A Light Within Darkness.

Chapter 72 Alt POV



Upon the craft world Iyanden, Kalnedor scion of House Morathin stood over the corpse of Farseer Iyanna Arienal and more importantly the shattered soul stone that was placed against her chest that was mounted on an ornate necklace that hung low into the cleavage of her dress.

Kalnedor, the leader of the expedition that had left for Jake's world, and took copies of the Steeles containing the Sect's techniques and hymns that would shield their minds from Slannesh's gaze. And with proof of his abilities, proof of salvation all but in their face with the possibility of their kind having a chance to rebuild, the death-god-obsessed leader of the mostly ghost-driven Craftworld refused to see change.

She had refused to see a new path. Even as Kalnendor prayed for the farseer and powerful Pysker to be reborn in a time of peace he was well aware the still-living leadership of the Craftworld was watching him in well-hidden fear. "My brothers and sisters," Kalnedor spoke softly as he looked at the surrounding seers, guardians, and military officials that watched their duel... No the slaughter as Kalnendor was able to shatter her clairvoyance and disturb the local warp with the sect's techniques so her powerful sorcery couldn't be used.

"I bear salvation... Not free salvation as the techniques will bind your souls and make you incapable of harming the creator and the true disciples... But no longer will Slaanesh's whispers reach you, nor shall they take sips of your very soul's essence every time you feel emotions!" Kalnedor continued and then slammed his hand on the table denting it with his newfound pure physical strength. "The Eldar are dying now!" He roared looking at his fellow Aeldari.

"Every day, many of our people die to the Great Enemy, the Imperium, the Greenskins, the Great Devourer, and more!" He said coldly and the militant leaders could only look down in shame as this craft world was a ghost ship of its original billions if not trillions of living people upon it, were cut in more than half with the majority of their military force being wraith constructs that used the souls of the departed to fight their battles.

The Aeldari as a race were a spent people, the lives lost to the galaxy's horrors far outweighed the few Eldar being born bringing a slow inevitable extinction to the race.

So Kalnendor reached over and placed his gloved hand on the large stone almost tombstone-looking effigy that was engraved with glowing runes and glyphs that were the Sect's Steele's. "My brothers and sisters... What do you have to lose?" He questioned finally and the two dozen leaders of the Craftworld shared glances before an older male Eldar with red hair tapped the large table that separated them with his knuckles to get the attention of the room.

"Your words bear many promises... Yet you say far less of the origins of this miracle." The old general of the Craftworld Autarch Leader spoke slowly as his wizened eyes that had seen countless thousands of years eyed his Captain who had come back from his mission so changed.

Kalnedor shook his head as the bindings on his soul tightened ever so slightly in warning and he wryly smiled as he responded. "The source of these techniques and teachings although powerful cannot withstand the Great Enemy's concentrated assault so I cannot answer as to the source." Kalnedor took a breath as his fellow Eldar shared looks before he exhaled and tapped the stone one last time.

"I came back to teach my people methods in which to save themselves from Slaanesh's gaze... With that simple yet overwhelming boon, so long as we keep our heads down and out of sight of the Greenskins and Great Devourer, we will be able to rebuild our race in time!" Kalnedor said with fervor before smiling sadly as he shook his head. "But I won't force you. I stopped our insane farseer from sacrificing us all to possibly only make Ynnead roll over in his sleep. And if you accept my offer of sharing the teachings great... If not I will merely return to study the source of the techniques to become stronger." Kalnedor said bluntly and then left the meeting room and the corpse of his once leader who had broken under the weight of their dying race and decided to embrace death while dragging everyone else with her.

 

 

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