Everqueen Reclamation - 56

Author’s Note: I apologize for the long delay in updates, I've been suffering from writer's block, and to be honest, the whole Fenris arc needs a complete rewrite.

But in the meantime, here's a draft of the next chapter.

EDIT: Updated with the complete version.

***

A fierce storm raged around the mountain valley, winds that could rip a man to shreds hurtling through the air. Sheets of dark ice had engulfed every inch of the valley, every mountain, every rock, jagged midnight black spikes as tall as trees rising into the sky.

And in the midst of it all, a goddess and a demon wrestled.

Jagged crystal had erupted across Isha’s skin, her eyes flickering between blue and green as she fought. Her fury was unconstrained, and the only thought on her mind was to kill her opponent.

But the Monarch of the Hunt just would not die.

She was faster, stronger, more powerful.

And yet, he avoided her blows, and the ones which did land did not hit hard enough. Her rage and fury warped the world around them, and yet this mockery of her husband resisted.

It wasn’t fair. It was a deeply childish sentiment, and Isha had known for a very very long time that the universe was not fair. It was a fundamental truth of reality, of both the Materium and Immaterium.

And yet, she could not help but rage against it. Aeons of suppressed sorrow and fury erupted into the storm blazing around them. The mountains trembled and the storm grew even faster.

The Monarch of the Hunt only laughed once more, his face twisting in a vapid, horrid mockery of her husband’s warm smile.

Isha could think of nothing except how much she wanted to kill that daemons, to rip him to shreds and erase every trace of it from existence.

How dare he.

The Monarch would die, slowly and painfully and permanently.

And Slaanesh would die too, even if it took Isha a million years to do it.

They-

Her thoughts were pierced by the sudden presence of the Emperor.

+Isha, stop this!+

No! Isha screamed back, an expression of pure intent and hate than twisted and rent the fabric of reality. She was so tired of having to restrain herself, of always having to bow her head and grit her teeth. With the Old Ones, with Asuryan, with Khaine, with the Emperor.

Why was it always on her to be calm, to be the voice of reason and compassion?

Not today. Today, revenge would be hers. Today, she would let her wrath run loose and damn the consequences, as everyone else did.

+Stop!+ The Emperor repeated more forcefully, appearing between her and the Monarch, striking down from the sky like a golden thunderbolt, blowing them both away. +Isha, don’t you see? You are going to rip this planet apart! Listen! If not to me, then to Fenris.+

At last, another voice pierced through the icy rage that had descended over Isha.

“All-Mother, please. I implore you, calm yourself. Your wrath could tear my people apart.”

Fenris’s voice was afraid and desperate and imploring, and at last shocked Isha out of her rage. She realized with horror how much of her rage had spilled out. The storm around her was on the verge of growing so vast that it would engulf the entire continent, killing many in the process.

The Eldar Goddess hastily leashed her aura, pulling her power back in. She willed the storm to dissipate, and the ice that had engulfed the valley to fade away, to stabilize the planet’s atmosphere and geology.

Her eyes settled on green permanently, the jagged crystal on her skin fading away and her hair returning to red as Isha sank to her knees in the snow.

Fenris and the Emperor both seemed visibly relieved.

But the Monarch, that thrice-damned creature, was gone. It had escaped in the confusion.

Isha choked on a sob of rage and frustration. At Slaanesh, for doing this. At Kurnous, for being dead.

At herself, for losing control, for endangering innocent lives she was supposed to protect.

For acting like her father.

The Emperor stepped towards her hesitantly. “Isha…are you alright?” 

The Goddess of Life said nothing, cradling her face in her hands. 

“No,” Isha said at last, exhausted beyond belief. “I am not.”

***

Later in the day, Isha sat on atop the peak of the Fang, channeling her strength to repair the damage she had done, and stabilize Fenris’s ecosystem.

The World Spirit’s presence hovered nearby, uncertain and almost fearful of her, which only added to Isha’s guilt and weariness.

Fenris was a World Spirit gone wild, and to call it kind or gentle would be a mistake of the highest order. It was capricious and temperamental, and saw the harshness of its world as trials to strengthen the humans who lived on it.

For Fenris to think her rage was actually endangering the people of the planet…

And more than that, Isha had failed to live up to her own standards. To the ideals she held dear, to the very core of who she was, who she had tried to be.

She had acted as her despised father would have.

And yet, despite her guilt, the ice in her veins refused to be quelled. The fury was still there, suppressed but not truly gone.

Isha didn't know if it would ever be gone again.

But for now, she had to put her rage away until it was needed again.

She continued her work, quietly and patiently, until at last Fenris was restored to how it had been before the battle. Her will revived trees that had fallen, healed animals and people that had been injured by the collateral. Even the handful who had died were revived swiftly, with Isha plucking their souls from Fenris’s grasp to restore the lives which had been taken from them.

But did her ability to erase the damage she had done make up for the fact that it had occurred in the first place? Isha didn’t think so.

After all, she had not pulled herself back from her rage, the Emperor had. 

And that stung. Isha was grateful to him, and yet it did sting that he of all people had pulled her back from the edge.

What was she going to do?

But at least her work was complete. Isha tentatively reached out to Fenris. I am done, my child. I am sorry for the harm I have caused.

