【战锤40k同人作品翻译】 Ennui 第二十五章：光芒 Light
本章概述：
魅魔被重塑了。
In which a succubus is made anew.
正文：
我看不见了。
我的五感在过载的灵能中燃烧，双眼被光芒灼伤，双耳被难以置信的心跳声震聋。就好像我被扔进了濒死恒星的内核，被无可感知的灵能尖啸所包围。
这就是原因吗？
这就是为什么我族一直以来都无法反抗Mon-Keigh的原因吗？
这个意志。
这个灵魂。
非死亦非生，不知为何又超脱生死。它纯粹的存在即是一声永恒的长嚎，在亚空间的扭曲中劈波斩浪，直达亚历莎称之为神圣泰拉的孤寂星球，直达这个被围困和污染的行星，以及更加，更加遥远的地方。
怎会如此？
怎么会？！
人类——这般昙花一现的种族怎会产生如此耀眼夺目的存在？
“你能感受到祂吗？”亚历莎如一柄冰冷的解脱之刃般的嗓音刺穿了灵能尖啸。“祂听见我了……祂听见我们了，伊莎莱！”
她欣喜若狂地高声呼喊，我随着睁开双眼而震惊地发觉自己并没有像之前那样消逝。我不富生机也不强壮，但一直以来在我的灵魂的边缘啃噬着的利齿已经被亚历莎的神皇的无上伟力逼退了。
“不可能，”我盯着头顶翻滚的风暴，这几个字从口中滚落，“这……这不可能。”
亚历莎面朝天空，金色光辉从倾泻的雷雨云间散落开来。焦铜色和琥珀色的闪电自云端急驰而下，击中了尖塔并将之像古树般劈开。
“神圣而无缺的神皇啊！”亚历莎高喊着伸出双臂，高举双手顶礼膜拜。“祢的女儿在祢的脚下谦卑地屈膝！”
我对恐惧的概念谈不上熟悉。几千年来我一直不在它所触及的范围内，可此时此地，在从岁月和力量上高出我好几个数量级的存在前，我甚至都无法理解它……
我很害怕。
“恩典之神皇！伟岸之神皇！”亚历莎以虔信者的热忱对着天空高声赞颂。“祢的女儿恳求祢，哪怕这并非祢的信条亦非祢的指令，求求祢！父亲，求求祢！令吾爱远离灾厄之獠牙！令她远离混沌与死亡之血口！”
我的四肢瑟瑟发抖，却无关身体的虚弱。我的双臂和双腿的颤抖，以及内脏不受控制的收缩都源于存粹、原始的恐惧。
我能感觉到它……感觉到祂对我降下了注视。在某种程度上我几乎希望那本是饥渴女士，因为那至少是我在一定程度上知晓的存在。我知道自己与同胞的末日并立之处，可这个存在，这个灵魂实在是……
陌生。
另一声灵能意志的低鸣劈开了天穹，如虚空般深邃的闪电瓦解了附近的尖塔的石质基座，天空紧接着先在一轮虹彩中缓缓剥开，一束如破晓般纯净的金色光柱随之笼罩了我们两人。
亚历莎又一次放低双手抚上我的面庞，一边凝视着那光芒一边轻抚我的脸颊。
“赞颂祂吧，伊莎莱，”她柔声细语。“赞颂祂吧，因祂乃人类之神皇，祂的目光正落在你的身上。”
最后那个胜过一切的念头，是恐惧。
我整个人：肉体、思想和灵魂，都感觉好像被无痛地剥开来，以供审视、裁决并分析。
“神皇啊，”亚历莎又一次开口。“我知晓她已经犯下了罪过……但我恳求祢，无论祢要带走我的什么，无论祢要我做什么，它们都属于你！但请令她免于恶魔之诞生！令她免于——啊！”
她的最后一句话随着身体的僵直戛然而止，灵能光芒从她的双眼和口中迸发而出。
“亚历莎！”我虚弱地伸出手去，但与此同时，一阵重量降临到了我的身上，它压倒了我，推回了我，就像在说：“停下……不要干涉。”
“呃——噢……伊莎莱……”她的声音在从自身升腾起来的力量中回响，她的语气中伴着一丝恐惧。“我看到它了……我……我看到它了！”
我只有一瞬的机会不解于到底看到了什么能让她的声音如此破碎，一记灵能重锤随之便击昏了我，又深挖进我灵魂的洞窟中将我挖出了自己的躯体。
胸膛好似被一把灼人的寒冰所占据，它伸展出手指缠绕并抓紧了我的肋骨，随即像是要将我骨肉分离一样向上猛力拉扯。
疼痛感一下子压垮了我，但这只持续了片刻。随着我的五感回归，我发现自己正仰视着什么——这次不再是风暴，而是……我自己。
更确切地讲，那是我自己破碎的镜像；被灵能束缚悬在我头顶的那个女人憔悴、衰老，被长年累月的纵欲和恶行所荼毒。她是个老太婆……一个女巫，正如亚历桑德拉和她的姐妹们一开始指控的那样。
她令人毛骨悚然。
“伊莎莱……”
亚历莎恳求的声音把我从眼前的景象中扯回来，我进一步抬起头来看向她。
她的脸上有一种说不出的紧张。亚历莎平时柔软温和的五官被抻成了狰狞的厌恶。她直勾勾地大睁着双眼，张着嘴凝视着一片虚无，金光从她翠绿的眼中倾泻而出。
