" He gestured toward his blue-green armour. " Of
course, we have small parks, as any world should have." He said, smiling, " Elronhir was
actually on the path of the gardener when we met!"

Sanguinius had to admit these ships felt less artificial than the imperial ships he was familiar
with, although he supposed they had to be, with an entire planet's worth of people living upon
it, hardly setting foot upon the surface for their whole lives. "I'll give you that, it's quite
impressive!"

Fulæm nodded. "It is. "He spoke as they reached their chambers Sanguinius noticed how
richly decorated it was—despite a few smaller furnishings around, everything was sized for a
Primarch! It seemed his brother enjoyed luxury. " You know how to decorate your chambers
well, brother!" He said, offering Fulæm a smile.
" Of course it is, I always love to make my living spaces as perfect as possible!" Fulæm then
sighed, "Forgive me, but I forgot that I have to go to the shrine of the Autarch to do the ritual
of undoing." He turned to Elronhir, and in Aeldari he asked, "Would you be okay if
Sanguinius stayed here with you?" He asked, frowning slightly.

Elronhir nodded, " I can!" He said softly that he was clearly nervous about the idea but
understood that his partner wouldn’t have put him in this situation if he didn’t know he’d be
safe. Fulæm nodded, kneeling down and giving him a quick kiss before he left for the shrine.

Elronhir looked up at Sanguinius with his narrow black eyes. This was uncomfortable, to say
the least. Several moments passed in almost pure silence as they both heard the door open.
Elronhir let out a relieved sigh, expecting it to be his partner. He went over to the door, and
his smile faded as he saw Tenlyth.

"Elronhir! It’s good to see you! I’ve heard my son has returned. Is he here?" He quickly
entered the chambers and gasped as he saw Sanguinius "Who, in Isha’s name, are you?" He
demanded.

Elronhir signed, cursing his partner’s family by both blood and adoption. "You will not
believe what your son is." He muttered before explaining it the best he could.

Tenlyth looked up at Sanguinius and muttered, "I guess whoever made my son wouldn't be
satisfied with just one... If you are as talented as he is, that is a terrifying concept."

Sanguinius sighed, "Our father made twenty of us, including me and Fulæm." After hearing
so much Aeldari, he finally got his name right. " My name is Sanguinius, Primarch of the
ninth legion." he had to admit he was a little impressed; most people, Eldar or human, were
brought low at a glance from a Primarch, yet here his brother’s adoptive father was able to
look at him with almost no effect.

" Primarch, huh, similar to the Phoenix Lords from the sounds of it. so that is what he is?" He
asked, frowning slightly.

" yes. It’s quite obvious we aren’t the baseline humans!" Sanguinius spoke a little awkwardly,
his wings fluttering.

"No, both of you are as dissimilar to the monkeigh as the monkeigh is to the Aeldari !"

Sanguinius chuckled awkwardly, "Yes, I suppose we all are; all of our brothers have their
differences, Horus has his charisma, Russ has his ferocity, I have my wings, and I suppose,
from what I know of Fulæm his perfection."

Tenlyth nodded. " I do not like the idea of my son being meant for some genocidal empire
expansion. And I’ve heard there are other giant warriors."

"Yes, the Astartes... our genetic sons, amplified with our own genetic structure."

Tenlyth nodded, frowning, "Genetic You're telling me that my son has a legion of artificial
warriors created in his image?"
Sanguinius nodded, "Yes, the third legion, created from the nobles of Terra."

Tenlyth frowned more. "Hmm, kin to warlords and murderers... it’s a wonder he turned out so
well," he muttered under his breath, which made Elronhir let out a chuckle. "What about
you? Where did you land?"

" Baal, an irradiated death world brought low by ancient wars, I unified it before my father
came."

"Kin to irradiated warlords indeed!" Tenlyth added again in Aeldari . As he said that, Fulæm
entered his quarters. He had removed his armour and dressed himself in fine violet robes
embroidered with golden threads in the emblem of a phoenix and his personal crest. The only
things he kept from his armour were the two silver blades at his side. He was perfect; every
thread of the outfit served to compliment him. When the other Primarchs tried to dress
casually, it looked forced, as if they were trying to hide who they were, but for Fulæm, it
looked as natural and graceful as anything else he did.

"It’s humorous how strong our genes are in the Astartes, the colour of the third legion is gold
and purple." Sanguinius commented.

"You mention something about sons—how each legion were the sons of their Primarch?"

Sanguinius nodded

" What are mine like?" Fulæm asked.

"The third legion is the smallest by far, only around three hundred, as a plague destroyed
most of the gene seeds. They are now mostly used as honour guards and diplomats assigned
to other legions. Mostly that of the luna wolves. As they seem to be the most agreeable to
baseline humans." There was a tinge of almost jealousy in Sanguinius' voice, which he
quickly pushed down: "They are also known for their culture of art."

Tenlyth let out a laugh: "That sounds like Fulæm!"

" What do you mean, gene-seed plague?" Fulæm asked quickly.

" I do not know the specifics of it, but massive genetic corruption in transportation, it still
considered mysterious as your gene seed is the most stable out of all the Primarchs."

Fulæm frowned slightly: "It’s odd to consider that my genetic material is being used in such a
manner... that I have a corrupted sense of the word son. Isha never wept for them as the
plague destroyed them." "Pardon me this much to take in!" he paused slightly.

Sanguinius frowned, apologetic: " I’m sorry; if you want, I can give you a moment to process
it all. He offered.

"No, it’s alright." Fulæm sighed: "It’s simply a shock." He said he was fixing his robe collar.
" to learn that you have sons, artificially created to wage war for an empire you're not a part
of."
Sanguinius saw an opening "You can still belong to it, take control of your legion and join
with our brothers."And you can protect both humanity and the eldar,"

"If your imperium cares so much about the Eldar, why would you have attacked Tal-whin?"

"If we had known how important it was to a Primarch," Sanguinius said simply.

"No, perhaps if your imperium promised that no Aeldari shall be harmed unless they are the
ones who initiate."

Sanguinius nodded, supposing that was a reasonable request. " I’m certain that it can be
arranged, and I’m certain that Horus will agree to those terms and help you convince the
emperor!"

"You're not going to join them?" Tenlyth asked quickly in Aeldari .

"No, well, I don’t exactly wish to. But if this empire can guarantee safety for this craftworld
and the others, both craftworlds and exodites, and will destroy our people if I don’t... what
choice do I have?" What he didn’t say was how a part of him wished to meet his so-called
sons, to perhaps influence them to make them better and teach them the ways of the proper
warrior, to see if he could, like his father had, raise up the beast into proper warriors.
Tenlyth nodded, frowning not enjoying the idea, as Elronhir hugged his legs and said, " I
don’t want you to. I don’t want to be separated from you."

"That will not be the case; either you could accompany me or I would spend as much time as
possible with you!" He spoke softly, hugging him gently.

Elronhir frowned. " I really do not wish to spend my time with monkeigh warriors who have
killed our kin. And I do not know why you would either!"

Fulæm sighed " I don’t, but considering what I know, I really do not believe that the
imperium will leave us in peace if I do not accept this offer! With where I might be able to
play the monstrous role I was created for, and retire back to our craftworld, where we can live
the life we always wished to!" He said, softly brushing Elronhir's hair. "Humans live so fast
that I doubt it will take more than a few cycles. But I do not know if I will for certain, I have
to know all the facts. See what this Horus has to say.

Elronhir nodded weakly, "as long as you promise not to abandon me completely."

" I never would. We may be apart, but I would write almost every cycle and return whenever
I could. Of course, I'd learn everything I could before I made the actual decision."

Elronhir nodded. "Please talk to me before you do anything!"

" I will!" He then turned to Sanguinius and said, "Forgive my apprehension. This is a very
difficult situation!"

Sanguinius nodded and said, "It is of no concern. I also understand how complicated this
situation can be. " He paused; he really wished to grow closer with his albino brother. "You
mentioned that you would show me around this craftworld? I’m quite keen on taking you up
on that offer."

Fulæm smiled ever so slightly. " I think you’ll like it! It’s quite a change from where you
claimed to come from; it’s very beautiful!"

" I don’t doubt that in the slightest." The angel paused and asked, "Will it be just us?" He
asked

" I’m not going, my son already takes up all the room everywhere he goes, I can’t imagine
two giants!" Tenlyth said, frowning, Fulæm chuckled as he asked his partner in Aeldari if he
would want to come.

Elronhir nodded. "If you're leaving eventually, I wish to spend every moment I can with
you!" He said simply, snuggling up against his giant partner.

" He's staying with us, and he knows all the best gardens," Fulæm said simply as he exited
the chambers. They had gone to the main plaza. They had obviously received a lot of
questioning glares as they walked, but they were both used to it. Sanguinius had trouble
believing he was on a void ship; trees, running water, artificial wind, and starlight all
conspired to fool his mind into thinking he was on some distant world.

