【战锤40k同人作品翻译】 Ennui 第三十一章：刻薄 Unkind

本章概述：

            亚历莎像个女孩那样打架。

            In which Alessa fights like a girl. 

 

正文：

你们不会得到她。

我咆哮着，尽全力抵住了灵族战士的战刀。我全身紧绷，肌肉被束缚起来以抵挡异形那超凡的力量，她的武器在我的阻挡下离刺穿我仅有毫厘之差。

整个世界都在黑与金中燃烧，我能感受到惊诧从灵族的辉光上放射出来。

“你别想得到她！”我狂吼道，在一股强烈的意志的驱使下冲向她的身后，偏转了她的刀锋并任由其胡乱地划过我的盔甲的弧形装甲板。

那件武器削去了一层陶钢并几乎切开了它，可圣殿铠仍然坚挺。那个战士带着难以置信的尖叫踉跄着后退，与此同时我绷直了伊莎莱的剃刀连枷并向前突刺。

她很快，这毋庸置疑。这个灵族战士以非人的方式移动。自然也是非帝国式的。

但她还是快不过伊莎莱。

我在她的攻击间迂回躲闪，我的双眼聚焦在她的辉光上，尤其是她的双腿。

战刀向我砍来，但由于我施展了伊莎莱打进我体内的Lacerai招式，没有一击得以命中我。

灵族战士明显的惊愕令人倍感满足。她们刚刚才与一个言谈举止都像帝国人一般的灵族战斗，结果又被迫与一个像灵族一样战斗的帝国人交手。

我跳过了几个Lacerai招式，避开了侧重速度的部分并专注于使用那些让我接触地面的。我无法在自己的盔甲内施展任何空中机动或特技动作，但我更大的自重和机魂赋予我的巨力将地面技从仅仅“致命”转变成暴烈的锤击，并如女妖切开我的盔甲那样破解了她的防御。

不过我们不能留在这里。我毫不怀疑更多的增援正在赶来，而只要他们带上任何比步兵武器更重型的家伙，VTOL就会陷入险境。

因此，虽然我战斗的方式有那么一点像灵族，但我仍然是一名帝皇之女。我仍是修女会的一员。

我即是信仰的殉道者。

一次，两次，三次，我不断出招，却在出第三招有所犹豫，期望这这个女妖的傲慢让她在看见我的左侧门户洞开时注意不到接下来会发生什么。

她照单收下，将她的战刀猛刺向我的心脏，其角度之刁钻以至我闪身回避就会横死当场。而如果我呆在原地，我也照样会死。

于是我用自己的战刀与之相交。

我咽不下异形的利刃穿过我的肩甲并深埋进肩膀里时的那声尖叫，因此我将之从疼痛转变为愤怒。那利刃烧灼肉体时带着一阵烤焦骨肉的诡异声响，而那阵剧痛几乎令我目眩。可我的肾上腺素猛增起来，随着我用更大的重量和动量将战刀从灵族的手中扯下，她不禁发出了一声近乎滑稽的惊叫，在她能站稳脚跟前，我便做出了自己的最后一个动作，

我对剃刀连枷的近身格斗式一无所知，而且由于即兴创作的结果很可能是把自己的胳膊切下来，因而我选择了次优解：

我收紧胳膊，然后一拳捣在她的脸上。

我着甲的拳头撞上了灵族的头盔，将她的护目镜打得炸裂开来并粉碎了头盔的送话口，并且，在我肘关节上嘶叫的陀螺的驱使下，在她向后飞去时打碎了她的下颚。

在我能继续攻击之前，一连串压制火力开始噬咬我周围的地面。

更多的灵族步兵正在逼近。

我想要结果她，但那与自杀无异。因此我咒骂着转身把自己拉上了坡道，砰地一声关上按钮，然后栽倒在地，在一串痛苦的咒骂中从我受伤的手臂上扯下了那把战刀。

阿斯塔特沉重的抓握把我举了起来并放在了其中一个座位上，又在我身上系上了安全带并把我包裹进了防撞网里。我茫然地环顾四周，在心里点着数，直到确认姐妹们没有受到比磨损更重的损伤才放下心来。天使大人受了伤，但还活着，我毫不怀疑他的战团会派出一名所谓的药剂师来照看他们。

而在我身边，在她所属的地方，是伊莎莱。

我的伊莎莱。

“那可真够疯狂的，”伊莎莱在安全带和防撞网所允许的范围内尽可能凑近我以看到我的手臂，却只能皱眉于她所看到的景象。

“你会失去它的，知道吗。”