“噢……神皇啊……我明白了，”亚历莎的话断断续续，她抬起双手在纯粹的恐惧中捂住嘴巴。“我明白了……噢，伊莎莱……你的族人……我看到他们了，我全都看见了。”
随着我明白她看见了什么，一股沉重的负担在我的心头凝结。难以置信，她的神皇向亚历莎展现了我族受诅的真相，而我只能假定那是我们的罪行的本质。
“你们都做了些什么……”伊莎莱向外凝视着，她的手指僵直，指节发白。“邪恶……你族孕育了纯粹、无可估量的邪恶。”
“我们不知道，”我啜泣着。“这对我们诅咒的兆亿人来说毫无意义，但求求你不要……亚历莎……我们真的不知道。”
“那眼睛，伊莎莱啊，那眼睛……”伊莎莱语气之惊恐让我尝到了切肤之痛。她在这之后还怎么能再看向我？在看到了我的同类犯下了什么罪后？
“不，这不是眼睛……”她继续以憔悴的低语说道。“这是永恒的长啸，是不朽的母亲被她恶毒的孩子从内噬穿的伤口……难言之恐惧的滴血烂疮。”
我试图屏蔽她的喃喃自语。我闭上眼睛，试图阻塞我的耳朵。我试图在心底充盈她最后一次看向我时的眼神——充斥着爱与渴求、孤注一掷的希望和纯粹的共情。我想就这样记住她，毕竟如何，如何？她如何能在知晓我们黑暗灵族之饥渴的真相时还不对我充满厌恶？
她怎么可能还会爱我？
“罪恶，罪恶，罪恶！”亚历莎正抱紧自己，前后摇晃着发出怪异的吞咽声，我觉得那是她正尽力不吐出自己的内脏的声音。“难以置信之罪恶，天理难容之罪恶！”
她说的没错。
随着古灵族帝国的毁灭，我们的黄金时代结束了，饥渴女士的时代随之降临到了我们身上。在那个瞬间，当我们灵能层面上的纵欲凝结并诞下欢愉王子时，我们便诅咒了自己和无数其他的种族的每一个人。
艾达灵族之末日。
混沌之神色孽。
有那么一会儿，我憎恨祂。神皇本可以让我死去，祂本可以许给我这个，让亚历莎悲痛于我的回忆，可现在……现在他正以向她展现任何凡人都不该承受的景象来撕碎她的心智。
甚至连黑暗灵族被上千年的恐惧所硬化的内心也无法在不被冲蚀的情况下目睹这番景象。
“伊莎莱，”亚历莎的嗓音微弱而缭绕不绝，我强行让自己睁开双眼。无论她脸上是什么表情，我都会承受下来，毕竟那是我罪有应得。
“我看到他们了。”
她的双手从脸上落下，声音中夹着细微的恐惧。金光已经离开了她的双眼，那双眼睛现在正紧闭着，也许是在驱散那些被她残忍的神皇强加于她的画面吧。
“噢……神皇啊……我看见它的降生了，”她继续说道，我瑟缩着又一次闭上眼睛，这次是因为羞愧。“我看见黄金的尖塔化作黑灰……我看见惨叫声在亿万人口中化作尖叫着的恶魔，看见银白的灵魂坠入嬉笑着的无尽黑暗……噢，伊莎莱……我看见你做了什么了。”
“对不起，”痛苦的热泪从我的脸颊上滑下。“我……我很抱歉，亚历莎……我——”
“而我会宽恕你。”
我的声音夭折在了喉咙间。
“你不能这么做。”
我不确定自己为什么要这么说，可是这是我想到的唯一能说出口的话，也许因为这是事实吧。
罪无可恕。不可名状。我们一族所做的行径之邪恶，以至现实世界唯一能做的就是吐出一个黑暗之神以作回答。
“我能，”亚历莎低声说，她依旧紧闭双眼以抵御幻象的冲击。我不知道她是不是还能看见它们，即便是在现在。“我能宽恕……我能选择宽恕你，伊莎莱。”
“这不是你该承受的重担， Cre’yth。”为什么我不能就这样接受她的话呢？这样会更容易些，这么接受它会更好，可是……这样感觉不对。“就算它是，”我继续说道，“也不足以消除千百个生命周期里的堕落。”
亚历莎没有回答，而是把手放回了我的脸颊上。
这并不像这之前那样舒适或切实，但她还是这么做了，哪怕她的双手在触碰我的皮肤时仍在颤抖，就好像她预期那里有些许浮油在等着她，如果那里真的有的话我也不会感到意外。然而，她的拇指以那熟悉的爱意抚摸我的脸颊的线条，她一直都带着这种喜爱触碰我，在那个瞬间我自感不配。
光芒的风暴在我凝视着头顶那仍悬着的可憎的灵魂复制品时仍存在于我们的身边。她的表情仍扭作一团卑劣、丑恶的憎恨的嘴脸，而我在她恶心的样貌上找到了些许安慰。
她就是我，我就是这么完全、彻底地厌恶她。
“我爱你，‘莱，”亚历莎抽泣着。“我也宽恕你，因为你并非你曾经的那样……你现在要更好。”
“你不会知道的，”我哑着嗓子回答。“你不会知道。”
“然而，”伊莎莱带着平静的坚定说道，她的嗓音的颤抖自这场不可能之事开始起第一次平稳了下来，“我仍有信仰。”