"You said these vessels were meant for trade?" Sanguinius asked, sipping on a glass of wine
that Fulæm recommended.

"Yes, although not just trade, exploration, and a home for those who wished to exist outside
of the large empires, but didn’t wish to live as exodites,"

"Exodite those who live on the maiden worlds?" I also wondered why they lived in such a
primitive way.

"They chose to live in that manner... The Aeldari mind reacts badly to complicity, they chose
to remedy it through hard labour while we keep our minds occupied so we can master several
talents and continue improving ourselves.

Sanguinius nodded. " I suppose both lifestyles are noble in a way. Especially considering how
long Eldar live, it makes sense why they’d wish to live in such a manner." They walked for a
bit, only having basic conversations. Yet Sanguinius spotted a statue of an Eldar maiden
dressed in flowing silver robes with a veil covering her face, but Sanguinius could see that
she was weeping. It was beautiful in a solemn manner, and Sanguinius gestured at it, asking,
"What is that sculpture meant to represent?"

Fulæm looked at it and said, "That would be the goddess Isha, the goddess of fertility,
growth, and healing, the mother of the Aeldari race." He smiled ever so slightly as he looked
at that statue, from which the artist claimed to have drawn inspiration for his first sculpture.

Sanguinius frowned, " the Eldar have religion?" He asked.

Fulæm shrugged, " yes. Despite the fact that the Aeldari empire killed most, if not all, of the
gods, he paused and asked, "Do humans generally not believe in gods?" He asked

Sanguinius shook his head, saying, "The imperium operates under the imperial truth, that
there are no gods, no spirits, and nothing supernatural, and that the entire universe can be
understood in a rational manner." Sanguinius said.

Fulæm chuckled, "The soul is very much a thing, you hear that hum of the craftworld? That
is the infinity circuit powered by the souls of dead Aeldari, although the imperial truth is
right in one aspect, you can explain all that through the lens of rationality, yet rationality
doesn't exist upon our level." Fulæm said simply, "Some say our gods were just sentient
weapons we created billions of years ago... who take physical form." He shrugged. "There is
even a shard of a slumbering god underneath our very feet!"

Sanguinius frowned more at that: "What do you mean, a god beneath our feet?"

Fulæm chuckled, " I won’t give you that information; you're still an enemy of my people and
kin—brother or not!"

" So you accept that you're my brother?" Sanguinius asked, trying to grab at this one
connection.

" Yes, I really don’t have much of a choice but to accept it. We are so similar and obviously
descended from the same source; your brother and I must accept that. As much as the idea
worries me!"

" You're worried about your role as a Primarch?"

" yes. I much prefer to live my life peacefully here, as peaceful as an Autarch can live. " He
paused, "But I know your empire will not allow me that! As such, I have to choose between
doing what I absolutely don’t wish to do or having my people, whom I swore to protect, be
destroyed by my blood kin."

Sanguinius frowned at those words. "Perhaps instead of looking at that in that way, you
should instead see it as a chance to provide the greatest safety to the eldar; with you as one of
the emperor’s sons, you can negotiate treaties between them. Both the safety and prosperity
of mankind and the Eldar can be assured; our kinds are similar enough that peace can be
organized between us."

Fulæm nodded, "That’s a part of my condition, I will require that to even consider joining
with you in this great crusade."

"That can be arranged." I’m certain that our father will understand and agree to it!"

" The person who created us isn't my father; my father is the Aeldari who raised me," Fulæm
said with a glare that it was odd not having to constantly look down at people.

Sanguinius nodded " I understand, " he said, frowning slightly and looking around. " I envy
you, your life here seems idealistic. Everything here is as near perfection as it can be, you
have a wonderful adoptive father and an equally wonderful partner." He said this while
smiling gently at Elronhir, who was currently up tight against his partner. "Even though your
legion is small, it is the most respected..." His voice trailed off.

" What is your legion like?" Fulæm asked

" I haven’t really met them yet, but... from what I know, they aren’t the most well-regarded;
in fact, they have the unofficial title of the eaters of the dead. I want to improve them... and
bring them up to the respect and nobility of your sons, and that's what I shall do when I can
finally meet them." His voice was pained and Fulæm felt bad for him.

"If my... sons are as noble as you claim, I’d be willing to work with you and your legion to
improve it." he offered

Sanguinius ' eyes lit up "You mean that?" He asked, surprised.

" If I do join the imperium, I’d want to remove as much brutality from mankind as possible,
so yes, I would."

Sanguinius gasped slightly as he gave his brother a strong hug, with Elronhir having to jump
out of the way to not be crushed between the two Primarchs. "Thank you!"

Fulæm was surprised; he felt so odd being properly hugged by someone his size. He hugged
him back.

They had returned back to his chambers, and Elronhir pulled at Fulæm arm to get his
attention. "My love, we’ve been apart for so long, and I’ve missed your presence in our bed."
Fulæm could tell this also meant he wanted to talk to him alone.

Fulæm nodded. " I’ve also missed yours." He spoke in Aeldari and turned to Sanguinius
"Would you mind if I spent some alone time with Elronhir?" He asked

Sanguinius nodded and said, "Go right ahead!"

Elronhir pulled Fulæm into their bed chambers and locked the door. "We need to talk!"

Fulæm nodded, "We do. It’s a complex situation."

"So... you're the genetic son of the human emperor? That honestly isn’t as much of a surprise
as it should be, it was obvious from the moment I met you how different you were. But what
is surprising is your brothers."

"It also shook me." Fulæm concurred.

"Twenty," assuming they are like you and Sanguinius, is just asking for a civil war. All too
powerful with their own ideals. This can’t end well for any of us." Elronhir muttered
Fulæm sighed " I know it can’t... but either the craftworld gets destroyed, or I work with
them in the meantime. " He then paused, " Are you a seer?" He asked

"No, it’s just so obvious. Your creator, created twenty demigods, in both size and ability, and
whenever the gods involved themselves in this realm, it always ended in bloodshed."

" Then what do you suggest we do?" He asked, frowning.

"We can also just run away... Leave everything behind. Just us and your father start a new
life, at the far ends of the galaxy." Elronhir offered.

Fulæm paused, his idea seemed to make sense. It was very tempting. " But what if what you
say is true? We can never have peace." He paused, taking in what he said: "You believe I’m a
demigod?" He asked

" yes. You certainly are; I don’t know how this emperor did so, but that’s the only thing you
and your blood kin can be called!"

"Blood kin is such a loaded term, but I seriously doubt they'd leave us or our home alone!"
Fulæm said simply.

Elronhir sighed " I know they won’t." He said it softly, hugging him. " But I don’t want you
to become like them." He said weakly.

" I won’t!" Fulæm promised softly, hugging him tightly.

" I believe that you won’t, but there's a chance you might, and that scares me." Fulæm
frowned even more at these words.

" I know, but thankfully I was raised with morals among the Aeldari I know that at the least I
can keep my morals and the best I can aid them in becoming less monsters."

Elronhir nodded. "Please promise that if you do go down this road, you'll still spend time
with me… and that you won’t forget about me."

"I will never forget you, and I will make every effort to spend time with you," Fulæm
promised as Elronhir nodded.

" I believe you!" He said as he jumped down from the giant's embrace and began undressing
for sleep. " What do you think of your brother... Sanguinius ?"

" I'll admit it, I like him. He’s surprisingly kind, for a warlord from a wasteland of a moon."
Fulæm answered.

" I can’t really talk to him, but he seems to be okay!" Elronhir said, shrugging as he removed
the jewellery that he was wearing. Most Fulæm had given it to him as a gift, gold and
luxurious.

" yes. He does seem to be, but I wonder about the other Primarchs."
 " It's so odd to consider that you have nineteen brothers. Each like you. At the same time,
there are only twenty in the entire galaxy, if not the entire universe! "

" I know it’s really hard to believe; I have to wonder what the other Primarchs are like...
obviously different in body and appearance, with most likely only the height as a common
denominator.

Elronhir nodded simply as he settled into bed. " Will you sleep with me?" He asked softly.

" I’m not even close to being tired, but I think I’ll stay with you in the night. I'd like a few
quiet moments to think."

The two laid together, snuggling up against each other as Elronhir fell asleep, leaving Fulæm
alone with just his thoughts.

Chapter End Notes

So originally I’d have the meeting of Horus in this chapter, but it was quickly getting too
long, and I’d rather keep most chapters around the 6,000–10,000 range, allowing me to
update more quickly. But yeah, if you enjoy it, please leave a comment
 a change on a path

Sanguinius had spent several cycles upon the craftworld with his newly discovered brother.
Fulæm had spent most of his time showing him around the craftworld. It was indeed
beautiful, and Sanguinius had to admit that the life his brother lived was idealistic; the only
other primarch that seemed to have a life close to him was Mangus; perhaps physic
civilization fared better and was able to support their populations better. The two of them and
Elronhir had spent most of their time together. They had developed an odd form of
comradery; Fulæm was obviously still watching him out of the corner of his eyes whenever
Sanguinius was anywhere near other Aeldari.