“少一条胳膊总比痛失吾爱要好，”我回答道。

伊莎莱只得在我们坐回座位时以摇头回应。上级修女达尼卡在机舱的另一头一反常态地保持着沉默，她的目光透过头盔直直地盯着伊莎莱。

仿佛感受到了我的目光，她转向了我，然后缓缓地把手伸向她的护颈和领子上，打开了盔甲的密封，摘下了她的头盔。

出乎我的意料，达尼卡姐妹看上去并不比我年长。也许能比我大出几岁，但她缺少卡利昂姐妹所拥有的那种岁月和经验的痕迹。她的面庞被晒成棕褐色，右眼下方的脸颊上是一朵简洁的鸢尾花纹身。她的头颅的左半边被剃得很光滑，但另一边是略微卷曲的发髻，我猜想那很可能有着紫藤修会修女常有的白色。

“上级修女，”我设法带着绑带和肩伤尽可能地低下头。

“你怎么还能活动？”达尼卡问道。

与之前不同，她的语气中没有一丝刻薄，最多的是好奇。

“我……”我低头看了一眼自己的盔甲，皱起了眉头。“我想我已经不在那个断电效果的影响范围内了吧，不是吗？”

达尼卡姐妹摇了摇头。“如果那阵爆炸打中了VTOL的引擎的话就不会如此，你没有……你应该像我们一样失去活动能力的。”

我思考着她的话。她说的对，如果爆炸半径大到足以关闭VTOL的主引擎和其它所有冗余部分的话，那么伊莎莱也不能把我扔出异形武器的影响区域。即便如此，圣殿铠仍然能正常运转，其系统甚至没有中断过哪怕一点。

“也许圣殿里的盔甲能防御这类东西吧，”我在左右转动我的右臂时想到，随后我放弃了这么做，回头看向达尼卡姐妹。“我恐怕说不准为什么我没有受影响，除了帝皇庇佑以外。”

来自筋疲力尽的姐妹们口中机械式的“帝皇庇佑”的合唱回荡在机舱内。然而，随着话音落下，我看到那些顶着宕机的盔甲系统设法摘下头盔的人，在盯着伊莎莱时脸上惊讶的神情。

她的话语与其他人的祷告一同奏响。

“你说得好像真心相信它似的，异形，”达尼卡尖刻地说。

“我只会说我所知道的真实情况，”伊莎莱回应道。“在我命悬一线，欢愉王子叩响我灵魂的门扉之际，神皇伸出手来保护了我，并击退了巨蛇。”

“骗子，”其中一个姐妹啐道。“神皇不会保佑卑劣的异种。”

“然而祂的确这么做了，”我唐突地回应道，“而我要感激你没有为人类之主的权能设限。”

那个姐妹脸涨的通红，尽管我不确定那是出于尴尬还是愤怒。两者兼有，最有可能是这样。

“圣典认为一切异形都腐败到无可救药，”达尼卡回敬道。

“然而神皇岂非全能？”我高喊道，包括达尼卡在内的姐妹们都睁大了双眼。“人类对银河的主宰岂非出于地球之主的伟力！？”我随着怒火的升腾挥舞起双手。“吾等受黄金王座之命，要令祂的光辉遍及全银河！吾等之颂歌岂非祂的圣言？吾等之臂膀岂非祂的延伸？吾等所践行岂非祂的意志？而若有遭黑暗荼毒之心智向往祂的光明，漠视此等祈愿岂非吾等之失职？！”

“亚历莎……”伊莎莱的声音中带着敬畏，我转向她，困惑于她的语气。

我其他的姐妹们面带同等的震惊看过来。达尼卡睁大双眼凝视着我，就连天使大人也紧紧地盯着我看。

“怎么了？”我回头看向伊莎莱，然后看向我的姐妹们。“发生什么事了？”

伊莎莱从防撞网里伸出手来，将她的手掌与我的左手相扣，我本能地包裹住她的手，扣住她的手指并以那种微弱却熟悉的方式挤了挤以告诉她我在这里，也告诉自己她就在身边。

然后我为之一怔。

我握住了她的手。

用我的左手。

我缓缓地看向我的胳膊。即便用我的灵视我也能看到能量从我身上流淌出来，却又折返回我的身边并探进我肩上的伤口里。我这才想到，方才咆哮时我一直在用双手比划，完全无视了我刚才收到的重伤。

痛感不见了，那剧痛消失得无影无踪，对伤口的匆匆一瞥展现出了被女妖的战刀割开的盔甲裂口下干净、无暇的肉体。

我变得完整了。

“信仰的奇迹，”天使大人雷鸣般的低音打破了我的震惊。“这很罕见，但我曾经见过这种情况……有那么一次。”

“那是什么时候，安塔雷斯大人，”达尼卡问道，她的声音因不确定而绷紧。

天使大人沉默地注视了我一会儿，随后转头看向达尼卡。在这个过程中，他重启的盔甲系统发出了轻微的喀喀声，他的动作逐渐变得平稳，除了在密封圈和关节受损的位置上。

“我在不屈远征期间，与圣塞勒斯汀并肩作战时，看到过这种光芒。”