她又一次抬起头来，对着风暴开口。
“深爱着一切殉道者的神皇呵，”亚历莎念诵起来。“我为祢献上这愿意为她所爱的我而死的灵族之灵魂，她面对过爆弹和刀剑，并凭信仰而在其面前袒露真情。”
一股灼烧感爬上了我的四肢，我头顶的幽灵剧烈地扑腾了起来。
“神皇呵，祢的慈悲自神圣泰拉遍及全银河，全人类都笼罩在祢的怀抱中，”伊莎莱的声音达到了顶点，她的高喊与头顶的闪电和鸣。“我恳求祢为我所爱的她，爱着我的她，降下至微的仁慈，如果她愿意让祢触碰她的灵魂。”
在那个瞬间，我的每一寸皮肤都突然爆发了纯粹而猛烈的痛苦。
我的后背在尖叫中弯折，从未承受过的疼痛烧过了我的经络，吞噬了我的肌肉与骨骼。我感到喉咙裂开了，口腔随着我一次又一次的嚎叫而充满了血液。
从头到尾，亚历莎都抱着我。
“承受它，伊莎莱！”她大喊。“承受这痛苦！受尽磨难者是有福的！因祂即是替我们受难的！”
我无法回答，我什么都说不出来。我的心智被夺目的白光轰击着。我的全身像是每时每刻都在被渐渐地烧却，一点又一点，而我能感受到这个过程的每一个瞬间！我无法呼吸，能感觉到的除了亚历莎的触碰、她的声音，和那化作了我的存在本身的疼痛。
“承受它吧，吾爱！”
亚历莎清凉的双唇在这话语间贴在我的额头上，我因它们给予的片刻的宽慰而啜泣，即便我憎恨着它们离开的每一刻。
“我……做不到！”我在痛苦的疯狂中咬牙切齿地说出了这句话。“杀——杀了我……求求你！”
“你做得到，伊莎莱！”亚历莎大吼道。“承受住祂仁慈的怒火！承受住祂爱意的报复！而我每时每刻都会在这里！”
“求——求你……”我的话变成了一片悲伤的嘶声。“我做——做不到……”
“你爱我吗？”亚历莎低语道，哪怕隔着在骨肉间肆虐的风暴我也能听见这句话。“伊莎莱……你爱我吗？”
我在那绷紧了每一块肌肉和肌腱的电痛中发动起下颌。哪怕是神明的怒火也不足以让我对这个问题沉默以对。
“从——从现在……直到永——永远……我——我的亚历莎。”
“那便承受罢！”亚历莎对着已经成为我的存在的尖叫声下令。
我又一次惨叫起来，这一次带着抵抗，我的口中满是铜臭和胆汁的味道。我强睁开眼睛，将我的恨、我的痛，和我的每一分愤怒聚焦于对着我头顶上那个狂怒地挣扎的污秽灵魂的凝视中。
我恨它。
恨她。
她窃取了我的人生；她即是啃噬着我族的灵魂、推倒了灵族帝国的高塔之物。她即是纵欲与恶意，腐化与堕落。
而即便我无从否认她就是我，此时此地我也可以选择，选择再也不成为她。
我可以选择做得更好。
变得更好。
我可以选择我的亚历桑德拉。
我的惨叫声撕裂了天空中的风暴，黄铜和琥珀色的闪电在头顶漆黑的雷雨云中劈开了道道沟壑。
一个接一个地，如快速开火的毒晶炮一般在星辰间的战场上喷吐出一场触目惊心的风暴。
一片战场。
我的呼吸在我仰视天空的瞬间凝滞在肺中。在我意识到自己所看着的正是一片战场时我一时间忘记了疼痛的侵袭。我们身边尽是闪电和烈火的碰撞，尽是黑暗、诅咒和折磨。
那是在灵魂之海中上演的灵能战争的物质映射。
一场纯洁和腐败间的战争。在戒律和放纵间……是一场亚历莎的至圣神皇之光和欢愉王子本尊的黑暗阴影间的战争。
“你能感受到祂的战斗么，吾爱？”亚历莎的嗓音在倾盆大雨中化作一声刺耳的低语。她发问时好似已经知道答案，好似她知道我已经知晓了自己目睹了什么。
“你能感受到祂的爱吗？”
我能。
就像我能感受到一波波滚过至高天的无尽动荡一样，伊莎莱的神皇将自己投向了灵族的末日，将他强劲的金色闪电投向了饥渴女士的无尽渴求，而还有呢？
祂快赢了。
痛苦蹂躏着我，无穷无尽也毫不减弱。每一波都和上一波一样苦不堪言，如若不是更为痛苦的话，而亚历莎全程都抱着我，竭力劝我承受住出自于她的爱的惩罚。
而我会这么做。
我会为了她承受任何事。她承受了窥视我的整个受诅种族时的磨难，更糟的是她还看到我我的，而尽管她在那悲惨的时刻一定看到了什么……她也宽恕了我。她宽恕的难以名状的罪恶不仅是污染了我的种族的，也有针对于我的。
一切都是因为她坚信我能做得更好。
于是我在神经被焚毁，灵魂在皮肤下燃烧时惨叫着，扭动着。我用我知道的每一种语言咒骂，随着世界在我头顶破裂、褪色而骂出了灵族语，兽人语，和人类语的每一句脏话。
直到最后……幸好……一切归于寂静。