Fenris flinched back, and Isha immediately withdrew. She could not blame the World Spirit for doing so. It was only a reasonable reaction. 

Thank you, All-Mother, Fenris replied. And…I understand. What those daemons did was…cruel. It was meant to provoke you.

Which was exactly why Isha should have known better. But flagellating herself would not make Fenris feel better.

So Isha simply nodded.

She sat there for a while longer at the mountaintop after Fenris’s presence receded, watching the sun rise in the east. 

As the first rays of dawn hit the snow, making it shine, the Emperor appeared behind her.

“It is done,” He pronounced. “I dealt with the cultists, and eradicated every trace of their works. Fenris will not be endangered by them again.” 

Isha nodded. “Thank you.” 

“Of course,” The Emperor paused, apparently considering something. “This was all a distraction, I hope you realize” 

“I know,” Isha said, feeling her exhaustion even more acutely than before. “I know.”

Three Exalted, a warp rift nearly opened to consume a planet, and yet…it was all too sloppy.

Chaos was too clever for this. They would have known such a plot would never succeed. Not even Exalted Greater Daemons were not enough to match her and the Emperor, not really. She had not been able to kill the Monarch of the Hunt, but she was not in danger of it capturing or slaying her either. It was powerful, but she was still stronger. And more importantly, as long as the Emperor was there, he would intervene even if Isha had somehow lost the fight.

No, Chaos would never go for something this crude, this unlikely to work. Parasites they might be, but they were clever parasites.

This had all been a distraction, something to occupy their attention while the true plans were enacted elsewhere.

For what, Isha did not yet know.

But she was afraid she was going to find out soon.

“Chaos Undivided, and yet…Nurgle did not appear,” Isha said softly. “I suspect that his focus was on the true goal, whatever that is.” 

The Emperor grimaced, rubbing his chin. “I have been trying to scry for it, but I truly cannot tell. They have taken great pains to conceal this from me.” 

He sounded frustrated. For someone who had relied on his divination for millennia, Chaos successfully obscuring his vision despite repeated attempts to pierce it must have been frustrating.

“There is no point in obsessing over it now,” Isha said distantly. “We should continue our search for your sons.” 

“Yes,” The Emperor agreed wearily. “I will continue my scrying attempts, but we cannot linger.”

“Yes,” Isha replied.

For a moment, she wanted to offer a goodbye to Fenris, to apologize again before going. But she remembered how the World Spirit had flinched away from her.

Breathing in deeply, Isha teleported back to the Epona without waiting for the Emperor.

The instant she was back in her room aboard the ship, Isha felt a little worse. Not angrier, but certainly even more tired and worn down. Despite everything, despite her loss of control and the World Spirit’s fear, it had felt good to be on Fenris, a planet well and truly alive in every way. The cold, ostentatious halls of the Emperor's ship could never compare.

But she could not stay on Fenris forever.

It was only then that she noticed the white streaks in the mirror, startling slightly.

Sighing, Isha forced them away, though it took more effort than she would have liked.

Running a hand through her hair, Isha wondered what to do next. She could feel the Emperor had returned to the ship as well, in his own chambers. Perhaps they should talk more, but she wasn’t up to dealing with him right now. Not at the moment.

The Goddess of Life cast an eye around her room, looking for a distraction.

Well, room. It was more accurately described as a suite, one intended for hosting guests. It was very much designed according to the Emperor's taste rather than her own. There was an enormous four poster bed decorated with silk sheets, with a larger elaborate chandelier above it. There was a lavish bath, a sitting room for welcoming others, and a study stocked with books.

It was all a display of enormous human wealth and luxury, none of which she cared about.

Isha could have altered it. She had, to some extent. The golden silk sheets and sofas had been changed to blue, the golden bath transmuted into simple marble.

But that was very simple. She could have gotten rid of the precious stones studding the bath, changed the colour of the walls from red to something more pleasing to her. Created a few plants to look after…

Isha just…didn't bother. What would be the point?

The image of her plants going up in golden flame flickered in her mind, the Emperor looming over her with murder in his eyes. She didn't think it would happen a second time, not with the contract that bound them both, but…she just couldn't bring herself to do it again.

With her rage pushed down, Isha just felt tired. Every bit of sixty million years weighed on her heavily, and she wished she could do as her children did, and just lie down and give up.

This was the price of being Incarnate, of being the point where mortality met godhood. Isha could feel the passage of time in ways that non-Incarnate gods never could, yet there would never be any rest for her like there was fpr mortals.

But no, to surrender now was the path to Nurgle. Isha could not, would not give up now. There was too much at stake, too much work to be done.

(Too much to atone for)

Sighing, Isha wandered into the study. It was at least somewhat more tasteful than the rest of the suite she had been given. The desk was carefully carved dark wood instead of yet more gold (something she had been genuinely surprised by) with a holoprojector on it. Isha considered picking up the treatise on humanity's development of terraforming methods again, but…it just didn't appeal to her at the moment.

Instead she turned her attention to the shelves, which were stocked with a number of paper books.

Isha flicked through the books, looking for anything worth reading. There was philosophy, biology, maths, romance novels and a book on human myths.

Isha pulled it out, examining the black cover, which had the title embossed in gold.

The Iliad.

Well, it couldn't hurt. It was something to read while she gathered the strength to deal with the Emperor, at least.