 

 

余下的航程基本都在沉默中度过。

阿斯塔特大人关于活圣人的说法并不让我满意。我与尊敬的塞勒斯汀女士毫不相似，当然也不圣洁。我曾在绝望和信仰破灭的时候呼唤神皇，他回应了，但那并不出自于圣人之手。

我远非唯一一个祈求神启并得到回应的人。

尽管如此，好处也还是有的，上级修女达尼卡终于不再找伊莎莱的茬，勉强接受了持久而毫不掩饰的怒视。余下的姐妹们在航程中继续带着令人不适的敬畏偷看我，无疑是认为她们可能遇到了另一位活圣人。

不幸的是，我要让她们失望了。

活圣人是修女会的理想的化身。她们是神皇的慈悲与怒火的活生生的下赐。她们绝不会是一个几乎未经战火洗礼，还成功地爱上了第一个跟她讲了除了“ WAAAGH”之外的话的异形的预备修女。

我倒也没后悔就是了。

我轻轻捏了捏伊莎莱的手，她则对我回报以微笑。即便是在神皇收下我的视力时授予我的昏暗的灵能视野下，我也仍看得到亲爱的伊莎莱对我微笑时那微妙的可爱曲线，我将之置于我的头号幸事之列。

“你恶心到我了。”

达尼卡姐妹又开始了。

“你的不适与我无关，”我回复道。

“可你公然用恶心到如此地步的爱慕看着那个东西的样子与我有关，”达尼卡阴森森地说道，止住了一直回荡在船舱里的耳语声。

飞行器的高度和速度的微妙变化压制了任何形式的回应，我能感觉到胃脏下沉时带来的眩晕感，这表明了一个快速的垂直下降。我们现在一定已经到达了花园隐修院，我相当期待看到自己得到清洁，圣殿铠能被重新祝圣。

但愿能有一队卫军士兵，或者甚至是我的姐妹们的小队，能被送回伊莎莱和我一直居住的尖塔里以取回我自己的装备的残余。将它抛在身后令我倍感痛苦，但我无能为力。我们只勉强保住了性命。

VTOL随着起落架的展开摇晃起来，航空器停在了修道院的机库中，在船体稳定下来的那一刻，安塔雷斯大人就按下了坡道的释放装置。

我松开了安全带上的扣子，把自己拉出了防撞网，随后转身去帮伊莎莱。她可以处理防撞网，但由于手臂负伤，她不太能处理中心稳定装置的释放。

“非常感谢，亚历莎，”伊莎莱站起来轻声说道。

她一站稳脚跟，我就从腰间取下了自从撤离与灵族的战斗起就一直带在身上的剃刀连枷，并把它递给了伊莎莱。

“谢谢你，”我微笑着回答。

“你打得很漂亮，”伊莎莱说着接了过来，把它收回腰间。“就是有点……不太正统。”

“有一半的招式需要我以动力甲不太允许的方式移动，”我承认道。“我现在明白了为什么你穿这么少的盔甲了……就连有限地施展这些招式都快把盔甲的关节扯断了。”

她从我身边经过时牵起我的手，我们一起走下了坡道。我并不需要帮助来做到这一点，但这并不重要。让她的手牵着我的手才是重点。更重要的是，这是对我的每一个姐妹的宣示—我们不害怕评判，也不以此为耻。

“不准再走了，”达尼卡姐妹的声音不时被爆弹枪供弹时的齿条声和上油的保险打开的轻响打断。

她并不是孤身一人。

在我们身后，有六名姐妹跟着她们的上级修女解锁了爆弹枪，并对准了在坡道底部的伊莎莱和我。

我不需要转头。我的感知到达了我所关注的地方，这花了点力气，但我能像看到自己的前方一样准确地看到自己的后方。这种触感令人头晕目眩，感觉上也极其不自然，但我不能否认它很有用。

不出我所料，在我身后的人形中，唯一对自己有十足把握的只有达尼卡。其他姐妹们的辉光因蓝绿色的不确定而开裂。她们一定在我身上看到了些我敢肯定不存在的东西，但不管事实如何，她们相信天使大人的话，相信我可以行使一名活圣人的力量。

直到神皇从王座上站起来前，我可以一直否认这种地位，不过这么花费我的时间不大会有意义。

去他的。

“你们觉得这能伤到我吗？”我问道。

与达尼卡不同，我选择从卡利昂姐妹的书里吸取教训。我们并没有相处得多好，但我一直都尊重卡利昂姐妹，既是作为领袖，也是在个人意义上。她从来不提高声调，她的嗓音平稳而冷静，有着一名熟练的演说家的特征，但从来也不会带上吼叫或呵斥。