我的身体感觉就像是一根暴露在空气中的电线，浑身上下每一寸都被汗水浸透。我动弹不得……几乎无法呼吸……但我还活着。
“伊莎莱。”
我深呼吸了一口气，吞了口唾沫，然后从被惨叫蹂躏过的喉咙和尽力张开的嘴唇间挤出了回答。
“我在这儿，亚历莎……”我回答道。“我……我在这里。”
她如释重负地叹了口气，她的双手回到了我的脸颊上，拇指以我渴望的那种亲切的熟悉感抚摸着我。我会一直渴求她的触碰，我毫无疑问地知道这点，就像我知道她也永远会需要我的一样。
“你能啊看到吗。吾爱？”她幸福的嗓音夹着泪水。“我能……啊，伊莎莱……我能看见你……你真的好美。”
我又深吸了另一口气才强睁开眼睛。我灵魂的鬼影消失了，头顶的天空被撕开了一个洞。我能看见闪烁的星光和月亮的银白。因我卑微的灵魂而发动的天国中的战争已经耗尽了安菲特里亚的这一边区域中风暴的怒火，在我们头顶睁开了一只平和的眼睛。
可是我看不见亚历莎正看着的东西。
“你在说什么啊？”我转头看见亚历莎正面带痴迷的笑容凝视着天空。
“你的灵魂，‘莱，”她温柔地回答。“像是新生的恒星……一座散发纯净光芒的灯塔。”
“不可能，”我不假思索地喃喃道。“亚历莎……我是被污染着的……我是——”
我开始争辩说我被诅咒了，可在我这么时我意识到什么东西从我的口中偷走了这些话。
我并不饥饿。
也不干渴。
我的黑暗灵族之饥渴并不是被我所经受的喷涌的灵能力量所满足了。它也不是被压制或囚禁住了。
它消失了。
我的诅咒，在我的灵魂上永远地抽取着自身活力并注入亚空间的印记完全被亚历莎的神皇之光烧却了。他与欢愉王子交手，为我的灵魂与司掌欢愉的混沌之神交战，而且他赢了。
我自由了。
一声呃逆溢出我的嘴唇，随即是解脱的啜泣，随着我在生命中第一次完全、切实的感受而转变为放声痛哭。我紧贴着亚历莎，她也抱紧我，让我的脸埋在她的胸前依偎着她，我一直深埋到不让亚空间里饥肠辘辘的黑暗窥视到的情感迸发而出。
“已经没事了，”亚历莎柔声低语。“你现在在祂的庇护下了，吾爱。你从今往后都会被天鹰的羽翼所保护，只要你沐浴在黄金王座的光芒下，任何阴影都无法触及你。”
我感谢了她，我想……不过我不太记得是怎么做的了。词句从我口中接连冒出来，都是关于爱和奉献的誓言，尽管我不确定有没有哪怕一句是哥特语。我只知道，在那个瞬间，我感受到了以前从来都没有理由在自己身上寻找的东西。是一种奇异的、升腾的光芒和渴望，超脱于任何凡躯。
信仰，我如此认为。
对，我觉得我感受到了……信仰。
“和我一起祈祷吧，伊莎莱，”亚历莎闭着双眼向后仰去，然后与我额头相抵。“向地球之主祈祷。”
“我该说什么？”我沙哑地抗拒道。“我……我不能……我能说什么？”
“神皇深爱着所有的殉道者，伊莎莱，”她以微笑回应，“而你已经准备好为祂的女儿而死……不，不只是死亡，而是湮灭。”她从我的头上抬起头来，又一次将嘴唇贴上我的额头。“那么现在，他也爱着你了。”
我不懂Mon-Keigh说的仪式用语，也不懂亚历桑德拉所称呼的高哥特语，但她教给我那些词语和它们的意思，带着我完成了一篇简短的感恩祷言。出乎我的意料，我发觉自己在感激祂拯救了我，从饥渴女士的饥饿中庇护了我，将我的灵魂带到他的羽翼下时真心实意地从口中说出了每字每句。
“你感觉怎样？”我们结束了祷告，当我倚靠在亚历莎身上，在浸透了雨水的冷空气中微微发抖时，她发问道。
“很好，”我回答道，随即轻笑起来。“我……这种感觉很怪，我也不知道自己有没有完全理解，可是……我觉得我感觉很好。”
“那么这一切都是值得的，”亚历莎带着微笑说，随后缓缓地站起身来，将我一并拉起来。“现在，唔……我觉得我们该回到床上了……我不确定自己还能站多久。”
随着我的双腿在自身的体重下发颤，我轻笑起来。“我倒不反对这个，Cre’yth，”我说话时带着微笑。
“你会帮我吗？”她好像需要帮助似的问道，我在她环抱住我的一条手臂时皱起了眉头。
一个可怕的想法在我看向她时萌生了出来。
亚历莎仍然没有睁开她的眼睛。
“亚历桑德拉，吾爱？”我讨厌我嗓音中的颤抖，而她报以的那个笑容中的什么东西又一次让我心碎。
“怎么了，’莱？”
“你能……你能不能睁开你的眼睛？”我的声线在恳求她时变得沙哑起来，她的双唇弯了下去，变成了一个轻微的皱眉。
随后她点了点头，看向了我的方向，然后睁开了双眼，露出了一双完全是乳白色的球体。
原文：
I was blinded.