Yet despite that, they seemed to have gotten along well. They were currently sitting at a
winery, Fulæm lounging upon a chair and holding a cup of sweet wine; he was wearing
similarly luxurious, loose-fitting clothes, with golden jewellery adorning his form.
Sanguinius was currently wearing one of Fulæm older outfits with holes for wings, as with
his wings and size he couldn’t easily receive new clothes, especially in the short term.
Elronhir was curled up against his partner, the two of them talking in Aeldari, Sanguis. As he
watched them speak, he noticed how expressive the Eldar were.

When they spoke, they had twice as many small movements as words. It was almost beautiful
in a way, and Sanguinius could see how much they cared for each other.

Fulæm turned to his brother. " Roval, do you wish to spar? We didn’t really have a chance to
when we were on Tal-whin. Fulæm had taken to calling Sanguinius Roval, which according
to him meant winged one. Sanguinius didn’t know how to feel about that nickname; it wasn’t
the aldarie that bothered him but both the familiarity and the distancing of actually using the
term brother.

" I was also thinking of that; you were very skilled when we fought," Sanguinius said,
smiling ever so slightly, that he also wanted a better view of Fulæm swords.

" And so were you." Fulæm responded as he gently petted Elronhir's hair as he stood up.
"There's a large open space for physical activity; we can duel there." He offered.

The angel nodded and said, "Lead the way!" He offered a smile as they walked. They reached
the opened area, and Fulæm looked at sanguinius "What are the terms?" He asked

"Just our swords and our skill!" Sanguinius said that as he had begun to remove his shirt as a
primarch he was actually safer without it. Fulæm did the same, showing his scars; Sanguinius
looked at them but hadn’t yet properly asked about them. " to the first blow?" He suggested
it, and Fulæm nodded as he drew his two silvery blades.

They circled each other, Fulæm ready to strike or defend at any moment. He was extremely
light on his feet, never connecting his heels to the ground as he circled, almost as if he were
dancing. Sanguinius decided to act first and went for the strike; Fulæm jumped to the side
quickly. They continued trading blows and dodging and parrying for hours; Fulæm was fast,
yet Sanguinius always managed to block him. They had both begun to sweat, something
Fulæm wasn’t used to. Aldarie had begun to gather around the demigods; Fulæm had noticed
them, and he decided to put on a little show. His movements became cockier. Sanguinius saw
the opening and, through a quick opening, managed to get in a small strike just brushing his
chest.

Fulæm sighed as he felt but then offered a smile " looks like you won."

Sanguinius smiled as well "You fought well, extraordinarily well. It’s just that at the end, you
got a little cocky. I'm certain if it were a serious fight, I’d be no match for you." He said ever
the kind person.

" I suppose i can get cocky, but you're the one that won." He said something out of breath as
he set his blades back into the scabbards. He looked around at the aeldari, who was watching
them with a smirk

"Roval, it seems that we have gotten quite a bit of an audience."

" I see. I suppose it’s not every day that the eldar see two primarchs duelling." Sanguinius
chuckled.

Fulæm smiled slightly as he turned back to Elronhir, who was watching from a bench with a
grin. " How did we look?" He grinned and asked.

" It was a duel that the craftworld will remember and speak of for thousands of cycles,"
Elronhir said, smiling happily. He then looked around and whispered to Fulæm "And as your
partner, I think you personally look very beautiful."

Fulæm blushed ever so slightly at those words, and Sanguinius, although he couldn’t
understand the exact words, only chuckled, slapping his brother on the back. " It's so odd
seeing one of my brothers in a relationship, although I will admit it is a very loving
relationship."

"You mean the other Primarchs don’t really have any relationships?" Fulæm asked.

Sanguinius shook his head. "No, I do not know exactly why. We aren’t forbidden to have
romantic relationships, but I suppose it’s mostly because we were too busy conquering our
home planets, and now of the great crusade, or just how different we are from regular
humans," he sighed. "

" What do you mean? I haven’t really been around any normal humans."

" I don’t know how to describe it, but you aged quickly, right?"

" yes"

"You know how, when it stopped, it just completely stopped, and you haven’t really changed
physically since?" Imagine if you just kept aging so quickly, and now imagine looking at that,
because that’s what it’s like."

"Oh, they have a short lifespan?" Fulæm asked for understanding.

" yes. any. Primarch, which would partner up with a human, would soon watch them age as
we stay the same."

Fulæm nodded, " I understand.."

Sanguinius nodded and asked, "How long do eldar live?"

"As long as they need to!" Was all Fulæm said?

Sanguinius shrugged; he did not know exactly what this meant, but that was typical with the
eldar, and that included his brother. He then looked at the scars; they were more like a tattoo.
" I never asked you about your tattoo."

He looked at it and said, "It’s nothing major; once any aldarie reaches adulthood, they have a
ritual scarification; everyone designs their own, and I picked the Phoenix and the Serpent, my
personal crest!"

" ah. I see!" Sanguinius said, smiling, "It looks quite impressive on you. It’s even a wonder
they managed to carve it into your skin."

" I have to redo it every once in a while, and I assume you heal fast." Fulæm said as he
redoon his robe, he looked at his brother, "Roval... can I ask you something?"

Sanguinius nodded and said, "Ask away."

"Could I possibly see how the aspect warriors fare against you? It could be a good test of skill
against both an unfamiliar opponent and one who vastly surpasses them.

Sanguinius thought for a moment that it didn’t seem like too much of an ask. And it was
obvious that it was in a sense a mutual exchange of information; he would see how a
primarch fought, and he would see how the different aspect warriors would fight. If anything,
this was an advantage to him, as the craftworld already knew how his brother would fight,
but he would learn how the multicoloured warriors would fight. " That sounds like a
wonderful plan." He said with a smile

Fulæm smiled and said, " I will ask the exarchs if they would be willing to duel. I'm
particularly curious to see how you’ll do against a swooping hawk."

Sanguinius chuckled. "It would be interesting to engage in aerial combat." They then went to
the shrines, where, surprisingly enough, several exarchs were willing to challenge the
primarch. The exarch of the dire avengers— howling banshee, swooping hawk, striking
scorpion, and the warp spider had agreed eagerly and had each called their students to watch
the duel.

It was about what Fulæm expected; while challenging Sanguinius, each of the exarchs had to
admit defeat. Fulæm chuckled slightly, going up to his brother, "You fight well, if
ungracefully and crassly."

This was his brother’s way of complimenting him. Sanguinius reminded himself, "Thank
you!" He said, wiping some sweat from his forehead. " The exarchs fought well; I can tell
they are very skilled and their combat doctrine."

Fulæm nodded " They are forever trapped, masters of the craft but unable to move on." He
said before he began walking with Sanguinius back to his chambers; as they entered Fulæm
immediately noticed the notification on his quarter's consul. " It seems Horus will be here
within a cycle." He read out his lips thin.

Sanguinius' eyes lit up slightly; he was about to say how good it was, but then he noticed the
expression on his brother's face. "Are you nervous?" He asked, and Fulæm nodded.

" I will admit that I am, by a lot. I trust that he will not harm my people, at least at this
meeting, but I don’t know what will happen to me if I do decide to join you and your
empire."

" Depending on what the emperor says, you’ll either be placed under tutelage like I was or
you’ll be given complete control of your legion. My guess is you will be given control, as
you’ve already shown. You can lead a space-faring combat force. " Sanguinius said simply,
"And then, with your sons, you will set out to help both of your people and those of
humanity."

Fulæm nodded, saying, " I will need all the details before I make a decision. I think you’ve
noticed that I have a happy life here, and I do not want to give it up."

"You do have a wonderful life here, and you will continue after it is done. You can return
here and live out the rest of eternity in peace. But this time, knowing your other brothers and
your son,"

Fulæm frowned slightly and said, "My sons!" He muttered, " I do wish to meet them to show
them its beauty. Of the Aeldari way of war, because quite honestly, your warriors need it."

Sanguinius chuckled that this was his brother, always finding the smallest opportunity to
insult mankind, but not in the way he expected the eldar to, but more in a way that showed he
wanted to improve them, make them as perfect as he believed himself to be. " I’m certain
they will like that, and that you can improve them to be even more in your image."

Fulæm nodded. "You mentioned how some of them share my looks?" He asked

"Yes, your gene-seed tends to impart albinism and violet eyes. At least, from what I have
known, I’ve met some of the Third Legion, and, well, some of them do look like you."

Fulæm nodded. He always took great pride in his appearance, so that was something that was
good to hear. " I'm still nervous about meeting this Horus."

"Don’t be; he’s one of the greatest men to have ever walked this galaxy," Sanguinius said,
smiling softly

"We have a very different concept of greatness, Roval."