她一开口，人们就会侧耳倾听。

我保持着平稳的语气，让这些话语从胸膛深处漫溢而出，空荡荡的机库静静地回响着我的嗓音的力量。实际上，这是个不错的声学效应。

她们的光晕更加破碎了，我则屹立不动。我不能展现出软弱或犹疑。我不能给达尼卡或她的小队哪怕一刻对我的决心之坚定的怀疑。

如果我这么做了，我们就都得死。

“你们的灵魂燃烧着神皇之光，”我继续说道，看到了犹豫在达尼卡的下属间流淌。“它很美，姐妹们，我也希望你们能像我一样……拥有神皇赐予我的视野。如金色火焰般的灵魂存在于你们每一个人的体内，就如同它存在于我的体内，于她的体内一样。”

我对着伊莎莱微微颔首。

“你胆敢给那东西赋予灵魂？！”达尼卡的声音嘶哑，带着几乎控制不住的愤怒。

“我们的一切都来自神皇的赐予，不是吗？”我问道，仍然拒绝面对她们。

“那是——！”

“我曾经目睹过至圣，达尼卡。”现在我转过身来，尽可能准确地用盲眼盯住她以免出错。“不要怀疑，我的失明乃地球之主的赠礼，祂已经以你无法理解的方式祝福了我。”

至少，那是真的。

神皇赐予了我伊莎莱的生命，以及她矢志不渝的爱。

她们永远也不会明白的。

“够了！”

我从达尼卡那里转过来，把我的感知锚定在身体的朝向上，随即看到了一群带有金色光晕的人影穿过机库向我们走来。在她们中间是一个闪耀的女性的人影，燃烧着虔诚与纯洁。她的灵魂似乎怀揣着修会的鸢尾花，而我立刻便意识到自己面前站着的是谁。

“鞠躬！”我小声提醒伊莎莱，并单膝下跪，低下头去。我很欣慰地看到伊莎莱在不到一息之间就跟了上来。

“那我们的行刑队怎么办？”伊莎莱从嘴角发问。

“她们不会在大修女面前开火的，”我轻声回答道。

“预备修女亚历桑德拉·阿图斯，”领头的姐妹以实践与权威的力量开口。她的声音使人习惯性地服从，这也有着充分的理由。

“贵安，受祝的姐妹，”我友好地回复道。“您的驾临和关注令我倍感荣幸，乌泰娜大修女（Canoness Utena），若您愿意，我很荣幸为您效劳。”

乌泰娜是一位技艺高超的战士。她的剑法堪称传奇，而她的热忱也毫不逊色。她是个高挑、瘦削、面色苍白的女性，从齐肩的直发到锋利的颧骨都棱角分明。据传她的双眼有着最为迷人的蓝色，如同春天时阿尔伯雷亚修道院头顶的天空，但我无从确认。不过我知道，无论它们是什么颜色都一定有着无与伦比的激情。

“那巧了，我正有此意，”大修女回答道，我不禁注意到她的发言中略带讽刺的语气。

“大修女……”达尼卡刚开口，就被乌泰娜锐利而尖刻的目光打断了。

“退下，上级修女，”乌泰娜大修女以轻柔却不容置疑的语气命令道。“照看好你的姐妹和战甲，这两位从现在起是花园隐修院的客人了。”

我对此也感到惊讶。我原以为自己一到隐修院就需要为我和伊莎莱的情况作辩解。我也从没想到大修女除了下令处决了事外还会亲自介入，当然那会是最坏的情况。

而由大修女宣布不只是我，还有伊莎莱都是隐修院的客人，则……非同寻常。这让我更加怀疑而非感到放心，而从伊莎莱的光晕来看她估计也有同感。

而达尼卡则完全被激怒了。

“这……这个异种是……什-什么？”达尼卡听起来像是大脑里的某个重要的部位发生了严重故障，而其它不常用的部位正在拼命试图填补空缺似的。

“帝皇塔罗断言她们对我们的胜利至关重要，”乌泰娜严厉地说。“你需要知道的就这些了。现在，你被解散了，上级修女。”

有那么一瞬间，我确信自己将见证达尼卡在机库里突发某种严重的冠状动脉疾病，但在闪过一阵红色和紫色的阴影后，她放下了爆弹枪，敬了个礼，然后命令她的小队做同样的事，随后以良好——只不过很僵硬——的纪律性原地解散。

伊莎莱目送她们离开，脸上的表情在大多数人看来都风轻云淡，但我与她共度的时光教会了我如何看到她的沾沾自喜，哪怕没有来自她的辉光的提示。而随着她对上我的盲眼，想要不一起笑出来则相当费劲。

