A Light Not Extinguished

Chapter 39: Angels of Hell

"Be'lakor was the First."

"But then, who is the Last?"

-Footnote taken from a collection of Aeldari scholarly works on the nature and lore of the Primordial Annihilator, known as the Fullae Dai'Est.

***

Lhilitu paused as the question rang in the spaces of the Fortress.

"Not quite the brute that many believe you to be." The Dark Muse abandoned her mad cadence. "How?"

"You don't fight like her." The Mistress of Blades leaned on her chainsword. "Violence is an exaltation of the soul. No matter how many glamours you try to weave, you can't hide the shape of your being. So, out with it. Your name?"

"My name is a truth that reaches to time's end." The Daemonhost smiled. "To hear it would break even one such as you, Beast of Swords."

Qa'leh's words had somehow pierced the shell of deception that the unknown daemon had wrought around itself. Now Eldrad saw the subtle twitches of the body that didn't quite move with an Aeldari's natural grace, the flesh smoking as if unable to contain the corruption within.

"Doesn't matter." Qa'leh sneered. "I'll beat it out of you soon enough. You see, Lhilitu— you're just the perfect whetstone for me to test out my new technique." The Mistress of Blades flipped her sword by the hilt and stabbed herself in the guts, dropping to one knee. "Tell me, Lhilitu, what do you know about theophagy?"

Lhilitu stared, the daemon putting together what Qa'leh had been meditating on for the last thousand years. "Impossible."

"From the sacked temples and holy places, I've amassed quite a collection of lore. In our species's history, there have been a scant few that have ever truly defied the Pantheon— and of course, the only thing that awaited them was death." Qa'leh grinned, bands of scarlet energy starting to flow over her body. "At the beginning of the War in Heaven, the great god Kaela Mensha Khaine entreated Vaul the Smith to build him a weapon fitting of his status, on pain of death! And so in turn, the Lord of the Forges demanded certain materials: Khaine's blood, his body, and most importantly the spirit."

Smoke began to rise from the blade, as the roar of its engines became overwhelming. "Soon he would discard it for another hundred swords, and the weapon that I now hold in my hands was given to the greatest of his followers— me included in that number. Now I possess a shard of a god, and what else can suffice for being the kindling of my ascension?"

The Aeldari were one of the spiritually strongest races in the galaxy under the aegis of their gods. But through the uncountable eons, there were always those that had strayed from the path, among them some of the greatest renegades that had struck blows against the Pantheon themselves, sometimes with the aid of foreign powers. All of them had been hunted down in the end by the Pantheon's avatars and champions, their existences burned out of history save for the deepest archives. For names and deeds had power, something that the ancient race knew full well.

But the gods were not here anymore.

The sword began to hiss and shake, an echo of a god's cry leaking out as Qa'leh kept her hands on the hilt. "Your time is past, Bloody-Handed." The blademistress hissed out as arcs of amber energy danced along her skin. "Now... it is my era."

Widowmaker dissolved into liquid, melting into Qa'leh's veins as her blood vessels became lit from within by scarlet. A pillar of light blasted down from the heavens and struck the Mistress of Blades. Qa'leh's body shattered like glass, leaving behind a single glowing ember that rapidly began to grow into a humanoid form. Ninety-nine arms burst out from the back, each one holding one of the swords that Vaul had forged during the War in Heaven, save for the legendary Anaris which Khaine had discarded in his rage. A skin of molten necrodermis, just as how Khaine had become tainted with the aspect of the Reaper.

Blood cascaded down in waterfalls along each hand. Not with the blood of Eldanesh the Hero, but of all those that the Mistress of Blades had killed in the past. Instead of the terrible horned helm and war mask for a head, there was only a pale white flame that burned; the same shade as Qa'leh's eyes.

+I'm truly glad that you're here, Lhilitu.+ The newborn Blade Immortal, now slightly taller than a Knight laughed. +Only the finest prey shall suffice for the anointing of my ascension.+ Khiraen and Eldrad could only watch in mute horror as the walking blasphemy took a single step towards Lhilitu.

+This is my fight, Khiraen.+ The Mistress of Blades said without looking back. +Leave.+

"You were His priestess." Khiraen forced the words out of his leaden mouth. "Do you... do you truly not care...?"

+Oh, my foolish husband.+ The Blade Immortal sighed fondly. +You always try to see the best in me, where there is none.+ Widowmaker coalesced back into her hands. +It's not safe here. LEAVE.+

The last sentence wasn't spoken in her voice. It thundered like the drums of war, heating the blood and setting minds aflame in fury. The voice of the Aeldari's war god, that had disappeared so long ago.

Khiraen's face blanked, the warrior turning away and fleeing as the command pulled at his very soul. Eldrad remained, hands gripping his staff. We need to do something! His younger self shouted urgently inside his mind. The deal I made with Shaimesh—

You bargained with a Muse? The older Eldrad thought incredulously. I don't remember being this foolish even in the follies of my youth, and I've committed a great deal of those.
It doesn't matter now, alright? If you came here to help, then do something!

+Still here, boy?+ Qa'leh asked casually, the heat from her mere presence already causing the floor under her to start melting, forcing the Farseer to hover and summon a kineshield. +You should learn to pick your battles if you want to live.+

Eldrad lifted his staff and slammed it on the floor. "I don't need you to teach me that, apostate."

Spiderweb cracks started to spread out from the point where the staff touched the ground, widening until there was a chasm that spanned the entirety of the Webway section and the Fortress. With a clear snap, the entire portion of the Webway that contained the two Dark Muses became unmoored from the network, the chunk of tunnel starting to drift into the Warp. Eldrad swung his staff, and as if struck by a hammer the process was accelerated.

"Farewell." The Farseer turned his back on them, the Webway already starting to seal the rupture shut. "May we never meet again."

Alone now in the Warp, the two Muses locked gazes. Nothing more needed to be said, before both of them exploded into motion. Lhilitu barked a word in a forgotten scripture, and the Legions of Chaos came together in a rising tide under her dread authority. Bloodletters, Flamers, Rotting Ones, bound and called by the unnamed daemon to enact its will.

It was nothing before the Blade Immortal as her swords became a scything whirlwind, both Lesser and Greater Daemons having their essence rent apart as the usurper demigod continued to stride forward.

+Pointless. Utterly pointless.+ Qa'leh proclaimed, chainsword of war roaring its song as her blades cut and divided and slashed. +Nothing but dust before the only truth that governs all.+

The daemon snarled, calling together the regrets of all those that had been devoured by Chaos ten million years ago and forming a shield of fused skulls around itself. Said shield began to scream and writhe immediately as Qa'leh started to carve into it, bladed implements from all across the history of the Aeldari manifesting and slicing of their own accord.

The daemon in stolen flesh fled across the Warp, and the swordmistress followed.