"Why do you call me that?" Sanguinius asked if there was any maliciousness in the question;
he was genuinely just curious.
Fulæm thought for a moment, "Because that is how I first thought of you; and sanguinius
seems too formal when you call me brother; as such, Roval is in between."

Sanguinius nodded; that was what he expected. But he had a grin on his face. "If you're going
to give me a nickname, I suppose I should as well,Fulgrim."

"It’s alright if you do!" Fulæm said with a small smile.

Sanguinius watched his brother with interest; he had been warned that the ritual needed to be
done on the armour. It was indeed long and complex. Every new piece of armour brought a
new prayer; he could not understand the meaning of them, but there was one word that came
up almost constantly: Khaine. When he was finished, he carefully dipped his hand in black
war paint and drew a runic symbol on his forehead. As Fulæm finished, he turned to
Sanguinius with a small smirk, "You really waited throughout the whole ritual?" He asked.

"Yes, I did, and it was quite fascinating, " sanguinius paused. " Who is Khaine?" He asked

"Kaela Mensha Khaine, the bloody-handed God, god of murder, and the one who gave us
many aspects of war," Fulæm said simply.

" Do you worship a god of murder?" Sanguinius asked, shocked.

" Yes, because all war is the domain of murderers, there’s no use trying to separate it."

"So do the Aeldari consider themselves murderers when they go into war?"

Fulæm nodded, "Yes, that’s why all those up on the path of the warrior have to develop a war
mask, a shield of disassociation when they go into combat. Exarchs are the ones who cannot
take off that mask and are forever stuck on the path of the warrior." With that, he left the
shrine, only gesturing for Sanguinius to come with him.

They walked to the deck of the outsiders. Sanguinius had noticed how tense his brother
looked. "Don’t be so nervous." He whispered, "It’s our family." Fulæm turned back to him
with a slight glare.

"It might be yours, but mine is here already." Fulæm said simply, with a glare. Sanguinius
would argue with him about only shrugging and flapping his wings slightly. The rest of the
war council began to make their way there as well. They all wished to see this meeting,
which could be either a glorious meeting of two people or a conflict of nightmares. Fulæm
eyes widened slightly as he saw his father also come to the deck. " father?" He was surprised
to see him there.

" If you think I’m going to miss this Fulæm, you are gravely mistaken," Tenlyth said, staring
up at his giant of an adopted son.

" Father, it’s not safe for you to be here," Fulæm said he was a little worried for his father.
" I can protect myself, Fulæm. Just because I’m not a giant or obviously a warrior such as
you doesn't mean I’m not helpless! I’m also a warlock, and I walked on the path of the
warrior a hundred cycles ago." He then paused, saying, "If it makes you feel more
comfortable, Elronhir isn’t with me!" He spoke softly, which made Fulæm sigh slightly.

" That does ease my fear," Fulæm muttered softly.

Tenlyth nodded. " I know you wouldn’t wish for him to be here."They had waited for not too
long in almost total silence. Before the ship arrived, it wasn’t the vengeful spirit but instead a
much smaller transportation ship Sanguis noticed the almost glare on his brother’s face
Fulæm had never hidden his almost hatred of the imperium design; it was too big, too boxy,
and looked artificial. Sanguinius could only imagine what he would do to his flagship if he
took command. As the ship docked, many Astartes came pouring out guns ready but not in a
necessarily militaristic act. Sanguinius knew from above that there were most likely several
striking scorpions, ready to strike if it was necessary.

Fulæm stood still looking down upon the warriors as financially as he assumed Horus exited
finally. He was tall, although that was a given, and border than both Fulæm and Sanguinius.
He was bald, something Fulæm was not used to, and he was wearing the most blocky armour
that he had seen. The other primarch turned to Sanguinius. " Brother Sanguinius I’m beyond.
Glad to see that you are in good condition." His voice was strong and charismatic—a natural-
born leader. His eyes turned to Fulæm silently seizing him up, "You must be the newly found
primarch." He said it with a charismatic smile.

"Yes, and I assume you are this Horus?" Fulæm asked.

" yes, I am. Horus Lupercal primarch of the sixteenth legion." Horus was looking at his
brother, he was thin for a primarch—well, thin is not the best word to use—but instead lean
and athletic instead of the bulkiness most of the other primarchs had.

"And I'm Autarch Fulæm," The two looked for a long moment at each other, both knowing
that how they acted within the next moment could easily lead to conflict, if not war. It was
tense, but both demigods decided that, as of right now, they weren’t a threat to each other. "
Welcome to my home." The autarch said with a small nod as the tension throughout the
docking bay was visible, and for those with psychic abilities, it was also psychically detected.

" I appreciate that you are hosting me and my sons, brother," Horus said, smiling and offering
him a hand in some human gesture of thanks. Fulæm took it and shook it. "I can easily tell
that you are the primarch of the third; you share both their appearance and their aura."

Fulæm nodded. "That is what Sanguinius had told me." He looked at the winged primarch
who had come over to him. Three primarchs everyone in the docks could notice the power
held between the three, the seers felt the wrinkling of fate as these demigods talked, and if
there were twenty of them, Asuryan helped them.

Sanguinius smiled slightly, " have you sent word to our father?"

"Yes, I have. He is quite happy that he recovered the primarch of the third."
" I’ve not made any decisions about joining the imperium yet," Fulæm said, frowning
slightly.

Horus nodded, " of course." He offered him a smile and asked, "Would you allow me and my
sons to exit this dock so we may talk in a more comfortable manner?"

Fulæm frowned, thinking, "Yes... although I ask that it be just you and perhaps a few honour
guards."

Horus nodded and said, "That sounds acceptable." He turned back and selected a few of the
unnatural warriors wearing white to accompany him. Fulæm gestured to a few dire avengers
to guard the ship. The group walked to the warrior council chamber, where Sanguinius and
Horus were talking with each other. "Were you treated well?" He asked.

"Very well!" Sanguinius said simply, "Our brother, despite being raised and acting like a
xeno, he and his adoptive people have shown me nothing but kindness."

" I am surprised by that. From what I know of the Eldar, they aren’t the most respectful of
humans." Horus said as they walked, "I am glad no harm came to you!" He then whispered,
"So what can you tell me about Fulæm was it?"

" He is very committed to the Eldar people and views them more as his species than
humanity, but at the same time he’s incredibly caring for his people and wants to protect
them; he even has a romantic partner among the Eldar."

" That is indeed interesting, but as of right now, my most pressing matter is whether he can be
convinced to join the great crusade."

"He’s already pretty much agreed to a few conditions."

Horus frowned: "Such as?"

" that his adoptive people are kept safe, including any craftworlds and maiden worlds, as long
as they stay neutral," Sanguinius said simply as they walked.

"That seems like a relatively reasonable request, " Horus said as they entered the war council,
each of the primarchs having to duck their heads as they entered. Everyone of importance
was there: the autarch, the seers, and the civilian council all around a table.

" So you are the leader of the force that attacked Tal-whin?" Farseer Losetn asked as Horus
nodded.

" yes. Although I did not know it was protected by a fellow primarch."

" I’m more concerned about how you seem to only care now that there’s a primarch
involved!" Fulæm said firmly.
Horus nodded and said, "Again, I apologize. From what Sanguinius said you ask for, a treaty
to keep your adoptive people safe?"

Fulæm nodded. " That is a part of my condition to join you and this imperium."

"That can be arranged. As long as the Eldar keep to themselves and do not threaten the
expansion of mankind, I’m sure we can arrange it."

Fulæm frowned, saying, "There’s a difference between arranging it and making a promise."

Horus sighed " I will swear upon my honour that the Eldar, if they do not cause any difficulty,
the imperium will leave them be. Upon my authority as primarch of the sixteenth."

Fulæm thought for a long moment: "Those terms sound reasonable." He finally said, " But if
I see or hear any word that is broken, my end is also broken!" He said simply,

Horus nodded, " then of course." He offered a smile and said, "Then may I welcome you,
primarch Fulæm, primarch of the third."

Fulæm sighed; he still wasn’t used to that. "I have not officially decided yet, I need to talk to
the war council alone, with my adopted father, and with my partner before I make any official
decision."

" If you desire it, brother, I, my sons, and sanguinius may head to the ship while we wait."

" I would desire that," Fulæm said simply, giving an appreciated smile, and the other giants
left, leaving only the autarch and the council.

"You can’t seriously be considering joining them," Kayshæ said, turning to her fellow
autarch.

" I don't really have that many options. I know for certain that if I refused to join, it would
bring even more destruction to our people." Fulæm said as he leaned over the table.

"You’ve been nothing but a curse upon our craftworld since you were found!" Losetn said he
had gone through so many cycles of suppressing his emotions that they finally burst. "And
now your brothers, all created through foul sorcery and science, come to collect. We
should’ve killed you when we had the chance!"

Before the primarch could react, Tenlyth jumped in with fury in his voice. "That is my son!! I
will not have you spewing these words against him."