不过，我们把这份幽默藏在明面之下，将注意力转回仍在仔细打量我们的大修女。

“感谢您的干预，大修女，”我在一段沉默后开口道。“我愿意为您提供一份完整的报告，以阐明我们是如何陷入这种……非常状况的。”

“那会很有帮助，”乌泰娜唐突地说。“特别是由于我们的星语者和先知们一直以超过90%的准确率从帝皇塔罗中寻得同样的模式，这说明与一名灵族共事出自于地球之主的直接意愿。”

“帝皇庇佑，”伊莎莱念诵道，大修女对着伊莎莱恭敬地语气扬起了一侧完美的眉毛。“人类之主赐予我新的生命和新的目标，如若这个目标是为您效劳，那我就将见证它的落实。”

“有意思，”乌泰娜大修女后退一步并转过身去，示意我们跟上。

“过来吧……我有很多事要与你们俩商量。”

 

原文：

You will not have her.

I growled the words out as I strained against the Eldar warrior’s glaive. My whole body was tensed, my muscles were bunched and corded against the unearthly strength of the alien whose weapon I had kept from skewering me by the barest of margins.

The whole world was burning black and gold, and I could feel the surprise radiating off of the Eldar’s aura.

“YOU WILL NOT HAVE HER!” I bellowed, and with a surge of purpose I bull rushed her back, turning the thrust of her glaive so its point skittered haphazardly across the curved plate of my armor.

The weapon scraped a layer of ceramite away, almost scoring through it, but the chapel armour held true. The warrior staggered back with a cry of disbelief as I snapped Isarae’s razorflail straight and then surged forward.

She was fast, there was no doubt about that. This Eldar warrior moved like nothing human. Certainly like nothing Imperial.

But she wasn’t as fast as Isarae.

I ducked and wove between her strikes, my eyes focused on her aura and especially on her legs.

The glaive chipped and cut at me, but no single blow landed true as I struck out through the Lacerai forms that Isarae had beaten into me.

The Eldar warrior’s shock was as palpable as it was satisfying. They had just fought an Eldar who spoke and acted like an Imperial, only to be forced into combat with an Imperial who fought like an Eldar.

I skipped through the Lacerai forms, avoiding speed and sticking to the ones that kept me grounded. I couldn’t perform any of the aerial maneuvers or the acrobatic leaps in my armour, but my greater weight and the immense strength lent to me by the machine spirit turned the earthbound forms from merely ‘deadly’ into onslaughts of hammering force that cut and notched the Banshee’s guard the same as her strikes were doing to my armour.

We couldn’t remain here though. I had no doubt more reinforcements were on their way, and if they brought anything heavier than infantry then the VTOL would be at risk.

So although I may fight a bit like an Eldar, I am still a daughter of the Emperor. I am still one of the Adeptus Sororitas.

I am a martyr of the faith.

Once, twice, thrice, I struck out, and in the third form I faltered, hoping that in her arrogance the Banshee would not see what was coming as I gave her an opening on my left side.

She took it, thrusting her glaive at my heart, and the angle was such that if I tried to dodge, I would die. If I stayed where I was, I would also die.

So I met the glaive with a charge of my own.

There was no biting back the scream, so I turned it from pain into one of rage as the alien blade split through my pauldron and buried itself in my shoulder. It cauterized flesh with a grotesque hiss of scorched muscle and bone, and the agony was almost blinding. I rode the adrenaline, though, and the Eldar let out an almost comical bark of alarm as my greater weight and momentum tore the glaive from her grip, and before she could rally and find her footing I made my final move.

I didn’t know any of the close combat forms of the razorflail, and since trying to improvise would probably result in me cutting my own arm off, I opted for the next best thing:

I cocked back my arm, and punched her in the face.

My armoured fist crashed into the Eldar’s helm, crazing her eye-lenses with cracks, shattering the mouthpiece of the helm, and, still driven by the grinding, screaming gyros of my shoulder joint, broke her jaw as she was sent flying backward.

Before I could follow up my attack, a barrage of suppressive weapons fire started chewing up the ground around me. 

More of the infantry Eldar were approaching.

I wanted to finish her but it would have been suicide, so instead I turned with a vicious curse and hauled myself up the ramp, slammed the button to close it, and slumped to the ground as I tore the glaive from my ruined arm on an agonised stream of invectives.

The heavy grip of the Astartes bore me up and settled me into one of the seats before pulling the straps around me, and layering me in crash webbing. I looked around dazedly, mentally counting until I'd satisfied myself that my sisters had made it out none the worse for the wear. The Lord Angel was wounded but alive, and I had no doubt his chapter would have sent one of their vaunted apothecaries to tend to them.

And at my side, right where she belonged, was Isarae.

My Isarae.

