Chapter 907 - 906: Nareth, Your Promise Means Nothing. You Can Give Me Nothing.

"Ollanius Persson, I thank you for your cooperation."

Nareth spoke gravely. "You have my word."

"Ridiculous!" Ollanius scoffed. "I need nothing."

"I can earn military honors, exchange them for land, seeds, everything I need."

"What you give to others, power, status, wealth, even entire worlds, means nothing to me."

Ollanius's lips curled. "You've saeen my past with the Emperor. You know He desires the Lexicon."

"If I were to give it to Him, He would give me everything, far beyond what you, a Primarch, could offer."

Nareth knew Ollanius wasn't exaggerating.

He also knew that even if Ollanius refused to give the Emperor the Lexicon, if he were willing to serve Him again, He would give him almost anything.

Ollanius was more precious to the Emperor than he realized.

In the Emperor's heart, Ollanius was a true friend from His long life. Even after being betrayed, He still considered him a close friend.

Ollanius was the only one who could truly change the Emperor's mind.

Malcador and Erda knew it. John Grammaticus knew it too.

When the Emperor decided to become the Dark King to face the Chaos-empowered Horus, only Ollanius could awaken His remaining humanity, make Him reconsider, and force Him to reflect.

Only Ollanius could call Him foolish, could condemn His cowardice.

Even Malcador, the Regent, did not have Ollanius's influence.

Nareth's promise to Ollanius was not just for the Lexicon. More importantly, he had to ensure Ollanius made it to the Vengeful Spirit.

If the Emperor decided to become the Dark King, and Ollanius wasn't there in time, most of humanity would die.

Though Nareth could pull the "linked" Shadows of Order and some others into the Kingdom of Disorder, the countless of humans in his domains would be lost, a price he could not pay.

Ollanius had to be aboard the Vengeful Spirit. It was the most critical factor of the Heresy. Without him, the Dark King would destroy almost all of humanity!

Nareth didn't know if his own interference would cause a butterfly effect, preventing Ollanius Persson from arriving at the Vengeful Spirit in time.

Especially since Calth was now his domain, not Guilliman's.

The Word Bearers might not attack Calth. Ollanius might not witness their atrocities and decide to find the Emperor.

Grammaticus might not find him during the Battle of Calth and remind him: "I mean all of humanity. The entire human race needs you, Ollanius."

"Everything is terrible. It's very, very bad. You wouldn't believe it."

"He will lose. If he loses, we all lose."

Nareth, of course, hoped Ollanius wouldn't ask him for anything, that he would, as in his memory, team up with Graft, Dogent Krank, Bale Rane, Hebet Zybes, and Katt, on a long journey through time and space, ultimately reaching Terra.

Then, he would walk the last path of his forty-five-thousand-year life.

He would convince the Emperor to abandon becoming the Dark King and face Horus the right way.

He would deliver the key to victory, the ritual dagger that would kill Horus.

Soldier Persson would face Horus, protecting the unconscious Emperor, and become a hymn to human courage.

There he would be destroyed by Horus's claws.

As Nareth pondered, Ollanius glanced at him contemptuously.

"So, you now know your promise means nothing."

"You can give me nothing."

"Leave. Don't bother me again."

Nareth spread his golden wings. "I hope so."

He didn't want to board the Vengeful Spirit for some final battle. His goal was to profit from the Heresy.

His wings beat, and he shot skyward.

Ollanius watched the golden point of light vanish over the horizon.

He shook his head. "I thought you would be different."

"You are different. He didn't get it. You did."

"Soldier Persson, time to rest." The servitor Glafort's mechanical voice broke the silence. It had stored the flax.

Ollanius averted his gaze, stretching his stiff neck from a day of looking up. He chuckled ruefully.

"The Shadows of Order at Fort Korkas and the bigwigs in Numina City will never guess their Lord Nareth came all this way for an ordinary soldier."

He pushed open the door, entering his white-painted cottage, and walked to the shower.

He pulled a cord, and the gravity shower rained down on him.

'Nareth's urgency to obtain the Lexicon must be connected to the Council of Nikaea.'

'He banned the Librarians. The Shadows of Order has lost their greatest asset. They are the Legion with the most psykers.

'Hmm... will he give the Lexicon to his father now?'

His master's image, long buried, surfaced again in his mind.

'If He knew I was here, would He forgive me for the dagger wound, for the Lexicon? Or would He order Nareth to kill me as punishment for my betrayal?'

'Would He send the Custodes to drag me back to Terra for punishment?'

He couldn't be sure. They had been constant companions, confidants, but they had not seen each other for thirty thousand years.

'Should I leave?'

As he thought, a song began.

His wife's song.

He always heard her song when he showered.

Ollanius dried off and dressed. He walked into the kitchen, but didn't see his wife, or the fresh bread.

She must have gone for the eggs.

Ollanius sat at the old table, waiting for his wife.

Tick, tock...

Grumble!

His stomach rumbled. He murmured, "I forgot. She died long ago, before I last joined the Imperial Army."

"She never came to Calth with me. She never enjoyed this beautiful world."

He pulled a fine chain from his neck, a Catholic medal hanging from it.

It was a gift from a wife who had died before they'd truly known each other.

"My memories are jumbled."

"I've lived several lives. Dozens..."

"I've lived too many times. I'm too old, too tired."

He tucked the chain back under his collar, rising to pour himself a glass of milk.

"Whatever the future holds, I just want to live my present life."

"This is my life."

"Though Calth's ruler is as arrogant a bastard as him, this world is beautiful."

He drained the glass. "I just want to live my present life."

He placed the prepared ingredients in the auto-oven.

He didn't have his wife's baking skills. He relied on the machine.

Then, he walked out to the storage shed to get the eggs. He liked to keep them where his wife would have.

....

If you enjoy the story, my p@treon is 30 chapters ahead.

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