Loseth went up to Tenlyth. "But he is not your son, isn’t he? He’s the creation of a mad
monkeigh despot. "

" Even if he was created as that doesn't change that he is my son." Tenlyth growled, "And I
demand that you treat him with respect!"
" father! I can speak for myself. " Fulæm said firmly as he stood up straighter. "Farseer loseth
whether or not I should’ve been killed when you found me; it’s past the point of discussion."
Right now, we have much more poignant issues. And if you cannot respect that, I ask you to
leave; this is a council of war, and as an autarch I may force you out."

" and I rebuke your authority as an autarch. For you are not of the Aeldari!"

Kayshæ stood up "That’s enough!"

" I do not care if you cast me out, as if I am the only one who can see the truth? " He pointed
at Fulæm saying, "He is as the deamons of the warp given human flesh. A monster made to
conquer and murder, not Asyaun reborn as so many say." Losten growled before storming
out.

Kayshæ turned to Fulæm "Are you alright?" She asked gently; she had always viewed Fulæm
as a little bit of a younger brother since he became an autarch.

"It’s not me who you need to ask," Fulæm said simply, gesturing to his father, who had
followed losten out.

" You need to apologize now!" Tenlyth growled, cornering Losten.

" I do not think I need to; the monster you call your son doesn't deserve to even be looked at,"
Losten growled firmly. "I don’t care that you have some ungodly affection for him, it is truly
just a monster."

" He is my son, and despite not being an Aeldari in form, he is one in spirit." Tenlyth growled
slightly, holding up his staff.

" You're only lying to yourself, warlock. He’s by no means your son; he is a freak created for
war." Losten said, glaring at Tenlyth as he took out his blade in case it turned violent.

" I do not care for that fact; you’ve always tried to convince the others to destroy him. If
anything, you wanted him to fail from day one." Tenlyth growled, protective of his son's
honour.

" Are you challenging me, warlock?"

" yes I Am! You haven’t acted in the best interest of the craftworld, by your hatred of my son,
you’ve shown us that you care more about your hatred of humanity than its protection."

Losten growled, "If you think that you can do better than me, warlock, why don’t you take
my spot upon the council as I yelled my spot both as a counsellor and my citizenship upon
Amhrán aisling." He said, ripping apart his neck collar that showed his rank, and throwing it
upon the ground as he stormed off.

Tenlyth kneeled down and grabbed the collar. Had Losten really just renounced his
connection to both the council and the craftworld, and had He just appointed him as his
replacement? His thumb brushed over the golden piece. As he returned back to the council
room.
It had seemed while he was gone that the autarch, ever pragmatic compared to the ever-
questioning seers, had come to a decision. Fulæm towering over them as always, raised his
white eyebrows as he saw the collar; he didn’t mention it but turned to him and said, "Father,
I’ve decided to go through with the deal. Providing that Elronhir is good with it." He could
almost tell that his son was calculating how tight he could hug him without breaking every
bone in his body.

Tenlyth knew full well that he had no chance of convincing his son to stay and that only
Elronhir could stand a chance of keeping him here, even though it was unlikely. "
understood." He held out the collar. " Losten said that he had left the council, " he said,
setting it down on the table.

A dry voice only holding on by the thinnest of strings to life was heard as the entire council
turned to the almost completely crystallized Talrith with only his eyes and mouth flesh;
although he was there, he hardly ever spoke anymore It was easy to forget him "It is only
fitting that the one most tied to this step in to fill the place of the one who abandoned us." He
paused, gathering the strength to speak. " Tenlyth now that Fulæm is set upon his fate, I’d
like you to take the place of Losten upon the seer council!"

Tenlyth was surprised. " me? I’m not a farseer!" He spoke quickly, giving a small bow to
Talrith. " I can’t accept."

" You're a warlock, both well trained and showing you can handle the responsibility. You’ve
raised a demigod well, and as such, I fully believe you are more than qualified." Said Talrith,
his lips giving the smallest of smiles. Fulæm also looked interested as he perked up watching
his father to see how he would respond, although he was still used to having his eyes upon
him and having them upon him was still uncomfortable.

" If you think it’s for the best, then who am I to deny it." He said after a moment of
consideration.

Everyone looked shocked at that, but Fulæm stood up straighter and put a hand on his father's
shoulder. "Well, you do need something to keep yourself occupied while I’m gone waging
war for the monkeighs."

Tenlyth chuckled slightly. "My son, I don’t know if I can ever relax with you missing." With
that, Fulæm kneeled down and wrapped his adoptive father in a massive hug. Tenlyth was
surprised by it but went into a hug. Fulæm hug was strong and tight, and although he was
obviously being gentle, he knew that with little effort he could crush every bone in Tenlyth's
body, yet his grip was kind and gentle, which Tenlyth could only sink into.

" I love you, father, and I know you’ll do well. As you did with razing me." Fulæm whispered
as Tenlyth chuckled slightly.

" I really didn’t have to do much; you grew so quickly. I only did what I could; you mostly
raised yourself." He chuckled slightly.

" I’ve always been independent, but I think you did a good job in it... " he paused slightly. "
I’ll send you words of what I see when I lead my forces."
Tenlyth chuckled, " and the spoils for both you and Elronhir." He spoke, knowing his son
well, and how much he spoiled Elronhir.

Fulæm chuckled, "Perhaps!"

Fulæm took a deep breath as he entered his quarters to talk to Elronhir. He was worried about
his partner’s reaction to him joining his brothers in this crusade. He entered and smiled softly
at the sight of Elronhir, which always calmed his nerves. " Fulæm!!" Elronhir said, running to
his giant partner and tackling him in a hug.

" Elronhir!" He whispered, picking him up so he was hugging his chest. "My love, how are
you?" He asked, petting his hair.

" I missed you; I could barely rest. I kept passing and waiting for you." He kissed his
partner’s forehead and said, "What about you? Did you meet your other brother?" He asked
softly his small hand upon the face of his giant partner.

" I did!" Fulæm brought them to the couch and laid down with Elronhir, who was curled up
against his giant partner.

"And?"

" I’m joining them." He admitted softly. Looking away from his partner, afraid to see his
reaction.

But instead of anything dramatic, Elronhir only nodded and said, " I see." His voice was
neutral, " I figured as much." He spoke softly as he looked up at his partner.

"You're not angry at me?" Fulæm asked softly.

" I couldn’t be. It’s your fate; you were created to do it, and I know you won’t abandon me,
you’ll return one cycle." He said this while smiling softly as he pressed his forehead against
that of his partner.

" I certainly will not. Every time I can, I promise you that. And I shall write and send gifts to
you." Fulæm said as he took the jewellery he had given Elronhir

Elronhir chuckled, smiling, " shudder to think what you’ll gift me." He said, curling up
against his partner

"You should, your going to be spoiled so much."

"Aren’t I always?" Elronhir purred while kissing his partner.

Fulæm chuckled loudly, his voice rising more than its usually softly spoken self. Elronhir
knew all of the power within the primarch’s voice and how he often kept it low to not
overwhelm anyone. Yet at the same time, it was attractive and powerful, which made
Elronhir swoon. "Perhaps!" he purred. "You deserve to be treated as a king."
" You're the one who is the blood son of the human emperor. A prince if anything!" Elronhir
chuckled, cuddling against the giant.

"A prince, you say? I suppose I am one." He said softly, "But that would also make you one
as well." He purred, kissing him.

That surprised Elronhir. " you intend to… " He didn’t say more, as he understood the
meaning of it.

"Yes, I do, when I get back." He promised it was a promise to wed Elronhir to join their souls
as one.

Elronhir let out a laugh as he hugged his partner tightly, "Yes!" He said quickly, " I promise
that I’ll join your real partner.." He spoke softly

Fulæm smiled and said, "That’s something you can plan for while I’m gone." He said,
wrapping his hair around his finger.

"Keeping me busy, huh?"

"Well, unless you become a seer, I don’t know what else you’ll do without me." Fulæm
chuckled lightly as Elronhir nodded.

"Just try to keep in contact with me."

Fulæm purred slightly, " I will." He promised as Elronhir fell asleep within his arms the last
time he would in many cycles.
 the flagship
Chapter Notes

Sorry this took so long,

The primarch woke up curled up against Elronhir still upon the couch. He was surprised ever
so slightly as he noticed the black eyes of his partner staring back up at him. “ you know
when you sleep it’s the only time you look… well like a normal mortal” the aldarie said
smiling brushing the primarch’s face.

“ I don't know if I should take that as a compliment, or a grave insult.” Fulæm said with a
thin smile.

“ It's a compliment, it shows that underneath everything, you're still a mortal.” He said
kissing him, his eyes where sad but still loving they both knew that this would be their last
time waking up together for a while. “ I’m gonna miss you, you big attractive prince!”

Fulæm smiled. “ I’ll also miss you. A lot.” He said hugging him gently to not crush every
bone in his body. “ but I do not believe we’ll be apart for a long time.” He promised.