“That was mad,” Isarae hissed as she leaned towards me as far as the belts and webbing would allow so she could get a look at my arm, only to grimace at what she saw. “You’re going to lose this, you know.”

“Better my arm than my love,” I replied.

Isarae could only shake her head in answer as we settled back into our seats. Sister Superior Danika was uncharacteristically silent on the other side of the cabin, her helmeted gaze fixed squarely on Isarae.

As if sensing my regard, she turned to me, then slowly raised her hands to her gorget and collar, released the seals of her armour, and pulled her helmet away.

To my surprise, Sister Danika did not look any older than I. Perhaps a few years past me, but she lacked the lines of wear and experience that Sister Kalion had possessed. Her face was gently tanned, and a simple black tattoo of the fleur de lis grace her cheek beneath her right eye. The left half of her head was shorn smooth, but the other half was a slightly curly mane of what I imagined was likely the usual white of a Wisteria Sister. 

“Sister Superior.” I bobbed my head as low as I could manage with the straps and the injury to my shoulder.

“How are you still moving?” Danika asked.

Unlike before, there was no vitriol in her tone. Her voice was more curious than anything else. 

“I…” I glanced down at my armour and frowned. “I suppose I was out of the range of the effect, wasn’t I?”

Sister Danika shook her head. “Not if the blast struck the VTOL’s front engines, you weren’t… you ought to have been as disabled as the rest of us.”

I considered her words. She was right, if the explosion radius was wide enough to shut down the main engines and all of the VTOL’s redundancies then there was no way Isarae had thrown me clear of the xeno weapon’s area of effect. Despite that, the chapel armour had functioned perfectly, there hadn’t even been a stutter of disruption in its systems.

“Perhaps the armour of the chapel is guarded against such things,” I reasoned as I turned my right arm this way and that, examining it before giving up and looking back at Sister Danika. “I’m afraid I cannot say why I wasn’t affected, save only that the Emperor Protects.”

A rote chorus of ‘the Emperor Protects’ echoed through the cabin from the lips of my exhausted sisters. As the words faded, though, I saw surprise on the faces of those who had managed to remove their helmets in spite of their dead armour systems as they stared at Isarae.

Her words had echoed right along with all of the others.

“You say that as if you truly believe it, xeno,” Danika said sharply.

“I say only what I know to be true,” Isarae responded. “At the moment of my death, with the Prince of Excess at the door to my soul, the God-Emperor stretched his hand across me to shield me, and beat back the Serpent.”

“Liar,” one of the sisters down the row spat. “The God-Emperor would not protect a vile xeno.”

“And yet, He did,” I replied curtly, “and I would thank you not to assign limitations to the Master of Mankind.”

The Sister flushed red, though from embarrassment or fury I was unsure. A measure of both, most likely.

“Scripture deems all xenos corrupt beyond redemption,” Danika countered.

“And yet is The God-Emperor not all powerful?” I barked, and the Sisters, Danika included, stared. “Is it not by the power of Him On Earth that humans are granted dominion over the galaxy!?” I swept my arms out as my temper rose. “We are tasked by the Golden Throne to extend His light to all corners of the galaxy! Are our hymns not His voice, spread to the ears of the masses?! Are our hands not His hands?! Are we not demanded of to do His work?! And if there is even a single heart darkened by shadows that desires His light within it, then are we not derelict in our duty if we ignore it?!”

“Alessa…” Isarae’s voice was tinged with awe, and I turned to her, confused at her tone.

The rest of my sisters were looking on with equal shock painted across their features. Danika was staring with wide eyes, and even the Lord Angel was regarding me with a powerful intensity.

“What?” I turned back to Isarae, then to my sisters. “What is it?”

Isarae reached out from the crash webbing and laid her palm in my left hand, and on instinct I curled my hand around hers, lacing our fingers together and squeezing in that faint, familiar way to reassure her that I was there, and to reassure myself that she was close.

Then it hit me.

I squeezed her hand.

With my left hand.

I turned slowly to look at my arm. Even through my psychic sight I could see power hemorrhaging off of me only to curl back around me and diving into the wound at my shoulder. It occurred to me only then that during my rant I’d been gesticulating with both arms, completely ignoring the grievous wound I’d been dealt mere moments ago.

The pain was gone, the agony had faded completely, and a cursory check of the damage showed clean, unblemished flesh through the rent in the armour where the Banshee’s glaive had pierced.

I had been made whole.

“A miracle of faith.” The thunderous basso of the Lord Angel cut through my shock. “It is rare, but I have seen such a thing before… once.”

“When was that, Lord Antares,” Danika asked, her voice tight with uncertainty.

The Lord Angel regarded me silently for several moments before turning away to look down at Danika. As he did there was a faint cough from his armour as his systems restarted and his movements smoothed out save for where the seals and joints had suffered damage.