My senses were burning with psychic overload, my eyes seared by light, my ears deafened by the thunder of an impossible heartbeat. It was like I had been thrown into the core of a dying star, surrounded by the psychic scream of an impossible sentience.
Was this the reason?
Was this why my kind had always failed to push back against the Mon-Keigh?
This mind.
This soul.
Neither dead nor alive, and somehow more than both. Its sheer presence was an eternal roar that split the torment of the warp to be heard from the lonely world that Alessa named Holy Terra, to this sieged and tainted planet, and far, far beyond.
How?
How?!
How could a race as fleeting as humanity produce a being so utterly and blindingly luminous?
“Can you feel Him?” Alessa’s voice carved through the psychic scream like a cold blade of relief. “He heard me… He heard us, Isarae!”
Her voice was high with ecstatic glee, and as I opened my eyes I found to my shock that I wasn’t fading as I had been before. I wasn’t vital or strong but the teeth that had been gnawing at the edges of my soul had been forced away by the sheer magnitude of Alessa’s God-Emperor.
“Impossible,” the words fell from my lips as I stared at the churning storm above us. “This… this is impossible.”
Alessa’s face was raised to the skies, where golden light was spilling from between the cascading thunderheads. Lightning the color of scorched bronze and amber lept between the clouds to strike spires and split them like ancient trees.
“Oh God-Emperor, divine and perfect!” Alessa cried out, arms outstretched and hands raised in worship. “Your daughter kneels humbly at thy feet!”
I cannot say I am familiar with the notion of fear. For so many millennia I have existed beyond its reach, but here and now, beneath the gaze of something that outweighs me in both age and power by so many orders of magnitude I cannot even fathom it…
I am afraid.
“God-Emperor who is grace! God-Emperor who is mighty!” Alessandra bellowed her praises to the sky with the fervor of a true believer. “Your daughter begs thee, though it be not thy creed nor command, please! Father, please! Spare my love from the maw of disaster! Spare her from the jaws of Chaos and death!”
My limbs trembled in a manner that had nothing to do with the weakness of my body. The shake of my arms and legs, and the loose clench of my bowels was born of nothing short of sheer, primordial terror.
I could feel it… feel Him bearing down upon me. In a way I almost wished it was She Who Thirsts because at least that being was something I understood to an extent. I knew where I stood with the apocalypse of my people, but this being, this soul was truly…
Alien.
Another bass boom of psychic will split the skies, thunder with the depth of the void cracked the rockcrete foundations of the nearby spires, and on its heels, the skies peeled apart with aching slowness of an opening iris and a pillar of light, pure and gold as maiden dawn, enveloped both of us.
Alessa lowered her hands to my face again, cradling my cheeks as she stared up into the light.
“Praise Him, Isarae,” she whispered softly. “Praise Him, for He is the God-Emperor of Mankind, and His eyes are upon you.”
That final notion, more than anything, was terrifying.
The whole of me: body, mind, and soul, felt as though it were being painlessly flensed open to be examined, judged, and analysed.
“God-Emperor” Alessa began again. “I know that she has sinned,” tears began falling from her face again as she spoke, “I know that I have sinned… but I beg of thee, whatever you must take from me, whatever you ask of me, it is yours! But spare her from the begetting of daemons! Spare her from- AH!”
Her final words cut off as she went rigid, and psychic light erupted from her eyes and mouth.
“Alessa!” I reached out weakly, but as I did a weight fell upon my, pressing me down, pushing me back, as if to say ‘Stop… do not interfere.’
“O-Oh… Isarae…” Her voice came echoing through the onslaught of power that was rising up from her, and her tone was tinged with horror. “I see it… I… I see it!”