“ Can I ask you something?” Elronhir asked, his eyes full of almost crystalline tears.

Fulæm frowned slightly “ ask away.”

“ When you return, could we talk about creating a family?” He asked softly, touching the
albino giant cheek with his thin fingers.

“ You mean, you wish to start a family?”

Elronhir nodded and said, “Of course I do! I wish to have with you the most normal life we
can.”

Fulæm sat up a little more. “ I don’t think I can have a normal life!” He admitted

“ I know you can’t. But I wish to do the best we can with it.”

“ I mean, I suppose we can discuss when we get there,” fulæm said simply that he knew it
was theoretically possible for an Aeldari to interbreed with humans and create a genetic child,
although not in a natural way, for several reasons. First, they were both of the male sex, and
although the aldarie and human genes were compatible, he wasn’t really a human, was he?

Elronhir then chuckled. “ I mean, I suppose you already have a bunch of sons already.” He
then shook his head. “If I had known that my partner was such an irresponsible father.” He
joked poking the giant in the chest.

Fulæm chuckled ever so slightly, pulling him in a tight hug. “ I’m going to miss you!”

“ I will as well.” He took a deep breath “ I’ll be meeting with Sanguinius and Horus soon, to
take off to go to his flagship. Do you wish to come with me?”

“No, I can’t handle seeing you leave.” He said it so simply, looking up at Fulæm. “ easier if
you just walk out the door like it’s any other cycle.”

“ I understand. I have to go say goodbye to my father.” He spoke softly. “ Do you wish to

come with me?” He asked

Elronhir shook his head. “No, I can’t say goodbye twice.” He said, taking Fulæm's hand in
his own, “One is enough,” he said as he gestured for Fulæm to kneel down and kiss him. “
I’ll miss you,” he whispered into the primarch’s much smaller ears.

“And I will miss you.” He promised, holding him tightly but not really holding in his
strength.

“ Too tight!" Elronhir choked out as fulæm released him. ” By Khaine, you're strong.” He
said, staring up at his partner.

Fulæm laughed loudly, “Or are you just weak?” He asked jokingly as Elronhir chuckled.

“ Ha, ha. Compared to you and your brothers, yes, but I’m relatively strong for Aeldari.”
Elronhir said this while smiling as he leaned against Fulæm. “This doesn’t hurt as much as I
thought it would. It still breaks my heart, but I know it’s only temporary.”

Fulæm nodded, “ but only temporarily.” He picked up Elronhir one last time. “Til we meet
again.” He promised as he kissed him, set him back on the ground, and began to pack. He
wasn’t bringing much, only his favourite clothes, some jewelry, and a few more sentimental
items. He paused as he saw a small bracelet that his adopted father had given him, his first
piece of jewellery. As a young boy of several months, he remembered begging his father to
let him wear one of his cufflinks. Of course, it was too big for him, although he would’ve
shortly grown in too. But he had liked it so much that he had begged his father to get him
one, and how much too small for an adult and even smaller for a primarch as such, now
without a purpose, it sat in his open hand.
Fulæm frowned at it as he placed it in his bag—a connection to his father that he could hold
on to while he was gone. He would go to the shrine first to don his armour and then he would
go to his father's quarters to say goodbye. He pulled on a violet cloak, gave Elronhir one last
look, and goodbye before he left.

His father was waiting for him outside his own quarters. He looked up at his son, already
dressed in the fine autarch armour. “My son, why don’t we go for a walk, I have something to
show you.” He said he was simply pulling on his adopted son’s arm and leading him to the
Bowles of the Craftworld.
“Where are you leading me?” Fulæm asked with a small smile; this brought back memories
of him as a child.

“Something I should’ve shown you before.” He said that after leading him to a small room,
fulæm had to crouch down to just enter. Fulæm gasped as he saw what the room held.

“ is that… “ fulæm's voice shook slightly as he saw a silver incubation capsule. “My
incubation capsule?” He asked.

Tenlyth nodded “yes.” He said simply that it was so odd seeing it again and remembering that
night when he had found his son.

“To think that I once fit in something too small, that I was something so small,” Fulæm said,
placing his hand on it.

“You were sent here for a reason, perhaps by fate or divine intervention,” Tenlyth said,
looking up at his son.

Fulæm shook his head slightly, “From what Sanguinius and Horus said, we all got scattered
upon random planets, across the galaxy, and it was just a chance that I ended up here.”

Tenlyth chuckled even more. “ But this is not a planet, is it? And from what I overheard, all
of your blood kin landed on a human planet. So you were sent here, and it will become more
obvious as you complete the fate that you were created for.”

“Created to be a warlord,” Fulæm whispered, picking up the capsule in his hand and holding
it easily. “ It weighs on me, you know.”

Tenlyth sighed “ I always knew it would, ever since you grew so quickly. You were built in
Khaine’s image.”

Fulæm nodded. “ It was obvious that I was built in Khaine's image, I knew it since I noticed
how different I was, not just because I wasn’t an Aeldari but for everything else.” He said,
gesturing to his massive body. “ I suppose that’s one of the reasons I’m so willing to join the
imperium so that I can be around those similar to me.”

“ I can understand that desire. “ Tenlyth said simply; he didn’t say anything more as no more
words were needed.

Fulæm left a few minutes later, taking the long route, savouring the gardens, the plazas, and
pretty much everything about his home as he took the long walk to the docking bay. He saw a
few of the Astartes standing guard in front of the boxy ship. They gave a salute to him.

“ Lord Primarch, have you come to see the others?” One of them asked in a deep voice.

“Yes, I’ve come to see my brothers.” He said simply his nervousness not creeping into his
voice. One of the Astartes nodded and went inside the ship to let his father and Sanguinius
know.
Sanguinius was the first to exit the ship. “Brother!!” He said excitedly as he enveloped
Fulæm in a hug, his wing also enveloping him. “So, you have joined!” He raised his voice,
revealing his excitement.

“ I have,” Fulæm said, hugging Sanguinius back. “If you would have me.” He said he was
offering a smile.

“Of course, we’d have you,” Sanguinius said, smiling back. He was beyond excited to have
another one of his brothers back in the fold. Hours exited next and offered a hand to Fulæm.

“ It is an honour for You to join us, brother,” Horus said simply as he shook fulæm hand.

Fulæm nodded as he looked back at the ship, it was so bulky and hideous, but he would have
to suffer through it. “ Will we be travelling with this?” He asked, frowning slightly.

Horus nodded. “ yes.” He said simply, and he then frowned and asked, “Have you ever
travelled on a wrap-capable vessel?” He asked, knowing enough about the Eldar to know
they used a different method of transportation.

“No, I haven’t,” Fulæm said as he entered the ship. “It’s not something I’ve ever wished to
experience.” To his dismay, the inside was just as practical and bulky as the outside; honestly,
if every human creation was this ugly, he would have his work cut out for him redecorating
and remaking everything in his image. He was extremely happy that he had walked the path
of the engineer and the forger. That, like everything, was an art that he had mastered.

Horus chuckled, putting his hand on Fulæm's shoulder. “ It might be a little nauseous for your
first time.”

“ I can handle nausea. My biggest concern is the unsightliness of this vessel.”

Sanguinius gave Horus a look that basically said, "Sorry, he’s like this.’

Hours only chuckled: “It’s just a transportation ship. I’m certain you’ll find my flagship, the
vengeful spirit, much more to your liking.” He said, offering a charming smile.

“ it better be… Honestly, I’m going to miss the natural beauty of my home most of all,
besides my family, of course.” Fulæm said, sitting down in the more private room of the
shuttle.

“But brother, you’ll be with your family,” Sanguinius said, having a little harder time with his
wings.

Fulæm shot him a very Aeldari-like glare: “You know what I mean, Roval!" There was no
hatred in his voice anymore, just a bit of friendly mocking.

“ Elronhir didn’t change his mind?” Sanguinius asked.

“No, I mean, I cannot blame him. Leaving the craftworld to play consort to the leader of a
legion of murders.”
Horus shook his head. “You don’t think much of us? Do you?” He asked.

“To be honest, I do not have the best impression of humans; that’s mostly the reason I’m
joining to improve humanity so they can be brought out of the barbarism that is endemic to
that species.”

Sanguinius glanced at Horus; despite the wording, at least their brother wished to improve
humanity. “Well, I suppose that’s a noble goal, “ he said simply. “Although I do hope you
soften on humanity. They can be misguided by faith and superstition, but in reality, they are a
wonderful species; aren’t we proof of that?” The angel asked, gesturing to himself and Horus.

“ I suppose you could say that. Although I don’t believe we are very similar to that of
baseline humanity,” Fulæm said, and Sanguinius knew he was right, at least in part.

“ that we might be. But it doesn’t change the fact that we are examples of humanity.” Horus
said, “ I’m sure when you meet our father, you’ll understand.”

Fulæm frowned and asked, “Who is this emperor of man?” He felt the words set heavy on his
tongue.

