Secret War: Upon Blood Sands by BAD Agar, Adrassil (amazing books to read TXT) 📕

Torris had never been so far into their ship before, so he couldn't help staring in wonder. He caught Klrith looking at him once. Torris couldn't read the Eldar's expression behind his helmet, but the contempt Klrith radiated was almost palpable.

Eventually, a door slid open for them, and they walked into what seemed like a large dining room. A long, white table sat in the centre and was covered in lush food, beautiful meats, vibrant fruits and what might have been vegetables. The smell made Torris' stomach rumble and mouth water despite none resembling any food he'd ever seen before. Over the past weeks, they'd been living on dry, tasteless rations. This was like heaven.

Raloth indicated their seats, and Torris sat across from Klirth. Attelus sat beside Torris; then it was Adelana and Karmen. Raloth was next to Klrith. Humans were on the right side of the table, eldar on the left.

"Here we are," said Raloth. "Torris, Attelus, Adelana, Karmen Kons, you are our honoured guests. Please help yourselves to food."

"Are they going to give thanks to the corpse they so foolishly worship?" said Klrith. "At least we have the intellect to stop worshipping our worthless gods and admit they are dead."

"I know many an eldar who still pray," said Raloth.

"That is just foolish sentiment," said Klrith.

Raloth's gaze wandered over the humans who sat in awkward, shuffling silence.

"Please, do not be afraid," said Raloth. "Eat if you so wish."

Hesitantly, Attelus and Adelana began to take food and place it onto their plates. But Torris and Karmen didn't move.

"What is it you wish to discuss?" said Klrith. "Do not waste any more of my time."

Torris grimaced and decided to get straight to the point. "Why do you hate us?"

He fought the urge to flinch as he remembered Attelus asking him that very question days before.

Klrith made what may have been a snort, "hate? I do not hate your kind. You are not worthy of my hatred. You are mere ants. Not even in billions of years could you mon-keigh live up to half of what we have achieved!"

"Why?" said Torris.

"What?"

"Why do you think that?"

Klrith paused, seemingly taken aback by the question.

"Because it is truth! And I do not think it, I know it!"

"So, you can see into the future?"

"Do not ask me such foolish questions."

Torris frowned and leaned back in his chair, it was exceedingly comfortable, but it was made for an eldar, so his feet swung in the air. It made Torris feel like a child again, back in his Schola Progenium on Malfi.

"My apologies," said Torris. "But you claim not to hate us, and I am no expert on your people's psychology, but how you act, it seems indicative to hatred."

"No, you mon keigh cannot be experts on anything. Your lives are too pathetically short, so spare me your foolish beliefs."

Torris' eyes widened as the realisation hit him; this Klrith, he had suffered from some horrific trauma. One enacted by humans.

"Tell me, Klrith," said Torris. "Why do you always wear your helmet?"

Raloth straightened as Klrith flinched, and Torris knew he'd hit a nerve.

"That is my business and mine alone!" snarled Klrith and was suddenly up and leaving.

Raloth was on his feet almost at the same time and grabbed Klrith by the shoulder. Klrith turned on Raloth, and they launched into an argument in their language.

For a good five minutes, they roared back and forth with such intensity it took Torris' breath away. It was becoming more and more obvious the eldar were like humans in many ways but felt emotion on a far, far greater level.

Finally, Klrith seemed to acquiesce, and things calmed down. Raloth sat back down, but Klrith still stood, seeming to stare into space. Suddenly he tore off his helmet.

The visage beneath made everyone but Raloth flinch in horror. Klrith's face was a mass of burnt tissue and scars. His eyes were barely visible, but it was obvious they watered with tears.

"If you truly must know, this is why I wear my helm," said Klrith. "Does this make you happy, mon-keigh?"

Klrith didn't wait for a reply, but Torris wouldn't have been able to anyway.

"Your kind did this to me! When you invaded our craftworld many cycles ago! Mon-keigh in the millions who had given their souls to She Who Thirsts, led by Space Marines of the Emperor's Children! I lost my family! My friends! My lover, she was a Dire Avenger, and I was forced to watch her die! We fought, and we fought, culled you by the thousands, but still, you came. But then the Harlequins came, they came telling our seers of a prophecy. ."

He paused, his hands balling into fists. "They told us if we did not abandon our craftworld if we continued to fight that it would not just lead to our extinction but the extinction of the entire eldar race!"

Klrith laughed; its bitterness resounded through the room. "At first, out seers ignored the harlequins. Surely they would know better than them? Surely they would have foreseen such a dire future? We could win! We knew we could! It would cost most of us our lives. But we would win! But as we culled and culled, more and more of us fell, and soon many of the seers saw that even if we were victorious, the price would not be worth it and began to argue amongst themselves."

