Love Can Bloom - The Complete Edition: A Warhammer 40K Heretical Fanfiction

Chapter IV - 4

Farseer Taldeer pursed her lips to suppress a grunt of pain as she probed at her wound. Blood crunched, as she dragged at more of the half crystalline clotting. Maybe I won't die yet, she thought, maybe first I'll turn into crystal, like the other old men. Make an interesting landmark for the Imperial colonists, she reflected bitterly. Then, picked apart by mon-keigh for purposes of romancing each other.

The runestones still lay, bounced across where they were. From time to time, her attention waned from her wounds to glance at them. The ground splits, the mouth smiles, the fall is good. Sweet fruit inside dead mouths. The love of the enemy. Then walk through fire.

For once, she wondered as she picked off the choice stone from the stone of the blind man seeing, wouldn't it be nice if they would say something like; enemy troop movements, allies position, things that would be practical?

She arose, picking up her helmet, and putting it on.

"That only increases your target profile," she froze, her helmet halfway on.

It was like being snuck up on by your own shadow. "Aren't you quiet," muttered Taldeer, as she finished placing her helm on, "And aside from that, why should you care what my target profile is like?" It seemed strangely wobbly. She felt along the chin, seeking for the pins that held it in place.

"It is harder to maintain unit integrity and speed if we draw conflict to ourselves," The Vindicare set down the Lasrifle carefully, as he approached Taldeer. Taldeer for her part was doing her best to ignore him.

"'Unit integrity'? Forgive me for desiring a little independence, but I'd rather not depend upon a sociopathic mon-keigh," she tapped her helm, "I'm going to need this."

"Really."

"Yes."

"It has taken damage."

"So?" The Vindicare stepped forward, as Taldeer turned around slowly.

The sky was turning darker by the moment, not that either of them would care, she mused. Was he trying to intimidate her with his height? Well, she thought, gripping her spear, she was not about to be pushed around by something that hadn't even been born by the time she had killed someon-

The Vindicare reached forward, placing a single finger on the helmet. He pushed it slowly, ninety degrees. She saw the hints of his psychic signature through the wraithbone, as LIIVI stepped back.

"Did your strap break?"

"Very well," said the Farseer, removing the helmet and setting it to the ground to her side, "You don't have to demean me."

"And the... Wings?"

"They stay," She would not toss away her soulstones so easily. Taldeer raised her head, then glanced to the horizon, "Where do we go then... I suppose you hadn't thought of that, did you?"

"I have thought of that. Since I have failed my original assignment, and as of yet the planet has not been secured, standard Imperial protocol concerning Xenos Farseers would result in-"

"They'll hunt me down with kill-teams."

A nod.

"Awfully kind of them, concerning everything," Taldeer crouched, placing her palm on the ground, "I wonder if it's Sturnn," she muttered, her hands playing through the cold ground, winding and dancing. She closed her eyes for a moment and nodded.