I had only the briefest moment to wonder what it was she was seeing that had made her voice so ragged when something like psychic hammer descended on me, bludgeoning me insensible, and then digging itself deep into the caverns of my soul to dredge me up and out of my body.
It was like a fist of burning ice had taken hold of my sternum, laced its fingers twixt my ribs, gripped, then ripped upward as if it were trying to pull the bones from my flesh.
The pain was blinding and deafening all at once, but it lasted all of a moment before my senses returned and I found myself staring up, not at the storm now, but at… myself.
Or rather, it was a cracked mirror of myself; the woman that hung on tenterhooks of psychic will above me was withered, ancient, and poisoned by ages of excess and evil. She was a hag… a witch, no less than Alessandra and her Sisters had first accused me of.
She was a horror.
“Isarae…”
Alessa’s pleading voice tore me from the vision in front of me, and I angled my head up further to look at her.
There was an unspeakable strain to her face. Alessa’s features, normally so soft and gentle, were stretched to a tight rictus of revulsion. Her eyes had flown unblinkingly wide, and her mouth hung open as she stared into nothingness while golden light poured from her emerald eyes.
“Oh… God-Emperor… I understand,” Alessa hiccupped, and her hands drew up to cover her mouth in an expression of pure horror. “I understand… oh, Isarae… your people… I see them, I see all of them.”
A weight formed like heavy rime around my heart as I understood what it was she was being shown. Her God-Emperor, impossibly, was showing Alessa the true nature of my kind’s curse and with it, I could only presume, the nature of our sin.
“What have you done…” Alessa spoke through rigid fingers and white knuckles as she stared outward. “Evil… your kind birthed pure, incalculable evil.”
“We didn’t know,” I sobbed. “It means nothing to the trillions we have damned but please… Alessa… we didn’t know.”
“The Eye, oh Isarae, the Eye…” Alessa spoke with such horror that it caused me physical pain. How could she possibly look at me after this? After seeing what my kind is guilty of?
“No, it’s no eye…” she continued in a drawn whisper. “It’s an eternal scream, the wound of a shrieking, undying mother as her venomous child eats its way out of her… a festering, hemorrhagic sore of unspeakable horror.”
I tried to blot out her mutterings. I closed my eyes, tried to stop up my ears. I tried to fill my mind with images of how she looked at me last, with eyes full of love and longing, with desperate hope and pure compassion. I wanted to remember her like that because how, how? How could she look upon me with anything but disgust, knowing the truth of my Druchi Thirst?
How could she possibly still love me?
“Sin, sin, sin!” Alessa was cradling herself now, rocking forward and back as she made odd gulping sounds that I thought were her effort to keep from voiding her own guts. “Impossible sin. Unforgivable sin!”
She wasn’t wrong.
With the ravaging of the old Aeldarii Empire, our golden age ended and the age of She Who Thirsts came upon us. In an instant, we damned every one of our own kind and innumerable others, possibly the whole of the galaxy, when our psychic hedonism congealed to give birth to the Prince of Excess.
The Doom of the Aeldarii.
The Chaos God Slaanesh.
For a moment, I hated Him. The God-Emperor could have let me die, He could have permitted me that much and allowed Alessa to grieve for the memory of me, but now… now he was tearing her mind to pieces by showing her sights no mortal should be subject to.
Not even a Drukhari mind, hardened by millennia of horror, could see such sights without being scoured.
“Isarae,” Alessa’s voice was small and haunted, and I forced my eyes open. Whatever the look upon her face, I would endure it, because it was no less than I deserved.
“I saw them…”
She spoke with quiet dread as her hands fell from her face. The golden light had gone from her eyes, and they were closed now, perhaps trying to shut out the images that had been forced upon her by her cruel God-Emperor.
“Oh… God-Emperor… I saw It born,” she continued, and I flinched, shutting my eyes again, this time in shame. “I saw golden spires turn to black ash… I saw screams turn to shrieking daemons in the mouths of millions, saw silver souls fall into the endless, laughing dark… Oh, Isarae… I saw what you did.”
“I’m sorry,” tears, hot and painful, spilled down my cheeks. “I’m… I’m so sorry, Alessa… I-”
“And I forgive you.”
My voice died stillborn in my throat.
“You can’t.”
I’m not sure why I said that, except that it was the only thing I could think of to say at all, and perhaps because it was true.
Unforgivable. Unspeakable. My kind had committed acts so vile that reality’s only measure was to vomit forth a dark god in reply.
“I can,” Alessa spoke in a hushed whisper, her eyes still screwed shut against the onslaught of visions. I wondered if she was still seeing them, even now. “I can forgive… I can choose to forgive you, Isarae.”
“It is not your burden to lift, Cre’yth.” Why couldn’t I just accept her words? It would be easier, it would be better to allow it, but… it felt wrong. “And even if it were,” I continued, “it would not be enough to lift a thousand lifetimes of ruin.”
Rather than reply, Allessa brought her hands back down to rest on my cheeks.