Klrith shook his head. "That was until the then warlock Faleaseen managed to penetrate the skein and despite not being a full Farseer. She saw it, she saw this future, and so approached the council. And She revealed this vision. Instantly they made the decision to abandon the craftworld. So we took what we could of the infinity circuit and gave the Harlequins the soul stones of our dead. Then we, in mass, left. Fled into the webway with the little ships we had. This happened to me when I was fighting in the rearguard when a mon-keigh tank exploded in my face! So I swore I would never get it healed. That I would keep my face like this so I would never forget!"

As Klrith said, this Torris noticed Attelus flinch and touch the horrible scar on his left cheek.

"That is why I hate you and your kind! That is why it sickens me that we are to co-operate with you!"

With that, Klrith retrieved his helmet and walked out. This time Raloth didn't try to stop him.

For a long time, they sat in silence.

"I had no idea," managed Torris.

Raloth sighed. "No, and I do not blame you for not knowing. You mistook his prejudice for being driven by the same arrogance inherent in much of my people. I was like him many cycles ago. But I have moved on. I know that you, Torris and the others had nothing to do with that atrocity. I wish he would have his face healed so that one day, he might too."

There was another long, weighted silence.

"That is another reason why farseer Faleaseen hesitates to order us to fight," said Raloth. "We have already lost many Dalorsians already. Those mon-keigh still live in our craftworld, even today. I do not know how they survive, but they do, and that just adds to the insult."

"God-Emperor," breathed Karmen.

"I hope this truly establishes our dedication to this cause," said Raloth. "That we were willing to abandon our home. That we are willing to co-operate with the same race which was responsible for the tragedy."

"It seems we have more in common than I could ever imagine," said Karmen. "All of us are orphans, and many of us are marked with facial scars from our individual traumas."

She looked at Attelus. "And some of us will not allow those scars to heal."

"I am sorry," said Torris, fighting back the tears in his eyes. "I did not mean for this to happen."

"It's not your fault," said Raloth. "It is mine for underestimating you yet again. But you need not feel guilt, what is done is done, and the war for Dalorsia was generations ago for your kind. Now we must look to the future. I just hope, beyond hope, that something good will come out of this for poor Klrith. For now, please, eat."

No one touched any food after that, and it wasn't long before the humans took their leave.No one touched the food after that, and it wasn't long before the humans took their leave.

 With their guardian escort around them, they walked back to the guncutter in silence.

Adelana couldn't help stealing glances at Torris the entire way. The ex-arbitrator's face was a mask of rage, his hands opening and closing.

She fought her fear, Torris seemed on the verge of violence, and he was frigging scary at the best of times.

Attelus and Karmen seemed not to notice Torris and his inner conflict or ignore it.

Adelana couldn't help wonder if Torris saw some of himself in Klrith. That Klirth's hatred was horrifying to behold, but unlike Torris, it was far more justified. Also, that Raloth, despite going through the same trauma and similar turbulent emotional state, was able to overcome it.

After three years, Torris maybe saw that he needed to let his grudge go. Torris was a brilliant, observant character. But maybe that was the problem. Torris was so busy analysing others; he never bothered to look inward. To analyse himself.

Even some of the most educated, good people can lack self-awareness.

Adelana looked at Attelus as he walked ahead of her. That was one things Attelus had, self-awareness. Even though Adelana wished he had it more, she wished he could see just how self-centred and manipulative he could be, but no one was perfect. Least of all him.

Or her. Adelana couldn't help wonder- was she like Torris too? She shook away the thought if she was, she wouldn't have forgiven Attelus.

After what seemed hours, they emerged into the hangar bay and to the comforting sight of the guncutter that Adelana had become so well acquainted with over the past three years. It was beautifully silver and sleek but still boxy and primitive compared to the eldar fighters and transports around it.

Their guardian escort stepped away as they were about halfway through the hangar bay and as they started up the ramp. Vark was waiting for them.

"How did it go, Marcel?" he said. "They're grox shitting us, right? They're not to be trusted?"

Then Torris punched him in the face knocking Vark off his, and carried on into the guncutter.

Attelus stopped and offered Vark his hand.

Vark glared at Attelus.

Attelus stood without saying a word, his face neutral.

Vark eventually accepted it, and Attelus pulled him to his feet. Vark nodded begrudgingly, then turned and walked into the ship, wiping his bloody lip.

It seemed things were okay; Adelana hoped it'd stay that way.

She doubted it.

"Well, Adelana," said Attelus, smiling as she approached. "That went well, don't you think?"

Adelana frowned.

The next day, they exited the webway and immediately, the tangy smell of nervous, adrenaline-filled sweat sprang into the air as everyone began prepping.

They were a well-oiled machine- Attelus didn't need to say a word.

Vark, Hayden and Torris, with two servitors, made final checks on their vehicles. Halsin collected and collated his medical equipment. Hayden