“I saw this light during the Indomitus Crusade when I fought alongside Saint Celestine.”

The rest of the flight was passed largely in silence.

The Lord Astartes’ statement regarding the Living Saint was one that sat poorly with me. I was not anything like the Revered Lady Celestine, I was certainly not saintly. I had called upon the God-Emperor in a moment of grief and desperate faith, and he had answered, but that did not a saint create. 

I was far from the only who had cried out for divine guidance and been answered.

Still, there was a small benefit in that Sister Superior Danika had finally stopped needling Isarae and had settled instead for a consistent, unsubtle glower. The rest of my sisters spent the flight continued stealing uncomfortably awestruck glances at me, no doubt thinking they might be in the presence of the next Living Saint.

Unfortunately, I was going to disappoint them.

A Living Saint was an embodiment of the ideals of the Sororitas. They were living investitures of the God-Emperor’s love and fury. They were not a barely blooded Sister Novitiate who managed to fall in love with the first xeno who said something other than waaagh to her.

Not that I regretted that bit.

I squeezed Isarae’s hand gently, and she turned to smile back at me. Even in the half-light psychic vision I was granted by the God-Emperor when He took my sight, I could still see the subtle, lovely curve of my dear Isarae’s smile, and I counted that amongst my greatest blessings.

“You sicken me.”

And there was Sister Danika again.

“Your state of distress is not my concern,” I replied.

“But the way you look at that thing with such blatantly foul adoration is mine,” Danika said in a dark tone that set the hushed whispers that had been rippling around the cabin into silence.

A subtle change in the craft's velocity and altitude curtailed any response, and I felt the telltale vertigo of my stomach dropping that came rapid vertical descent. We must have reached the Priory of Gardens by now, and I was very much looking forward to seeing myself cleaned and the armour of the chapel reconsecrated.

Hopefully a crew of guardsmen, or even a squad of my own sisters, could be sent back to the habspire that Isarae and I had been living in to reclaim the remains of my personal wargear. It pained me that I had to leave it behind, but there was nothing for it. We had barely escaped with our lives.

The VTOL rocked as the landing gear deployed and the aircraft came to rest in the Priory’s hangar, and the moment the ship was stable Lord Antares hammered the release for the ramp.

I worked the catches loose on the straps and pulled myself out the crash webbing before turning to help Isarae with her own. The webbing she could manage but with her battered arm she couldn’t quite manage the release on the central securement.

“My thanks, Alessa,”Isarae said softly as she stood.

The moment she was on her feet I removed the razorflail from around my waist where I had been wearing it since I’d retreated from the Eldar, and held it out to her.

“Thank you for this,” I replied with a smile.

“You fought beautifully,” Isarae said as she took it back and wove it around her waist. “If a bit… unorthodox.”

“Half of the forms require me to move in ways that power armour does not strictly allow,” I admitted. “I understand now why you wear so little armour… even the limited forms I used stressed the joints of the armour almost to breaking.”

She took my hand as she moved past me and we walked down the ramp together. I didn’t need her help for it, but it didn’t matter. Having her hand in mine was the point. Moreover, it was a symbol to each of the sisters watching us that neither of us feared judgment, nor were we ashamed of one another.

“Go no further.” Sister Danika’s voice was punctuated by the rack of a bolter feed and the soft click of an oiled safety dropping.

She was not alone, either.

Behind us a half-dozen sisters followed their Sister Superior’s lead, unlocking their bolters and raising them to sight down at Isarae and I and the bottom of the debarkation ramp.

I did not need to turn my head. My perceptions went where I focused, and it was an effort but I could effectively see behind me as accurately as in front. It was a touch vertiginous and felt deeply unnatural, but I could not deny it was useful.

As expected, the only one of the figures behind me who was certain of themselves was Danika herself. The rest of the sisters had auras crazed by lines of teal uncertainty. They had seen something in me that I was certain was not there, but regardless of the truth, they believed in the suggestions of the Lord Angel, that I may wield the power of a Living Saint.

I could deny such a status til the God-Emperor stood from the Throne but it was doubtful to be a meaningful use of my time.

Frak it.

“Do you think that will harm me?” I asked.

Unlike Danika, I chose to take a lesson from Sister Kalion’s book. We did not get along, but I always respected Sister Kalion as both a leader and personally. She never raised her voice, her tone was firm, cool, and had the projection of a practiced orator, but it was never a yell or a shout.

She spoke, and people listened.

I kept my tone even and let the words spill out from deep in my chest, and the empty hanger echoed quietly with the force of my voice. It was a nice acoustic effect, actually.

Their auras splintered further, and I stood fast. I could not show weakness or uncertainty. I couldn’t give Danika or her squad even a moment of suspicion that I was not absolute in my certainty.