“If we are so above humanity, even to our gene sons, the emperor is to us as we are to our
sons,” Horus explained as the first one to find he was the most able to explain, yet he didn’t
know how much his brother could understand due to how little he was around humans.

Fulæm frowned, “ a powerful despot?” He huffed, “ I’ll save my judgment till I meet him.”

Horus nodded, “That’s all I suppose I can ask for, “ he chuckled slightly, “ I was the first to
be found. As such, I’m the closest to father, and I know he’ll be overjoyed to have you return
to the fold. Your legion was always his personal favourite; its unofficial title is even the
emperor's children.” He glanced over at Sanguinius; the angel hadn’t let it be known out loud
that he had been jealous of the noble legion compared to that of his sons, but Horus knew that
he was.

Sanguinius looked away, not knowing what his brother was thinking. He turned to fulæm
“Your sons are the most prized, especially for how small their legion is.” The angel smiled
warmly. He turned to Horus and asked, “Have the members of the Third been notified that
their primarch has returned?”

Horus shook his head. “No, I’m waiting for word from Father before I inform them directly,
although they may have heard already. “ He turned to fulæm “ I wouldn’t have been surprised
if the word of a giant fighting alongside the Eldar.”

“I'm looking forward to meeting them, assuming that they accept me as their... He muttered
something in Aeldari, trying to find the right word. “Gene's father.”

“They will certainly accept you; you are their primarch. It's visible in all their eyes,” Horus
said, patting Fulæm on the back.
“Forgive me for my trepidation involving humans. I have hardly been around them.” Fulæm
said, looking at Horus, who offered him a smile.

The travel through the warp was not as uncomfortable as Fulæm had expected, although it
was still a lot more uncomfortable than that of the webway. Yet no daemon came, to assail
them, although he did feel his soul gem warm to a slightly uncomfortable degree. But despite
that, he carried on the conversation with Sanguinius and Horus. Horus was interested in
learning the Aeldari tongue and fulæm had promised to teach him the basics at some later
date.

He and Sanguinius were comparing the merits and flaws of using marble sculptures
compared to wraithbone.

“With marble, you can feel the smallest detail with your fingers, but I don’t think you can
with wraithbone,” sanguinius said. “ I’ve seen your work, and it’s absolutely gorgeous, I just
want to see what you do with another medium.”

Fulæm chuckled while sipping a little bit of wine a serf had brought in; it wasn’t the best at
all, but it was a little bit of home. ” But the wraithbone corresponds to your mental waves
snapping themselves with your will, I don’t think I can get to that detail with marble.”

“But with such material, how can one impart any of the smallish human touches? Without it,
it would just look as if a machine had made it.”

Fulæm paused at that, remembering what Aeldari told him about his art, particularly his
statue, and how unearthly perfect it had been, how his fellow artists had called it perfect as if
it were made from a machine. “ I suppose you may have a point,” he said, simply looking
away ever so slightly. “You’ve convinced me, Roval. I’ll try applying my skills to marble.”

Horus let out a cough. “ I hate to interrupt this conversation. But we are arriving upon the
vengeful spirit,” he said, interrupting the conversation between his two brothers.

Sanguinius sat up, his wings flickering slightly. “That did not take long.” He said turning
back to fulæm. “ I will admit the Eldar way of travelling was more comfortable.” He said,
offering him a smile.

Fulæm nodded and said, “Yes, it is more comfortable and much more efficient.”

“ Perhaps you could share those marvels with the larger imperium?” Horus suggested

“ Are you suggesting that I give up the most crucial part of my people's survival? So that you
can wage war better; if you are, you are sadly mistaken,” fulæm said, his voice neutral.

“I suppose I can understand that,” Horus admitted, frowning slightly. His mind wandered to
what they could do with the Eldar technology and how it could so quickly speed up the great
crusade.
As they arrived upon the flagship, Sanguinius could see in his brother's eyes the appreciation
of a ship. Although he knew he wouldn’t say anything out loud, Horus turned to him. “
Welcome to the vengeful spirit. The flagship of the Luna wolves is all those that follow us.”
Horus said this while smiling in a charismatic way.

“It’s quite impressive... in a barbarous way,” fulæm admitted.

Horus shook his bald head ever so slightly. “ I know you’ll come to appreciate our artistic
value.” He said honestly that his brother could even give a compliment without insulting
humanity. “ So Fulæm? I suppose first we should get you acquainted with the vessel; I
assume you’ll be
Fulæm nodded. “ I suppose that could be beneficial if you would be willing to.”

Horus thought for a moment “ I’m busy with my legion, “ he turned to Sanguinius, “ brother
would you be willing to show Fulæm around?” He asked

The angel nodded. “It would be an honour.” He said, smiling, “ the entire vessel?” He asked

“No, it’s far too big, and I don’t want it to be too known that the third was found at this
moment.”

“Understood, have you prepared private quarters for our brother?" Sanguinius asked.

;“Yes, I sent word the moment it was evident that Fulæm was to join us," Horus responded
the moment they stepped off the ship. He was accused by everyone who wanted to relay what
had happened when he was gone. “ Forgive me, I need to attend to my matters, we shall meet
up soon,” Horus said as he walked out, having to attend to his matters.

Sanguinius turned to Fulæm. “Follow me; I don’t want you to be lost. Although I imagine
that you won’t consider you were raised on a ship,”

“Yes, although this is an entirely different style, I’d be as lost as you were when you arrived
at my home.” Fulæm said as Sanguinius nodded, “ I’ll bring you to the command bridge.”

Fulæm nodded and said, “ I will follow you, Roval.”

Sanguinius paused in his stride. “When we are with others, I’d appreciate it if you just called
me Sanguinius or brother. You calling me by such an eldar name might cause some conflict.”

“ I understand... “ fulæm admitted, “ will it be known that I was raised among the aeldari?”

“It would be rather hard to hide; you have a very thick accent, brother.”

“ Do I?” Fulæm asked, a little surprised.

Sanguinius chuckled slightly “Extremely, it has the same... qualities; it’s certainly
noticeable.”

“ I always worried that I sounded too different from the Aeldari.”

“No, not at all,” Sanguinius said, reassuring his brother.

Fulæm's pale face broke out into a small grin. “Thank you.” He said, giving a respectful nod.

Sanguinius smiled, “Come on.” He gestured for his brother to follow him. “ That reminds
me, why did you learn to speak Gothic?” He asked as they walked

“Around the time I became an autarch, many cycles ago,”

“ You always speak of cycles, yet I still don’t know what they fully mean.”

“Cycles... are the units of time, both in day and night, years and so on.” Fulæm explained. “
the aeldarie view time not in a linear manner, but instead in a cyclical matter, cycles with
cycles”

Sanguinius nodded “ I see,” he said as they were reaching the bridge. Fulæm let out an
impressed gasp as he saw it. “Here it is, the command bridge,” Sanguinius said with a grin.
Seeing his brother's eyes

Fulæm quickly shook his head and said, “It’s impressive.” He was looking around. “It’s truly
manned by all these people.” He asked to see more people here than he often saw in a day
when he was home, as servants and others were required for the vessel's function, both
humans and Astartes.

“We do not need all of them to keep it functional, but yes, the vengeful spirit has a large
stable of servants and crew.” Sanguinius paused and asked, “Does your craftworld have such
a force to pilot it?” He asked.

Fulæm shook his head. “ It's mostly controlled by the infinity circuit. We only have a few on
the path of seers who can fully control the craftworld.” They walked for a moment to the
front of the deck. They could both hear muttering as the people on the bridge saw the winged
angel of a primarch and the stranger, who was clearly a primarch as well.

“Father...” a quivering voice said as an Astartes with white hair fell to his knees at the sight
of Fulæm.

Fulæm turned to him, his eyes winding as he took in his... son, his violet eyes took in his
features; they were like his, not exactly, but anyone would say they were related. The Astarte
was shaking, trying to look at his father but not being able to muster the will. He gently put
his hand on the shoulder of the Astarte, asking, “And who might you be?” He asked

“They... call me Rylanor,” he said, his voice quivering in awe.

“Well, Rylanor, I suppose I’m your primarch,” Fulæm said as he knelt down ever so slightly.

kneel with Rylanor shivered slightly as his primarch looked at him; he was forced to kneel
with his head down just to even talk. His two hearts drummed within his chest; they were so
loud that he could barely hear his primarch's voice.
Fulæm saw how much he was shaking and gently put his hand on Rylanor, trying to calm him
down. “It’s alright, “ he whispered.

The Astarte looked up to the Primarch ever so slightly as “ father.” He whispered.

“Rylanor,"“ the primarch said softly, “ it is an honour to meet you.”