It was not as comfortable or as certain as it had been before this, but she did it, even if her hands were shaking as she touched my skin, as if she expected there to be some slick of oil there waiting for her, and if there had been I would not have been surprised. Still, though, her thumb traced along the line of my cheek with that familiar fondness that she always touched me with, and in that moment I felt unworthy.
All around us the storm of light persisted as I stared up at the hateful facsimile of my soul that still hung above me. Her face was twisted in an expression of low, ugly hatred, and I took some small comfort in the fact that I found her disgusting to look upon.
She was me, and I was utterly, utterly revolted.
“I love you, ‘Rae,” Alessa sobbed. “And I forgive you, because you are not who you were… you are better.”
“You cannot know that,” I croaked. “You cannot know.”
“And yet,” Alessa spoke with quiet conviction, the shake of her voice steadying for the first time since this impossibility began, “I still have faith.”
She raised her head again, and spoke into the storm.
“God-Emperor, Thou who love’st all martyrs,” Alessa intoned. “I give to thee the soul of an Eldar who would have died for her love of me, who stood before bolter and blade and, in faith, laid herself bare before them.”
A burning sensation crept along my limbs, and the specter above me began to thrash violently.
“Oh God-Emperor, whose mercy extends from Holy Terra across the galaxy to encompass all of mankind in thy embrace,” Alessa’s voice rose to a crescendo, and her cries echoed the beat of the thunder above us. “I beg of thee to spare but the meanest sliver of that mercy for she whom I love, and who loves me, if she would but accept your hand upon her soul.”
In that instant, every inch of my skin erupted into pure, blistering agony.
My back arched as I screamed, and pain like nothing I had ever endured seared through my veins, blistering and devouring muscle and bone. I felt my throat split, and blood fill my mouth as I screamed and screamed and screamed.
And through it all, Alessa held me.
“Endure it, Isarae!” She cried. “Endure the agony! Blessed are those who suffer! For blessed is He who suffers for us!”
I couldn’t respond. I couldn’t say anything. My mind was blitzed by white, excoriating light. My whole body felt like it was being burnt away a hairsbreadth at a time, bit by bit, and I could feel every single moment of it! I could not breath, could not see or sense anything but Alessa’s touch, her voice, and the sheer, bloody pain that had become my existence.
“Endure this my love!”
Alessa’s blessedly cool lips pressed to my forehead between her words, and I sobbed at the bare instants of relief they granted, even as I hated them the moment they were gone.
“I… CAN’T!” I bit the words out through the madness of agony. “K-Kill me… please!”
“You can, Isarae!” Alessa bellowed. “Endure the wrath of His mercy! Endure the vengeance of His love! And I will be here for every moment!”
“Ple~ase…” My voice was a hiss of plaintive air. “I c-cannot…”
“Do you love me?” Alessa whispered, and I heard it even through the storm that raged in my bones. “Isarae… do you love me?”
I worked my jaw around the electric anguish that kept every muscle and tendon taut. Not even the wrath of a God would keep me silent against that question.
“N-Now… and f-forever… m-my Alessa.”
“THEN ENDURE!” Alessa commanded against the endless roar that had become my existence.
I screamed again, this time in defiance, my mouth filling with the taste of copper and bile. I forced my eyes open again, and I focused my hate, my pain, and every ounce of my rage into a glare aimed up at the poisoned soul that hung thrashing and raging above me.
I hated it.
Hated her.
She had stolen my life from me; she was everything that was eating away at the soul of my race, everything that had toppled the towers of the Aeldarii Empire. She was excess and spite, depravity and degeneracy.
And although I could not deny that she was me, I could choose, here and now, that I would never again be her.
I could choose to do better.
To be better.
I could choose my Alessandra.
My scream tore through the storm of the sky, and brazen-amber lightning carved furrows through the black thunderheads above.
One after another, rapid-fire like rounds of a splinter cannon spitting a harrowing storm over a stellar battlefield.
A battlefield.
My breath froze in my lungs as I stared up at the sky and for a moment the blitz of pain was forgotten as I realised that a battlefield was exactly what I was looking at. The crashes of lightning and fire, the darkness, the damnation and torment all around us.
It was the material reflection of a psychic war playing out in the Sea of Souls.
A war between purity and corruption. Between orthodox and excess… a war between the light of Alessa’s divine God-Emperor and the shadow of the Prince of Excess itself.
“Can you feel Him fighting, my love?” Alessa's voice was a harsh, rasping whisper in the torrential rain. She asked as if she already knew the answer, as if she knew that I had realised what I was seeing.
“Can you feel His love?”
I could.
Just as I could feel the endless cataclysm that rolled through the Empyrean in waves as Alessa’s God-Emperor cast Himself against the Doom of the Aeldarii, pitting his ravenous golden light against the endless hunger of She Who Thirsts, and what’s more?
He was winning.
Pain ravaged me, endless and unfaded. Every wave was as agonising as the last, if not more, and through it all Alessa cradled me, urging me to endure the punishment out of love for her.
And I would
I would endure anything for her. She had suffered to look upon the soul of my whole damned species, and worse she had looked upon mine, and despite what she must have seen in those harrowing moments… she had forgiven me. She had forgiven me for the unspeakable sins that stained not only my species, but those specific to me.