If I did, we were both dead.

“Your souls burn with the light of the God-Emperor,” I continued, and I watched their hesitation bleed through Danika’s rank and file. “It is beautiful, sisters, and I wish you could all see as I do… with sight as the God-Emperor blessed me with. A soul like golden fire is within every one of you, just as it is within me, and as it is within her.”

I made a slight nod to Isarae.

“You dare ascribe a soul to that thing?!” Danika’s voice cracked with barely contained fury.

“It is from the God-Emperor that we are given our all, is it not?” I asked, still refusing to face them.

“That’s-!”

“I have laid eyes upon the divine, Danika.” Now I turned, and I fixed her as accurately as possibly with my blind eyes opened wide so there could be no mistake. “Do not doubt that my blindness is a gift of Him On Earth, and that He has blessed me in ways you cannot understand.”

That much, at least, is true.

The God-Emperor blessed me with Isarae’s life, and her continued love.

They would never understand that.

“ENOUGH!”

I turned away from Danika, anchoring my perceptions back to my physical direction, and saw a host of golden-aura’d figures crossing the hangar towards us. At the center was a luminous figure, female, and burning with devotion and purity. Her soul seemed to carry the fleur de lis of the Order within it, and I knew immediately who I must be standing before.

“Bow!” I hissed sotto voce to Isarae as I dropped to a knee and bowed my head low. I was gratified to see Isarae follow suit less than a breath behind me.

“What of our firing squad?” Isarae asked from the corner of her mouth.

“They will not open fire in front of the Canonness,” I replied quietly.

“Sister Novitiate Alessandra Artus,” the lead sister spoke with the power of practice and authority. Hers was a voice that was accustomed to obedience, and for good reason.

“Greetings, Blessed Sister,” I replied in kind. “I am honored by thy presence and attention, Canonness Utena, and it is my honor to give myself to thy service if thou wouldst have me.”

Utena was a warrior of superlative skill. Her swordplay was the stuff of legend, and her fervor no less so. She was a tall, spare, and pale woman made of lean, sharp lines from the shoulder-length and blade's-edge-straight cut of her hair to her razor sharp cheekbones. Her eyes were said to be the most fetching shade of blue, like the spring sky above the Convent Arborea, but I couldn’t be certain, but what I did know was that whatever their color, they bore an unrivaled intensity to them.

“I would, as it happens,” the Canonness replied, and I couldn’t help but note the slightly wry tone of her voice.

“Canonness Ut-!” Danika started but she cut off as Utena fixed her with sharp, withering glare.

“Stand down, Sister Superior,” Canonness Utena commanded in a soft, steelshod tone. “See to your sisters and to your wargear, these two are both guests of the Priory of Gardens henceforth.”

That was a surprise even to me. I had expected to have to argue my and Isarae’s case ad nauseam once we reached the Priory. I hadn’t expected the direct intervention of the Canonness herself unless it was to order a summary execution, which was obviously the worst case scenario.

Having no less than a Canonness declare that not only myself but Isarae as guests of the Priory was… unusual. It served to make me suspicious more than to reassure me, and from Isarae’s aura I reckoned on her agreement.

Danika was properly put out though.

“The… the xenobreed is… w-what?” Danika sounded as though some vital part of her brain had suffered a violent malfunction and now the other less used parts were trying desperately to take up the slack.

“The Emperor Tarot has declared her vital to our success,” Utena said sternly. “That is all you need to know, now, you are dismissed, Sister Superior.”

For a moment I was certain I was about to witness Danika suffer a major coronary event right there in the hanger, but after a moment of going several interesting shades of red and purple she lowered her bolter, saluted, and ordered her squad to do the same before falling out in good, if stiff, order.

Isarae watched her go with what to most would seem like a perfectly neutral expression, but my time with her had taught me how to see the smugness in her, even without the clues from her aura, and as she caught my blind gaze it was a struggle not to share a laugh.

We kept our humor private, though, and turned our attention back to the Canonness who was still watching us carefully. 

“Thank you for your intervention, Canonness,” I said after a moment of silence. “I would be happy to provide you a full report of what brought us to this… unusual circumstance.”

“That would be helpful,” Utena said curtly. “Especially since our astropaths and seers continue to turn up the same patterns in Emperor’s Tarot with over ninety per cent accuracy, suggesting it is the direct will of Him On Earth that we work alongside an Eldar.”

“The Emperor Protects,” Isarae intoned, and Canonness Utena raised a single, perfect eyebrow at Isarae’s respectful tone. “The Master of Mankind gave me new life and new purpose, and if He declares that purpose to be in service to you then I shall see it done.”

“Interesting.” Canonness Utena took a step back and turned, gesturing for us to follow. “Come… I have much to discuss with the both of you.”