“ The honour is mine, primarch,” Rylanor whispered as he finally was able to take in his
primarch. He was shocked that the armour that he was wearing was like that of the Eldar that
he had fought. In fact, his accent was unlike any human accent he had heard. Thick and
flowing as that of a Xenos. His eyes went to the high ponytail that his primarch wore, the
clasp that held it was golden with a rune upon it—that of the xenos known as the eldar. He
couldn’t say anything, only stared at the primarch with a mix of awe and curiosity.

“No, you're the first one of my... sons that I’ve met. It was only several cycles ago that I even
learned what I was.” Fulæm said as he stood up and looked down at Rylanor. “ It was a shock
to know about your kind and my legion.”

Rylanor stared up as he gathered the strength to speak. “ I did not know we conquered
another world so recently.” He said so, staring up at Fulæm.

“ I did not grow up upon a planet; my incubation capsule landed upon an Aeldari Craftworld,
where I was taken in by them,” Fulæm said, gesturing to his armour.

Rylanor was shocked at his primarch's words; his father had grown up with Xenos? “ my…
lord?” He asked, shaking slightly. “You were raised by Xenos?” He asked, surprised.

Fulæm nodded “ yes.” He said simply,

Rylanor paused, thinking about what to say, as he stared up at his Xenos-raised primarch. “I
suppose that’s more dignified than...some other options.” He stared up at his father again and
knelt “It’s an honour to be of service, my lord!”

Fulæm smiled, saying, “ , Again, Rylanor—the first of my sons that I’ve met. The honour
belongs to me most of all.”

Rylanor stared up at his father in awe. Ever since he had become an Astarte, taken from the
concurred nobles of Terra, he had dreamt of meeting his primarch, his genetic template.
Although he was even raised by Xenos, he still held the nobility of the third legion, with the
white hair, the violet eyes, and the noble features. “It’s an honour to be in your presence,
Primarch.”

Fulæm smiled more. “As I said, I did not fully know what I was until I met the winged one
upon the field of battle.” He said, gesturing to Sanguinius, who was looking at the interaction
between Primarch and son, as Rylanor looked at the angel, not noticing he had been there so
engrossed by his Primarch that he had completely missed the other Primarch. He quickly
bowed to Sanguinius.
“Lord Sanguinius,” Rylanor said, bowing deeply but less deeply than to his own primarch.
“My apologies, as I did not see you.”

Sanguinius offered the Astarte a warm smile. “It is of no concern, I am just overjoyed that I
may see such a warm introduction.”

Rylanor nodded, bowing and saying, “Again, my apologies, my lord. I should’ve greeted
you.” He turned back towards his primarch. “ Primarch, Will you be joining with your legion
soon?” He asked

“ I do not know. I suppose that Will depends on what this emperor of men says; I do have
experience in leading forces in war; I was an autarch back upon my home.” He saw the
confusion in Rylanor's eyes at those words. “War leader.” He explained.

“Ah, I understand. Do I have permission to tell the rest of the legion that you have returned?”
Rylanor asked, looking up at his primarch.

Fulæm thought for a long moment, not knowing what to say. “Not right now. I still do not
know exactly how this will go. And I do not want my Legion to be overly excited for my
return, which may not happen fully for several cycles.”

“Understood, primarch!” Rylanor said as he stood up from his knees shaking, it would be
hard to not tell all of his battle brothers that their primarch was back, but he would manage,
his mouth would be sealed.

They talked for a few more moments before fulæm had to leave as Sanguinius still had to
show him around the deck and the rest of the ship.

Sanguinius watched his brother stare out of the massive window of the deck, watching the
stars. “ Sanguinius, do you ever just pause to think how small even, we are in the grand
scheme of eternity? “ He said so as Sanguinius came up to him.

“Not often, but I know my place as well as I know the air in my lungs,” Sanguinius said as he
followed his brother's gaze toward a small nebula of stars.

“ So do I! Yet we can be certain of our place, yet still, know how small we really are.” He
chuckled slightly. “Mín are ae thand -o I limb bigger cuil -o i elena,” he said, sipping back to
his native language, he looked back at sanguinius “We are a small part of the much bigger
life of the stars,” he translated.

“Ah, I see we are still young in the grand scheme of the universe,” Sanguinius said, frowning
slightly as he followed his brother's gaze to a specific point in the night sky. “Your home?”
He asked, recognizing the direction

“Yes, if you look closely, you can see its light, not as bright as a star, yet still bright.” Fulæm
said simply, “You know how the humans call the Aeldari by the name Eldar?” He asked after
a while of silence.
Sanguinius shook his head. “No, I do not; I assume it was a mistranslation when the two
species met.”

Fulæm chuckled ever so slightly, “You are half right, eldar; that was the name of a specific
merchant clan, translating roughly to that of ‘ people of the stars.“

The angel let out a sigh of understanding. “Ah, I see.” He paused: “The language of the
Aeldari is very beautiful.” He commented, overjoyed that his brother was opening up in such
a manner.

Fulæm let out a laugh “ I wish I could say the same about the languages of humans.” He said
simply, “But that’s not exactly what I had meant; there are things both older and more
powerful than even the Aeldari. And we are weak compared to how they once were; we sail
in a sea of dead empires and dead civilizations.” He said looking through the widow.

Sanguinius nodded “ I know that, it’s hard for even us to imagine how old everything is and
how, from where we are, billions of years of history have passed and we are a part of it.”

“Yes, that is something that all the seers said about me; fate weaves into my soul; it exists
outside of the normal strands of fate.” He explained, shaking his head, “ I’m no seer, so I’m
blind to the pull of fate, but I believe it too; fate seems to bend where we walk.”

“ ah! I see!” Sanguinius said, smiling, “You would get along well with Brother Mangus." He
is a strong psyker and also knows of the flow of the wrap.”

“Mangus is an old human word for a wise man.” He said as he tested the word on his lips. He
saw Sanguinius's look of confusion “My craftworld believes that every word, and especially a
name, has a little sliver of the soul of who first spoke it. It’s important to know where the
word came from.”

“What does your name mean?”

“ The closest translation would be the silver phoenix; ful is taken from the word silver, and
æm is one of the names that belong to the phoenix,” Fulæm explained with a smile as his
name was a point of great pride to him.

“The phoenix? The flaming bird of myth?” Sanguinius asked.

Fulæm nodded, “Yes, the immortal bird symbol of the Aeldari god Asurian.” He explained
and then chuckled, “Many believe that I’m the avatar of Asurian, or at least a gift given from
him to the Aeldari.”

“You believe that you are this gift?”

Fulæm shook his head, “No, perhaps my incubation capsule landing upon a craftworld
instead of a planet was influenced by fate, but beyond that, I highly doubt that the phoenix
king’s gift would take form in a human... or to be more technical, a primarch.”

Sanguinius nodded. “I don't know enough about Aeldari mythology to comment on that,
although I do find it interesting how the phoenix is a creature known both in Aeldari and
Terran mythology.” He visibly saw the autarch perk up at those words.

“Really?” He paused, looking back at the stars, his violet eyes almost reflecting in the glass.
"Isn’t that fascinating?" After all, he was a scholar. He paused again, turning to Sanguinius
and asking, “What will you do when we are done with all this?”

Sanguinius paused; he had not expected this question “ I... don’t know, I suppose I will lead
humanity and see them reach their true potential.” He said after a moment of consideration
“What about you, brother?” He asked.

“I suppose we have similar goals, return to my adoptive people, unite the scattered craftworld
under an alliance, and lead them to a second golden age,” fulæm explained. “ ideally with
that of the human empire.

“An alliance, not an empire?” Sanguinius asked, picking up on his brother's wording.

Fulæm chuckled, “Although I have not even scratched the surface of our galaxy's history, I
have noticed a pattern of empires falling. I fundamentally believe our galaxy is not suited for
them, and with the centralized method of a power, too much is left to the winds of fate.”

Sanguinius paused yet again “So, you believe that the imperium will fall?” He asked.

“Most likely, every empire and nation will, maybe in a thousand years, maybe in a million. “

“Then why are you joining the imperium if you believe it to be doomed?”

“Because it’s the best thing I can do for my people; right now, the Aeldari would be
decimated by the sheer numbers of humanity, but with my guidance and the position of my
birthright, I can negotiate peace; it’s worthwhile. ”

“ I suppose that's as good an answer as any, but tell me, brother, if the Aeldari were to regain
their full power, what would you do?”

Fulæm clutched his gem to his chest and said, “That's impossible. The Aeldari are not likely
to return to their full power. They have cursed themselves with an enemy that cannot be
killed easily through our arrogance.”

Sanguinius nodded. “ I don’t know what exactly you mean, but I can tell by the tone of your
voice that it’s something that concerns you.” He grabbed his brother's arm and said, “You
know I’ll be here to help you.” He said softly, looking into his brother’s handsome face, his
blood-red eyes meeting violet.

“Thank you, brother.” Fulæm said simply before looking back through the window.
End Notes

Well, here it is. I decided to finally write something after a long time of absence. But yeah,
I’ll try to continue it if you like it, leave a kudos and comment as it really helps me with the
motivation. much love.

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