All because she had faith that I could be better.
So I screamed and I thrashed as my nerves burned and my soul blazed beneath my skin. I cursed in every tongue I knew, every invective in the tongues of Aeldar, Ork, and Mankind flowed from my lips as the world ruptured and bled above me.
Until finally… blessedly… there was silence.
My body felt like a livewire exposed to air, and sweat soaked every inch of me. I couldn’t move… could barely breathe… but I was alive.
“Isarae?”
I took a deep breath, swallowed, and pushed my reply past a throat torn by screams and lips split by effort.
“I am here, Alessa…” I replied. “I… I’m here.”
Her sigh of relief flowed out of her and into me as her hands came back to rest on my cheeks, and her thumbs traced my face with that loving familiarity I craved from her. I would always crave her touch, I knew that without a shadow of a doubt, just as I knew that she would forever need mine.
“Can you see it, my love?” Her voice was wet with happy tears. “I can… Oh, Isarae… I can see you… you’re so beautiful.”
I took another deep breath before forcing my eyes open. The specter of my soul was gone, and the sky above us had a hole torn in it. I could see the stars twinkling brightly, and a sliver of the moon. The celestial war that had been waged over my unworthy soul had spent the fury of the storm in this part of Amphitria, opening an eye of calm above us.
But I could not see whatever it was Alessa was seeing.
“What do you mean?” I turned my head up to see Alessa staring into the sky with a rapturous smile on her face.
“Your soul, ‘Rae,” she replied softly. “It’s like a newborn star… a beacon of pure, clean light.”
“Impossible,” I muttered the word before I could think. “Alessa… I am tainted… I’m-”
I began to argue that I’m cursed, but as I do I realised something that stole the words from my tongue.
I was not hungry.
Nor was I thirsty.
My Druchi thirst isn’t just sated and filled from the outpouring of psychic power that I had just endured. It wasn’t just suppressed or locked away.
It was gone.
My curse, the mark on my soul that was forever siphoning my vital essence out of me and into the warp, had been seared away by the light of Alessa’s God-Emperor. He had clashed against the Prince of Excess, battled the Chaos God of Pleasure for my soul, and He had won.
I was free.
A hiccup escaped my lips, followed by a sob relief that became a bawling cascade of tears as I allowed myself to fully and truly feel for the first time in my life. I curled against Alessa as she pulled me tight to her and buried my face against her chest, clinging to her as my emotions that had been tamped down so deeply as to never been seen by the hungering dark of the warp came welling out.
“It’s alright,” Alessa cooed gently. “ You are under His aegis now, my love. You are protected, now and forever, by the wings of the Aquila, for no shadow can reach you so long as you remain bathed in the light of the Golden Throne.”
I thanked her, I think… though I can’t recall precisely how. Words bubbled out of me, promises of love and devotion, although I’m not certain any of it was in Gothic. All I know is that, in that moment, I felt something I had never before had cause to look for in myself. A kind of strange, upswell of light and desire that was free of anything fleshly.
Faith, I think.
Yes, I think I felt… faith.
“Pray with me, Isarae,” Alessa said as she pulled back with her eyes closed, and then pressed her forehead to mine. “Pray to Him on Earth.”
“What do I say?” I asked in a croaking plea. “I… I cannot… what can I say?”
“The God-Emperor loves all martyrs, Isarae,” she replied with a smile, “and you were prepared to die for His daughter… no, more than die, to cease.” She raised her head from mine and pressed her lips to my forehead again. “So now, he loves you too.”
I do not know the ritual tongue of the Mon-Keigh, or High Gothic as Alessandra calls it, but she teaches me the words and their meaning, and leads me through a short prayer of gratitude. To my surprise, I find myself meaning each and every word that comes out of my mouth as I give Him thanks for saving me, for preserving me from the hunger of She Who Thirsts, and for taking my soul beneath his wing.
“How do you feel?” Alessa asked as we finished praying and I rested against her, shivering a little in the cold, rain-soaked air.
“Good,” I replied, then chuckled. “I… it is a strange feeling, and one I do not know that I recognise entirely, but… I think I feel good.”
“Then it was all worth it,” Alessa spoke with a smile, and then slowly rose to her feet, pulling me along with her. “Now, ah… I think we should return to bed… I’m not sure how much longer I can stand.”
I laughed quietly as my own legs shook and trembled under my weight, but held once I steadied myself. “I am unopposed to that, Cre’yth,” I say with a smile.
“Will you help me?” she asked as if she needed the aid, and I furrowed my brow at her as she looped her arms around one of mine.
And a terrible notion occurred to me as I looked at her.
Alessa still hadn’t opened her eyes.
“Alessandra, my love?” I hated how my voice trembled, and something in the smile she gave me broke my heart anew.
“Yes, ‘Rae?”
“Would you… would you please open your eyes?” My voice cracked as I begged her, and her lips turned down to a gentle frown.
Then she nodded, looked in my direction, and opened her eyes to reveal two pale, milky orbs of white.
